by Kira Blakely
“Please,” I whimpered and propped myself up on my elbows, looked down at him, at his cock, as hungry for me as I was for him. “I need you inside me.”
Need. I’ve never needed anything before except for air, water, and food. He’s what I need. He’s right. This is a craving.
Weren’t addictions supposed to be destructive?
He squeezed my thigh then took hold of the base of his dick. He ran his thick head between my lips, grunting, growling, like an animal. Like my god damn animal.
Houston’s eyes blazed passion. Any emotion he’d locked away broke free. “Do you want to be owned? Owned and mine. Mine because I’m yours?”
“Yes,” I hissed. “Please! Please.”
“You already are,” he replied, then pressed his dripping, broad tip into my entrance.
My pussy sucked him in.
“Fuck me,” he grunted. “Fucking hell. You’re just as fucking tight as the first time.”
“More,” I demanded. I’d never demanded anything in my life. “More!” I clenched tight around him.
“Patience,” he said, but it came out a groan. He settled himself between my legs. He still hadn’t entered me fully.
“Please, Houston, I can’t take anymore. I can’t take it.”
He forced himself into me in one sharp thrust.
I cried out and slapped the desk with both hands. He threw back his head and growled to the ceiling.
“Is that what you want?” he asked. “Huh?”
“Yes, please.”
He set up a rhythm, grabbed hold of my calves and lifted them, folded my legs back, and pinned me open.
Every thrust filled me completely. He was the perfect size for me, and that pressure of his girth, scraping against my g-spot deep within, was too much once again. I closed tight around him and moaned.
“Whoa,” he said. “Whoa, Charlie. I’m going to come if you do that.”
The condom! He forgot the condom! It didn’t matter to me, anymore, but he didn’t know that.
No wonder this was too good. No wonder I was close to my second orgasm within minutes. Skin on skin. Raw. Deep.
“Don’t come inside,” I managed.
His eyes widened at that. “Fuck,” he said, but if anything, his tone was laden with more pleasure than before. “Charlie, I’m bare inside you.”
“Uh-huh,” I squeaked.
Another tide rose and washed closer to me, threatened to swish me away. Ecstasy rolling in.
Bare inside me. He was bare and hard, and he filled me to the brim.
“I’m going to come,” I said and reached back over my shoulders, gripped the edge of the desk and arched my back. “Oh, god, I’m coming. Houston, I’m coming.”
My climax shattered the one from moments before. It came from within, built with his orgasm.
He thickened inside me, impossibly big. Huge.
“I want to come inside you,” he growled, then pulled out and rested his slick cock on the top of my mound. He squirted on my belly, three, four pumps of hot cum, and accompanied each with another beast-man growl.
After a minute of simply breathing, he stepped back. “Shit,” he said. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
“No,” I agreed, even though it was already too late.
We hadn’t risked anything before, and it’d happened anyway. Now, it didn’t matter, he could’ve come inside me, and when I told him why, he probably wouldn’t want to.
Houston walked off and disappeared through a doorway, and I let my legs fall to the sides, laying there with air washing over my still pulsing pussy.
What have I done? Oh, god, I shouldn’t have. But all the talk of actually being together, of trying this out, had overwhelmed my sense of responsibility.
Houston had a manner about him—he burned up the thinking part of me and left nothing behind but raw passion and desire. It was wrong. This was all wrong, now, and I’d done nothing to stop it.
I’d let it happen.
Oh god, oh god. He’ll never forgive me for lying. Omitting.
I had to tell him now.
But the thought of it curdled my stomach. I groaned and made to sit up.
“Wait!” Houston hurried back to me, towel in hand. Carefully, he wiped it across my abdomen and cleaned off his cum. He turned the towel over, then ran that between my legs, brushing the fabric over that sensitive nub.
I jerked again, and he chuckled.
“There,” he said and offered me a hand. “All better. It’ll be even better once we hop into the shower together.”
