CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It’s been a long time since I looked forward to anything as much as I’m looking forward to seeing Charlotte.
Surprisingly, not just for the sex.
I take a chance that she never picked up her car and park behind her apartment building. After a brisk walk through the alleyway, I’m at the front door to the brownstone. There’re two mail slots and buzzers to my left. Since neither are labeled, I’m not sure which one belongs to Charlotte. In my haze last night, I didn’t notice whether she used a key for this door. I turn the knob and find it unlocked. Shit, that bugs me. So, anyone can show up on her doorstep at any time?
Charlotte answers and her eyes widen.
“You need a lock for that front door. Any psycho could show up on your doorstep.”
She doesn’t laugh. “What are you doing here?”
I brush a kiss on her cheek. “Is that any way to greet the man who gave you multiple orgasms last night?”
Her cheeks turn pink and given the many ways I made her come not twenty-four hours ago, I’m confused by her reaction.
She opens the door wider, revealing the reason for her discomfort.
“I could’ve lived the rest of my life never knowing that,” Carter says without looking at me.
My gaze swings back to Charlotte and I mouth, “Sorry,” to her.
The corners of her mouth turn up and she gives me a quick kiss on the lips. “I didn’t expect you until later.”
“Close to hurling over here,” Carter mumbles.
Ignoring him for now, I take Charlotte’s hands in mine. I’m dying to touch her, to have her close. “I ducked out early,” I say against her ear. “Needed to see you.”
Yeah, I’m probably over-sharing this early in our whatever-we’re-doing, but, fuck it. I’ve never been one to play games. I’m told my honesty is both my best and most annoying quality.
She nuzzles her forehead against my chin briefly and whispers. “I’m glad.” Before inviting me inside.
Carter sweeps his insolent gaze over me. “You’re back, huh?”
“Yup.”
He grunts at me and doesn’t make any effort to stand or offer his hand or even move over. I take the hint and lean against the mantel. Charlotte already means enough to me that I don’t want to disrespect her by kicking her brother’s ass in her living room.
“Carter and I were going to go down the street for pizza,” Charlotte explains. She rolls her bottom lip, worrying it with her teeth. I doubt she meant the gesture to be sexy, but it is. Even with her brother a few feet away glaring at me like he’s hoping he can set me on fire with the power of his eyes.
“Care if I join you?” I ask, directing the question to Carter.
He lifts an eyebrow. “What do you care what I think?”
“I don’t want to intrude if it’s family time.”
He cocks his head, trying to determine if I’m mocking him I think. I keep my expression neutral. I meant what I said. It doesn’t take a genius to see how tight these two are and I respect that, even if he annoys me, and even if I want Charlotte all to myself right now.
“That’d be great, Marcel,” Charlotte answers.
Carter narrows his eyes at me. “You sure you two don’t want to be alone?”
Yeah, I want to be alone with Charlotte, but not to go out for pizza.
“Knock it off, Carter,” Charlotte grumbles, waving her hand at him. He pushes off the couch and marches out the front door.
“You want me to come back later?” I ask Charlotte.
“No. Are you sure you don’t mind?” She jerks her thumb in the direction her brother went.
“Not at all.”
She drops her gaze and bites her lower lip again. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“Hey.” I step closer and run my thumb over her cheek, inviting her to meet my eyes. “Thought about you all day.”
She meets my eyes, but I don’t find what I’m looking for. “You mean that?”
“Why do you think I busted my ass to get back here as soon as possible?”
Her lips part, but then she shakes her head, reaching up to press a quick kiss to my cheek. “Come on. I’m starving.”
Unsettled, I take her hand and let her lead me out the door.
Carter’s waiting for us on the sidewalk, staring down the street. “Angela’s or I Love NY?” he asks without looking at us.
“I’m fine with either one.”
The two pizza places are at opposite ends of the street, so I start walking in the direction Carter’s facing, figuring that’s where he wants to go.
It’s still early so the place is jammed. “I’ll grab a table,” Charlotte says. She nods at Carter. “He knows what I’ll eat.”
Carter glares at me after she leaves. “So, what are you, dating my sister now?”
I’m not sure how to answer since Charlotte and I haven’t even discussed it long enough to slap a label on it. “That’s between me and your sister.”
“Fabulous,” he mutters. “Just what she needs.”
He’s saved from a throat-punch by the clerk calling us up to the counter to place our order. His annoyance with me doesn’t get under my skin because I totally understand where it’s coming from. It actually makes me like him more. Well, like might be a little strong. It helps me respect him and not knock his teeth down his throat.
I bump him out of the way to pay for the meals and smother a laugh when Carter mumbles, “I guess it’s the least you could do.”
