6. Second Chances
SIX
THEO
“Forty minutes.”
“Perfect, thank you.” I drop the phone in the cup holder, trying to split my attention between the woman at my side and the road ahead. It will only take about five minutes to get to Bray Creek, which means we have thirty-five minutes to kill. I know how I would like to spend those minutes and every other free minute I have for the rest of my life, but I can’t shake the way Charity shoved me away from her last night.
I will not have a repeat of that.
“Ice cream?” Charity stares at the sign in front of the parking space I chose, the question evident in her eyes.
“Ice cream,” I agree, getting out of the car. When she doesn’t immediately follow, I move around to open her door. “Why do you look so surprised?”
“I thought we were getting food?”
“We are, but it isn’t ready yet.”
“So, you thought...ice cream?”
“Do you not like ice cream?” She does. Her favorite is coffee, but she’ll eat chocolate as a begrudging second. She covers both flavors in more caramel than should be legal, and she always gets more than she can eat.
But I shouldn’t know those things.
“I like ice cream,” she rolls her eyes, moving past me without explaining any further. I know she thinks she’s moving fast enough I won’t see the blush creeping across her cheeks, but I do, and now I’m re-evaluating everything.
Again.
Fuck.
I send Charity to find us a table to sit at while I pay. She rolls her eyes at me but picks a spot in a corner near the door. She sits with her back to the entrance, allowing me to take the chair facing the door. I’m not sure if it’s intentional, but I appreciate it either way.
“Why aren’t you fucking Rainbow Brite?”
My attention snaps to her face. She’s watching me with a curious expression, but there’s something unreadable in her gaze. “I told you. She’s too sweet for me.”
“Oh, come on,” Charity flaps a hand in my general direction, her face scrunching as if deep in thought. “No one is too sweet for you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“We both know I’m not gentle enough for you.” My eyebrows shoot up so fast I’m afraid I might pull a muscle in my forehead. “Stop looking at me like that, Dickbag. I only meant I’ve heard the rumors about the type of women you go for, and I’m not...that.”
“You’ve ‘heard the rumors’?” My smile grows wider, making Charity roll her eyes. “Have you been checking up on me, Viper?”
The irony isn’t lost on me, but I do my best to hide my smirk behind another spoonful of ice cream.
“Fuck off,” she waves dismissively at me, her black nail polish flashing purple and green in the sunlight streaming through the window beside us. “All I’m saying is Rainbow Brite seems right up your alley. You know, if you’re looking or whatever.”
“Wisp.”
“What?”
“Rainbow Brite was the name of the show,” I’m enjoying this too much to contain the laughter in my voice. She’s trying to push me on Lucy Doyle? There’s only one reason I can think of why she would do that, and it makes me desperate to get her alone. Now. “The main character’s name was Wisp. And just how many ‘rumors’ have you been hearing about my sex life?”
Charity shifts in her seat, the inky black lines of a tattoo peeking through a rip in the side of her jeans. “I’m not interested in your sex life, Dickbag.”
An unfortunate admission, considering every aspect of her life has been the object of my obsession for the last fifteen years. I know what art school she ran off to when she dropped out of Forest Falls Community College. I tracked every grade she made, every friend she had, and every dollar she spent. I can chronologically list her ex-boyfriends and their current addresses, and I have personally vetted every home she’s had since she moved out of her father’s house. I know exactly how many tattoos and piercings now adorn her skin, though I don’t know what some of those tattoos look like—yet.
“You started this conversation,” I remind her, gently shaking my head to clear the spiraling thoughts. “But I’ll be a gentleman and change the subject.”
“How magnanimous of you.”
“I really am a giver.” Charity makes a snorting noise I’m almost entirely sure is suppressed laughter. I search for a question, anything someone would ask a person they haven’t seen in the better part of two decades. “Where have you been hiding since you ran away?”
“I didn’t run away.”
“You sure about that?”
She leans back, an odd look passing across her face before she shrugs one shoulder. “I’ve been all over the place. Spent the last few years in New York, though.”
“The Big Apple, huh?”
“That’s the one,” it looks like she’s trying to bite back a smile. “Have you ever been?”
