by Andrews, Amy
Charlie didn’t have to be asked twice. He swung her up into his arms and strode with her through the apartment thankful his lust-drugged brain managed to remember the way.
He kissed her as he lowered her feet to the floor, his hands burying themselves in her wavy auburn locks. Her moan and the cling of her arms around his neck made him want to take her on the spot. But he also wanted to take his time.
To look at her. To touch her. To lick her all over.
His hands stroked down her near-naked back as his kiss deepened. Her skin was soft and warm and he took his time exploring every inch. He caressed the curve of her waist, his thumb running up and down the concave smoothness. He lingered in the hollow of her back, teasing the flesh, his fingers flirting with the waistband of her shorts.
She moaned against his mouth and he could sense her barely restrained control in the huskiness of her breath and the tremble of her fingers as they splayed through his hair. He was holding her so close he could feel the squash of her breasts hot against him, the lace of her bra scraping against his chest.
He lifted his head. He wanted to look at her. Touch her.
Carrie whimpered as he pulled away. His mouth was like a drug, a really addictive, really incredible drug and he’d just withdrawn her supply.
‘Shh,’ he hushed her, running a finger over her lips. ‘I want to look at you.’
She blushed and was grateful that the only light in the room was from the streetlight outside. The way his gaze devoured her breasts was doing funny things to her breathing and made her knees weak. And then his finger ran along the edge of the lace and her nipples hardened instantly and everything heated inside.
It was incredibly erotic, watching his fingers stroke over the lace, and she swayed, her eyes closing on a swell of longing. And then his lips were stroking heat up her neck and behind her ear, his fingers toying with her bra clasp.
Charlie struggled uselessly with the clasp, his fingers clumsy in his rush to touch. No matter how hard he tried he didn’t seem to be able to unhook the damn thing.
Carrie was so involved with the fire he was igniting along her collar-bone she didn’t even register his trouble.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I guess I’m out of practice. It’s been a while.’
It took a second for Carrie to figure out what he was talking about. ‘Oh.’ She grinned. ‘I bet it hasn’t been as long as me.’
He smiled back, stroking a stray lock of her hair out of her eyes. ‘Maybe not. But six months is a long time.’
‘Huh,’ she said dismissively. ‘Try nearly five.’
Charlie chuckled. ‘It’s OK, it’s one of those things you never forget.’
She was captivated by his intense gaze. ‘Are you sure?’ she whispered.
He nodded slowly. ‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind taking this off...’ He ran an index finger around a lace-covered nipple. ‘I’ll demonstrate.’
Carrie’s hands shook as she reached behind and unclasped her bra, barely able to breathe from the blaze in his eyes. She removed it slowly, suddenly shy. No one but Dana had seen her naked in four years. The urge to cover herself was strong and she raised her hands to cross them across her chest.
‘No,’ Charlie whispered, exerting gentle pressure on her arms, and was gratified when they fell by her sides.
His loins stirred as he took in the beauty of her breasts. Her nipples were scrunched hard in the centre of all her lush fullness. ‘I’ve been fantasising what lay beneath those damn buttons for weeks.’
His voice was husky and Carrie again felt herself sway towards him. When he reached out and cupped her breasts, ran a thumb over each nipple, she gasped out loud. ‘Please,’ she whispered.
She had no idea why she’d said it but when he swept her close, lowered his head and covered one rosy peak with his mouth, she knew exactly why. ‘Oh, God, yes!’
He pushed her back against the bed and then it was just a swirl of sensation. The heaviness of his body pinning her to the mattress. The hardness of his erection as his maleness encompassed her. The thrill of his touch against her skin. The pleasure of his tongue at her pulse points. The eroticism of his bite as he used his teeth like a weapon.
A weapon of sweet, sensual torture.
She wasn’t sure where her gasps ended and his groans began. Whose pounding heart reverberated through her body? His or hers? Whose irregular breathing echoed in her ears? His or hers?
They seemed to have morphed into one being. One entity. Locked in a mating frenzy. A sexual bubble. Not knowing or caring where one began and the other one finished.
