Chapter Four

 

Charlie

I bask in the afterglow, in the warmth and weight of his body, his pounding heart pressed so intimately to mine.

It reminds me of all the times I wished I could escape from my life, be who I want to be. Being in his arms is like being in a foreign country—hot, sun-kissed, exotic, exciting—and yet familiar, and comfortable.

I wanted to travel, before I got together with my ex and forgot all about my dreams.

I wanted to find a man who looks like Dante, talks like Dante, who feels like Dante in my arms. He has a fire in his eyes, in his voice, he crackles with energy when he moves, when he talks. He has a sense of humor, and he listens.

I could fall in love with a man like Dante. I have a feeling I’d never have a moment of boredom with him.

It excites me.

He excites me. Lights me up. Makes me want to try things, go places—with him by my side. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alive in all my life until tonight.

Crazy, right?

True, though.

And yet I don’t know him. The tidbits he fed me make me crave more. I want to unlock him, too, to see the cogs and wheels, to see what makes him tick.

Also, the sex is hot. Can’t forget that. We have chemistry. It’s off the charts.

This guy knows how to touch and pleasure and fuck a girl, and this girl is hooked on his grin, his face, and yeah, his dick. Not to forget the shadow of pain that lingers in those gorgeous eyes.

I’m done for.

Uh-oh. This is bad. This is a one-night stand, nothing more.

Don’t fall so easily, Charlie. This is dangerous.

But then he gathers me closer, mumbling something in my hair, and my heart turns over.

So not fair. He’s too handsome to resist.

I squirm until I’m comfortable on his broad chest, and his hand comes up to cradle my head.

“Tell me,” I whisper.

“What?” He blinks down at me. “Tell you what?”

I wasn’t going to do this, push him for more.

Just this one question, I tell myself.

“Tell me about your parents. How you grew up.”

The hazy, sated expression leaves his face. His gaze hardens. “I grew up with my aunt and uncle. Pair of alcoholics who didn’t even pretend to care about us. The moment Lisa turned eighteen, she bolted, and I followed her a year later.”

My chest suddenly feels too small. “So that is why you don’t drink.” Even my voice is small.

His past looms over him like a black shadow.

“My uncle called my sister today. Wanted money. They keep doing that, leeching off us. Trapping us. All I want…” He sighs. “All I ever wanted was to feel free.”

There it is. How he feels about tonight. He doesn’t want anything from me. He wants to be free.

And I shouldn’t want anything either, not so soon after Justin.

Still, I can’t let go of him like that, so easily, like he doesn’t matter. Somewhere deep inside, I know he matters. It’s not every day you find someone you feel you belong with.

Listen to reason, or to my gut?

But reason failed me all these years. Trying to do the right thing, the reasonable thing got me nowhere. One night with Dante and it’s all clicking into place—what I want, what I need.

Maybe it’s time to throw reason out the window.

* * *

He’s standing at the kitchen window, staring out into the dawn, dressed in the same soft sweats he had on when he opened the door for me. His ass is spectacular, and his muscular back so beautiful, and I really shouldn’t be blushing at the thought, not after he made me come four times during the night.

And that makes me think of his cock, how big it is and how well he used it, and…

“Charlie.” His voice is low and a bit rough. It reminds me of how he groaned his pleasure every time he came.

God.

There’s a bottle of Whiskey on the counter and I gesture at it, trying to think of something, anything but his cock inside me. “I thought you didn’t drink?”

“I don’t.”

“But you’ve got booze in your house, and… and you’re a bartender,” I say. “Why?”

“I know, okay? I know. I dunno why I can’t step away from this. I shouldn’t be around booze, don’t wanna be.” He frowns. “I guess I’m tempted. Drawn to it. Seeing the bottles lined up every day, having shots behind the bar with the other bartenders and bar-backs …” His voice drops more. “This isn’t what I dreamed of doing as a kid.”

“What did you dream of doing?”

He’s so close, face bent, golden lashes shielding those expressive eyes. “I wanted to travel around the country, see places. Take my time to decide what to do with my life.”

“So do that.”

“I can’t just walk away from this, leave my job…”

“Why not?”

“I need the money for the rent and the bills.”

“So leave the apartment. Malcom could find another roommate for a while.”

He stares at me, and slowly, slowly his frown eases and his mouth curves into a smile. “I could. I want to see places, and think, and decide what to do with my life.

“So do it! Go on a road trip. I could go with you, travel around the country.”

“You would? You’d go with me? But you said it yourself, you barely know me.”

“But it’s my dream, too.” She nudges me with her elbow. “You’re right, you barely know me. I barely know you. But think about it. We could get to know each other as we drive. Hey, it beats watching movies at home on the couch, doesn’t it?”

I don’t know what I’m doing, or why I’m doing it. Why I’m proposing this crazy plan. I’m barely out of a relationship, and I’m asking the first hot guy I meet to go on a road trip with me, right after jumping his bones.

But I don’t take it back.

I don’t want to.

His smile widens, then trembles. He turns back to the window. He looks like he’s trying to control his expression, his feelings. His hand lands on the glass.

“Look,” he says. “It’s raining. The drought is over.”

I don’t ask what he means. I place my hand beside his and look at the raindrops rolling down the window pane.

The water comes down from the sky, and with it, a sense of peace.