“Once,” I admit, but instantly regret it. If she asks me any questions, I will have to lie to her, and I don’t want our first real conversation where my head isn’t between her thighs to be riddled with lies. “Where were you before New York?”
“Seattle for a while,” she rolls the cup in her hand, watching the slightly melted ice cream swirl in gentle circles. “But I was in Florida the longest. That’s where I ended up after I graduated.”
“Where did you end up going to college?”
“You really haven’t been keeping tabs on me at all, have you?”
Her words spike my heart rate, and I wonder if she’s calling me out. “Was I supposed to?”
She gives me an assessing look, but it doesn’t answer any of the questions swirling in my mind. “I went to a university in France.”
“Goddamn.”
“I know,” she huffs, and I swear I see a small smile pull at the corner of her mouth. “Pretentious as fuck.”
“What kind of art did you study there?”
“Painting and sculpture mostly, but my degree is in Art History. And now, I get to draw shit for a living.”
“And that...pays your bills?”
“Yeah, Dickbag,” Charity rolls her eyes again. I hadn’t realized how often she does that.I’d love to help her break the habit. “It pays my fucking bills, thank you.”
“Just making sure,” I force a laugh, trying to keep the conversation light. “Alright, Madame Artiste. Art pays the bills, but what do you do for fun?”
She studies me for a long time, and I watch her right back, hoping she can’t see the barriers I’ve constructed around my soul. “I’m an artist. Drawing is what I do for fun.”
“There has to be something other than art.” My eyes are glued to Charity’s mouth as she pulls the spoon between her lips. When I finally drag my gaze away, she’s giving me a knowing look.
“There really isn’t,” she raises one perfectly sculpted brow at me. “What do you do for fun, Dickbag?”
“I thought you heard the rumors?” Charity’s laugh mimics the low rumble of thunder as it vibrates through her chest. I want to know what it would sound like if she let the noise escape her mouth, but she keeps it hidden behind those dark red lips. “You’ve got some ice cream on your chin.”
I try to point at it, but she just tilts her head to the side as if she doesn’t understand. Her skin is soft under my fingers as I wipe the little dot of coffee ice cream from her chin. Charity’s eyes are laser-focused on my thumb as I bring it to my mouth, cleaning off the sweet, sticky ice cream.
“I think you missed some.” Her breath hitches as she says the words, and I raise my eyebrows.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” the word is almost entirely air, but I hear it just fine.
“Here?” I run my thumb along her lower lip, gently pulling at the center. Leaning in, I let our noses brush, giving Charity time to change her mind. “Or maybe it’s here?” I move my thumb up the side of her jaw, stopping at the hollow spot just below her ear. “I think it’s right...here.”
I seal our lips together, and she instantly melts into me. Fuck, she tastes fantastic. Her mouth has just a hint of cold left from the ice cream, and she tastes like coffee, sugar, and everything that makes life worth living.
I want to drown in all the flavors of Charity Lawson.
Charity pulls away, a slightly amused look in her eyes. “We have to get the food, Dickbag.”
“Yeah,” I agree, but I don’t pull away from her. She rolls her eyes, moving to stand, and I quickly follow.
Morrow’s isn’t busy, so the food is ready and waiting at the hostess stand. The woman is too cheerful, batting her eyelashes and repeatedly asking if there’s anything else she can do for us. I’m sure she’s heard who this food is for, but Charity has different ideas.
“She was flirting with you!”
“That wasn’t flirting.”
“You’ve got to be joking. She was all but rubbing herself on you!”
“You sound jealous,” I comment in as casual a tone as I can manage, turning onto the old dirt road leading to the only public park in Bray Creek. The park has been abandoned for some time, and the path is nearly overgrown but still easy to follow.
“I am not jealous.”
“Of course you aren’t,” I agree, putting the car in park. I’m out the door and halfway around the car before Charity realizes we’ve stopped.
When I open her door, she looks around, curiosity marring her brow. “What are we doing here?”
“Showing you there’s nothing to be jealous of.” Reaching for the handle on the glove box, I pop open the compartment.
Charity’s eyes widen. “Why do you have a glove box full of sex toys?”
