Charlotte

I have put Kimberly to bed the same way for years, but it felt different. If I had remembered how curious she could be, I would have done a better job of hiding the photos I didn’t want to put in that box. Lowell looks the same as he did before, mostly, and since he is the only man I have ever brought around, it told her young mind as much as she needed to know, and Lowell not saying anything otherwise was enough too.

It removes the worry I had of trying to tell her the truth but not of adjusting her to this new life or one different than before. I don’t know everything about Lowell. I didn’t then, and I certainly don’t now, so it’s easy to wish he will stick around and trust he will but not to put all my belief in it.

“Here. It’s decaf.” I return to the living room where I left Lowell, who has gotten comfortable with his shoes and socks off and his legs propped on the ottoman.

“Thanks.”

I sit next to him, sipping the hot liquid. Under the dim lights, his hair looks darker, but his eyes are still bright. I see more of them in Kimberly now after seeing them for the first time in such a long time.

“Oh shit, what kind of coffee is this?” Lowell laughs once and sets the cup down on the tray table.

I giggle once. “I don’t know, regular coffee.” I set mine down too. I hadn’t had the taste for it anyway.

“That’s why.” He chuckles.

I face him on the couch and give him a funny look. “Please tell me you don’t live that grandiose.”

He holds a straight face before smiling. “No, I don’t. But I let myself indulge sometimes. I hope you do, too.” He nods at our surroundings, my house both on the inside and outside looks almost as ‘extra’ as I planned. Catherine was with me when I bought it, hackled the asking price way down, and put in some of my own designs since it was new construction. And all the furniture and decorations came from the same custom furniture shop.

“Sometimes. Mostly on Kimberly, though, when she earns it.”

He laughs. “How could she not? She seems like a good kid.”

I smile. “She is.” I never have to ask her something twice, and when she isn’t getting in trouble at school, she makes good grades for her age. She’s also good at the small stuff like keeping her room tidy and not leaving her toys laying around. Even in the beginning, I was lucky she wasn’t a fussy baby either—she rarely cried—mostly sleeping and eating. She’s the same way now.

“Well, you did well for yourself. I’m happy about that.” His eyes soften, and I lean closer to him on my own accord before thinking.

“Did you ever… think about me? I mean, after.”

“I did. Sometimes.” He looks right at me, and I only try to look away. His gaze does the same thing now that it did years ago even when he isn’t trying to be charming. I succumb to the charms living in his eyes.

“Did you?” he asks.

I breathe a small laugh. “Yeah, probably more than you did because I looked at Kimberly every day. And my parents lived to remind me of what a horrible mistake I made until she was born, and then they saw her.” I sigh, my parents’ anger is still fresh in my mind at times.

They were barely old-fashioned, but they didn’t want all their friends knowing their daughter got knocked up in college by some football player because that’s all they got out of it. Catherine was the only one who knew how much it hurt and was there for me during all the bad times I had. In the beginning, when I considered not keeping her after she was born, she was there for me and convinced me I was capable of taking care of her and loving her. But it was after the first time I felt her kick I knew I couldn’t give her up, ever. It almost made me sick to know I had that thought at one point. But everything is different now. They come around once a year for Christmas and send gifts for her birthday. Other than that, I don’t hear from them too often.

“I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t realize how much me leaving affected you.”

“It’s not like you knew.” I smile sadly. When he takes my hand, the heat of his palm sears mine, the size of his hand so much bigger.

“I know now. And I’m not going anywhere for Kimberly and—” he cuts off, his lips still parted with his words as they still live on the tip of his tongue.

“And?” I whisper, having leaned closer into the space.

He doesn’t answer me, but instead, he kisses me with more than his words. Explaining more than I think his words could—that he might stick around for us.

His lips part mine easily, his tongue swiping against mine, and our bodies meeting when he pulls me into his lap. I straddle his waist, and his hands travel up the sides of my legs, squeezing every perimeter of my flesh until he meets my face, cupping my cheeks to hold me in place as his kiss binds himself to me once again. I could never tell him back then, but he was my first kiss, my first everything. I gave myself up so easily, and I never knew why until now. What I felt back then wasn’t me being young and him being such a superstar, it was just real—the only thing I ever felt for another person.

“Lowell.” I pull away when his hands reach under my dress. As good as it feels to have him close to my aching core, I remind him, “We can’t. Kimberly could skip in here at any minute.” I smile to myself since I know how she will get up and wander around even after I put her to bed.

“So, we’ll go to your room then. I’ve got to have you, Char,” he whispers, his eyes blazing when I look at them again. I bite down on my swollen bottom lip contemplating how much I want him again too and how good it feels to have him call me Char the same way he did before. If anything, we’ll be behind closed doors and a knock away. A simple nod from me is all it takes for him to lift me up and off in the direction I point him to.

Lowell stops only to drop me on my four-poster bed and lock the door before coming back over to me, his eyes blazing with desire. I feel it right in my core, down through to my aching sex and tingles under my skin. He strips off his jacket and shirt, his jeans following suit. I take a long, hard look at the defined planes of his body, his shoulders built and abs narrow, and his Adonis belt pointing down to his cock jutting the fabric of his boxers.

Sitting up on the bed, my chest heaves as I look him over continuously until he climbs over me and graces me with another kiss. It breaks when he tugs my dress over my head, his eyes burning holes in the black fabric of my bra and panties before his hands move to pull them away.

He kisses down my body reaching the band of my panties before he strips them away. His breath fans over my trimmed hair and pulsing clit before he kisses me fully, his warm mouth over my soaking flesh, his tongue slipping inside the outline of my opening. My back arches, hips drawing closer to him as my fingers lace in his hair. I trap him to me and moan under my breath, careful of how loud I know I probably could be.