He helped me up, and the guilt intensified. “OK.”
“Are you all right?”
“Fine,” I said.
“Shit, you’re worried, aren’t you?”
I froze. How did he—?
“It was a stupid fucking mistake. Trust me, I’m usually on top of that shit. I carry condoms in my wallet. I’m sorry, Charlie. We’ll go get Plan B if it’ll make you feel better.”
“You don’t need to be sorry,” I said and bowed my head. “It takes two.”
“Damn straight,” he said and pinched my cheek. “Come on, let’s hit the shower.”
If he bought me Plan B, I’d die. I’d spontaneously combust on the spot, then blurt out the truth, and he’d likely watch me burn. How could he not help feeling as if I’d trapped him?
His mom brought him back, he lost his job, and I’d spring this “problem” on him a day later? Yeah, that didn’t look suspicious at all.
“Charlie?” He smoothed his thumbs over my cheeks, held my face. He kissed me, softly. “It’s going to be OK.”
“OK,” I said.
“Let’s shower.”
“OK.”
I was on autopilot throughout the shower. Houston took the soap and washed my body, parted my legs and cleaned there, too. For such a large man, he was incredibly gentle.
And once again, it only made me feel worse.
The longer I kept this from him, the worse it would get.
We got out of the shower, dried up, and dressed in the same clothes we’d arrived in. I turned to him and steeled myself.
I wasn’t the type of person who could keep stuff locked up. Not stuff that I’d done wrong, at least.
“Houston, I’m—”
My phone buzzed in the pocket of my jeans. I jumped.
“What?” He caught my arm. “What’s wrong?”
“My phone’s ringing,” I said and dragged it out. I’d forgotten I’d brought the thing with me to the damn meeting with Principal Henrietta.
Pammy’s name flashed on the screen.
“It’s my aunt,” I said. “Crap, I was supposed to call her to talk about the school after the meeting. She’s probably worried sick.” The time in the top right hand corner of the screen read 18:30.
“Take it.” Houston smiled at me.
I swiped my thumb across the screen and pressed the phone to my ear. Yeah, this was procrastination, avoidance for sure, but Pammy was worried. She’d probably call the cops and try to report me missing if I didn’t answer the call.
“Hey,” I said.
“Well, hey to you, too. Where the hell are ya?” my aunt asked, in a too-cheery voice. “I’m only about ten seconds away from calling your mother, father, the police, the military, you name it.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I lost track of time.”
“Oh? How? You never lose track of time. You’re practically a walking alarm clock, Charlie.”
“I was—with someone,” I said.
Houston smirked at me, thumbed his nose.
“With someone? My, my. Is this a male someone?”
“Yes,” I replied, and I didn’t have the fortitude to blush. Guilt had overridden basically all of my other emotions.
“Goodness. Well, you’ll have to tell me all about it when you get home.”
It struck me like a hammer between the eyes. If anyone would know how I should handle this stuff with Houston, with the baby, it was Pammy. S
he’d give me the right kind of advice. The no-nonsense, do-the-right-thing type.
She’d probably have great suggestions as to where and when I should do it, and I doubted that “right after you’ve had unprotected sex” would qualify as the when. And a motel room as the where.
“I’m on my way home,” I said, then hung up.
Yeah, all I needed was time. Time to work out how to break the news to him. A day maximum. That was what I’d thought out at the hot springs, and it was what I’d do. Except, now I’d have Pammy to back me up.
“Ready to go?” Houston asked.
“Huh?”
“You don’t think I’m going to let you walk alone, right? That’d be crazy.”
“It’s Summit Springs,” I replied. “It’s perfectly safe.”
“Right.” He grabbed my hand again. “Safe. Come on, Charlie. You can finally introduce me to this aunt of yours, and we’ll pick up some Plan B along the way.”
Now, that wasn’t part of the plan. Excuse the horrific pun.
“And don’t worry, I won’t tell her I climbed out of your window and scuffed the sill. That’ll be our secret.”