“I leave them places.”
“What?” She turns toward me with raised brows. “What kind of places?”
“Friend’s houses, mostly.”
“Why?”
“Because,” I shrug, trying to choose my words carefully. “I know those guys, and they may think they’re getting the job done every time with their dicks alone, but I can promise you they aren’t.”
She stares at me for a long time before her eyes slide back to the glove box.
“Would you like to pick a toy?”
“I’m not, uh. I don’t...” Charity trails off, an overwhelmed look on her face. “I’ve never used any toys.”
It’s my turn to stare at her in shock. “Never? Not even by yourself?”
Color floods her cheeks, and she starts to fidget in her seat. “No.”
“Then, we’ll start slow.”
“What does—Dickbag!”
She squeals when I press my shoulder into the soft skin of her stomach. I grab the little purple bullet-shaped toy and kick the door closed as I spin toward the park. It only takes a moment to get to the picnic table, and I gently slide her over my shoulder until she’s standing on the bench.
“Take off your pants.”
“What?”
“Take off your pants,” I repeat, slower this time.
She rolls her eyes, cocking her hip to the side as she crosses both arms over her chest. “Here?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Okay.” I wrap my arms around her thighs again, tipping her over my shoulder as I turn back toward the car.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
“Going back to the car.”
“Why?”
“You said no.”
She makes a sound like she can’t believe how dumb I am, and I bite down on my lip to keep from laughing out loud. “What if I don’t want to go back to the car?”
My steps slow until I’m stopped halfway between the car and the bench. “You just tell me what you want, Viper. I’ll make it happen.”
“Unlikely,” she mumbles, fingers digging into my lower back muscles. She starts talking again before I can question why she doesn’t believe me. “I want whatever you were about to give me. What was it?”
“An orgasm. Two, if we have time.”
Charity makes a choking sound, and I can’t tell if she’s laughing or crying until she says, “I think I could be persuaded into that.”
We’re back at the table almost instantly, but I can see Charity’s hesitation as her eyes scan the abandoned park. “What if someone sees us?”
My fingers work open her button and zipper since she’s too distracted to do it herself. “I’ll kill them. Now, take off your pants.”
I’ve never seen anyone fight a smile as hard as Charity does. It’s like she’s determined to be angry, no matter what. I want to show her there are all kinds of things to smile about, starting with orgasms in the sun.
Moving around her, I drop my ass onto the picnic table, shuffling until my knees hang off the end. Charity turns to see what I’m doing just as my head falls against the sun-bleached wood tabletop. I quickly strip off my flannel shirt, adjusting it under me until I’m sure her legs will be protected from splinters.
“Uh, Dickbag?”
“Arguing will only cut into the time left for your second orgasm, Viper. Now, come sit on my face.”
She doesn’t move, her eyes locked on me as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Her pants are off, but she’s still wearing orange lacy underwear that are so perfectly Charity Lawson I can’t help but smile.
Charity suddenly moves, stripping off the underwear as she scrambles across my body. She hesitates when she gets to my chest, evidently unsure how to proceed. “Up here, Viper. Spread your legs until you’re comfortable and lean forward so you can brace against the table.”
“Why would I need to—oh, fuck.” Her hands slap against the wood above my head the moment my tongue touches her clit. There’s an angry thrum beneath my skin, begging me to find and kill every man who has ever touched her because they clearly weren’t doing it correctly. Not using sex toys is one thing, but the fact that she has clearly never sat on anyone’s face is a crime.
The realization I’ve already killed one of her exes makes me hum happily, causing Charity to moan and grind down against my face. She tastes like summertime, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get over it. “That’s it, Viper. Take whatever you need.”
She groans, digging several sharp nails into the top of my head as she drags her clit across my tongue again. “Fuck,” she hisses, an almost hysterical edge to the word as she finds her rhythm. I try not to move, allowing her to use my mouth however she sees fit. “Fuck, Theo. Or, uh, sir? I don’t, dammit.”
Her hips stutter, and I quickly reach up to steady her. Charity’s back bends, her legs spreading wider as she chases her orgasm against my mouth. “I need more. I need, fuck. I want,” she corrects, grinding against my tongue so hard I think she might be trying to fuse our bodies together. I like that idea.
