“Oh, you wish.” Yeah, I won’t be groping him. There’s one important thing I know about myself, and it’s I don’t move when I sleep. I’m not a traveler like some people. If I lie down in one position, I wake up in that position. If he wants to be accidentally groped, he’s going to have to look elsewhere.
“Good night, Charlee.”
“Night, boss man bridegroom.”
Chapter Nineteen
RATH
Mmm . . . that feels good.
Feels really good.
I shift, but my leg is clamped against something. What is that?
I peek an eye open but now that it’s Fall, it’s darker for longer so I can’t see a damn thing.
Feels like a cat or something rubbing against my leg. Is it weird that I like it? And where did my pillow go?
I move my arm, trying to find it and that’s when I touch the edge of the bed, my head parallel to it. Am I sleeping sideways? I try to move my leg again, but this time it’s firmly clamped down in place at my calf as something’s rubbing against it.
What is that?
“Ohhhhhhh . . . yeaahhhhh.”
My head lifts straight up from the sound of another voice in my bed . . . and that’s when I remember Charlee stayed here last night.
Charlee . . . is that Charlee rubbing against my leg?
Twisting to look over my shoulder, I squint to try to detect what the hell is happening, but I can’t see anything thanks to the blackout curtains I closed before we went to bed. Something is happening though, something weird.
Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, not easy with my leg still stuck in a viselike grip, I turn on the flashlight and spotlight it on Charlee’s side just in time to see her riding my calf like her own personal dildo, her head thrown back in the throes of passion, and her hands rubbing over her covered breasts.
Damn, girl.
“So thick,” she says in her sleep. “Oh yeah, big boy.”
What the actual fuck?
I can’t help it, I snort out loud, which shines the light directly on her face.
Her hands fly up to her eyes and her body stiffens.
“What in the name of Jesus is going on? Mom, turn off the light,” she yells, eyes still closed.
Mom. I snort again.
“I’m not kidding. I was about to get off with David Hasselhoff.”
And that’s all it takes. I lose it, straight-up cackle as she stills. Her legs release mine and she scrambles to the edge of the bed.
“Who’s that? Who goes there? I know how to bite. Stay away.” One arm is covering her eyes, the other is swatting around like a nunchuk. “I’m not kidding, make yourself known.”
“Charlee,” I say on a laugh, now able to twist around and sit up. “It’s Rath.”
She turns. Ramrod straight. I’m honestly nervous that someone secretly pushed a bar up her ass. She blinks a few times and I lower the light so it’s not directly shining on her.
“Rath.” She smiles awkwardly and fiddles with her hair. “Oh hi, there you are. Heh, kind of forgot you were on the other side of this bed.” She twists a strand of hair on her finger. “How was, did you sleep . . . was that your leg I was humping?”
“Yup.”
She presses her hands to her forehead. “Okay, yup, that’s what I was afraid of.” Keeping her eyes covered, she gives me a short wave. “Thanks for, uh, putting your leg on loan. You know how people say lend me a hand, well, I guess thanks for lending me a leg. Must have been weird huh, me humping it? Yeah, that’s really weird. Never thought I would actually hump my boss’s leg, but I guess never say never, right?” She’s rambling, still not making eye contact. “I didn’t get off on your calf if that’s what you were wondering. I mean, I was close, I felt the twinges . . . I mean, no, I wasn’t close. I don’t get horny or anything off legs it was—” She sighs heavily and looks up at me. “Okay, fine. I’m very horny in the morning. Okay, something I’m sure you didn’t need to know but now you know.”
Definitely not something I needed to know, because morning sex is one of my favorite things in the world. Waking up and getting fucked, before you even get out of bed? There’s nothing like it.
“Do you get horny in the morning?” she asks, and I know it’s because she feels really uncomfortable and probably wants to die from humiliation.
So, because I’m a good guy, I say, “I usually wake up with a boner, so yeah, I guess so.”
Possibly surprised from my candidness, she smiles shyly and says, “Well, I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
“That doesn’t mean I hump people’s calves envisioning them as David Hasselhoff.”
“Oh God, I said that out loud?”
“You also called me mom, which is slightly terrifying given you’re wearing my ring on your finger.”
She glances down at her hand and then back up at me. “God, you’re right. I’m wearing your ring. Did that really happen yesterday?”
“It did.” Okay, here’s what’s weird. For all intents and purposes, this should be completely awkward. I cannot imagine any other woman could calmly address her boss, while in his bedroom, having just humped his leg . . . like Charlee is doing here. And I can’t help but admire her for that. She’s hilarious, refreshing, frank, and . . . of course, conversation aside . . . sexy as hell. Never thought yesterday morning that my Tuesday morning would look like this. At least things are . . . comfortable.
She sighs and then tilts her head. “Do you have a boner this morning?” Or not comfortable.
“I mean.” I shrug. “It’s not flaccid.”
“Really?” She tries to look around my shoulder but I block her with the blanket.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She pauses and thinks about it and then laughs. “Huh, I guess I don’t know. Is it weird to look for your boner as your assistant?”
“I think so.”
“Yeah.” She purses her lips to the sky. “I think so too.” Then out of nowhere, she grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, revealing a tiny tank top that’s suctioned to her body. What I can see is faint because the light is barely filtering in, but it’s enough to turn my flaccid penis into a full-on hard-on.
Medium-sized breasts, I would say a B-cup, with hard nipples that look like they want to escape past the thin fabric of her tank. God, they’re perfect, exactly what I was afraid of. Not only is her personality and smile grabbing me by the balls, but so are her tits.
“God, you’re like a furnace in this bed. I feel overheated.” She reaches under the covers and removes her pants as well, which only means one thing: Charlee is in my bed, in her underwear.
Jesus Christ.
As if she has no idea what she’s doing to me, she stretches her arms above her head, revealing a small patch of skin right above her waistline. “What time is it? It’s so dark in here.”
I glance at my phone and nearly hop out of bed but due to the boner situation, I stay put. “Holy shit, it’s eight.”
“What?” She scrambles out of bed and starts running around the room. “We’re going to be late.”