by L. B. Dunbar
“What’s this?” Charlie’s sharp voice forces my eyes to close, and then he’s next to me, filling in the space beside me in the booth. “Nessa, sweetheart.”
His arm comes around my back, and he tugs me into his chest, pressing a kiss to my temple. How did he know I was here?
“She just needed a few minutes,” Roxanne explains.
“I have her,” he mumbles into my hair. My eyes remain closed behind my dark glasses. “The luncheon is almost over, but some people are headed to the coach house.”
Oh, God. Why can’t they leave us alone? I know they mean well, but the hovering makes my skin itch.
“Take my truck. Get her out of here.” Billy’s stern voice suggests he’s returned to the table as well. Maybe he called Charlie. “Go out the back.”
Charlie gently tugs me from the booth seat, never letting me slip from his arm.
“Just for a little bit,” I whisper as I curl into him when we stand.
“For as long as you need,” he assures me and leads me out a back exit and into the alley behind the Pub.
+ + +
To my surprise, Charlie takes me to his house. Billy’s pickup is our only disguise as Charlie pulls into the garage of his home on the same property as my parents. There is a line of cars down the outer drive leading to the coach house. For a few seconds, I feel guilty I’m not there to hold up my mother, but Zander can handle it a little longer. He hasn’t seen my mother in years, the same as me. I only wish it was under better circumstances.
With an arm still around my shoulders when we enter his house, Charlie immediately turns me for a staircase inside the back door, leading to the second floor.
“Where are Lucy and Vega?” I ask, not wanting to be caught again by our daughters.
“My mother has them. They decided against swimming, and she’s entertaining them at her house.”
Charlie continues to lead me up the back staircase and then down the hall to his room. Once inside, he locks the double doors to it.
“Charlie,” I whisper, uncertain what he wants from me right now, and not certain I can muster my attraction to him.
“Bathroom,” he says, shrugging off his suit coat and tossing it on the bed. He waves a hand forward, directing me to enter the smaller room of his, and I pause near the sink. Memories flash of him rinsing my hand, attempting to remove the ring from my finger. Then us in the two-person shower. The tub faucet comes on, stealing my thoughts. Besides a rain shower, Charlie also has a deep freestanding tub that he’s filling as he tugs his tie free and rolls up his sleeves.
He steps up to me and wordlessly unzips my black dress. He holds the sides as he lowers it to the floor, and I slip out of the material. His eyes roam my body as I stand in my heels and black lace underthings. I’m waiting for him to tell me he thinks I’m beautiful or he wants to fuck me, but he doesn’t say either.
“Take off your shoes,” he quietly commands, and while I do, he strokes a hand down my back. When I stand, Charlie’s biting his lip as though he has something to say that he’s fighting, or maybe he’s struggling with the hunger of desire.
He turns me around to unclasp my bra, and I help slide down my thong. Holding out his hand, he leads me to the tub, and I step in, sinking into the heavenly warmth. With my hair in a knot at the base of my neck, I don’t worry about it getting wet, and I slip as low as I can. Charlie stands over the tub, watching me melt into the steamy water. It’s strange to take a bath in the middle of a summer day, but I need a moment of peace.
And this is Charlie, anticipating what I need.
“I want to join you, but I’ll give you a few minutes alone.”
My wet arm flings over the edge of the porcelain, water dripping onto the tile floor. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Charlie closes his eyes. “I saw him touching you.”
I don’t have the strength to argue with him, but I know who he means. I know how he feels. I’d seen Richard with his hands on others, and my insides burned, but that was in the past. I’d brushed Richard off every chance I could today. The farce of his devotion was too much.
“I know. I’m sorry.” I swallow, afraid Charlie’s reached the end of his rope with me. “Join me.” My voice cracks, my throat clogging. I don’t want to lose him.
Charlie slowly reaches for the buttons of his shirt and then tugs it from the back of his head to remove it. He unbuckles his belt and kicks off his shoes at the same time. Lowering both pants and boxers, he leaves his things in a pile on the floor, and stands for another minute, allowing me to take in the grandeur of him.
