Thirty-Three #3
He’s grinning now, and it’s her favorite, favorite, favorite expression of all.
“No you’re not.” He cups her face, pulling her flush with his chest. “You’re exceptional, Charlie Rogers.”
His mouth crashes into hers.
Stars erupt behind her eyes. All her worries and fears from the last several months vanish.
Burying his hands in her hair, Wes deepens their kiss.
When he lifts her onto the table, she hears a crash, one of the boxes falling to the ground, but a hurricane could barrel through the expo right now and she wouldn’t notice.
As he steps between her thighs, tugging her closer, his tongue sweeps into her mouth, and when she hears the moan in his throat, she wants to swallow him whole.
Light blooms inside her chest, a feeling of delirious happiness, of absolute rightness, burning through her.
He draws back, his lips hovering over hers. “Does this mean you’re ranking me higher than Stinky Feet Colin?”
She shakes with insuppressible laughter, clutching his shoulders, and his grin is the most beautiful sight. He leans in again, but just then a loud squawk comes from her walkie-talkie.
“Charlotte Rogers, do you read me?” Carolyn’s voice trills from the device. “Come in, Lead Program Director Charlotte Rogers.”
Realizing she’s practically climbing Wes in public at her event with hundreds of people around them, she shoots him a sheepish smile before plucking the device from her hip.
“Copy that, this is Charlotte Rogers.” She can’t even be bothered to berate Carolyn for using her full name, too deliriously happy to care.
“If you could kindly make your way over to the left entrance of the main stage, a reporter from Buzzfeed would like to interview you.”
Charlie’s eyes widen, and she exchanges a look of bewilderment with Wes. “Buzzfeed? Like, the online news outlet?”
“That’s the one!” Carolyn chirps. “See you soon, tiger! Over and out!”
Still perched on the table with Wes between her legs, Charlie laughs. “I’m being very unprofessional right now.”
Wes grins, tugging on a curl, and she’s never felt more desired. “You deserve to be a little unprofessional.”
She slides off the table, and his hands slip to her waist, tugging her against him.
“I have to go,” she says, half-heartedly pushing on his chest.
Cupping her face, he drags his lips across her cheek to her temple before pulling back. “Go. Be the incredible woman you are. You’ve accomplished something remarkable here.”
An adoration she’s certain he’s never fully revealed shines from his face. Her body fizzes, aching for more, for all of it, for everything.
“I hope this works,” she whispers.
He kisses her again, and she leans in, fingers fisting his shirt, unwilling to stop. He draws away first. “It will. Will you come to my place after? I’ve missed you.”
The question contains so much hope and promise and something new.
She nods, her stomach swooping like she’s missed a step. “Yes. I’ve missed you too.”
He presses his lips to the corner of her mouth. “And stay over? Please stay. I want to take my time with you.”
She shivers as his lips ghost along the curve of her jaw. “I will.”
“Promise?”
Charlie nods. Vigorously, enthusiastically. She is entirely unwilling to be anywhere else after this. “I promise.”
She kisses him one more time, tender and soft, a delicate brush of his tongue against hers, a preview of so much more to come. She can feel the pressure of his lips long after she disentangles from him with great reluctance.
Making her way through the crowd, she spots Carolyn on the left side of the stage. Carrying a clipboard, she too wears a bright pink expo shirt tucked into a pair of dark-wash jeans. When she spots Charlie, she waves.
“Hi, hey, hello.” Today her braids are woven with blue, white, and pink ribbons. “You doing okay, Miss Program Director?”
Charlie laughs. “I’m great. Buzzfeed? How’d we get them to come?”
Carolyn flashes a coy smile, gesturing to the female journalist standing a few feet away, currently interviewing Victoria.
“I sent more than a few DMs and tagged them in a couple of posts. But it wasn’t until Theo, Betsy, and Ryder posted about the expo on their socials that they finally reached out. ” She shrugs. “No big deal.”
Ironically, the clinic fire drew more attention to the event. In addition to Theo and Betsy, a bunch of the vendors posted about the damage, encouraging their followers to donate or attend the event and highlighting the importance of clinics like The Wild Rue to their communities.
“Thank you,” Charlie says.
Carolyn winks. “Go on.”
When Victoria spots her, she throws her arms open wide. “And this is our outstanding program director, Charlie Rogers!”
The journalist, a tall woman with chestnut hair pulled into a high ponytail, turns, her sharp blue eyes assessing Charlie with interest. Phone in one hand, she extends the other for Charlie to shake.
“Charlie, an absolute pleasure to meet you. This event is outstanding! It’s like Coachella for sex!”
Victoria laughs, flashing two thumbs up.
“I’d love to hear more about how an event like this could have an impact on how we talk about sex and sexual health in this country.”
Charlie looks at Victoria, who simply opens her hands in a gesture implying the floor is hers.
“I think it’s time people are given proper sex education so they have everything they need to decide what’s right for their bodies.” Charlie smiles. “That’s all anyone wants. The freedom to choose.”