6. Moving In
Chapter six
Moving In
Charlie
It’s official. I move in today, and I get to take the first load of deliveries for the shop. Not flowers, but display equipment I’ll need for when the renovations are finished. Walking around what will be the shop area, I’m trying to decide what to do first. I’ve got so much I need to do with the layout before I can even open Magnolias.
The builders start the renovations on Monday. There will be some demolition of walls, the existing counters, and shelving to happen first, and I want to be part of it all. Sledgehammer, here I come. It’ll be good to get my aggression out. I’ve already agreed with Grady, my contactor, that I can do some of it. Supervised.
Pinning the plans to the walls ready for Monday, I step back and take a look around. My vision for the shop is bright and colourful. I want it to stand out; vivid pinks, greens, purples, oranges—a whole array of beautiful colours, just like the contents of my wardrobe. Wearing bright colours can really lift your mood and that’s what I want. I want my customers to feel welcome and uplifted when they walk in.
Looking over to the colour swatches on the opposite wall, I need to decide on what I want for the office and the apartment so I can get the order in before they start decorating upstairs next week. But I just can’t focus. I can’t keep my mind out of the gutter. Off Owen. We never got to the end of my twenty questions. Owen had other ideas with rounds two, three, and four with so much kinky fuckery in between, and a hell of a lot of orgasms. It’s no wonder I’m in a daze and unable to put anything into action. That was before we got to eat the rest of the cold pizza and drink the warm beer. I’d never been so hungry.
Or horny.
Just standing here, I can feel where he’s been. Remembering what we did, I ache in every muscle, some I never even knew existed. Even with going to the gym as much as I do. Each throb reminds me how he used his mouth and that magic fucking tongue of his to make me come so hard I saw stars. Right there on the edge of the shop counter. Then I remember all over again just how he fucked me up against the wall I’m looking at right now, my legs wrapped around him so tight, I can feel the ache there too. The office, the kitchen, the shop, you think it would have satisfied the itch, but I just want more… of him, more of what we did, more of, shit, no . He made the need I have for him worse, not better.
I give up, sinking to the floor, crossing my legs, and leaning back against the cold wall, staring at the large windows that should face the street but are currently covered up. I give myself a few minutes to calm down and get focused.
The movers should be here in about fifteen minutes to drop off my belongings from the house. Then I need to crack on. Get this done. Closing my eyes for the briefest second, this was not how it was meant to go. No men, that’s what I said to myself on the way down here. Hold off until I’m settled in.
That didn’t last long, not even one day, and I slept with someone I don’t even know and have been continuing to sleep with him. It’s been two days, two freaking days, so much for my no-men rule. My shoulders drop at the thought of my lack of self-control.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out to see Annie's smiling face, my work bestie and paralegal from my old firm. Swiping the button, I answer the video call. "Good morning. Are you at work already?" I ask, as she holds the phone back so I can see the office and her outfit, She looking amazing as always.
“Yep. Got an early meeting with Simon. I just wanted to check in and see how the move went?” Groaning, I forget she’s not seen it in real life. She’ll laugh when she sees the mess I have to deal with.
“I'll turn the phone around and show you the shop. It needs so much work doing to it, but the contractor said he should be done in four weeks, so more like six.” I laugh and she chuckles with me.
I turn the camera. “I didn't realise just how big it was,” she says with a gasp. “I bet you have so many plans for it, shit it’s a mess!" she adds, eyes wide. “I want workshops, events, a section for local business to display their work, so many things,” I tell her excitedly. “I just need to remember to pace myself. This is not London, and things may work a little differently here.”
“I still can't believe you did it. You left me here to deal with all this, and Simon's moody face.”
“Give him some slack. He’s so stressed out with that case.” She just raises her eyebrows. She’s not as sympathetic as I am. “I'd like to say I'm sorry, but I'm not.”
“I could use a good sleep. Maybe I'll come and visit soon. Once you're all up and running.”
“You don’t fancy helping me? Getting your hands dirty?”