Secret, huh? I had far too many of those already.
I let Houston lead me out of the motel room and down the street, trying for a smile, for anything other than worry, worry, and more worry.
I couldn’t dress this up fancy.
The truth stared me dead in the eye.
He wouldn’t forgive me for this. I’d lose him tomorrow.
Chapter 22
Houston
We walked down the street together, her holding the package from the drug store, and me with my hands tucked into the pockets of my jeans. The heat of the day had dwindled, at last, but there wasn’t a breeze and the silence between us stifled me.
Charlie seemed off.
She’s worried about what happened. Fuck, I was an idiot. I’d always been wary of going raw, yet with her, I’d lost my damn mind. I’d been inside her before the thought “condom” had occurred to me.
We turned the corner to the street that held her aunt’s house, still quiet, the dusk coating us. Purple light filtered between the houses in the street, shaded the sidewalk, and shrouded parked cars.
Soon, it’d be dark, and I’d have the entire night to do fuck knew what. I wasn’t as worried about the Plan B as Charlie had to be.
“Nice evening,” I said.
She shifted the drug store bag at her side, the paper crinkling.
“It’s going to be all right.” I looked over at her, drank up the sight of her hair, still damp from our shower together. “That stuff works like a fucking bomb. It’ll mess with your hormones for a while, but it’ll come right after a while.”
She nodded.
“Charlie, it was a dumbass mistake. Breathe, OK? It’ll all work out.”
No answer there. Fuck it. I can’t make her feel better. I can’t do anything that will help her understand that this isn’t the end of the damn world.
Charlie opened the picket gate at the front of her cottage, then entered and held it for me.
I smiled at her again and got a tiny one in return. She was pale, too.
She had enough stress to deal with her job, and I’d added to it. I’d never cared about anyone this much before.
I followed her up the path, let the gate swing shut behind me, and the front door opened before we’d reached the steps.
A woman in her fifties came out, her hair colored cherry red, and a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. “There you are,” she said. “I was starting to worry all over again.”
“I’m fine,” Charlie said, in a totally not-fine voice.
Her aunt looked over at me, and I nodded to her. “Hi,” I said.
“You must be him, then,” she replied. “I’ve noticed Charlie acting a little different of late. I didn’t realize this was the reason why.”
“Pammy,” Charlie said, then cleared her throat. “This is Houston Pope. Houston, this is my aunt Pammy.”
“Charmed.” Pammy stuck out her hand.
I took it and shook once. “Nice to meet you,” I replied, though my thoughts still revolved around Charlie and whether she’d be all right. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I can’t say the same for you, Mr. Pope.”
“Doctor,” Charlie said.
For the first time in my entire life, the label actually embarrassed me a little. It wasn’t necessary for her to be formal with me.
“A doctor?” Pammy raised two penciled eyebrows.
“Yeah. We do have a natural habitat. It’s not all hospitals and private practices,” I replied.
“And this is your natural habitat?” Pammy asked and gestured to the street behind us. “Summit Springs?”
“For now,” I replied.
Charlie shifted beside me.
Will she come with me when I leave? Fuck, do I want her to? Do I want this type of pressure?
Yes, yes, and yes again. We’d crossed the boundary. Gone from dangerous to borderline disaster.
“Houston just came by to drop me off,” Charlie said and tucked the drug store bag behind her back, held it there by the fingertips.
Another dismissal from the angel. Another reason to want her even more. She wasn’t into fawning over me. She wasn’t desperate for my attention, and that made me want to give it to her. Catch-22.
“Oh?” Pammy stepped back and leaned against the doorjamb, blocking Charlie’s entrance. It had to be intentional. “You don’t want to come in for coffee, Dr. Pope? I’m sure we’d all have a lot to talk about.”
“Nah, I’ve got to head back,” I said. To my empty hotel room filled with her scent. “Thanks anyway.”
