Chapter 21

Ellison

I told Charlie to keep away from me at the office for a little while, but it turned out to be harder than I’d anticipated. I knew our tans would give us away if we were seen together much, but I missed seeing her around. There were moments where I’d look over at my secretary and see a new file sitting there untouched, and I’d know that Charlie had been by. I’d sit there, trying to imagine what she may have looked like or what she would have been wearing. Maybe she was in one of her pencil skirts and a tit-blasting top, or maybe she was in a nice dress that playfully hid those succulent hips from my view.

But, every single time I saw a new folder sitting untouched on my secretary’s desk, it would give me an idea. Even though I couldn’t risk seeing her this week in the office, that didn’t mean she had to go around wondering if I was thinking about her.

So, I started sending things to her home. I couldn’t address them to ‘Charlie,’ so I started addressing her gifts as ‘Charles,’ In my mind at the time, sending gifts to some dude I could pawn off as a sick employee would be easier to explain than ‘Charlie,’ especially since Charlie was making such an impression in the eyes of corporate already. I’d rather have to explain how some guy I knew was sick or something rather than try to babble my way through why someone named ‘Charlie’ was getting my gifts.

I knew I was being paranoid, but I had to be. What I had with her was too precious to risk over using her name.

I sent her flowers, chocolates and dinner. I sent her wine, letters and trinkets. But, my personal favorite was the dress I personally hung on her door Wednesday afternoon. I’d taken a long lunch and had been passing by a shop when I saw a dress that simply screamed Charlie. It was subdued, but sexy, steeped in this rich color of red that reminded me of that hair I loved to wrap my hand in when she was sucking my cock.

I felt myself growing in my pants just imagining her in it, and by the time I came to I was writing her a letter to accompany the dress before I rushed to hang it on her door.

Thursday night ended up being one of the most passionate evenings we had shared together so far, but it wasn’t my favorite. Sex with Charlie was always incredible. The way she wrapped her mouth around my cock and sucked the life from it was astounding, but the way she edged me that night had me begging for her to release me. Never in my life had a woman ever made me beg, but by the time her lips were done, I would’ve said just about anything in order to cum down that sweet throat of hers.

But, she didn’t have to worry. I could dish out exactly what she gave, and by the time I was done with her she was a sweating, snotty, crying mess.

A mess I scooped into my arms to hold while she trembled against my body.

Charlie plagued my thoughts. She was pragmatic and uncomplicated. Simple in a way that made her elegant. Every time I shared a story with her, she had one to shoot back, and it allowed me to slowly peel back the layers of the astute businesswoman I employed in order to see the cheeky woman underneath. I found out that she had a bit of a competitive streak while she talked with me about things she would do with her company, and she playfully began juxtaposing things I didn’t do with things she would.

She had some wonderful ideas, and I found myself looking forward to her competition in the future.

It was that story that actually led me to our favorite outing that week. Yes, Thursday night had been incredible, but Tuesday night we had gone bowling. There was a bowling alley 45 minutes across town that was tucked between two rundown buildings, and I knew no one from work would be caught dead there doing anything. The beer was horrible and I wasn’t going to even attempt to touch their food, but it was easy to coax Charlie’s competitive streak out from within that beautiful body of hers.

“You know, I’m a fabulous bowler,” she said.

“Oh, really? And just how fabulous are you?” I asked.

“Fabulous enough to know I’m gonna beat you,” she said, smirking.

“Well, what you don’t know is that I’ve been bowling since I was sixteen years old,” I said.

“Hah! Been bowling since I was twelve. It was actually how I bonded with my father,” she said.

“Do you feel confident enough to bet on our final scores?” I asked.

“Oh, most definitely. What are the stakes?” she asked.

“Loser gets to give the winner whatever sexual thing they desire. Tonight,” I said.

“Oh, you are so on. Be prepared to declare yourself the loser, L.”

Honestly, I wanted to lose. I’d been watching her bend over all night in those tight ass jeans she wore. Her shirt kept creeping up on her and her tits would bounce every time she pulled them up, but I found that I didn’t have to let her win in order for it to happen. Most of the shots she took were strikes, and by the time the final score was calculated she was a solid 50 points ahead of me.

“Suck on that, L,” she said.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding,” I said, chuckling.

“Now, it’s time to pay up. My muscles have been a bit achy, so I hope you’ve got some lotion or oil around somewhere,” she said.

“Massage?” I asked.

“Full body,” she said, grinning.

We found ourselves crossing town back to her place where I soon had her skin underneath my fingertips. I found some lotion she had stored away in her bathroom, and I started at her neck and slowly trickled down her body. I paid close attention to her beautiful, perky tits before I slid my hands down her stomach, and she whimpered when I skipped her beautiful pussy and massaged my way down her legs.

I made her flip over and I massaged her entire back, feeling her relax underneath my ministrations while her skin reddened at my touch. Her whispered moans made my cock hard, and I knew if I wanted to take her from behind right here in her bed she would be a willing partner.

But, I wanted this to be about her. I wanted to see her climax and feel her silky juices on my tongue.

When I was done with her she was wiggling and panting. There was a small wet spot where she had been grinding her hips into the bed, and I slowly helped her to flip back over before I pressed my tongue directly into her clit. I wasted no time teasing her because the two-hour massage did exactly that for her, and by the time I had worked up a steady rhythm her chest was flushing with desperation.

The way my name fell from her lips while her clit pulsed against my tongue is an experience that would forever be etched into my memory.

Being with Charlie was nothing short of existential. It was as if her entire presence ripped me from my world, tossing me into another one where nothing existed except the two of us. Never in my life had I ever experienced the type of euphoria I got from her when she smiled at me, and that’s probably why I found myself standing in front of a jewelry shop after our exotic evening of dancing and sweating. Both evenings held a side of her I adored—the bowling showed her charisma for competition, and the dancing showed her craving for romance—and I would make sure to indulge both of those sides of her frequently.

Honestly.

Openly.

Whenever I could.

I was on my way to a property spec meeting Thursday morning. There was nothing special about the morning except for fresh memories of the night before. I could still feel Charlie’s cheek pressed against my chest, and it was as if her scent still tickled my nose. My eyes drifted along the onyx necklaces and the emerald earrings, but eventually settled on the rings displayed in the window.

The twinkling diamond rings reminded me of the way the sweat had shone on her body the night before.

I found myself wanting to purchase one, and I wasn’t sure what that meant. Had things progressed that quickly between us? Was I actually considering getting her one of these? That was a massive fucking step in the world of relationships, especially since it had been less than a week since I’d presented the notion that I wanted to be in one with her.

Could I actually take it to that level without it ruining both of our professional reputations?

Engagement was public. It was a public affair with a visible sign that could not be denied. If I presented her with a diamond ring and promised her forever, it would only be a matter a time— and not very much time—before people began linking the two of us together. The idea of spending forever with Charlie put a smile on my cheeks, but the idea of going public with it sent a cold chill down my spine.

What I was doing to her was wrong. Giving her a man who was in love with her, yet unattainable in public, was wrong. This wasn’t a step we could take. There was no way we could ever take our relationship to this kind of level without it ruining one—or both—of our lives.

She deserved better than that.

And as I ripped myself from the jewelry display window, it confirmed in my head what I would eventually have to do.