“Not a fucking chance. I don't get my hands dirty for anyone. Do you know how much these nails cost to maintain?” She waves her highly manicured nails into view, then I show her my less than perfect ones, making her tut. “How the mighty have fallen,” she chuckles, “it’s only been two days. Right, got to go. Speak soon.” Hanging up, sighing, my head falls back onto the wall. I’m going miss our daily chats. My mind goes back to Owen as soon as I look around me again.
Closing my eyes, smiling to myself as I think about the hours we spent tangled together. It’s never been like that for me. I had to kick him out at three this morning. I needed my rest, and I knew he would have just gone for round five had he stayed. The man is insatiable. Even that blows my mind. Sex four times. I mean… Fuck. Literally. The smile that pulls on my lips says it all.
I enjoyed every second of it. Even kicking him out was satisfying. The kiss he left me with was beyond torturous. I had to fight the urge to haul him back through the door for a repeat performance. He knew it too. That’s the most unbelievable thing. He walked out of here, knowing exactly what he was doing to me. Judging by the tent in his jeans as he left, it wasn’t just me who was affected by the kiss.
It's been a good couple of days all round. Millie called yesterday to tell me her good news. They got him. Fucking Glen. He was in Spain and the police have him. The sense of relief I feel is overwhelming. I bet it’s nothing compared to how she and Jack are feeling today.
She also said she was ready to let her hair down at the ball on Saturday. I’m so excited for her and comforted to know that she’ll be safe now. With Glen behind bars and in another country, it’s a good feeling. One I want to celebrate with her. Millie can finally build the life she wants and so desperately deserves.
My eyes fly open like a bolt of lightning has struck my thoughts. Shit ... tomorrow. The ball’s tomorrow. I still need to get a dress. I may be able to wear that couture dress I found in a little boutique shop in the back streets of London. It’s stunning. I just hope I can find it when my things get delivered. I don’t have time to go shopping today.
I let myself go back to thinking about how well everything is going. I have a fuck buddy, a new shop, and an apartment I can’t wait to get settled in.
I can’t see the walls in my apartment for all the boxes and furniture in the way. The movers have been and gone. I’m sitting on the sofa upstairs when my phone buzzes with a message.
Millie: I feel terrible not being able to help you out today. I hope it's going ok.
Me: It's going great. Don't worry about me. You have far too many things to get sorted for the ball. How’s it going?
Her position as purchasing manager at The Manor seems to have developed into events manager, helping Jack set up the ball with his best friend and business partner Dan.
Millie: There's still so much to do, but I've given everyone a list and that alone makes me happy.
Me: *laughing emoji. I forgot how much you love a list.
Millie: Lists are life *serious emoji.
Me: *laughing emoji. Do I need to bring anything for dinner tonight? I can’t wait to catch up with you and Jack.
Millie: No, just your beautiful self.
Me: Okay x
Millie: Dan's freaking out again. Got to go. See you at 8 xx
I turn my attention to the contents of my life filling the space around me. The last time I moved I had so much help. My brothers, Christian and Corban, helped Andy move us into the three-story house. While myself, Mum and Dad unpacked all the basics and set us up for our first night together in our new home.
There’s a thickness in my throat when I think about how long it’s been since I’ve seen my brothers. I miss them. They got assigned to some special unit in the Army. Untouchable, they called themselves and unreachable for anyone around them.
I open Instagram. I know I shouldn't, but I look at Andy’s profile, seeing the pictures of the new baby. She’s cute—looks just like him. I can’t help the pang of jealousy. That could have been us.
I think deep down I wasn't ready because I didn’t actually want kids with him. I still like to torture myself about it all anyway. The what ifs, the could haves and whys. Would we have broken up anyway at some point? I mean, even if he hadn’t cheated multiple times with multiple women and then got one of them pregnant. I don't know. Maybe? It still hurts. I don’t love him anymore that’s for sure, but the pain is still there. Along with my fragile heart and determined mind. My trust in men has been obliterated.