His hand slipped beneath her waistband and into her panties and Carrie groaned out loud, biting into his shoulder as his fingers sought and found her centre. They felt so good inside her she thought she was going to reach orgasm just from their pressure alone.
Reaching down she found his fly and unzipped with shaking fingers. Pushing his underwear aside, Carrie filled her hands with his proud, surging manhood, his sharp indrawn breath a potent aphrodisiac.
‘Carrie,’ he groaned.
She smiled against his mouth. ‘What?’ she asked, grasping him and stroking her hand up and down.
‘Carrie,’ Charlie growled. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to hold out if she kept that up. He held his hand firmly against hers. ‘Later. Right now I think you need to get out of those clothes.’
He pushed himself away from her, rising to his knees, snagging her waistband and dragging her shorts and panties over her hips and down her legs until she was completely naked.
‘You, too.’ She raised a leg and placed her foot against his hardness, feeling him twitch. ‘Take ’em off.’
Charlie laughed, divested himself of the remainder of his clothes and climbed back on the bed, hovering above her on his hands and knees. She raised her head off the bed, her lips seeking his and he dipped, letting her claim his mouth, probe it with her tongue.
He pulled away and grinned at her moan of protest. He grinned even more at her moaned, ‘Yes,’ as he lowered his mouth to first one nipple then the other, revelling in her low moan as he licked down to her belly button, ran wet circles around it and delved inside.
And he exulted in her ‘Charlie!’ as he moved lower and found her sweet hot centre.
Carrie almost combusted at the touch of his tongue against her folds. He found the right spot instantly and her hips rose off the bed involuntarily. His tongue flicked expertly and she cried out. And when he pushed a finger inside and then pulled it out before plunging in again, mimicking the ultimate sexual act, she cried out louder because she was shattering into pieces and nothing could hold the shuddering of her body in check.
Charlie covered her mouth with his as his finger continued to stroke, stoke, sate. Swallowing her primal cries was dizzying, satisfying beyond his wildest dreams.
He had made her come apart. He had made her pulse around his finger. He had made her crazy with lust.
She devoured his mouth and he plundered hers in return, sucking up every last moan and whimper as her orgasm subsided.
‘Charlie.’ A depleted Carrie floated back down to earth.
He laughed and kissed her again hard, gathering her close, rolling over so she lay on top of him. His hands pressed against her buttocks, pressing her into the jut of his still rock-hard erection.
Carrie roused herself, kissing his mouth, his eyes, his shoulder. ‘Let’s do that again.’
He chuckled. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Yes, indeed you are.’ She smiled, rubbing herself against the hard ridge of his sex.
‘Carrie,’ he warned.
She kissed him hard on the mouth. ‘Please, tell me you have condoms.’
‘Wallet. Back pocket.’ Joe had given them to him the other night. Not that he’d needed them.
Carrie grinned, leaping off the bed, locating his discarded clothes and finding a foil packet. She held it up triumphantly and ripped it open with her teeth. Within seconds she had Charlie cov
ered and he had pulled her down on the bed, trapping her beneath him, biting her neck as he slowly entered her.
‘Oh, yes,’ he groaned as her tightness surrounded him.
‘Again,’ she whispered into his ear, the one stroke nowhere near enough. Charlie obliged. ‘Oh, yes,’ Carrie breathed into his ear and he obliged again. And again. ‘God,’ she whimpered, ‘Don’t stop.’
Stop? Was she mad? ‘Carrie,’ he cried as the pressure in his loins built to unbearable proportions.
She felt so good around him - underneath him - Charlie wanted to pound inside her for ever.
Hold close like this for ever, be joined for ever.
But the pressure was working against him, taking over, beyond his control, and he cried out her name as it erupted, pulsing like a molten lava flow through his veins, buzzing
like an electric current through every cell in his body.
And finally spilling out in white-hot ecstasy.
Carrie cried out, too, as her body became embroiled in the heat and rush of her own orgasm – even more powerful than the last. Her body was buffeted by shock waves more violent than the last. An internal mushroom cloud rippling through all the cells of her body. And all she could do was hold onto Charlie, anchor herself to him as they wreaked their erotic havoc.
