“She’s doing much better.”
“Good. I still feel so bad about that.”
“You should,” Charlie says seriously before laughing. “I don’t blame you entirely.”
“Just a little?”
“Oh, of course.”
The screaming upstairs stops. Carly takes a big drink of wine. “Finally,” she sighs.
“What’s Libby in trouble for?”
“Jack took one of her Barbies and instead of letting me handle it, she yanked it from his hand and pushed him. He hit his head on the dresser, of course.”
“Awww, poor baby.” Charlie picks up Jack. “You just wanted to play dolls, huh, little guy?”
He mutters something and reaches for Charlie’s hair. She and her sister look alike. Charlie is much prettier, but I’d never say that to anyone out loud. Jack has light brown hair and dark blue eyes. He looks like his mother, which in turn makes him resemble Charlie.
She’ll make a good mom someday, and before I can even stop myself, I think of her pregnant with my child. Of us living together, happy, married and in love.
How it should have been.
How it will be.
This is my chance and I’m not going to blow it this time.
“I should go check on her.” Carly drains her wine and goes upstairs. Jack nestles down into Charlie’s arms, head resting on her breasts.
“Kid’s got the right idea,” I say and Charlie glares at me. “I’ll have to steal his spot later.”
“Owen,” she scolds.
“What? Thinking about us is getting you all hot and bothered, isn’t it?”
I expect her to tell me no, to get my mind out of the gutter and grow up. Something like that. I don’t expect her to sink her teeth into her bottom lip and agree with me.
“I want you to kiss me again.” Her voice comes out all breathy.
“I want to kiss you again too.” I scoot my stool closer to hers and run my fingers through her hair. Her eyes fall shut and she lets her head fall in my direction.
Then the back door opens, and her other nephew, Matt, comes running into the house. His face is red and his hair all sweaty from wearing a helmet out in the heat.
“Hey, Aunt Charlie!” he exclaims, startling Jack, who was starting to drift to sleep. “Who are you?” he asks me.
“Hi, I’m Owen. I’ll be your neighbor when you move into your new house.”
He looks at me and then at Charlie. “Are you two having sex?”
Charlie’s mouth falls open. “Matt! Y-you—where did you—no, we’re—how do you know what that is?”
He shrugs. “Jacob’s brother told us about it.”
I let out a snort of laughter. “How old is Jacob’s brother?”
“Fourteen.”
“Kids are starting younger and younger these days.”
“That’s so not the point.” Charlie shakes her head. “You shouldn’t talk like that,” she tells him.
“What’d he say now?” Carly comes back into the kitchen.
“I asked if they’re having sex,” Matt says proudly, and I have to turn away so the kid doesn’t see me laughing. It’ll only encourage him to keep saying it if he knows people find it funny.
“Matthew James Tully. We talked about this. That is not appropriate.”
“Keith says everyone does it.”
“Lord have mercy.” Carly grits her teeth and shakes her head. “Your father is going to deal with this one. Go wash your hands, please.” She waits until he’s out of earshot to talk again. “He doesn’t know what sex is. Justin and I talked to him about it. I thought he’d forgotten about it. I am so sorry.”
“I think it’s hilarious,” I laugh. “Jackson went through a phase where he talked about how babies get put inside a mommy by a daddy.”
“I’m sure you had nothing to do with that.” Charlie raises an eyebrow.
“That was all on Dean, actually. Even I know better than to open that can of worms.”
“The last thing I need is him asking people at school this fall if they’re having sex.”
Charlie laughs. “It is kind of funny.”
“It kind of is. Like when Libby said penis all the time when she was three. But it’s embarrassing if it’s said to the wrong people.”
“We’re not the wrong people,” I assure her. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“Thanks. And I do wonder…” She looks at her sister and raises her eyebrows. Charlie swats her away and Jack climbs out of her arms, wanting his mom to hold him. Mrs. Williams comes into the house a moment later.
“Owen!” I get up and hold out my hand, but she pulls me into a hug instead. “How have you been, dear?”
“Good. Busy with work, but life’s been good.”
“Hopefully it’s only getting better,” Carly mumbles and Charlie elbows her again.
“Dad is bringing home steaks to cook on the grill,” Mrs. Williams tells us. “He should be here any minute.”
“Need any help with dinner?” Charlie asks and her mother shakes her head.
“I got everything else prepared already. Libby was a good helper with the pasta salad.”
“I’m going to try to get this one down for a quick nap before dinner,” Carly tells us and takes Jack into the living room.
“Is Justin working late tonight?” Charlie asks. I think Justin is Carly’s husband. Charlie and I had already broken up by the time her sister got married. I don’t even remember her dating anyone named Justin.
“Yes, he’s been working all the overtime he can get lately.”
“I can’t blame him,” Charlie says and looks at me with a wink. The house is chaotic and crazy. I might work extra to avoid it too. I went from living at home, living on campus, to living with Logan. I wonder how it would be to live with my in-laws.
Mrs. Williams pours herself a glass of wine and we move into the sunroom at the back of the house. The dogs follow but have settled down by this time and lie down on the cool tile floor. Charlie sits next to me on the loveseat, and I put my arm around her out of habit. She doesn’t move away or flinch this time. Does it feel like habit to her too?
