Chapter 20

Houston

We’d been together in a motel room. We’d been together in her little room at her aunt’s place. And now, we were under the trees, out in the open. Anyone could come down here at a moment’s notice, disturb the quiet and the occasional bubble popping in the spring.

They could find me with my arms wrapped around her, and her head on my shoulder.

I still couldn’t resist.

Just one kiss. Just one taste of this angel.

So fucking pure and mine.

She hasn’t been with anyone else since I left. I refuse to believe it.

“Houston,” she whispered.

“How much have you missed me?” I asked. “How many times have you thought about me naked?”

“It was just one week,” she replied and opened her eyes, looked over at me. She couldn’t hide the lie. “One week, that’s all. Why would I have thought about you? Missed you? You weren’t coming back.”

“But I am back. I’m right here,” I said. “You thought about me.” No way she didn’t. I hadn’t lost my touch.

“How would you know?” Charlie asked and stiffened up a little.

I ran a finger along her cheekbone and down to her lips. “Because I thought of you. Every damn day. Every night, I thought about you beneath me. The way you tasted and felt, tightening around me. Coming for me.”

She let out a tiny whimper, and her eyelashes fluttered.

“Charlie, you drove me crazy for a week, and then you fucked my mind for weeks afterward. You’re coming with me,” I said.

“W-what? Coming where?”

“The question of the hour.” I laughed softly and leaned against the tree. The bark scraped against my arm, but I didn’t give a single fuck. “Look at me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“Because if I look at you, I’ll cave,” she said. “I’ll sleep with you again. And I can’t sleep with you again.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re leaving as soon as you can. You want out.”

I opened my mouth and snapped it shut again, a frown wrinkling my brow. She was right, of course. I’d be out as soon as I got the opportunity. The career was everything.

She could come with you. She could move, too. Find a better school to teach at. Fuck it, you could pay for her studies. I’d sat on my nest egg for long enough.

What the fuck was I thinking? I’d known her for one week, and now, a day or two more. Christ, we’d fucked and talked, that was it.

It was impossible to fall for someone instantly. That was movie bullshit. It didn’t happen in my life or anyone else’s.

Charlie shifted away from me, just an inch, and I let her go. “What does it matter if I’m leaving or not?” I asked. “We should be able to enjoy ourselves, right? It could be more than a week this time.”

She got up and dusted off the backs of her legs. I took the opportunity to check out her ass.

“It matters to me,” she said. “You stay for months and we have a casual relationship and then you leave again. It’s different for me.”

I rose, too, and stood right behind her, not touching, but close.

“You were my first.”

And only.

“And my only,” she finished. “It’s—well, you’ve got to know what that’s like. Didn’t you have a first?” Charlie spun toward me and crashed into my chest.

I caught her before she fell. Clumsy again, adorable. This woman could do no wrong.

She was nothing like the others I’d met and dated—casual wasn’t even the word for that—in the past. She didn’t want something from me. She didn’t keep secrets and pop them out later. I could trust her.

And that made this dangerous territory.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her close. “I’m not like other people. First for me wasn’t what it was for you. It was something I got out of the way.”

“How romantic.”

“No, it’s not,” I said. “I’ve never been romantic. Not until now.”

She swayed in my arms, then, and gripped her forehead. “I need to lie down. This is too much.”

“Come on.” I slipped one arm free, then walked her over to the brown paper bag.

“What are you doing?”

“We can’t leave this trash here,” I said.

We gathered it up, then walked toward the trail together, away from our spot. Our spot. Christ, what if I did want her to come with me? What if that wasn’t a crazy thought and all the love at first sight crap was the real deal?

Snap out of it, jackass.

We dumped the bag into a trash can at the peak of the trail, then walked out of the park and onto the sidewalk in Summit Springs.

This was our weird-ass crossroads.

“Well,” she said and stuck out her dainty, pale hand. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“Handshake?” I chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

I tapped her arm to one side, then looped one arm around her waist and tugged her to my chest. I pressed my lips against hers and she moaned, instantly.

I took advantage of that, slipped my tongue into her mouth and kissed her hard. I took what I wanted and gave what she needed. That was the fucking deal.

She melted into me, and I kept her upright.

Finally, I stopped the kiss and planted a little one on the tip of her nose. “It doesn’t have to be one week this time,” I said. “It could be more than that.”

“Are you—Houston?”

“Yes, I am Houston. That’s the point of this. I’m me and you’re you, and we’re going to have a good time and see where it goes. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

She giggled, then bit her bottom lip. A-fucking-dorable. No wonder I was addicted to this chick.

“I mean, are you serious, Houston? Are you serious?” Charlie’s stare intensified.

This was her moment of truth, apparently. She needed this confession from me.

I’d give her what I could.

