4. Bump In The Night
FOUR
THEO
The kid definitely saw me pull into the parking lot.
Cursing my bad timing, I throw the SUV into park, settling against the seat as I wait for him to come ask what I’m doing here.
Dane Lawson. I knew little about him before now, except that he’s Charity’s much younger brother. He didn’t visit her in New York, and she rarely came to see him here, so I never gave him much thought.
Scrolling through the document Rollo emailed me, my eyes catch on a few key points. Dane was involved in Malik Danner’s shooting over the winter. Apparently, Charity’s brother is the one who found Malik and took him to Anita’s medical practice. He saved Malik’s life, and he’s reaping the benefits of his heroism if the number written on the salary line is to be believed.
I didn’t make money like that until I was in my thirties, and this kid can’t even legally drink.
Dane’s apartment door opens, and I drop the phone in my lap. I expect him to walk straight to me, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even look my way as he gets in his car. There’s a long moment of stillness, but his engine purrs to life right as my phone starts to vibrate.
“Dane.”
“Theo,” the kid snarks back, his voice full of smug satisfaction. “How’d you know it was me?”
“You’re the only unknown number I was expecting.”
“Why were you expecting my call?” He pauses after the question, but it isn’t long enough for me to answer. “Could it have anything to do with you staking out my apartment?”
The kid’s got balls; I’ll give him that. “Who says I’m outside your apartment?”
“Unless you’re slipping it to my eighty-year-old neighbor?—”
“Mrs. Jenkins is a lovely woman.”
“Ew, dude. I do not want to know how you know her name.” Dane audibly shudders at the thought, and I can’t contain the laughter bubbling up my throat. Unfortunately, the sound dies quickly when Dane asks, “Does this have something to do with my sister being in town?”
“Is she?” I keep my tone neutral, hoping the kid won’t see through the lie. “I hadn’t heard.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
He’s wrong, but I don’t argue. “You’re asking for more than you can handle, kid.”
Dane goes quiet for a moment, the clicking of his blinker the only sound coming through the phone. “Am I right, though?”
Sighing, I ignore his question and ask one of my own. “Why is your sister in town?”
“Her ex was being shitty.”
Two parts of his sentence pique my interest, and I’m too invested in the answers to filter the next question that comes out of my mouth. “Which ex, and how shitty?”
Even I can hear the biting command in those words. Dane doesn’t get a chance to respond before the apartment door I’ve been staring at opens.
“I have to go.”
“I wasn’t?—”
I hang up while he’s still talking, my focus narrowing on Charity as she creeps down the stairs toward the parking lot. She looks calmer than she had been at the bar earlier, though she’s still wearing my sweater over the fucking t-shirt dress that barely comes to the middle of her thighs. She’s taken off her combat boots and is padding across the sidewalk in just a pair of oversized wool socks that look more comfortable than functional.
Charity moves lazily toward the trunk of her car, and I sink further into the shadows in the hopes she won’t spot me watching her. She must feel my eyes against her skin because she slows to a stop, her gaze darting once around the parking lot before she disappears.
I damn near bolt out of the driver’s seat in my attempt to see where she’s gone, but there’s no sign of her. Swearing, I grab my gun from the space between the seat and the console, rolling out of the car with practiced ease. The door closes with a nearly silent click that sounds like a cannon blast in the too-quiet parking lot.
Moving into the shadows, I force a breath through my nose and out my mouth. I’m about to round the corner when something shifts behind me. Instinct has me ducking as I spin toward the disturbance. My hand snaps up, pointing my gun at the shape in the shadows.
“You gonna shoot me, Dickbag?”
“Viper?”
My heart pounds as she moves closer, one perfectly manicured hand coming up to press the gun away from her chest. There isn’t enough light to see the play of greens, blues, and purples in the holographic black polish covering her nails, but I know it’s there. “Easy, big guy. I’m not trying to spend the night in the ER.”
I don’t tell her she wouldn’t have lived long enough to make it to the ER if I’d shot her. “Then you shouldn’t sneak up on a man with a gun.”
