“I know, Chuckie, and I said to let me handle it. I don’t need you worrying about me, not when I have everything under control. Now tell me about the plans. It’s only five weeks away, right?”
I nod while Charlee is a little more resigned, most likely upset from not being able to understand her grandma’s declining health. If I were Charlee, I’d demand to be at those doctors’ appointments so I could find out exactly what’s going on. But that’s me. Charlee seems to be a little more reserved when it comes to her grandma. Although she has a take-charge personality, especially with me in the office, she’s willing to submit to her grandma’s brush-off.
“I think we have a few things coming up in the next week, right, babe?” I ask, shaking her shoulder a little to help her get out of her funk.
“What? Oh yes.” She nods and tries to perk up. “We have quite a few appointments this week.”
“Oh? Like what?” Grandma asks with excitement, the awkward moment shifting.
“Cake testing, going to the venue, and food testing. We’re sending out invites soon and we need to pick flowers, and then attend dance lessons.”
“Dance lessons?” I ask, not remembering that on the list.
“It’s one lesson. A requirement from the old hag sitting in front of us,” Charlee says with a teasing lilt.
“Old hag?” Grandma brings her hand to her chest. “How dare you suggest I’m old. A hag, I will take, but old—”
“You’re eighty; you’re old.”
“But young at heart.” She winks at me.
We spend the rest of the night going over wedding décor and all of our ideas. I watch Charlee slowly come back to life while her Grandma oohs and aahs over the meticulous and well-thought-out plans. The woman beside me is an organizational genius. I knew that before now, especially from the emails I received from those who attended Charlee’s presentation earlier. And she’s all mine.
Later that night, when we’re back at my apartment, Charlee curls into my side, rests her head on my bare chest, and falls asleep. We’re both naked, but there’s nothing sexual about our embrace. It’s her clinging to me for support, seeking some relief in the stress consuming her. I realize, this is something I might get every night with her. Charlee curled into me, using me as her support system . . . her rock.
Chapter Twenty-Four
CHARLEE
“Mother . . . fucker,” Rath grunts out as he thrusts one last time inside me before collapsing on my back, the warm water from the shower cascading over us. “Jesus,” he mutters, kissing my neck. “You’re going to wring me dry, Charlee.”
Chuckling, I grip the back of his neck and move my head to the side so I can capture his mouth with mine. We make out for a few more seconds before I playfully push him away and hold my hands out to the side. “Now finish soaping me up.”
Penis still erect, chest still heaving, he says, “You can’t be serious. You want me to touch you again, after all of that?”
“Well, I need to get clean, and you have capable hands.”
“So do you.” He eyes me up and down.
I work my fingers in and out and say, “Yes, but they’re tired from yanking on your penis and playing with your balls for the last ten minutes. This girl is tired.”
His eyes grow heady, his muscles tense. He’s so predictable at this point.
Smiling coyly, I say “Thinking about how I put my finger up your—”
“Let’s not say it out loud, okay?” he huffs, cheeks turning red. “Let’s just know it happened and move on.”
“It didn’t just happen.” I contain my smile. “It made you squeal.”
“I did not fucking squeal.” He turns around, grabs the soap, and starts lathering me up.
“You’re so cute when you’re in denial. I can still feel your ass cheeks clenched around my hand as your penis grew at least another inch in my mouth.”
He pauses, hand soaping my stomach. “How long are you going to tease me, because I can make sure that never happens again?”
Laughing, I say, “You’d only be punishing yourself.”
He mumbles something under his breath and keeps rubbing the soap bar over my skin.
“What’s that? I didn’t quite hear you.”
Connecting his eyes with mine, he says, “If you ever beg me to stick my finger up your ass, I can tell you right now, it’s not going to happen.”
“Hey now. Don’t punish me because you’re embarrassed. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. That’s a really sensitive area for a man, as you could tell. And if done the right way, it can really give you some of the best pleasure you’ve ever experienced . . . as I’m sure you know.”
“Yeah, well I’d encourage you to remember what happens in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom.”
“Who am I going to tell?”
“Uh, your grandma.”
I tap my chin, thinking about it as he pulls me under the water and rinses me off. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Okay, I won’t say anything, as long as you let me do it again.”
He huffs in frustration. “Of course, I’m going to let you do it again. Christ, I blacked out.”
Chuckling, I toss my arms around his neck and lift myself up on his body, connecting our mouths for a deep, passionate kiss. His still-erect penis rubs against my core and even though I just had him, I need more, like I didn’t get quite enough, so I rub my pelvis up and down his length. He stills my hips and says, “You still want more, baby?”
I nod. “Yes, I do.”
He growls into my ear, flips the shower off, and throws on the heat lamp only to drop me on the counter of the bathroom. He props one of my legs up on the marble surface and then bends in front of me. With two fingers, he spreads me wide and rubs his tongue along my clit. God, I love how he carefully drags it up slowly only to return to the same torturous movement over and over again.
I thread my fingers through his hair, toss my head back, and marvel in the moment: the feel of him between me, how he so easily turns me on in seconds and has my orgasm building and building before I can even catch my breath.
“God, Rath, you’re . . . oh yes, you’re so good.” He removes his mouth, looks up at me with his devilish charm, and then sticks two fingers inside me, followed by one in the back. I nearly fall off the counter from the pressure that begins to build deep inside of me. “Fuck, oh fuck.” I thrust my hips toward him but he pauses my pursuit, presses his free hand down on the base of my stomach, and then brings his mouth back down to my clit where he flicks, rather than strokes.
The short rapid movements, combined with what he’s doing with his fingers, has my orgasm hitting me harder than I expected. All I can do is grip him and the edge of the counter as my body spasms against his mouth.
Rapidly my body convulses, my legs squeeze around him, as white-hot pleasure soars up my spine and shoots stars in the backs of my eyes.
Holy. Shit.
When he finally slows down and lets me recover, he pulls me into his embrace and kisses the side of my head while quietly saying, “Watching you come on my tongue has to be the best thing I’ve ever seen.”