16. Presenting a deal to the devil
CHAPTER 16
PRESENTING A DEAL TO THE DEVIL
EMMA
T he first time I remember enjoying sex, or more specifically, the first time I understood why other people enjoy sex, I was alone.
It was a relief at the time, to finally get it, but I really, really want to enjoy it with someone else.
Kissing and touching. Lips and fingers trailing my neck and a hot body over or under, in front or behind me. Somebody else’s skin under my hands, the salt and sweat and taste of them on my tongue. The hot press of them inside me.
It’s all so wonderful… until it’s not.
Because sex is a journey with a destination. A destination I can never arrive at when I’m traveling with a partner.
I’m sick of explaining it. Of thinking about it. Of wishing I was different.
I’m going to guess that, in Charlie’s life, the count of unsatisfied women is zero.
How could it not be? Look at him. This is a guy with techniques. He’s going to hear “I can’t come,” and take it as a personal challenge. New objective unlocked.
I only hope that if (when) it fails, he doesn’t hate me more than he already does.
“Isn’t this cozy,” Charlie says. He’s casually sprawled on my sofa, his arm out, one foot balanced on his knee, looking like an invitation. Corner of his smile clicked into place like taking the safety off a gun.
No doubt he still tastes of danger and coffee.
He’s still in his suit, but this is the most relaxed I’ve seen him. Collar undone, tie loose, cuffs rolled. It’s giving him a rugged, off-duty look. Combined with his leather bracelets and tanned forearms, he is the definition of delicious.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask, stalling.
Charlie declines with a shake of his head, which is good, because I only have water and coffee.
I don’t host. It isn’t a skill I ever took to, something I’m sure keeps my mother awake at night. And in the last several years, I’ve had little opportunity. Logan always preferred his apartment, and Ivy comes prepared.
Hands sweaty and courage fading, I clear my throat. This is it.
If I go ahead with this, our relationship won’t be the same.
Time to rip off the Band-Aid. “I have a proposal.”
Charlie immediately nods. “I’ll do it.”
“Can you be quiet for five seconds?” I retort, smiling against my will. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”
“You invited me over, it’s late, and you haven’t stopped staring at my mouth since I got here,” he says, wiggling his brows. “I’m in.”
Those damn dimples are going to be my downfall. I just know it.
Flushing, I force my eyes back up to his. “Are you finished, or should I come back later?”
“It won’t change my answer, but sure.” He waves a hand. “Go ahead.”
I sigh. Maybe this is a terrible idea.
“I…” Shit. Okay. “I have a problem that I can’t solve by myself.” I sincerely never imagined admitting this to him, but here we are. “It’s… personal.”
He shifts forward, lowering his foot, eyes intense. “How personal?”
“Intimately.”
Charlie takes a long, slow breath as the implication lands. “I see. And you want my help with it.”
Heat creeps up the back of my neck as I nod.
“For the last few years, I haven’t been able to come during sex.”
I dive into how it’s not a problem on my own, how it’s ruined my relationships, and how, if I could just work out why, I could get Logan back. How much time I’ve spent trying and failing.
“I don’t know what else to do.”
My mouth is suddenly dry. It’s one thing to admit it to someone I’m already involved with, naked in every way I could be. Why did I think it would be easier with clothes on?
“Hey,” Charlie says, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard before. Christ, he’s being gentle with me. I didn’t know Charlie could be gentle.
It’s only when he touches me that I realize he’s moved. He’s hovering in front of me, cupping my elbows in his palms and stroking calmly with his thumbs. It’s grounding.
“Hey,” he repeats, ducking down until our eyes meet. His are so bright. “You don’t have to tell me any of this if you don’t want to.”
“I do,” I rasp. “Want to.”
It’s easier to match his breathing now that he’s closer.
I’m not sure what fixing myself even looks like. Freedom, I guess. Or peace, maybe. Letting go. Being present. Being intimate without constantly worrying that I’m going to fuck it up. Or worse, be disappointing.
“Why me?” he asks.
Ah. The difficult part. He’ll either storm out or… I don’t know. Maybe there is no other option. If our positions were reversed and he said what I’m about to, I’d have a hard time not committing a crime.
“Okay,” I say. My heart is beating so fast I can hear it humming. “It’s going to sound bad, but I need you to listen and let me explain. Then if you want to yell at me, you can.”
His grip on my elbows tightens. He’s bracing himself. “Okay.”
Okay.
“It’s just…” I close my eyes. “I get caught up in thinking about making it good for them, so I thought it might be easier with someone I don’t care about.”
Charlie’s hands go still for an instant before he drops them altogether.
My heart clenches. This was a disastrous idea. We’re finally getting along, and I go and insult him. Great.
“Emma, look at me.”
The command sends a shiver down my spine. If I asked, would he grab me again? Leave marks behind? How far does his gentleness go?
“It must be pretty serious if you have to ask me.”
“It is.” So serious, in fact, I wonder if this is a huge mistake.
He’s quiet. Too quiet. His expression is intent as he studies my face.
Truth be told, this feels like my last hope. Logan tried to make it work, but by the end, he barely wanted to touch me because it was inevitable that sex would lead to disappointment.
If I can’t solve this, I don’t know what I’ll do.
I don’t want to spend forever alone.
Charlie returns to the couch, his earlier smile long gone. “Tell me more about this proposal. What would you need from me?”
I treat it like a business deal. That, at least, I know how to handle.
“We meet once a week for sex. You’ll come here and leave when we’re done. You should review the list of things I’ve tried so that you can see what hasn’t worked and what I don’t like. If it’s not working or either of us is uncomfortable, we end it.”
He arches a single brow. “And if it works?”
Oh, Charlie. So confident.
“Then that’s it. Arrangement over.”
He’s quiet again, but his attention is laser focused on me.
Finally, he nods once. “I accept.”
My breath catches in my chest. All week, I’ve been preparing for rejection. It’s hard to believe he’s interested at all. “That’s it?” I ask.
His smile spreads slow and easy, and I’m so captivated by his lips I almost forget to listen.
“You got an NDA you need me to sign? T&Cs I should know about?”
I must be more nervous than I thought if Charlie is making me smile right now.
He leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving mine. It’s intoxicating. “I’m in.”
He’s in.
We’re really doing this.
“Not that I’m not grateful,” I say, “But why would you agree to this?”
It’s a lot to ask. It feels selfish, to crave someone’s undivided attention while I switch off for a little while.
Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. If he’s only saying yes because he pities me, I’m not sure I can stand it.
His brow furrows in frustration. The look he’s giving me is one I’m used to receiving from him. “Why?” he scoffs. “Because you’re incredibly sexy, I’m attracted to you, and I want to.”
Well. Okay.
Lucky for me, this sweater hides the goose bumps he just gave me.
“It sounds simple when you put it like that.”
He lifts one shoulder. “It is.”
It doesn’t feel simple, but there he is, with determination in his eyes, and goddamn if it isn’t enough to make me hope.