The tumult rose to a crescendo and then slowly, slowly Charlie came down from the heights. Carrie was still clenching around him and the odd shudder still quaked through his muscles. They were silent, like feathers floating to the ground, only their breathing breaking the quiet.
Not bad for two out-of-practice people.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHARLIE woke the next morning, sun streaming in through the window, a little finger lifting his eyelid.
‘You had a sleepover, Charlie?’
Oh, fuck!
Charlie opened both eyes. Dana’s smiling face greeted him. Carrie, who was snuggled into his back, stiffened.
Sprung! ‘Morning, Sleeping Beauty.’
‘Darling,’ Carrie said, rising up on her elbow to look over Charlie’s shoulder, amazed at how much she wanted to bite it, even confronted with this truly horrible situation.
‘I’m hungry,’ Dana said. ‘Do you know how to make pancakes, Charlie?’
‘Ah...yes, I do, actually,’ he said, despite Carrie’s finger poking into his ribs.
‘Come on, then. Pancakes are Mummy’s favourite.’ Dana pulled at the edge of the sheet.
‘Darling!’ Carrie said, grabbing the sheet and holding it fast to Charlie’s flat stomach. ‘Why don’t you go and get the bowl and jug and eggs out and Charlie will join you in just a moment?’
‘OK,’ Dana said agreeably. She dropped the sheet and skipped out, dragging blanky behind her.
Carrie collapsed back, groaning, and stared at the ceiling. Charlie pressed his lips together really hard to stop himself from laughing. He knew this was bad.
Very bad.
That Dana could read things into this that he wasn’t sure he was capable of, but after an amazing night he was relaxed enough to see the humour in the situation.
Carrie punched him lightly on the arm. ‘This is not funny, Charlie.’
He chuckled out loud. He couldn’t help it.
‘You were supposed to be gone two hours ago!’
‘I know, I know, but you wanted to snuggle for just a bit longer and, well, frankly, you wore me out. I just closed my eyes for a second.’
‘This is a disaster,’ Carrie muttered, trying not to think about the eyeful her daughter would have had if she’d managed to pull back that sheet.
Or how they’d made love over and over until the wee small hours. Even when their supply of four condoms had run out, he’d laid her back and made it all about her.
Charlie should have been concerned. He should have been worried, too, but he was too happy at this moment to care. He hadn’t felt this good since before his marriage had fallen apart.
He rose from the bed and stretched languorously and Carrie swallowed hard as she ogled his naked buttocks, tightening with the movement. And the muscles of his broad tanned back.
Oh, God, the things he had done to her.
‘Charlie, for heaven’s sake, put something on. Dana could wander in here any second.’
Charlie turned and grinned down at her, watching her eyes widen as she stared at his full frontal nudity. His dick twitched at the desire he saw there.
‘Are you sure?’
His voice was deep and lazy and sexy and Carrie wanted nothing more than to pull him back into bed. But...
‘Charlie,’ she warned.
He laughed and hunted down his clothes. ‘My shirt is in the lounge room.’
Carrie groaned again. ‘Great.’
He looked at her lying in bed, the sheet pulled primly up to her chin and suppressed the urge to yank the sheet down and just stare at her. She couldn’t hide behind her morning-after primness with him. Not when he knew every delicious inch of her body.
‘Are you getting up or shall Dana and I make you breakfast in bed?’
Dana and I. The way he’d said it had been so possessive it scared the hell out of her. It was something a father would do with his daughter.
A partner would do.
But he wasn’t Dana’s father and he wasn’t her partner. To get caught up in this little fantasy was dangerous. ‘No. I’ll have a quick shower and be out in a flash.’
‘Sounds like fun.’ He waggled his eyebrows.
Carrie’s toes curl at the flirtatious tone and promise in his grey eyes. This was insane. Do not read anything into this, woman! ‘Go, Charlie, now.’
He chuckled. ‘Okay, okay. I’m going.’
Charlie scanned the lounge room for his missing shirt. He was looking under the lounge when Dana found him.