It’s weird, how it feels both new and old.
When Mr. Williams comes home, I go out on the back porch with him, talking as he grills the steaks. I always liked him, and he reminds me of my own father in some ways. We talk about work and business and he doesn’t bring up how I broke Charlie’s heart all those years ago.
We were kids then. I’ve changed. She’s changed. We’ve changed.
* * *
“That was nice.” Charlie pulls the seatbelt over her lap and clicks it in place.
“It was.” I start the engine. “Did you drink enough wine to get all frisky again?”
She laughs. “You know I don’t need wine to make me frisky.”
“Mmm, that sounds promising.”
Shaking her head, she rolls down the window. The sun is just now starting to set. We stayed at her parents’ later than planned. After dinner, we all sat around talking. I can tell Charlie’s missed being around her family after being away in New York for years. And I really have always liked the Williams.
“It’s such a nice night.” She sticks her arm out the window. “That breeze feels so good. Would you think it was lame if I asked if we could go on a walk after we get back to your place?”
“Not lame at all.”
“Great.” She smiles and brings her other hand across the center console and rests it on my thigh. I flick my eyes down, watching her long fingers spread out. I imagine them wrapped around my cock. I need to stop before I get a hard-on right here in the car. “I’ll change my shoes first. These were expensive as fuck but not comfortable at all.”
“Quinn likes all that designer stuff too. I don’t get it.”
“I don’t really either,” she admits. “I do like some of it, like the bags and the belts, and think they really are of good quality, but some of the other stuff is just ridicul
ous. There was an unwritten dress code at my old firm, though, and I’m ashamed to say that I wanted to fit in.”
“I don’t think there’s any shame in wanting to fit in.”
“Really? You’ve always done your own thing and not cared about what others think.”
“Well, I’m awesome and the exception to the rule.”
She laughs and runs her hand up my thigh, fingers inching toward the inseam of my jeans. “I wouldn’t really say I’m a follower or anything, but I really did want to be in with my co-workers. I tried hard for the first year and then realized it was stupid. I wore the same clothes, carried the same bags, and went to the same overpriced salon, and still felt like an outsider.”
“Why was that?”
“Because I was an outsider. It took me a year and thousands of wasted dollars before I admitted it to myself. You said it yourself. I’m not a big city person. I like the excitement of the job, but not the lifestyle or the pressure to look a certain way. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s important to show up looking put together, clean, and professional, but does wearing a five-thousand-dollar suit make me any better than the lawyer in the eight-hundred-dollar suit?”
“Even eight hundred bucks is way too much for a suit.”
She laughs. “It is.” Taking her hand off my thigh, she turns on the radio. It’s synced to my phone, and she flips through my playlist until “Defying Gravity” comes on.
“Maybe I should take this secret to my grave,” I start. “But I still know the words to this song.”
“You do?”
“Remember that weekend trip we took to Tennessee? You listened to this on repeat the entire time.”
“Oh yeah,” she laughs. “Why did you let me?”
I shrug. “If I knew I was getting some, I was willing to do just about anything back then. We were, what, nineteen?”
“Yeah. It was so hard to get my parents to let me go down there with you. They didn’t think it was appropriate for me to be with you overnight.”
“How’d you convince them to let you come?”
“I pretty much admitted that we were already sleeping together at that point and it didn’t matter if we were alone over the weekend or just an hour.”
“Solid logic, actually.”
“Right? I never got why they cared so much about me being with you at night. And we’d gone through a whole year of college together.”
“We did have a lot of sex then.”
“We certainly did.” Her hand lands on my thigh again.
“We can have lots of sex again.”
“We can,” she says in a level tone. She’s not saying we’re going to go home and get started on that right away but is more stating it as a possibility. I grip the steering wheel and resist moving my legs so her fingers inch closer to my cock. Though if she actually does start jacking me off while I’m driving, there’s a good chance I’ll crash.
She keeps her hand on my thigh the rest of the ride home. We go in and she goes upstairs, carrying a bag of clothes she brought back with her from her parents’ house. I almost told her to bring all her stuff over, but I didn’t want to freak her out and make her think things were moving too soon.
She still intends to move into her own place next month. And she should, right? But she could also stay here with me. Starting a relationship over when there’s already so much history between us is tricky.
We’re not a new couple. We still get each other, even after all these years. Yet those years did happen and rushing back to where we were before just isn’t possible. Still, she’s in a unique situation and needs a place to live.
And I have that place.
I’m overthinking, which isn’t something I usually do. I’m a shoot first, aim later kind of person, and while some may say that’s reckless, it’s always steered me in the right direction.
And right now, I feel like having Charlie move in with me is admittedly a little impulsive, but will put us right where we’re meant to be: together.
Chapter 30
Charlie
Owen isn’t in the kitchen anymore when I come back down the stairs. The house is dark, with the exception of a soft glow coming from the screened-in porch. A single candle is lit and sitting on the table out there, and Owen’s back is to me as he looks at the fountain in the pond behind his house. There’s a light in it, making the simple fountain look much fancier at night than it actually is.