Mayor McSteamy.
He’s so blindingly beautiful, I can understand his ex’s desire to photograph him.
My arm still dangles outside the tub, and I wiggle my fingers as my eyes focus on his growing erection.
“Scoot forward,” he says, and I allow him room to slip in behind me. Once his hands are on my skin, pulling me back against his chest, I relax in a way I haven’t done for days.
We stay quiet as Charlie just holds me. I’m aware of his stiffness pressing up against my backside, but my eyes close, just taking in this moment with him.
“I wasn’t as close to him as I should have been,” I finally say. Not that I feel the need to speak but more the words want to come out. “I should have been a better daughter.”
Charlie kisses my shoulder. “I’m sure you did what you could.”
Charlie doesn’t know. These are the things we don’t talk about. My upbringing. Where I come from.
“Zander and I went for long periods of time without seeing them, both as children and adults.” My abuela comes to mind. How innocent we were as children. How we didn’t know we’d gone without until we had more. “I should have come to see them.”
But Richard.
He wanted me to deny them. Play up the poor girl turned scholarship superstar. The one who had a career but gave it up for family. If only he’d done the same thing and put his family first.
Charlie’s arms slip from my waist, and he massages my shoulders.
“Tell me a good memory you have of your father.”
“One time, he took us ice skating. In Texas, who ice skates?” I softly laugh. “But it was near the holidays, and a chill filled the air. An outdoor rink was made in downtown Houston, and he took us. It was nighttime, and lights hung over the ice.” I remember thinking it was magical, and I was happy my parents had returned. We were finally going to be a family. The four of us, not two sets of two. It didn’t last. I grew to be a surly teen, and my father worked long hours as did my mother. I was embarrassed by them some days and prayed they wouldn’t attend a game or school function.
My eyes close. I’m a terrible daughter.
“It sounds like a nice memory,” Charlie says, moving his attention to my neck, and I tip my head forward. His fingers dig into my hair, loosening the bun. “Tell me more.”
For the next few minutes, I tell him snippets of memories, striving for the good ones and not the bad. Not the ones where Papi yelled at me for letting my grades slip, or told me a girl couldn’t do something boys normally did, or expressed his disappointment when I told him I was pregnant out of wedlock, even if I was thirty-two years old.
Eventually, I quiet, falling into my memories as they meld together but also concentrating on the feel of Charlie’s fingers digging into my skin.
“That feels so good,” I whisper. His palms coast over my shoulders and down to my fingers. He works each digit, taking his time to press and stretch at them. Each hand falls back to the water after he finishes, and his hands lower beneath the water and squeeze my thighs. My knees bend, and Charlie presses at the inside of each leg, working his way to my center.
“Charlie,” I groan with a slight chuckle. He just can’t resist, and I’m liking it too much. His fingers coast over me—first from one hand and then the next—until finally one set settles and rubs at my clit. His other hand moves up my body for a breast, and his mouth lowers to my
neck. It’s sensory overload with his teeth nipping, his fingers pinching, and two fingers pushing into me.
I moan his name, and he replies, “I owe you for the other night. You didn’t come, and I never want to leave you unsatisfied.” It’s a sweet sentiment as my ex never cared one way or the other.
“You always satisfy me, Charlie.” He’s quiet as his attention increases. Fingers working at both my center and my breasts while his teeth become more aggressive.
“Do I make you happy?” he asks, and I hum in response, not able to find even the simplest of words, like yes. “I want to please you.”
“You do,” I whisper, falling under his spell as his fingers move faster and others pinch harder. He sucks at my neck, breaking skin for a mark, but I don’t care at the moment. I fall into him, coming long and sweet, luscious and lapping like the water in this tub.
“Hmm, sweetheart. I love it when you come like this.” He knows what he’s done, dragging it out of me, and I spin, forcing his fingers to release me. Rising on my knees, I straddle him. The water sloshes around us, crashing over the edge of the tub, but my eyes stay fixed on him. My mouth covers his, taking my time to draw out the kiss. My tongue seeks his as my fingers dig into his hair.