Back to the task in hand, pushing myself off the sofa that’s still wrapped in industrial cling film. I’ll take that off later . Making my way back downstairs, there are a few boxes left that need to be taken upstairs and that one huge snug chair. The movers buried it under some boxes and now I have to move it up by myself. I can do it. Right?
I’ve already taken the cushions up, so it’s just the chair itself. But after moving the boxes up and down the stairs helping the movers, for the last god knows how long I feel like I can’t lift my arms anymore. It’s curved so maybe I can roll it up? Maybe I can wait till Monday and ask one of the builders to do it. Nah, why ask a man when you can do it yourself?
I'm about to push it towards the stairs when my phone rings and it takes me a few seconds to realise it's upstairs.
“Fuck-sake,” I curse while I sprint up the steps with heavy limbs. Grabbing it off the sofa where I left it, I answer it without looking.
“Hello,” I say, slightly out of breath.
“Is everything alright, Charlotte?” Now there are only three people who call me by my full name: my mum and dad and my old boss, Simon Brooke.
“Simon, what do I owe the pleasure of your call? I’m sorry, it’s moving day. I had to search for my phone.”
He chuckles. “I want to ask you a question?” As always, he’s just business.
“Fire away,” I say, settling down on the sofa that's facing the wrong way in my living room.
“I’d like you to continue working with us. For me.” I thought he would have given up by now.
“Simon, we’ve been through this,” I tell him, a little frustrated he keeps asking.
“You were always good at seeing what others couldn't, finding the missing pieces to the puzzle. I need someone on my side, Charlotte,” he says, and I can hear him tapping his pen, probably against his huge antique oak desk. Something he only does when he’s under a lot of stress.
“Thank you, but I’m going to have to say no. As much as I would like to help you, I just don't have the time right now. What else has happened, Simon?” Leaning forward slightly, my stomach in knots. The last case I worked on, I had to hand back to Simon to take over when I handed in my resignation a month ago. I don’t want to get sucked back into that world.
“I can't tell you, not unless you decide to work for me again. Just say you’ll think about it… please?” he sounds even more anxious and worn out than usual.
“I’ll think about it, I promise. Is everything okay?” my concern rises when his voice wavers.
“In all seriousness, Charlotte, I don't know anymore.” He hangs up before I can say another word and the knot in my stomach gets a little tighter because Simon's never done that before. Shit .
I’ll call him back in a few days. See if I can get to the bottom of this.
“Who was that?”
I scream as I look up to find Owen standing in my kitchen. Leaning against the countertop like he has always been there. “Fuck me,” I mumble.
“With pleasure,” Owen replies, raising his eyebrows at me, before looking through a box in front of him.
“Ha, funny. How do you do that? With the sheer size of you, how do you sneak up on people like that?” Standing, I walk to the kitchen, moving the box away from him. It has a few bedroom items in I’m not willing for him to see.
“I’ve already seen what’s in there. You can be sure we’ll be using those at some point.” That sets my lady parts on fire, right there. I back away slightly because if I don’t, I will jump him. I want to shower first before I do anything else. Again? Was yesterday not enough? My body reacts to him just standing there. Lean, muscled, dark, sexy… my body inwardly shivers with the thought.
“Stealth is my superpower.” he reaches for the box again, but takes it to the bedroom, placing it on my bed. That's one thing I've managed to get sorted today, so it’s ready for me to collapse into later.
“Comparing yourself to a superhero is a little big-headed, isn't it?” leaning down, I shift a couple more boxes, and when I turn around, I crash into his chest. Hard, sculpted, warm, solid, unbreakable.
Planting my hands on him, his hands go to my hips and he pulls me closer. So much for trying to maintain my distance. My body tries to defy me, wanting to get as close as possible.
“Who was that on the phone? It sounded serious?” he asks again, but I'm not willing to answer.
“Nothing you need to know about,” I say, still trying to escape him as his hands sneak down to my arse and it does all the amazing zingy things to me.