“You’re welcome.”
Charlotte tips her head up when I approach the table. The corners of her mouth turn up in a soft smile when I take the seat across from her.
“How was your day?” I ask Charlotte.
“Good.”
“You give your friend all the info she wanted?” I wiggle my eyebrows at the same time Carter looks up.
After a healthy eye-roll, he asks, “You met Mercy?”
“Was that her name?” Shit, I’m usually good with names. That’s how messed up Charlotte has me.
Charlotte nods. “Yes.”
“You forgot her hot friend’s name?” Carter chuckles and takes a sip of his beer. “Maybe you’re not a dick after all.”
“Carter,” Charlotte spits out through clenched teeth.
But Carter’s not deterred. He jerks his thumb in Charlotte’s direction. “Her ex tried to hook up with Mercy at Charlotte’s twenty-eighth birthday party.”
“Shut up,” Charlotte snaps.
“Mercy kneed him in the groin. It was epic.”
The counter girl drops our orders at our table, giving me a chance to come up with a response.
I lift my chin at Carter. “Surprised you didn’t kick his ass.”
“She wouldn’t let me. My sister’s a fight-my-own-battles type of woman. You’ll learn.” Under his breath, he adds, “If you stick around.”
Charlotte elbows him in the side.
“Ignore him.”
“Someone pulled that shit with my sister, I’d definitely kick his ass.”
“Even your club brother?” Charlotte challenges.
“Murphy wouldn’t do that.”
“Your sister’s dating one of your bros?” Carter asks.
“Engaged.” The easy way the word rolls out of my mouth isn’t as weird as I expected.
Carter finishes his dinner and stands.
“What’s wrong?” Charlotte asks.
“Nothing. I want to give you lovebirds some alone time.”
Charlotte shakes her head but accepts the kiss he plants on her cheek. This time he actually holds his hand out and I take it. “Thanks for dinner, Teller.”
“Anytime, kid.”
Charlotte watches him go and when the door jingles shut, she turns her attention back to me. “I’m sorry,” she says. “He’s—”
“Your brother. I get it.”
She lets out a breath like she’s relieved I can tolerate her brother. “Thanks.”
“You forget, I have a little sister.”
“How could I forget? We probably wouldn’t have met otherwise.”
Tilting my head to the side, I study her for a second. “I doubt that.”
An incredulous laugh works out of her throat. “You’re not suggesting fate would have brought us together some other way, are you?”
“Why not?”
“A little soft for a biker, no?”
“Sweetheart, I think you know by now, nothing on me is soft.” I stare at her until she blushes. “You seem to have a really narrow opinion of bikers.”
She opens her mouth. Hesitates for a second. “You’re right. Uncle Chuck doesn’t leave one with a favorable impression.” A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “I wouldn’t want you to judge me by some ambulance chaser.”
“There’s a difference. Lawyer is what you do. Biker is what I am.”
“Maybe.”
“Are you bothered that he called us lovebirds?”
She tilts her head in an adorable way that makes me want to lean over the table and kiss her.
“What are we, Marcel? Are we friends?”
Can I be friends with girls?
Hope doesn’t count, she’s more like a big sister. Family.
Trinity? Not going there.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. Mariella was the closest I’d had to a platonic friend. We shared a lot of dark secrets.
“I like to think we’re more than friends, Charlotte.”
“Fuck buddies?” she suggests.
I don’t like the sound of that. At all. “No.”
“Then what?”
I’ve been warned about this “talk” that girls inevitably want to have and I don’t find it as troubling as I always thought I would. “What do you want?”
Her gaze darts away. “I don’t know.”
“Where do you want to be?”
She meets my eyes and slides her hands over mine. “Right here with you.”
Now, that answer I like. “You ready to go somewhere else with me?”
“Sure.” She wads up her napkin and tosses it on the plate. While I clear the table and toss everything in the garbage can, she pulls out a small mirror and slicks on some gloss.
When I walk up behind her, she’s busy smiling at her reflection. I lean down and whisper against her ear. “Why bother when it’s going to come off in a few minutes anyway?”
Startled, she jumps and clicks her compact closed. “I was checking my teeth for spinach.” Her eyes narrow. “What’s coming off?”
I cup her cheek and run my thumb over her bottom lip, smearing the sticky gloss. “This.”
If anyone else had the nerve to smudge the gloss I’d so carefully applied, they’d be on the receiving end of a serious bitchfest.
Marcel? I’m too eager to find out how else he wants to remove it to be pissed. We’re in a crowded pizza parlor and I’m desperate to have this man do all sorts of dirty things to me.