“Fair enough,” she concedes, moving into my space now that the gun is no longer between us. “What are you doing here, Dickbag?”
“You first, Viper. How did you do that?”
“Do what?” She’s close enough now for me to see the ghost of a smile on her face.
“You disappeared.”
“Growing up with a dad in the Mafia has its perks.” She moves in the dark, stepping so close I can feel her words against the skin of my throat. “Back to my question,” she murmurs, running the tips of her nails up my arm. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m watching you.”
“Watching me?” She doesn’t sound surprised as she walks her nails across my chest. “What were you hoping to see, Dickbag?”
“Tell me why you’re in Forest Falls, Viper.” Talking around the tightness in my throat when her nails dig into my skin feels impossible, but I force the words out anyway. “I can help.”
“I don’t want your help, Dickbag.”
My hand closes around her wrist before she can drag those fingers any lower. “Then what do you want?”
Eyes as dark as Bray Creek Lake peer up at me. Varying answers dance across her face before something seems to settle in her mind. “What do you want?”
“Everything, so try again.” I step forward, guiding her around until she’s pressed against the side of the SUV. My body blocks her from sight, not that there’s enough light over here for anyone in the apartments to see her. “What do you want, Viper?”
“I want to forget.” Her sigh is nothing more than a soft puff of air against my cheek, but it feels strong enough to create a bubble around us. “I want you to make me forget.”
It feels like she wants me to kiss her, but I can’t risk crossing that line without express permission. “How should I make you forget?”
“Dickbag,” she growls the terrible nickname, digging her nails into my shoulders as she tries to pull me closer.
I don’t budge. “You want me to kiss you, Viper?”
“Yes.” Relief is palpable in the word, and I have to bite back a smile. All the times I imagined this—having her needy and pliant in my arms—I never thought we would be in an apartment complex parking lot. I’m not about to let it stop me, though.
Gently, so gently it nearly kills me, I brush our lips together. Charity immediately demands more, pressing forward until there’s no space left between us. She tastes faintly of whiskey and oranges, and I know deep in my soul that this isn’t enough. It will never be enough. I need more of her, all of her, to take and take until there’s nothing left of her or me. Just us, for the rest of time.
“Please.” Her desperate plea cuts through my overwhelming thoughts.
“You want more?” She doesn’t say anything, but I feel her nod in response. “You want me to touch you?”
“Please,” she repeats, shifting so there’s room for me to slide a hand between us. Smiling, I carefully drag my hands down her sides. Charity sighs, leaning back when I reach the hem of her t-shirt.
“Do you want me to touch,” my fingers dip beneath the shirt, fabric pooling around my wrists as I glide my hands back up her bare thighs. “Here?” My fingertips brush the soft fabric of her underwear, and Charity groans, tipping her head back until it thuds against the cold glass of the car window. Unable to resist what’s so readily offered, I bend to press a line of kisses down the smooth skin of her neck. “Use your words, Viper.”
“Yes.”
It’s amazing how one word can change everything. I’m on my knees before my brain can catch up with my body’s intent. Charity gasps when I lift her off the ground, settling her thighs over my shoulders. Sharp nails dig into my scalp, but there isn’t enough hair left for her to hold onto. I’ve been growing it back out since I was forced to shave it, but now I wish it had grown faster.
“Fuck, D-D-ah,” she stutters, and for a moment it almost sounds like she was about to call me Daddy. What little blood was left in my head rushes to my cock at the thought. I have never had a woman call me Daddy before, but it would appear I’m not opposed to the idea.
“What was that?” I pause in my forward pursuit to look up at her.
“Nothing.”
“Something.”
“I just,” she sighs, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “It feels wrong calling you Dickbag when you’re between my thighs.”
Nodding, I lift one hand to wrap around her leg. “What would you like to call me, then?”
“I d-don’t know.”
