It had been a hell of a month. He’d jacked off more in the last twenty-nine days than the rest of his life put together. He’d also done a lot of soul-searching…and some deep thinking.
They’d talked every evening. Sometimes, their chats were hot and heavy, and they’d had some amazing phone sex, as well as some naughty video conferences over Skype. But they’d also spent a lot of time talking about their lives. Despite missing her terribly, in many ways, he viewed their break as a good thing. They’d gotten to know each other as people. He learned about how much she’d loved horses ever since she was a young girl. She talked to him about her deepest wishes, how she felt she’d been treading water, not really living her life but not sure what she wanted to do.
She’d also sent him some of her photos via Snapchat, and they were good. Her confidence in her talent was rock bottom, but he sensed a good eye behind the photos. They were very different from his. Bright and colorful; sometimes she’d used filters to intensify the hues. But some of the ones she’d taken of her friends looked as if they’d fit into a fashion magazine. She seemed adept at capturing moments well.
He looked forward to the two of them going out together and taking pictures of the often melancholy landscape where he lived. It was beautiful but at times forbidding, and he liked to capture it in black-and-white. And he wanted to see how Charlie would photograph it. Would she see it the same way as he did? Maybe she’d prefer to take pictures in the height of summer, when the flowers were in bloom and the insects buzzed about. Whereas he preferred the quiet of winter and early spring and the decay of autumn. Although, since she’d come into his life, he’d found himself wanting to capture the more beautiful spots around where he lived rather than the striking but harsh places he often found himself drawn to. At this rate, he’d be photographing bright yellow daffodils and brilliant bluebells instead of his moody black-and-white moors and mountains.
One night, they’d been talking, and she’d played him a load of her favorite “cheesy tunes,” as she called them. Lots of ABBA, early Kylie, Take That, and Sister Sledge. His own tastes ran to heavy rock, so he had not returned the favor, but he would once she got here. Which…he glanced at his watch. Yep, any moment now.
His stomach was in damn knots. Brenin went and stood on the porch, door open, just in time to see a small car pull onto the gravel in front of the house. Aiyana clambered out, followed by Charlie.
His heart soared. He’d wanted to be the one to go and pick her up, but Aiyana said she ought to do it. Give them time for some so-called girl talk. Whatever. He’d agreed because he wanted to make Charlie happy and comfortable here, and having Aiyana as a friend would help.
She looked good. More than good. Her long red hair shone in the early spring sunlight, and her gorgeous curves were wrapped in snug-fitting dark jeans and a tight sweater, topped with a cardigan. He wanted to peel the clothes right off her and taste every single inch of her creamy skin. He needed her. To fuck her. Make love to her. To take her hard and fast, and gentle and slow.
It had been almost four long, painful weeks. Each day reinforced how much he wanted to be with Charlie. He’d called his father, after Kyle bought a new satellite phone, and asked his dad’s advice. His father surprised him by telling Bren to go for it.
His exact words rang in Bren’s mind now. “Bren, son, I’d do it all over again. Even with the same outcome. Do you think for one moment I’d choose to lose any of the time I spent with your mother?”
He’d never looked at it that way, and his father’s words helped rid him of his last vestiges of resistance. Now, looking at Charlie as she walked toward him, a smile playing about her gorgeous lips, any lingering doubts flew away, as insubstantial as gossamer threads. They’d make this work. He’d do anything in his power to ensure it.
She reached him, and he wrapped her in his arms, her warm softness a balm to his tired soul. He didn’t want to be alone any longer. He wanted to allow someone in, allow Charlie in.
She sighed against his sweater and mumbled, “I missed you so much.”
“Me too.” He let the guys grab her bags and put them to one side in the hallway, as he pulled her behind him and up the stairs.
“Are you here to stay for a while? To…you know, do the…dating thing we discussed?” Nerves had him all tongue-tied.
“Yes, I am.” They reached his bedroom, and he hesitated, knowing she’d said she’d be in the spare room.
“I still think I need my own space at first, for my things.” She jerked her head toward the spare room. “But I’m sure I’ll be spending a fair bit of time in here.”
Charlie was the one to push open the door and pull him through it with her.
“Now, why don’t you show me the filthy things you were doing to yourself for my benefit the other night, but in person this time?”
He didn’t hesitate. She seemed to have a real fetish for watching him jerk off; the satellite phone had proved useful in that respect. He wasn’t sure the inventors of Skype meant for it to be used in the way he and Charlie had, but he didn’t care.
She reached for him and pulled his mouth down to hers as he kicked the door shut behind him.
The moment their lips touched, his world exploded with scents and tastes that drove him wild.
“Oh.” She pulled away, and he went after her with a low grumble.
“Uh, uh, uh.” She batted his hands away and took her handbag from around her shoulder. “I bought you something.”
He frowned as she opened the bag. He’d gotten her a gift, too, but now that she’d arrived, he grew nervous about giving it to her. Thought it might seem a way to pressure her into staying, when he’d honestly not meant it in such a way.