It’s almost dark when we step out onto the sidewalk. This early in the summer, the street is jam-packed with locals enjoying the warm city night. Marcel slings his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close in a casual “she’s mine” pose that leaves me uncertain.
“Are you sure you want to be seen with me?”
Marcel’s slow head turn and wide-eyes clearly say, huh?
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question, miss ‘I can’t associate with outlaws?’” he says with a wry twist to his lips.
“I said I was sorry.”
“I’m not mad. Seems pretty damn funny now.”
“I’m thrilled you find me amusing. But seriously. What if one of your brothers sees you with Merlin’s niece?”
“How are they going to know who you are?”
“Oh. True.”
“If you don’t want to be seen in public with me, just say so.” The words are cocky, but there’s also a hard undertone that gives me pause. Did I hurt his feelings? After he so sweetly told me he thinks we’re more than friends or fuck-buddies.
“No.” I slide my arm under his cut around his waist and snuggle into his side, inhaling his summer-forest scent. “I was just worried about you,” I mumble.
“Let’s go back to your place.”
“You’re planning to stick around?”
He focuses his intense stare on me. “Good luck getting rid of me.”
“Causing trouble, Teller?” A deep voice asks from behind us.
Everything about Marcel tenses up. He turns but drops the hostile glare when he comes face to face with the Empire Police officer standing in front of us. “Still getting your kicks from hassling people, Deputy Hollister?”
The cop rolls his eyes. “It’s officer now. What are you up to?” he asks, holding out his hand.
After a second where he lets the officer’s hand hang in the air, he takes it. “How’s Bree?”
The cop’s gaze slides my way. “My fiancée is fine.”
Marcel’s arm tightens around my waist. “Charlotte, Deputy Hollister here was the finest sheriff in my hometown.”
I hold out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Officer.” Clearly Marcel enjoys calling him Deputy to be annoying and I’m not getting involved in that.
“Likewise.” His gaze darts between us for a few seconds. “Well, you two have a good night.”
“I didn’t know you were friends with the other side,” I joke after the officer’s out of earshot.
“Friends is probably stretching it. We have a healthy respect for each other.”
“You didn’t behave very respectfully.”
He touches his hand to his chest. “That hurts, Charlotte.”
“Bullshit.”
Before I know what he’s doing, he leans down and presses a kiss to my lips. “I love when you call me out.”
Being with Marcel is so simple. It shouldn’t be, but somehow it is.
“Come on, let’s go.”
He takes my hand and we hurry across the street. At the bottom of the stairs, he hesitates, his face screwed into a mask of pain.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he answers quickly.
He finally follows me up the stairs and into my apartment. “How badly were you hurt?” I’m a little ashamed it’s taken me this long to ask about his accident.
“Bad enough.” He cups my cheeks in both hands and presses me back against the door, staring into my eyes. “That’s the last thing I want to talk about with you.”
At first, I’m insulted and I think he senses that because he sighs and steps back. “Being with you, I’m able to forget about it for a little while.”
“Oh.”
His lips meet mine and I sink into the sweet sensation. I breathe him in and hook my fingers in his belt loops, drawing him closer, enjoying every inch of this powerful man against my body.
My heart beats a crazy rhythm as his hands slide down my back to cup my butt. Whatever he wants from me, I want to give him tonight.
Charlotte’s fingers thread through my hair, nails lightly grazing my scalp sending pleasurable tingles through my body. Just like last night, the heat of her touch ignites a fire inside me that I thought I’d lost.
She strokes her tongue against mine, kisses my jaw, my neck. Her hands slide under my shirt, pushing it up so she can press kisses to my chest.
My entire body vibrates with the need to be closer to her.
To be inside her.
I put her back against the door, pinning her, rocking my hips against her.
“Marcel, please.”
Pulling away, I take in her dazed expression. I run my thumb over her bottom lip, still red and wet from our kisses. “Told you that stuff was coming off.”
She laughs and gently pushes me backward. Sidestepping me, she darts down the hall. Pulling off her shirt and tossing it behind her. At her bedroom door, she stops and turns. “Come and get me, or I’ll start without you.”
Fuck if she doesn’t know exactly what to say to fire me up even more.
Our eyes lock and I move to the couch, shrugging out of my cut and setting it down. I pull my T-shirt over my head next and when I drop it on the end of the couch she’s gone.
It’s like this woman’s somehow tapped into the most primal part of me. I’m harder than fucking steel as I hunt her down.
Her place isn’t that big, so I don’t have to go far. I stop in her doorway and find her standing next to her bed in her bra and underwear.
“Gotcha.” I close the door and a jolt of satisfaction hits me when she trembles. “What if I wanted to undress you slowly?”