“Well,” my free hand slides across the soaked fabric of her underwear, dipping beneath to tease her. Charity instantly tries to buck her hips, but I have her pinned between me and the car. “It’s up to you,” I lean forward until I can press my mouth to the thin cotton covering her clit. Charity gasps, grinding her hips against my mouth. “But if you want,” I smirk at her sharp inhale. “I could give you some suggestions.”
“Suggestions?”
Pulling her underwear to the side, I drag my tongue from the spot my fingers are pressing into her all the way to her clit and back again. Her head snaps back when my thumb begins rubbing gentle circles around the edges of her clit.
“I’ll call you whatever you want if it gets you to fucking touch me.”
“I am touching?—”
“What are my options?”
“You can call me Theo,” I drag my thumb across her clit, and she nearly sobs in relief. “Or sir.”
Focusing on the way her hips grind against my thumb, I set a rhythm that has her cursing and begging for more in no time. “Of course, if you’re desperate,” I pull my thumb back, replacing it with my tongue. Charity whines in her throat as her nails scrape along my scalp. She does her best to hold me in place, but I pull back momentarily, allowing her frustration to build. “You could always call me Daddy.”
I don’t wait for her to respond, diving forward again. She groans a needy sound that’s quickly replaced by pleasure. Her hips stutter when my fingers rub against a spot deep inside her, but I keep the same rhythm with my tongue. “Fuck, Di—uh, shit. Th-Theo? I, please. I need. I, fuck.”
I don’t move.
“Dammit! I need more, Theo.”
The only change is my eyes meeting hers in the dark.
“You’re really gonna make me call you sir?”
I twist my wrist, making her cry out, and grind down against my face. She drags her clit against my tongue a few times, but I hear the desperation creep back into her voice. “Mother fucker,” she grinds out, pressing a heel into my spine in an attempt to make me give her more. She’s vastly underestimating how much I’m enjoying being between her thighs, the taste of her on my tongue, dripping down my chin, squeezing around my fingers. I could live here forever. I could die here, a happy man.
“Please,” she begs, her legs squeezing on either side of my head. “I, please. It’s, fuck, fine. Please, Daddy.”
My lips close around her clit the moment the word leaves her mouth. Charity’s entire body locks up, a string of pleas and curses filling the air as I give her everything she’s asking for. More, faster, harder, there, please, there.
Daddy.
She comes like a fucking dream, her head tipped back, mouth open in a perfect O. I watch her come down, gently dragging my fingers in and out until she shudders and shifts her hips. I help her off my shoulders, placing a kiss on the inside of each thigh before setting her feet back on the ground. She doesn’t seem to have much control over her legs yet, so I hold her hips steady as I get off my knees. When my face is within grabbing distance, she pulls me in for an Earth-shattering kiss.
“You need to go back inside, Viper.” It pains me to say the words, but reality is creeping back in at the edges, and I’m realizing how fucking stupid this was.
“But what about you?”
Her question brings my attention to my painfully hard cock. The idea of her on her knees for me is nearly enough to have me coming in my pants like a teenager, but I’ve risked her safety enough for one evening. “I’m fine. You need to get inside, it’s cold out here.”
Charity bristles, all softness left from her orgasm disappearing in the blink of an eye. “Sure thing, Dickbag.”
The way she spits the name at me makes it clear I’ve fucked up, but I’m not sure how. “It’s dangerous?—”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. All things go bump in the night in Forest Falls,” she shoves past me, and I let her go, watching as she stomps across the parking lot and up the stairs. I don’t breathe until the apartment door closes behind her.
Getting back into the SUV, I settle into the driver’s seat with a sigh. Of course, I’ve fucked this up. Thinking back over the last two minutes, I can’t pinpoint what I did wrong.
The thoughts keep me occupied for the rest of the night. By the time Dane pulls back into the parking lot, I’m no more certain of what I’ve done wrong than I was when Charity shoved me out of her way.
I’m halfway home when my phone vibrates loudly against the dashboard.
“Sir.”
“Get to Callum’s,” Grant’s tone brooks no argument, and I instantly turn on my blinker, moving into the turn lane. It’s going to be a long fucking day.