Taking a deep breath, I manage to catch myself before I get lost in him. Again. “No, I need to get stuff done before I can even think about doing that again,” I tell him, looking over him, like the hot, sinful, tempting god of a man he is. “And I’m not sure I can. My lady parts can only take so much. They may need a rest.” My lady parts, however, seem to have other ideas. I need to take control of the urge to lift his t-shirt and lick him.
Pointing down to the offending and treacherous area, I look into those emerald green eyes of his and watch the frown form on his face. Then a look crosses his face. I'm not sure what it is; a glint in his eyes.
“I can help on every count. No sex, but I will make you feel better. What stuff do you need to do? Other than me.” smirking at me, I can’t help but laugh. He’s got such an easy charm about him. Cheeky, but so caveman at the same time. I want to be disgusted at myself for how much I like that side, but I just can't. I like what I like... and right now, caveman is apparently doing it for me on every level.
“I need that big chair downstairs moving up here, I need to find my dress for the ball tomorrow and I need to get showered before I head to Millie’s.”
“Consider it all done,” he states before heading downstairs without a backwards glance.
I start hunting for my dress. Three boxes and a lot of mess scattered around my new apartment later, I spot a sea of blue and gold. Bingo . Taking it from the box, I hang it up, ready to take into the bathroom later so the steam when I shower can ease out the creases.
“Who’s taking you to the ball?” Owen appears again. The frown on his perfect, menacing face is set firm as he looks over the dress.
“No one. Millie only invited me the other day. I don’t know anyone apart from her, Jack, Em, and Dan, and I suppose you now. That reminds me. We need to finish those twenty questions,” I add, trying to sort the carnage around me.
“I’ll take you.” It's not a question. I’m stunned for a moment. I don’t want to date anyone. I don’t want a relationship. What we have already is good, more than good, amazing actually . The sex, that’s what I mean, that’s all it is. Amazing sex.
“This,” I say, pointing between us, “is just sex. If you take me to the ball, it means more. I’m not ready for more. I don’t want or need more.” Although, the way my body reacts to him, I'm not sure I want to get rid of that soon either.
“No strings attached, promise.” Arching a single dark brown eyebrow, those eyes focus on me. Shitting hell, I’m in trouble.
“Umm... I’ll think about it. Did you need a hand with the chair?
“Already done. We just need to take that shower.”
We?
“What? How? How did you do it? You know what, I don’t care, but thank you… wait...” I pause when I notice a look in his deep green eyes. Maybe it's mischief. Need. I don’t care what the look is, it sets me on fire.
“We… are not taking a shower together. I’m hot, sweaty, and dirty. Not happening, Owen. I’m showering on my own.” He stalks towards me. Oh my god, I want to tackle him to the floor and take whatever he is willing to give me, even in my current state. The worst part is, I know it will be good. I need to find a better word to describe what happens between us, because good does not do it justice. It feels…
Intense?
Heated?
Powerful?
Right?
“Yes, we are. I said I would make you feel better and the best way to do that is to… let me make you feel good .” Emphasising the word good , his tongue traces his lower lip as he reaches for me. “Plus, I like you hot, sweaty, and dirty. It’s one of my favourite combinations so far.” I step back, but my legs hit the bed and I have no option but to stay where I am, trapped.
“How could you possibly make me feel good ?” I tease, slipping off my trainers and stepping up on the bed, so my chest is directly in his face. I grab the hem of my top, lifting it over my head, and tossing it down beside my feet.
“I’ll soothe every ache you have in that shower.” His voice is playful and low. Reaching round to my back, he unhooks my bra and slides it down my arms. His fingers graze my sides, while he runs the tip of his nose down the centre of my chest, my body erupting with shivers so divine I have to hold back a moan.
“Umm…” It’s a low rumble that makes me squeeze my thighs together. He smiles, as he hooks his thumbs in each side of my joggers, slipping them off along with my knickers. And just like that, I'm naked in front of Owen Archie Stone, again, while he is fully dressed. I need to rectify this situation.