She hooks her thumbs under her bra straps, teasing them down her shoulders. “I left something for you.”
As soon as I’m close enough, she hooks her fingers in the waistband of my jeans and pulls me forward. Her hands toy with my belt. “Why is this so hard?”
“Because you’re half-naked in front of me.”
“Not your dick. The belt.”
Brushing her hands away, I undo the buckle. She steps back and bites her lower lip, watching my hands.
“You want something?”
“Your cock. I’m just not sure I can take it again.”
I snort and push her back against the bed. “You’ll take it.” She lands on her butt and stretches out, rolling to her side and propping her head on her hand.
“Make me.”
I glance up, meeting her eyes. “Careful, Charlotte.”
She chuckles and slips her hand down the front of her panties.
“Mine.”
She ignores the warning.
Done messing around, I shove my pants off the rest of the way, kicking them and my shoes to the side. I grab her hand, yanking it away from her pussy. “What’d I tell you? Mine.”
“Just getting ready to take that massive dick again.”
“I’ll get you ready.”
To prove my point, I yank her underwear down her legs. There’s no soft, gentle exploring tonight. I have my mouth on her pussy so fast, she shrieks.
“Quiet.”
“Shit. I can’t.” She moans and tosses her head from side to side. “That’s good.”
She’s still speaking actual words, so she’s not ready yet. I tongue and lick her slick lips and tease her clit until she’s writhing under me. She makes these sexy-as-fuck throaty moaning noises while arching her back off the mattress.
There’s nothing gentle about the way I suck and lap at her clit. It’s rough and desperate. I’m starving and she’s the only thing that can satisfy me.
I slip two fingers inside her, pushing in and out. She moans something close to my name and bucks her hips against me. A few seconds later she comes hard and loud.
“That’s it. Ride my fingers. Told you that was my pussy.”
She blinks and stares at me with a soft, unfocused gaze.
I reach over and grab a condom and throw myself on the bed next to her. “Up.”
She doesn’t bother arguing. She does brush my hands away and leans over to take my cock in her mouth.
“Fuck, Charlotte.”
Kneeling next to me on the bed, she takes me all the way to the back of her throat then slides back up, teasing her tongue over the head of my cock. I bury my hand in her hair, gripping tight, helping her, holding her in place while I thrust up into her hot wet mouth. She sputters but keeps taking it.
“Fuck. I need you on top of me.” I grunt as I pull her away from my dick. Her eyes sear me with heat and need.
I squeeze myself into the condom in record time, urging her up and over me.
“Come on. Get that tight pussy around my cock.”
We both groan as I slide down. “Marcel.”
He grips my hips and my hands curl around his forearms.
“That’s it, Charlotte. Take all of me.”
Still holding me with one hand, he reaches over the side of the bed. I’m enjoying myself too much to pay attention to what he’s fiddling with.
Turns out, it’s his belt. The simple wide strip of black leather with the heavy silver buckle I couldn’t figure out before. I’d been more interested in what was behind the belt to examine it more closely. Maybe I should have.
Another spike of adrenaline bursts through me.
He folds the belt in half and taps my leg. “Get up.”
“I just got on,” I protest.
He flashes his sexy half-smirk. “Ride me in reverse, cowgirl.”
My gaze strays to the belt, anticipating how he plans to use it.
Excited about the possibilities.
I ease up slowly, shivering when he groans. “Stand up. That’s it. Right over top of me.” He taps my ass with the belt. “Come on back down. Get that dick in you.”
I peer at him over my shoulder. “You have a filthy mouth.”
“You seem to enjoy it.” He cracks the belt against my ass and I inhale sharply.
“Come on,” he encourages, grabbing my hip with one hand and guiding me down over his cock. “There you go. Nice and slow.”
This position feels like trying to write with my left hand.
At first.
When I finally figure it out, my breath catches. It’s a unique sensation, hitting me in a different, but still pleasurable way.
“Careful, sweetheart. My dick doesn’t bend that way,” he cautions when I get a little carried away. His hands grip my hips, guiding me where he wants. “There you go.”
“Oh, shit!” I gasp and brace my hands on his shins, working myself up and down.
“Hands on your thighs,” he says, leaving no room for questions or quibbling.
Black leather loops around my middle, pulling tight until my arms are pinned to my side.
Holy shit.
I don’t even know how to process it other than my heart jackhammering and heat racing over my skin.
He makes a sexy sound somewhere between a growl and a grunt, and keeps the belt tight while he pistons up. Whether it’s the new angle or the gentle restraint, the pressure inside me builds fast.
So close.