His lips and tongue know every part of me, quickly drawing me to the sweet precipice as I await my body’s reaction. A feeling I can barely emulate on my own, one I only felt with him, the way my skin stretches and breasts swell so much it hurts. I feel the light inside me blind us both as I come, trembling underneath him.

As I catch my breath, I barely register him kissing his way back up my body and then kissing me where I can taste myself on his tongue. His hands encase both my breasts over my bra, and I remember he was always quite fond of them too. He tugs the fabric away like it’s nothing, snapping the back of it to make me gasp, and I watch his eyes darken as he takes in my breasts which practically throb under his touch. His lips press between them as his fingers toy with my nipples. I writhe under him, my sex still throbbing from the aftermath and what it wants more of.

I rake my nails down his arms and back at the intense sensations, his mouth trades kisses over each of my breasts and around them, moisture hitting the air and making more goosebumps.

“Lowell,” I groan. My hands can’t hold themselves steady as I try to get his boxers off. But I manage.

My hand circles around him, his girth seeming wider and longer than I remember. The moisture on the tip of his cock hits my inner thigh, and I tremble for more. I pump him in my hand, squeezing to make him groan against my ear. His lips find mine, our kiss searing between us. I struggle to catch my breath but would rather keep kissing him anyway.

When he guides himself between my legs, my hands press to the hard planes of his chest, “I don’t have condoms.”

“I’m not surprised.” He grins, then kisses me again. “We can be old-fashioned.”

“A player like you?” I giggle at my joke.

His eyes soften as he kisses me again, the turn of his lips slower, his tongue pressing softer. It’s not even that I care much for it. After Kimberly, I got an implant because in my experience, condoms were useless—Lowell and I did use them. But he tells me with his kiss to trust him, with his hands sliding against the flesh of my thighs wrapped around his waist.

Leaning back, he breaks the kiss and rocks his hips, his cock sliding inside of me with slight resistance. My body is mostly the same after having Kimberly, but I never tried it out or anything. From how Lowell reacts, it seems to be most of the same. His breath catches as his lips press to my neck, and he kisses under my ear as he glides fully inside of me.

“God, Char… you feel so fucking good.” He kisses me hard. “So right.” I kiss him back nodding when he releases me.

He leans back to tug my thighs over his shoulders, and I moan at the feeling of him so deep inside me when he starts to move. I watch him, on top of me, a glorious picture of a beautiful man having me the same way once again.

My mind threatens to explode at all the sensations thrumming through my body. He thrusts into me over and over, one slow pace with pointed, hard claims of his cock to brand me once again. His hands roam every inch of my body to do the same—my breasts especially, pulsing under the weight of his caresses. My hands do the same thing down the front of his body, his muscles so hard and warm my palms feel like they are burned to him forever.

I tug him back closer to me when I feel my body coiling up in pleasure again, to kiss him as I unravel around him once again.

He whispers in my ear, his breath falling short more and more at every second until he halts, pulling back to latch his lips to mine as he comes inside me, burning me with each spurt and emptying all of himself inside me.

“Char…” He breathes against me saying nothing else.

When he stops pulsing inside of me, he slips out and lays next to me, our bodies tangled together. It feels like it was better than ever, or it could have been so long that I’m crazy. But as he holds me now, I know I’m not crazy.

I know how I feel about him is right.

Usually, I have nice, relaxing Sundays, but that all changed after a call from my salon manager. I already woke up a little sad forgetting that Lowell had to slip away last night for the game. I planned to watch it with Kimberly before I had to go to the salon, so I left her with Catherine at our house to watch the game.

“It doesn’t make sense. Money is never missing.”

“So, someone stole it?” It hurts to say, but it’s the only logical explanation. After she explained everything and told me about the loss on the books, I knew it was the only logical explanation.

“I think so, boss. I’m sorry.”

I smile at her. “Unless it’s you, you don’t have to be sorry.” I roll the sudden tension from my shoulders.

All I can do is make sure this is right and figure out how the hell I’ll handle it. A handful of people handle the books when I am not here, so I have to start with them—discreetly—so the employees don’t get a sense of it.

“I didn’t, I swear. But I can handle the rest, don’t worry.”

I nod and thank her. Thinking this over in the comfort of my home is what I need.

“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

I leave, waving goodbye to everyone. We are open until two on Sundays and only for appointments. I reach my car and am ready to go before I see someone standing at the other end of the parking space—a stubby man, greasy looking, a little weaselly. He looks like a tax collector with a trust fund.

“Can I help you?” I clench my purse tightly even though his suit looks to cost more than it.

“Donnie.” He holds out his hand, and I barely shake it.

“Donnie?” I recognize the name.

“Lowell Blake’s agent. You know him?” he says, but like he already knows the answer.

“I… yes.” I furrow my brows. He comes closer, and I move back the same time so he will stop. He seems shady like a man with secrets or who doesn’t want people to know what he is thinking.

“It would do better for you both if you stayed away from him. You and your kid.”

I start to speak, immediately fuming at the mention of my daughter’s name from this stranger, but I don’t get to voice my ire before he cuts me off.

“Kimberly, is her name? I know a lot of people at Stratford who owe me a lot of favors, and I know who developed this entire block your business sits on. How many violations do you think I could come up with to shut this place down?”

My mouth hangs open, eyes wide as I take in his words. I snap my mouth shut and glare at him, but I can’t find the right words to respond.

“Good. I think I made my point. Have a good day.” He waltzes away, disappearing behind a row of cars. I stand there long enough to watch him drive by in a flashy car.

With my heart in my throat, I race home and all but wish I never woke up this morning.