Silently, I slip into the room. The candle is one of those meant to repel mosquitos, and the smell reminds me of summer nights spent on the front porch, both with Owen and my other friends. Life was simpler then, and while I can’t get rid of my adult responsibilities, things don’t have to be complicated.
Owen turns right when I get up behind him, and firelight flickers in his eyes. He takes me in his arms, and my heart skips a beat. I hook my arms around his neck and step in close. Being in his embrace feels so right.
It’s like I never left.
He tips his head down, lips brushing against mine. Heat floods through me, and my eyes fall shut. The rushing of the fountain sounds behind us, and though I know there are other houses nearby, it feels like Owen and I are the only two people left in the world.
And I’m okay with that.
I bring my head up and push my lips against his. That’s all it takes for the spark to ignite into a wildfire, and suddenly, desperate desire takes over me. Owen’s arms tighten around me, crushing me against his chest.
I need to be closer. I need to feel him, all of him.
He slides one hand up my back, grips the base of my neck, and then plunges his hand into my hair. Holding my head like this while he kisses me is intimate and makes me want him even more. His other hand moves down to the small of my back, and he pushes my waist against his.
His cock is just starting to get hard and feeling that monster-sized dick come to life turns me on more than anything else. Knowing that I’m the one getting him off, that I’m the one his cock is hard for…fuck. It drives me absolutely crazy.
Taking his lips from mine, he moves them to my neck and bites and sucks at my skin. I grip his shoulders, needing to hold onto him for support or else I fear I’ll melt into a puddle at his feet.
“Charlie,” he pants, breaking away so he can look at me. Cupping my face with his hands, he kisses me once more. “Are you sure you want—”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“That’s enough of a yes for me.” We tangle together again, kissing each other like our lives depend on it. I’m getting so hot and so wet, and when Owen pulls me to him, I feel that hard cock in all its glory.
Moaning, I arch my back, rubbing myself against him. My pussy contracts just thinking about having that thing enter me. Filling every inch. Fucking me into oblivion until I’m screaming and seeing stars.
Owen takes another fistful of my hair and pulls my head to the side, exposing my neck. He puts his mouth on it and sucks at my flesh, teeth nipping my skin at the same time. I put one hand on his chest and slowly move it down, breath hitching when I get to the button on his jeans.
Owen stops kissing me and looks down, watching me undo his pants. I lick my lips, eyes wide and heart racing. I pop the button on his jeans and pull down the zipper. Looking up at Owen’s face, I watch his eyes fall closed as I run my hand over his cock.
Holy fuck, it’s even thicker than I remember. The tip sticks out over the top of his boxers, beading with pre-cum that gleams in the candlelight. My lips part and hunger for that big dick to take me over. I drop to my knees, mouth watering, and pull down his pants.
I haven’t wanted to give a blow job since I don’t know when. But right now, I want to taste him, to take him in my mouth, and bring him as much pleasure as I can. Letting out a small moan, Owen parts his legs and rests his hand on my head as I pull his pants and boxers down.
Pushing my hair over my shoulder, I lick my lips and open my mouth. His cock slides in past my lips, and I flick my tongue over the tip.
Owen groans and pulls my hair. I take him in as far as I can and then slowly pull my head back, sucking hard. Cupping his balls with one hand, I wrap my other around the base of his cock. Alternating between sucking him hard and fast and then slow as I lick and suck the tip of his cock, I rub my thighs together, so fucking hot right now.
“Fuck,” Owen pants. His balls tighten in my hand, but he stops himself before he comes. He moves back and reaches down, picking me up. Breathing heavily, he steps out of his pants and boxers. Before I even know what’s happening, he picks me up and lays me down on the ground. He moves on top of me, kissing my neck as he reaches down, plunging his hand under the waistband of my leggings.
“Are you wet, Charlie?” he growls. “When my fingers touch your pussy, will I find it wet for me?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “I’m so wet for you, Owen.”
“This is what you want.”
He’s talking dirty, still being demanding, but double-checking my consent too. He cares so fucking much, and my heart swells in my chest. “It is.” I squirm underneath him, clit begging to be touched. “I want it, and I need it. Touch me, Owen. Please.”
With his hand under my leggings but still over my panties, he sweeps his fingers over my core. I swear I could come right now if he does it again.
“You are wet. I can feel it already.” He moves to his side, slipping his other arm underneath me. His cock is against my thigh, and my pussy quivers. It’s not fair that he’s able to hold me here in this state of desperation.
“Make me wetter,” I groan. “Make me come.”
“With pleasure.” He gently rubs me through my panties and my eyes roll back and I moan. He brings his hand back only to slip his long fingers under my panties. “Goddamn,” he mutters when he takes in just how wet I am. If it was anyone but Owen, I might be embarrassed. He circles my entrance, teasing. I close my eyes and bend one leg up. He finds my clit right away, and slowly strokes it, rubbing me with the perfect amount of pressure and speed.
I’m so revved up already, it’s not going to take long for me to come. And Owen was always good with his fingers. He understands the less is more concept when it comes to sex, which is a rare find in a guy.
Fight Dirty: A Dawson Family Novel Page 19