‘Here’s your shirt, Charlie,’ she said, holding it out. ‘Did it get hot last night?’
Oh, hell yeah. It got very, very hot. ‘A little,’ he said, ruffling her hair and putting on his shirt. ‘Right, let’s make pancakes.’
Charlie laughed and joked with Dana as he cooked. She cracked him up with her four-year-old observations and her baby jokes. The longer he spent in her company the more charmed he was by her mix of exuberance and innocence.
The enormity of what he and Carrie had done last night - its implications - hit him square between the eyes as he flipped pancakes. This little girl was looking at him as if he were God, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny all rolled into one.
He liked kids, had wanted his own. It had been the deal-breaker in his marriage. But this was reality. What did he know about four year-old girls? How could he be a good father when he’d had such a lousy example? Did he have the right to impose his inexperienced parenting on this close-knit, loving mother-and-daughter team?
‘Mmm, something smells good.’
Charlie started as Carrie entered the room, a warmth spreading through his chest at the sound of her voice. He smiled at her gently, despite his chaotic thoughts. Her hair was damp from the shower and he wanted her all over again.
He cursed his weak body.
‘Charlie put banana in some, Mummy. They taste ’licious.’
‘Hey, I tried to put banana in a few times and you wouldn’t eat them,’ Carrie protested, kissing Dana’s head as she pulled up a stool opposite Charlie.
Dana nodded solemnly. ‘I know, but Charlie says you got to try everything once else how do you know whether you like it or not?’
‘Does he, now?’ Carrie commented. So Charlie was the expert now, was he?
Charlie saw the frown knit her eyebrows together. ‘OK, here you go,’ he said, interrupting Dana before she got him into any more trouble. He served her up two pancakes, drizzled maple syrup over them and dusted them with icing sugar. ‘Eat up,’ he instructed, and just because he wanted to see the frown disappear he threw in a teasing ‘You need to replace those burnt calories.’
Carrie bugged her eyes at him in warning as she took the pl
ate.
‘What’s calories?’ Dana asked, her mouth full of pancake.
Charlie stifled a laugh at the murderous look in Carrie’s eyes. ‘It’s how we measure energy in food,’ Carrie supplied. ‘Don’t eat with your mouth full, sweetie.’
Charlie helped himself to seconds — he’d burnt a few calories himself last night — and wisely kept quiet. He munched away silently while Dana kept up conversation with her mother.
I could get used to this.
The realisation sank in insidiously. It was domestic and homey and reeked of commitment. Everything he’d been determined to avoid. His heartbeat kicked up a notch as alarm bells started to ring. He shifted in his seat and glanced at his watch. He had to get out of here — clearly the atmosphere was affecting his ability to think straight.
Staying last night had been a mistake.
Dana swallowed the last of her pancake. ‘Can you stay all day?’ she asked Charlie.
‘No, darling,’ Carrie interrupted before Charlie could say anything. ‘Charlie has to go to work, don’t you?’ She sipped at her coffee, watching him furtively.
He nodded. ‘Yes, I do.’
Carrie noted how quickly he agreed with her and how he’d glanced at his watch twice now in a short time. He looked ill at ease suddenly and she wondered if he was already regretting last night now the cold light of morning had thrown her life into stark reality.
It shouldn’t have hurt. But it did.
‘Can he bring ding rolls tonight?’
‘No, spring rolls aren’t healthy every night. Go wash your hands, sweetie. Isn’t Bluey on soon?’
Dana’s face lit up. ‘Bluey!’
Carrie helped her off her stool and they both watched her run away to the bathroom.
Charlie smiled. ‘She’s a great kid.’
Carrie’s heart contracted. She could fall for him so easily. ‘Yes, she is.’ She started clearing the breakfast dishes. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him check his watch again. ‘You’d better get going. The kids at the centre will be wondering what’s happened to you.’
Charlie knew it was for the best. Knew she was giving him an out. Which was what he wanted. Wasn’t it? But memories of last night still heated his loins and the experience of cooking with Dana left a lingering sense of possibility. ‘Are you dismissing me, Carrie?’