Charlie sighed relief beside me. I touched two fingers to her cheek, and she jolted as if I’d electrocuted her instead. “Brunch tomorrow morning,” I said. “You and me. We’ll make a better picnic or go to a restaurant.”
“That’s sweet,” she said, quietly. “But I already have plans.”
“With whom?” Jealousy unfurled in my chest. Another first.
“With Pammy, of course,” she replied and smiled past me at her aunt. “We made plans ages ago. We need to catch up.”
Catch up? They fucking lived together. I switched focus to the aunt, who’d frozen in the doorway, a tiny frown on her brow. She noticed my gaze and it disappeared. “Right,” she said. “Brunch. Long time coming. That’s going to be awesome.”
I didn’t buy it, but I wasn’t some pussy who’d beg for attention. If Charlie didn’t want this to happen, that was on her.
I kissed her on the lips, regardless, brushed my heat against hers, then nodded to Pammy. “Great to meet you,” I said. “See ya around.”
I walked down the garden path and let myself out into the street, walked off without a backward glance because that wasn’t me. I slowed my pace at the corner, looked left and then right.
What was there to do in this nowhere town apart from thinking about my woman? Your woman, god damn, you’re fucking whipped. Not even dating, not really, and you’re whipped already.
I shoved aside the thoughts and took a right. I could head back to the motel and lie around, watch something mind-numbing on the TV, or I could take a break from it all and grab a drink.
The Clear Springs Bar wasn’t exactly the ”hot and happening” place, not that I gave a fuck, but it was better than an empty motel room and re-runs of some bullshit, canned-laughter show.
I drifted down the street, still thinking about Charlie and her taste, her smell, her strange reaction after our little mistake, and the future.
What the fuck would I do?
I walked slow, and darkness fell around me. The wrought-iron lamps clicked on and illuminated little vignettes of concrete and the curved edges of benches. Crickets chirped, and a dog barked in the distance. Such a quaint little town, too small to hold me.
But was it too small for Charlie?
The longer I walked, the more
obsessive the thoughts became. It was all her.
Charlotte Stinson.
What had she done to me? One night had been the first hit, one week the subsequent addiction, the months after filled with cravings, and now this.
Finally, I reached the Clear Springs Bar, its outside decorated in those flashing lights. The name lit up for all to see. It was the only bar in town, wasn’t like it needed to be this loud to get the attention of the locals.
I crunched across the grit in the parking lot, still shrouded somewhat by the darkness.
The door to the bar slapped open and a man stepped out, dragging a woman behind him.
I frowned, and recognition crashed over me and my upper lip curled.
It’s the fucker.
Greg, in all his sleazy slicked-back hair and polo shirt, leading a woman out of into the lot. She was hawkish, with brown hair, but she wasn’t my concern.
This was the asshole who’d hurt Charlie. I’d make him pay. I’d fucking—
“Stop,” the woman said. “Greggie, we can’t do this tonight. If your wife finds out…”
“What?” Greg stopped and turned. He faced my direction, the woman in front of him, back to me.
I sidled back a couple steps, as quietly as possible and leaned against a tree. Sure, I had on a white fucking tee, but ”Greggie” over there was more concerned with the tiny dick between his legs than whoever lurked in the darkness on the edge of the parking lot.
“We don’t want anyone to know,” the woman said and sniffed, reached back and tugged on the ass seat of her pants. Classy as fuck.
This was yet another example of a pig in silk. Dress it up, put makeup on it, but it was still a pig.
“You really think my wife would care?”
“Greggie, you know Jenny would freak out. I don’t need any pressure from—”
“She won’t find out, and fuck it, even if she did, she’s too afraid to admit it to herself. She bores me, and she knows it deep down. Baby, it’s only a matter of time before I leave her for good and we can be together. Just you and me.”
“Just you and me?” The woman snorted. “How stupid do you think I am? I know it’s not just you and me. It’s you and every other woman who’ll have you.”