“You gonna come for me, Viper?”
“Ohjesuschrist,” she whines as my fingers dig into her hips, guiding her movements when her muscles seem to have stopped cooperating. I can feel how close she is, but something seems to hold her back. She shifts, her eyes meeting mine between her thighs. “Please, Daddy. Can you help me come?”
I’ve died. It’s the only explanation for the odd, floating sensation that has taken over my body at her words. I shift beneath her, pressing my mouth against her clit as I lift her off the tabletop. Spinning, I drop her onto the flannel, my lips still attached to her clit as my fingers press deep into her soaking cunt.
She rides my fingers while I reach back, pulling the toy from my pocket. I turn the vibrator on, the gentle buzzing filling the air around us, but Charity doesn’t notice until I run it along her inner thigh.
“Oh, fuck!” Her head snaps up, eyes locking on mine as I move the toy between her legs. Dragging it against her pussy has the desired effect. Her back arches, head falling back as she pushes her hips toward me.
I do my best not to overwhelm her, alternating between teasing her entrance and circling her clit.
“Daddy,” Charity moans, reaching for me as her legs start to shake. “Daddy, please. I need...I need...”
I’m not sure exactly what she’s asking for since she can’t put it into words, but I give it my best guess. Moving the toy to her clit, I press two fingers deep into her, rubbing the spot that makes her clench around me.
“Fuck, fuck, yes,” Charity shatters, and I ease her through it, pressing gentle kisses to the inside of her thighs and the bottom of her stomach where her t-shirt has ridden up.
“So, that’s a vibrator, then?” She eyes the toy in my hand, and I snort, shifting up to press a kiss to her lips.
“Yes.”
“I like it.”
“Good,” I flash her a bright smile, wiggling my eyebrows. “There’s more where it came from.”
Charity gives me a deadpan look, but I can see the amusement in her eyes. “You’re so dumb.”
“And you,” I run my nose along her jawline before kissing my way down the center of her body. “Are owed a second orgasm.”
“Oh, I don’t think?—”
I cut her off with a nip to her inner thigh. Charity yelps, but it quickly turns to a sharp inhale when I run my tongue against her swollen clit. It takes a minute, but she starts to move her hips in little circles against my face. I wait until she’s all but bucking against my lips to turn the toy on again. I don’t tease her this time, pressing the vibrator as far into her as possible.
Charity screams, her thighs squeezing either side of my head as her clit pulses against my tongue.
“I hate you,” she sighs, dragging her nails along my scalp.
“You have the strangest reaction to orgasms.”
She smiles, and I swear my heart stops at the sight. Bathed in sunlight, freshly fucked, and smiling, she looks like a goddess sent to torture me with her beauty. I would take every ounce of that torture and more if it meant she’d keep smiling at me.
“It should be illegal for someone to be that good with their mouth.” Her fingers trail around the side of my neck, walking across my cheek until she’s tapping my bottom lip with one pointed nail. “But I’m not complaining.”
The tip of her finger dips between my lips, and I instantly pull it further into my mouth, scraping the pad against my teeth. “I should hope not.”
“Let me return the favor.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket as she says the words, and I know we’ve run out of time. Sighing, I shake my head. “We’ve been gone for too long as it is. They’ll send a search party for us if we take any longer.”
I slide off the end of the table, grab her clothes from the bench, and hand them to her so she doesn’t have to move from her spot on the flannel. Charity snatches her jeans from my hand harder than expected, but I don’t realize anything is wrong until she jumps off the side of the table without lacing her boots.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“So, something.”
“Fuck off, Dickbag,” she snaps, jerking open the passenger door of the SUV before I can reach for the handle.
“Charity,” I grab the door frame, stopping her from pulling it shut. “What did I do?”
“Nothing, Theodore. You didn’t do anything at all.” Her words are full of sharp inflections and hidden meanings, but I can’t figure out what’s got her so angry. “Shut the door, Dickbag.”
There’s something final about the snap of the door closing between us, but I’m not sure what to do about it.