Sweet relief is just out of my reach. I grind down on him harder. My hands grasp the belt, lifting it and placing it around my neck. For a second the belt tightens.
Marcel stops moving under me.
“Charlotte?”
The belt loosens and whistles through the air, hitting the floor with a clink and a thud.
Easily he bucks me off, throwing me to the mattress. He shoves my legs apart and slips back inside me before I even realize what happened. One of his large hands wraps around my throat, gently squeezing at the sides.
“Fuck.” My eyes close. “Yes.”
“This what you need, Charlotte?” he asks, his voice full of protectiveness and desire. “What you want?”
My answering groan makes him apply more pressure. “Look at me.”
My eyes pop open. He’s staring down with so much intensity. But also so much affection, my heart skips. “You want this?”
“Please.”
He lowers himself, kissing me softly. “Then, it’s my way. So I can watch your face. My hand. So I can feel you,” he whispers against my lips. “Understand?”
“Yes.”
I’m not sure what I’m agreeing to because I’ve never wanted a man’s hand around my neck before. My actions actually scare me.
But Marcel’s in control and I trust him to keep me safe while giving me pleasure.
He loosens his grip on my neck but keeps his hand there in a comforting way as if he knows I’m afraid and he wants to reassure me. He thrusts into me slowly, grinding his pelvis into my clit until my body’s boiling under the pressure of needing to come.
“I—”
“I got you.” He picks up his pace, pumping into me with short, precise strokes, while his fingers slowly tighten around my neck. I fixate on his eyes and slowly come undone. My vision blurring around the edges and intense pleasure pulsing through every part of me.
“Oh, God. Oh, Marcel.”
“Right there with you.” He grunts out each word and his thrusts become wild and frantic. He releases my neck and grabs my waist, holding me the way he needs me. I reach up, curling my hands over his shoulders to hang on tight.
He stills above me. Breathing hard. Eyes squeezed shut. Beautiful in his release.
After a few seconds, he kisses my cheek. “Jesus, woman. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.” He throws himself down on the bed next to me and hooks one arm under me to pull my body closer.
“I can’t catch my breath,” I mumble against his skin.
That pulls him out of his languid post-sex posture. He sits up, brushing his fingers over my neck. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. I’m breathless from orgasm aftershocks.”
He chuckles and rolls away. “I’ll be right back.”
I flop onto my back, staring at the ceiling. Not really thinking of anything except how good I feel. Content.
It’s just the sex, right?
“You look so serious, Sunshine.” Marcel strides into my room in nothing but boxer briefs.
“Who said you could put those on?” I tease.
He flashes a grin and tickles his fingers over the top of my foot.
“Are you leaving?” I ask.
“Fuck no.” He lands in the bed next to me. “Told you I’d be difficult to get rid of.”
I roll over to face him and he slips one arm behind his head.
“Did I wear you out, stud?”
“Long day. Didn’t get a lot of sleep. This hot girl I know kept me up all night.” His lips quirk as his eyes close.
I’m still wound up so I watch him drift off. My gaze travels over his body. His hard and sculpted arms and torso. There’s enough light for me to explore his ink and without him watching, I take my time. The design on his left arm starts as a black forest and mountain scene with pops of color here and there. Blue sky, green leaves, a black raven with a red rose. I’m more curious about the smaller pieces on the inside of his arm. It almost looks as if the larger design was skillfully drawn around these smaller ones instead of covering them up like some people do with old tattoos.
The first one I’m drawn to is a four-leaf clover with a small crown and a date in the center. “Blake” is written below. I assume the date is either when the two of them met or has something to do with the club. I recognize the dollar sign as the same one on his cut and I guess that has to do with his role as treasurer. There’s a red and black ladybug with a date that I’m pretty sure is his sister’s birthday. Then a red heart with a date that must be his niece’s birthday. Further up there’s a four-leaf clover with a ladybug nestled on one of the leaves. No magical interpretation skills needed to decipher that one. My gaze lands on a set of angel wings and the name Mariella. Another family member? An ex-girlfriend he still pines for?
If he were awake, would I have the courage to ask?
My gaze strays to his face.
Besides his physical beauty and crudeness, there’s something so good and sweet in him. At least I think so. I’m afraid to let my guard down and find out that I’m wrong.
I already like him way too much. And I’m terrified that being with this man could break me.
Our relationship could also slice through the final ties to my uncle and mother. I have no doubt that if my uncle disowns me, my mother will side with him.
I can’t say I’d be sad about it. But I’m too old to do the dating-the-wrong-guy-to-piss-off-my-parents thing. So being with him has to be about what I want. What I need.
And I want him.
Deep down, part of me thinks I need him.
And maybe he needs me too.