“I need you,” I tell him, and he grips himself, so I balance on the tip. Sex in water is different, and I lower in shuddering halts before he’s fully inside me. Once sheathed within, we still and continue to kiss until his fingers dig into my hips. Slowly, I dance over him, taking my time to feel him moving inside me. The water rushes around us, but I float into an oblivion of only Charlie. My hands curl around the back of his neck, and I hold on as I rock, rubbing my clit against his pubic bone in a way the friction is too much.
When I warn him with only his name, he sits upright and takes my mouth, swallowing my moan as I come again around him. He comes within seconds while I’m clenching at him, but he doesn’t stop kissing me. As we settle into the sweetness after our lingering orgasm, our foreheads press together, and Charlie blurts, “Don’t go back to Richard.”
Reality slams into me. I don’t want to discuss Richard.
“Charlie, not now.”
“Not ever,” he says, tightening his hold on me. “I don’t want to see him touching you. I don’t want him using you or Vega. Tell him no deal. Tell him to go away.” His voice pleads with me, but my irritation grows.
“I’m not discussing him with you like this.” I slip off him and stand, allowing water to cascade down my body like a waterfall. Charlie reaches forward and tugs my hips, so my center comes to his lips. His tongue comes forward, and he licks me once.
I cry out in shock and instant stimulation.
How can I want him again?
“Tell me I’m yours and you’re mine, not his.”
“Oh, my God.” I tug free of his grasp and step out of the tub. I can’t do this with him. Not after what we just did. I reach for a towel and hastily dry off.
“I’m serious about you moving in with me. We can pretend we’re engaged. It will take the heat off you.” Charlie stands behind me, but I refuse to look at the water display I’m certain graces his firm body. He reaches for a towel as well, then steps out of the tub and covers himself at the waist. He doesn’t bother to dry off.
“You’re asking me to pretend with one man compared to another?” My heart races with the thought. Doesn’t he understand? I’m not pretending with Charlie. Besides, how would that look for him?
I slip into my underwear and latch my bra while Charlie watches me. Reaching for my dress, I step into it and then a shoe. Lifting my other foot, I slip into the second one.
“I’m not pretending anything,” he says as I struggle to reach my zipper until Charlie grabs it and slowly zips me up.
“I’m not pretending either. With anyone.” I smooth down the sides of my dress, refusing to look at him. I will not play house with him. Not with Vega involved. Not with my heart on the line. “I need to get back to my mother.”
Hardly able to look at him, I exit his bathroom, feeling once again like I’m the worst person. I just skipped out on my father’s funeral luncheon to have sex with a man, and that man has me all tangled up inside. It’s when I’m finally outside that I reflect on his words and wonder what he meant when he said he wasn’t pretending.
22
Bedtime Stories
[Janessa]
When I return to my mother’s home, Richard awaits me just outside the front door.
“Where have you been?” he snaps, blocking me from entering the house. His hand comes to my upper arm.
“Don’t touch me,” I say through clenched teeth as I smile at someone leaving the house. Richard’s grip tightens on me. Where is his image manager? Shouldn’t she be here policing him? “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I’m here to support my wife, who’s been missing for an hour,” he says under his breath, nodding at someone in the driveway. I tug free when he looks away from me.
“As I’m not your wife, I don’t need your support, and I’m not doing this. I’m not pretending with you.”
“It’s a million dollars,” he mutters, turning back to me.
“Richard, something you fail to remember, along with several other things like our marriage vows, is that I don’t care about the money. I cared about you, us, and Vega as our daughter, but none of that mattered to you. I don’t want your money, and I’m not playing this little game with you.”
“Are you fucking someone?” His dark eyes narrow as he looks down at me, his sight latching onto the spot where I’m certain Charlie left a mark. Once upon a time, I fell in love with those eyes. Another time, I feared them. Today, I couldn’t give a shit.