She handed him a neat white box with a black ribbon wrapped around it. He opened it to see a small Leica digital camera. He blinked in shock at the thing of beauty in his hand.
“Wow.” He grinned at her.
“I know you have the large Canons, but I wanted to get you something smaller so you can carry it with you all the time and take pics whenever you want.”
He swallowed past the lump in his throat, but then something struck him, and he frowned. “Honey, this is amazing, and I’m truly touched, but it’s an expensive gift.”
Her flushed cheeks told him he’d hit a nerve, and he ran his tongue over a suddenly dry mouth. The awkward silence reminded him how little they still knew one another, despite their late-night chats. How he wanted to rectify that.
“I don’t want to sound ungrateful. It’s amazing…so thoughtful, but I don’t want you spending money you can’t afford.”
“Bren,” she sighed. “I didn’t exactly live a social whirl. I’m not into clothes, and my hobbies aren’t expensive. I wanted to get you something. Talking to you, getting to know you this past month, it’s been the highlight of my days.”
Her flush intensified, and she dropped her gaze.
“Hey.” He tipped her chin up. “Don’t go hiding from me. It’s been mine, too.”
He itched to give her the surprise he’d prepared for her, but he wanted to wait a while. And frankly, right now, he needed to touch her.
“I love it.” He pulled her in to murmur against her hair. He’d been dreaming about this hair of hers. The deep red contrasting so gorgeously with her pale skin.
She turned her face up to his, and he let himself look at her for a moment, enjoying having her right in front of him. Then he bent his head and took her mouth in a demanding kiss, and she opened right up and met him with her own hunger as fierce as his.
They moaned against one another, and he pressed into her, needing to meld their bodies as close together as possible. She pushed right back at him, and her arms went up around his neck as she clung to him.
He needed her clothes off, off, off. So he began to tug at the pale green cardigan she wore. It slipped easily from her shoulders, leaving her in a thin cream sweater. When he touched it, the wool was so soft, and he gave an approving humming sound in the back of his throat.
“It’s cashmere,” she said. “I’m not into fashion as such, but I love the feel of cashmere and silk against my skin.”
He smiled at that. His little sensualist. He’d buy her silk sheets. Silk clothes. Silk underwear. Hell, he’d drape the damn house in silk for her if it pleased her.
“Feels nice.” He wanted it off, though. He pulled up the hem as she lifted her arms, helping him remove it.
Her jeans were next, and she toed her boots off first as he pulled the zipper down. Then she was in only her underwear, standing before him, glorious and beautiful in her own skin and the deep red lace she wore.
“This is sexy.” He lifted the bra strap from her shoulder.
“Glad you like it. I got it with you in mind.” Again, her cheeks flushed, and he realized her skin was a sort of emotional weather vane. It pinked up when she was turned on or embarrassed, and it went deathly pale when she was shocked. She tended to get a tiny bright blush of color high up on her cheeks when angry.
But now, he wanted to see the deep flush that started at her neck that she wore when turned on. So he ran his hands down her back, reveling in touching the skin he’d dreamed about for weeks.
She shivered under his touch, and tiny goose bumps broke out along her arms. He kissed her neck, brushing her hair to one side to give him access, and her goose bumps intensified. When he pulled away, her nipples were hard and poking at the lace of her bra.
He wanted her so badly, but he needed to keep himself in check and locked down to a degree. She said she didn’t like it when he did so, but if he let his wild side out now, they’d end up mated before they knew it, and they needed some more time to cement their bond. Or at least, she did. He knew what he wanted now, but he also sensed the skittishness still lingering in Charlie.
She wanted him, wanted to be here, but she didn’t seem ready to totally give in to it all yet.
Her face went an even deeper shade of pink, and she bit her lip.
“What’s wrong, Charlie?”
She opened her mouth then closed it again.
“You can tell me anything.”
“I want to do the thing. You know the thing you did the other day, but in person.”
He frowned a moment and then remembered. “You want me to jerk off in front of you?”
She nodded. “But…erm…on me. Over me. If you want to?”
If he wanted to? The blood roared in his body at the idea of marking her in such a way. Covering her with his scent. Making her his.
He reached behind his head and tugged his T-shirt off. And then he popped the button on his cargo pants and pulled them down. His cock poked out of the top of his boxer briefs, he was so hard for her. And he already had fluid gathering at the tip.
“You like my cock that much?”
She nodded, her eyes hungry. “I love it.”
She went and lay on the bed, her hair fanned over the pillows, and he followed her.
“You want me like this?” He straddled her chest, knees on either side of her.
She nodded and flushed again, and he could sense this was hard for her to articulate, but she spoke. “I want you to come on me, all over my chest and…stuff.”
He bit back his smile at her shyness. Oh, he’d come all over her stuff, if she wanted.
She went to take her glasses off, but he stayed her hand. “Leave them on. They’ll look hot covered in my come, and I don’t want you blinded.”
She giggled then. “I bet you think I’m weird or dirty or something.”
“No. I think you’re fucking hot, and I love that you’re hot for me too.”
He pushed the waistband of his underwear down and took himself out, and her eyes widened.