35. lucas
THIRTY-FIVE
lucas
I hadn’t been sitting on my couch for three seconds when I thought I heard a knock at my door. It had been a long day—from a full schedule to Nate’s injury plus Dad’s revelation, one I’d confirmed with some quick research—and I hadn’t gotten a chance to decompress.
To consider next steps with Charlee.
I was stubborn enough not to text her, even though I wanted to. . . wanted her. But she hadn’t gotten in touch with me either. I smiled as I made my way to the door. Two stubborn old goats. It wasn’t a good mix, and when we eventually did connect, we’d have to talk about that.
Because we would connect. Charlee and I were meant to be together. I knew it as well as I knew any reservations the town had about my shop were quickly dissipating. Gian and the others had been showing off their tattoos, which had gone a long way to help.
The mayor had come in that afternoon to congratulate me on “such early success” and it seemed every day brought new clients without me spending a dime on advertising. Eventually, I’d need to. But in the meantime, I would ride the “new kid on the block” wave.
There was only one other tenant in the building, above me, so I assumed it was him at the door. Instead, when I opened it, I found a vision in cream. From her jeans to her sweater, everything was off-white. Her hair was down and in stark contrast to the sweater, which showed a perfect amount of cleavage. I didn’t even pretend not to look.
“Christ, you know how to make an entrance.”
“Technically,” Charlee said, “I didn’t enter yet.”
A bag was slung over her shoulder. I nodded to it as I stood aside for her to come in, inhaling that unique Charlee scent as she walked by.
“All fixed,” I said. “So what’ve you got there?”
She dropped the bag at the door as I closed it. “My things for tonight. And some things to leave here permanently, like a toothbrush and hair-care stuff. Shampoo and conditioner, since I assume you don’t have any of the latter.”
She said it so matter-of-factly that it took a second to register.
So many things to say. Questions to ask. But none of them mattered more than her being here, having made that bold statement. I pulled her to me and kissed her. Not just kissed her, but consumed her. My lips glided across hers, Charlee’s mouth opening wide for me. Plunging my hand into her sweater, unable to resist such a delectable display, I found my way beneath her bra and cupped her breast with my hand.
“I want you inside me,” she said, pulling away just enough to say that.
“I am going to pound you so hard, Charlee, that you won’t know where you end and I begin. Do you hear me?”
Her eyes said she did, loud and clear. “Anything you want is yours. I’m yours.”
Fuck. This woman would drive me insane. I wasn’t gentle tearing off her clothes, but to be fair, Charlee didn’t go easy on me either. Shoes, socks, pants, tops. . . all of it piled in a heap next to the door. When she was completely nude, I moved us to the couch, bent her over and grabbed a fistful of Charlee’s hair.
She cried out, not in pain, but pleasure. All I ever wanted.
“I want you to call my name,” I said, spreading her legs with my own. “No, I want you to fucking scream my name, Charlee. As loud as you want.”
“Someone might hear me,” she said as I got into position.
“Too fucking bad.”
And then my tongue was there, just below her ass cheeks. I ran it upward, loving the catch in her breath. Just to be sure she understood what was happening, I said, “I am going to tongue dart your fucking ass, baby, until you come.”
“Oh my God.”
And so, I did. Plunging it in, up and down. Left and right. With one hand gripping her hair and the other reaching around front, slipping inside her pussy, I was hard as a rock listening to Charlee’s moans.
I stopped. “Say it, Charlee. Scream it.”
When I started working her again, she did. Called my name over and over. I was relentless, pausing only when I felt her begin to shake. When she was about to come.
“No, no, no. Please don’t stop.”
To remind her I was in control, something Charlee herself said turned her on, I didn’t move. My fingers paused. I used the time to admire her round, firm ass as she continued to beg.
“When I’m ready,” I said, only to feel Charlee begin to pulse beneath my fingers even though they weren’t moving. Smiling, I relented, realizing I was already giving her what she wanted. Tugging on her hair, rubbing my thumb over her clit and resuming the tongue action I knew she’d love, Charlee didn’t just come all over my fingers. She fucking exploded, screaming my name just like I’d told her to.
“Come for me just like that, Charlee.”
Taking advantage of our position, and the fact that Charlee was currently dripping wet, I stood, guided myself toward her and made good on my promise. Grabbing both of her hips, I both thrusted into her and pulled Charlee toward me at the same time.
“Lucas.”
I did it again.
“Jesus, fucking, Christ. Lucas.”
And again. And again. Pounding away while listening to her make the most pleasing sounds deep in her throat. Reaching around front, I began to play with her clit.
“Come again for me, Charlee.”
I could explode any second but would wait. For her, this was round two.
“Fucking come for me,” I said.
