Chapter 24 Charlie
charlie
I’d never judged him for his past, but the kind of change he was fighting for took grit, and maybe that’s why I’d agreed to this arrangement. I saw how much he wanted to be better—for himself.
Still, the dangerous what-ifs crept in. What if this wasn’t just an arrangement? What if his past and my fears weren’t in the way? But if we were going to make this work, it had to be real—grounded in truth and trust. No shortcuts. No rushing.
I sighed, rolled onto my side, and stared into the dark. Sleep felt far away, but I wasn’t going to let my doubts ruin what we were trying to build.
I clenched my eyes shut, willing my thoughts to quiet, but he was there—those piercing blue eyes, hungry enough to steal my breath. I could still hear the rough edge in his voice when he asked for a kiss, low and unguarded.
My mind slid into dangerous territory: the way he’d looked at me last night, gaze lingering between my legs like he was memorizing every inch. The parting of his lips, the restraint in his eyes, the ghost of his hands on my skin. Heat curled through me until the room felt too charged to breathe.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I groaned, throwing the covers off. “I must be ovulating.”
It was the only explanation for why my body was betraying me like this, craving him with a desperation that wouldn’t let me rest.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and made my way to the walk-in closet.
Inside the closet was a vintage chest. It had large ornate handles, a deep cherrywood color, and to the naked eye, it looked like any other dresser.
My fingers trailed over the cool, polished surface before I reached the lowest drawer.
An array of toys gleamed under the soft light: a sleek black vibrator, a ridged one for added torment, a light blue wand, and a delicate glass dildo with swirls of pink and blue.
A rose-shaped clitoral stimulator sat next to velvet cuffs, their silver clasps pristine.
My fingers hovered over the collection, my thoughts drifting to Austin—his eyes, his voice, the way he’d looked at me last night. My breath quickened as I quickly grabbed my favorite toy, the light blue wand massager.
I walked toward the bed and tucked myself under the covers as I opened my eyes and waited, listening . . . Nothing. He must’ve been asleep. And besides, the wand was the quietest toy I owned. There was no way he’d hear it.
The soft hum of the wand filled the room as I turned it on. Slipping my hands under the covers, I shimmied out of my pajama shorts, my thong sliding down with them in one smooth motion. I kicked the covers down, exposing myself to the crisp, cool air.
I let my knees fall open. The deep buzz rattled up my arm, my body already tightening in anticipation.
I dragged it slowly up the inside of my thigh, stopping just short of where I ached the most. The vibrations pulsed through my skin, each thrum sending heat pooling low and hot between my legs.
My breath caught, hips tipping toward the promise of more, and when a needy groan broke free, I slapped a hand over my mouth.
You’re not alone, I reminded myself, the knowledge adding a forbidden thrill to the moment.
My eyes fluttered shut, and I felt his gaze again—those intense blue eyes devouring me. In my mind, his tongue was on my clit, slow and relentless, coaxing every gasp until my pulse throbbed with him.
Slowly, I moved the wand higher, letting the buzzing trail along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh until it finally pressed against my clit.
The jolt of sensation was immediate, spreading heat through my entire body.
My hips bucked instinctively, seeking more of that delicious pressure.
It was as if his mouth was on me again, his hands guiding me to the edge, his breath hot against my skin.
The vibrations pulsed in rhythm with my racing heartbeat, each wave more intense than the last. My hand trembled as I pressed the wand harder, my mind consumed by the image of his fingers plunging deep inside me.
I bit down on my lip, struggling to keep quiet as my body came alive under the relentless buzz, every nerve ending ignited, every thought centered on him.
My hips bucked against the wand, desperate for more, but it still wasn’t enough.
A frustrated groan escaped my lips as I opened my eyes, adjusting my position.
I spread my legs wider, grinding harder against the relentless buzz, chasing that deeper, harder release.
The slick heat between my thighs made every movement more intense, but the ache inside me only grew sharper.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
I should’ve grabbed the dildo—the thought of something thick and deep filling me soaked me. My body was screaming for it, the empty pulsing inside me begging to be satisfied.
As I adjusted, ready to lose myself again, a small click echoed through the room, and my head snapped toward the door.