“If I was, it would never be your business.” I cross my arms and glare up at him.
“You’ll always be my business,” he retorts, holding my gaze. “Plus, we have a deal.”
“I was never your business, Richard. Not when you married me, fathered our child, or stepped out the first time, or the second, or the twentieth, and the moment our daughter walked in on you with someone else, you no longer became our business. We’re finished.” I’m not even going to address his accusation of sleeping with someone. We’re divorced.
I move to step around him, but he stops me again. His fingers come to my elbow.
“I’ve told you once before, don’t walk away from me.” The words were said when Vega and I left. He warned me not to leave. Then he begged me as we sat before lawyers, but there was no going back to him.
“Excuse me.” A female Southern drawl dripping with determination comes up behind me, and we both shift as if we are blocking the way into the house. Only once we move, the woman comes closer; her eyes narrowed in on Richard’s hand at my elbow.
“Corabelle Conrad.” She sticks out her hand, eyeing Richard so he must release me in order to shake her offered hand.
“Richard Swank.” He shakes and then shakes his head to move his hair. It’s a nervous tic he gets before going into professional ballplayer, full-on flirt mode. “Nessa’s husband.”
She smiles, but there’s something too saccharine about her grin, almost sarcastic. “Nessa’s neighbor.” She states this like it’s just as important as Richard’s nonexistent label. “Bless your heart, you can’t keep your hands off her.” Cora leans in like she’s about to impart a secret but slips her arm into mine. “But I’m going to kindly suggest you take your hands off the missus. Inappropriate and all as she’s grieving her daddy.”
My eyes widen as my lips roll inward, fighting a startled laugh.
“The missus belongs to me.” He grins largely although his eyes slowly narrow.
“The missus has a name,” I mutter. “And it’s no longer missus.”
“That’s what I’ve heard, so you’ll be leaving unless you want me to get June on the line.” Cora stands tall, facing off to my ex-husband although she and I have not officially met. She lives on the other side of the bushes lining the outer dri
ve to the coach house. She’s divorced and owns a nearby lodge.
“Who’s June?” Richard’s smile turns smarmy as though he’s prepared to charm the next woman.
“She’s the sheriff, and she does not take to men manhandling their exes.” Cora’s face stays sweet, but her voice turns to vitriol. “Now, I believe you were saying your sweet goodbye, and Nessa and I are going inside to sit with her mother since her father died.” Her emphasis on the final word brings back all my guilt of leaving Mami alone, but it’s mixed with sass to remind Richard he’s being disrespectful.
“Daddy?” Vega’s strangled cry turns my head, and my heart breaks with the shock on her face. She runs to him, and I hold my breath with anticipation of his reception. If I have grand ideas, he’ll swoop her in his arms and hold her to him like Charlie did that day by the pool with Lucy, but I’m wrong. Vega runs to her father and then collides with his body like a brick wall. His large hand comes to her shoulder blade, and he awkwardly pats her.
“Hey, kiddo.”
She looks up at him, stars in her eyes, but there are clouds covering them as well. She doesn’t see him like she should despite walking in on him with someone else.
“Daddy, are you staying here, too?”
“No, I’m staying at the Conrad Lodge.”
“Seeing as I own that…” Cora interjects, clearing her throat. “I look forward to seeing you there.” It’s another hint for Richard to leave, and he seethes as he turns back to Cora, his hand still on Vega’s back. His mouth opens as though he’s ready to speak—more likely to spew insults—when his image manager stumbles out of the house.
“There you are,” she says, her voice tight. “We need to get going. You need to be back in Atlanta by this evening.” Her eyes travel from me to him and back. She looks out of breath, but maybe she’s holding hers, waiting on him to lose it. Instead, he nods at her, pats Vega one more time, and steps out of her arms. No hug. No kiss.
“I’ll be calling you,” he mutters under his breath to me as Ruthie holds out a hand, prompting him to walk away. Vega stares after him.