That seemed to do the trick. Once again. Charlee’s legs began to shake, and as I’d once promised her would happen, her knees buckled. But I held her up as I also came deep inside her, calling her name into the emptiness of my apartment. One that wouldn’t be as empty much longer. This woman, the sensual, sex-loving woman with a craving for dirty talking, was basically moving in. That thought only intensified my orgasm as I came as hard into her as I could ever remember coming in my life. Until finally, I was spent. Clearly, Charlee was too. At least, for now.
“We should talk.”
After a second round in the bed, Charlee was curled up, her back against me, her shoulders rising and falling as I played with her hair. Playing footsie with me under the covers, she seemed as relaxed as I felt. Even so, we had some things to discuss.
Turning toward me, Charlee pulled a pillow more firmly under her head.
“I’ll need to bring a better pillow too.”
“Speaking of that. . .” I ran my finger from her shoulder downward, enjoying exploring Charlee’s curves. “Sounds like you’ll be staying here quite a bit?”
“Yes.” She nodded, tucking her hands under her head in the most adorable way. “I will.”
“Yet, the last we talked. . .” I allowed my sentence to trail off for Charlee to pick up.
“I should have told you about the potential promotion. I was just so nervous, being it was mainly about Dad and all. Which. . . no worries on that front anymore.”
My brows rose. “Really?”
“Really. We had a long talk, I told him where it was at, and why I love you, and he actually listened.”
“You love me, huh?”
“I told you that already, silly.” She reached up and tapped my nose.
“And I love you, Charlee. But we’ve got to start talking to each other.”
“Instead of crossing our arms in frustration?”
“Precisely.”
“Or running away?”
“Guilty as charged,” I said. “This works both ways, and I’ll admit to being a bit closed off at times too.”
“A bit closed off?”
“Maybe a lot closed off.”
“Better.”
“So tell me what he said.”
Charlee relayed the conversation with her father, admitting that although she knew with her “whole heart,” as she said, that she wanted to be with me, she was less sure of her future career-wise.
“Shockingly, he didn’t try to push. Well, any more than he had in the past.”
“That’s a good thing. You can think through it. We can talk it out if that helps.”
My reward was an ear-to-ear smile.
“I’d like that. I also like the idea of talking things through a bit more than we have.”
“Probably necessary if we’re going to survive.”
“If? Didn’t think doubts were something you dealt with.”
She had me there. “Okay, when.”
“Better.”
I leaned forward and softly kissed her on the lips. “Speaking of talks with our fathers, I had an interesting one today too.”
I told her what my father had said, but Charlee didn’t seem as surprised as I’d been. “Your father is clearly no dummy. That he had a life before your mom left? Makes sense. His drinking makes sense too.”
“I don’t disagree. But I deal in excuses as much as doubts. If he wanted to get help, he could. Do you know how many times I’ve offered?”
“Not as many as you need to, since he hasn’t taken you up on it yet.”
“So I just keep after him, month after month, year after year, until he either drinks himself to death or agrees to get help.”
“Pretty much. What other choice do you have?”
Good point.
“You always used to say I shouldn’t worry about things I couldn’t control. Do you still believe that?”
“I do.”
“And can you control your father?”
“No. But I also don’t worry about him either.”
I reached for her hand, held it, and put our clasped hands between us on the bed.
“Liar.”
I laughed. “Not holding back any punches, huh?”
“Nope. Once, I talked to your dad to try to find out where you were. It was the second time you’d deployed. He told me that although you rarely came home, you still talked. And that he knew you got regular updates from Mrs. Smith about what he was doing.”
That managed to surprise me. “Dad knew I had Mrs. Smith spying on him?”
“He did.”
“And told you.”
“Yep.”
“Hmmm.”
“There were times I wondered if you did the same with me.”
“Had someone spying on you?”
Charlee’s smile reached the corners of her eyes. “Not exactly. But kept track of me. Cared, despite how we broke up. At least enough to look me up on social media.”
She paused. Waited. “Well?”
“Oh, was I supposed to answer you?”
Charlee’s hand came flying out from under the pillow to swat me on the shoulder. In response, I grabbed her wrist with my free hand. Let go of the other hand, and in two seconds flat, was on top of her. Charlee’s hands? Pinned above her head.
“Again already?”
I leaned down, kissed her, and whispered in Charlee’s ear. “Are you questioning me?”
“Never.”
“Good girl. And because you’re a good girl, I’ll answer you. And the answer is yes to both questions. I did look you up. And we are going at it again. All fucking night.”
She shuddered beneath me.
I was going to have a lot of fun making my girlfriend come a record number of times tonight.
Nah. Not just tonight. Tomorrow. And the next day. And every night for the rest of our lives.