“This is not fair. Strip and I may see about the shower thing.” I can’t help but laugh a little as he strips in what feels like seconds, leaving him stark naked in front of me. For a man I’ve slept with multiple times, I’ve never seen him naked. Last night it was too dark to take in the fine details of his body, but right now, in the brightly lit room of my new apartment, I can see everything.
My tongue slips out to lick my lips in appreciation, pulling my bottom lip in between my teeth, in the hope this will stop me from whimpering like a puppy ready to lick… well, anything right now.
Lean, muscular, and magnificent.
What really takes my breath away is his tattoo. I'm not sure how I could have missed it. It is huge and dark, with shades of greys and blacks. The design is exquisite; fire and flames all wrapped in a design style I have never seen before, like a mix of tribal and intricate life-like drawings. It’s beautiful and breathtaking just like him.
Reaching my hand out to trace it, I start at his shoulder, outlining where the flames run down his arm, my breath catching when I trail my fingers over his tight pecks flickering around his side and back, down to below his boxer line, where they would disappear if he were wearing any, but right now he’s not and my fingers keep going towards where the intricate mix of flames and triable design end and his impressive manhood stands proud.
I need to breathe.
“You like?” he questions, but I can’t reply. It’s phenomenal. He’s phenomenal. With this and his cheeky, manly, demanding, caveman ways combined, I… how can I combat what is happening in between my legs… between us?
Freaking impossible
I try to clear my throat, but it comes out as a whimper. I look up to find Owen’s hooded eyes, a deeper shade of emerald, searching for what, I'm not sure.
“Take me to the shower,” I say on an exhale. He takes my hand, lacing our fingers together before leading the way.
I’m glad the apartment was refurbished before I bought it. It's light, bright and spacious. The bathroom is no different, with a walk-in shower and separate bath.
Owen turns the shower on and pulls me in, making me gasp as the cold water hits my overheated body.
Stepping under the water with me, he lifts my chin with his fingers and kisses me. His kiss is tender, deep, and sensual, his fingers tugging at my wet hair, exciting a gasp from my lips.
“Let me clean you up,” he says breathlessly against my lips when he eventually breaks our kiss. He turns me so my back faces him as he squeezes the cherry-scented shower gel directly onto my body, working it up into a bubbly lather with his hands.
I’ve never showered with anyone like this before and I'm wet in more ways than one as he cleans every inch of me with tenderness and warmth. When his hand dips between my thighs, the low rumble in his chest tells me he likes what he’s found.
“You feel good, Angel,” he says into my ear, before he spins me around, pressing my back to the cold shower tiles. “It’s all you,” I tell him. He lowers himself to his knees, water droplets hitting his back, like they are trying to put out the flames that cover his body, but with no success.
Spreading my legs, he lifts one over his shoulder, followed by the other. My hands grip his hair. I’m already on edge, and he’s not done anything yet.
Balanced between the wall and his shoulders, his face is between my thighs and his hands hold my arse in place, his mouth and tongue already lapping up the effect he has on me.
“Oh, my god.” He possesses me like he’s ravenous and can’t get enough. I know I'm swollen down there from what we did yesterday, but I don’t care and he doesn’t seem to either.
With each lick, suck, and swirl of his tongue, I have to grip harder, my head falling back onto the tiles as the crazy feelings he’s stirring up inside me sweep over me. Pleasure surges through me, wrapping around my core, tightening until it’s all I can focus on and I come. No, I explode. When I slowly float down from my high, he’s still enjoying every second of what he has just so expertly bestowed on me. Looking up at me with so much heat in his eyes, I know I need to repay the favour if we are not having sex tonight. He needs to enjoy this too.
Owen slowly lowers my legs that feel like jelly, but holds on to me when I wobble. He captures my mouth with his in almost the same way he did with my core. It’s hard, bruising, and soul-capturing. My arms wrap around his neck, gliding over his broad, toned shoulders. Desperate to return the favour, I slide down against the tiled wall until his engorged dick is aimed right at my face.
“Angel, you don’t have to… fuck—” That’s all he gets out as I take him in my mouth.