“Yeah, I want to know more about you. Let’s find out where this goes.” This was a huge step for me. “But listen, I’m not making any promises. I’m not good with, uh, this.”

“What?”

“Emotional crap. Romance and shit.”

“Me neither,” she said. “I’ve never done it before.”

“You don’t say.” I smirked, then kissed her nose again. It was cute, smooth and made for my lips. “Come on, let’s go back to my motel. We can take a walk.”

She swallowed, nodded. “OK,” she said, and tension leaked from her shoulders. Why was she this worked up? Was it the school stuff? That creeper?

I’d wipe that stress from her.

I took her hand and led her down the street. The walk wasn’t too long, since the park was closer to the edge of Summit Springs, and the motel was, too. I’d settled into the same place, but not the same room, not that it made a damn difference.

I’d stayed in enough motel rooms in my time—they were all the same.

I fished my keys out of the pocket of my jeans, then unlocked and held the door for her, headed in after her and closed up again.

Charlie circled and took in the room, the double bed with its clean white sheets, and the small, flat screen TV attached to the navy-blue wallpaper. She tapped her heels on the wooden flooring, then walked to the desk and touched it.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She jumped, colored, and faced me. “The last time I was in your room, I didn’t see anything. I want to remember it all.”

“Charlie, you’ve got to quit saying shit like that. It makes me want to devour you whole. Just eat you from head to toe.”

“Is this the part where you tell me you’re a serial killer? Like Dexter?” Her lips tugged upward at the corners.

“He was a forensic technician,” I replied.

She laughed full on, an effusive noise that filled all the spaces. Even ones I didn’t want to admit I had. Ones that were deeper inside. “Of course, you’ll correct me on that. Can you ever be wrong?”

“Eh, only if there’s categorical proof. Or hard evidence.” I cocked my head to one side, mentally tracing the curves of her face and the line of that slender neck down the shoulder. The collar bones. The breasts. Fuck me, what a woman. “Besides, I’m much worse than him. I’m not a killer in the normal sense. I’ll devour you, Charlie, that’s not a lie.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek.

“I’m going to consume you heart and mind and soul. All of it. You’re already mine. You know that.”

“Am I?” she challenged. It was weak, though, and she placed her palm on the desk behind her, braced for what would come.

“You already know that,” I said and strode across the space between us. I pressed my forehead against hers, lowered my voice. “You were mine the minute you walked into the doctor’s office. The minute you spoke to me for the first time.”

Her bottom lip trembled.

“I know how you’re feeling.” I whispered, still just with my forehead touching hers, my groin pressed against hers.

“How?”

“Because I feel it, too.”

She let out a tiny sigh.

I caught it in my mouth, breathed it in, and tasted her flavor again. Another kiss, melting, breaking, heart-rending. My hand rested beneath her chin, smoothed her skin, crept around to the back of her neck and held her at its nape.

Charlie tilted back to accept more of the kiss. Her tongue massaged mine. She was as enthusiastic or more, as needy for this feeling we’d woken within each other.

I broke away first.

“More,” she whimpered and tugged on the belt loops of my jeans. “Houston, please.”

“Patience,” I said.

She shook her head.

I unbuttoned her jeans, then dragged them down, revealed plain cotton panties underneath. God, I’d missed these fucking panties. They were so her. No fancy lace, just sweet cotton panties.

I stripped them off, too, bent and lifted each of her feet to slip them free. I tossed them aside and rose again, peppering kisses on her calves, her knees, her thighs. I hovered by her sweet, shaven mound, and licked my lips.

Not yet.

The longer we drew this out, the better.

I grasped the hem of her blouse and lifted it as I stood, tore it up and over her head, then threw that to one side, too. Her bra, plain purple cups and a clasp in the front, enticed me as much as her panties had.

“Fuck, look at you,” I said.

“What?” Charlie looked down at her body. “Is something wrong?”

“Wrong? Fuck no,” I replied, then took her palm and pressed it to the raging erection that strained against the front of my jeans. “Does it feel like anything’s wrong?”

“Oh my god,” she whispered.

“That’s right.” I unclipped the clasp of her bra, and it popped open.

Her breasts—perky, pink nipples—begged for my tongue, for a tease. I obliged, splayed my fingers on her back, lowered my head and sucked one of them into my mouth, teased the nub between my teeth.

“Oh god, oh fuck.” She writhed against me. “Don’t stop doing that. Don’t stop.”

I cupped her breast in one hand and massaged. She was a little more than a handful, so full and delicious. I suckled on her, teased her, and she cried out, leaned back, almost fell over again.

“I’m going to come,” she said.

My eyebrows jounced upward. From this? Nipple play? Hot damn, I’m good at this shit.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she whined and gripped her other breast, tweaked that nipple. “I’m coming.”