TinderElla: A Modern Day Single Dad Fairy-Tale (Fairy Tale Series Book 2)

by Eddie Cleveland

  “Don’t stare,” I suddenly feel possessive, like I don’t want him even eye-fucking the woman that just stole the oxygen from my lungs and made my heart beat faster. She’s far from mine. We’re complete strangers. Still, anger begins to bubble inside me at the thought of him looking at her that way.

  “You gotta go introduce yourself, man,” Rogers looks back at me and I shrug.

  “I don’t want to try to hook up, I’m supposed to be showing you around. I mean, you’re leaving in a couple days and…”

  “Nope, stop there,” he holds up his hands, “don’t use me as an excuse to sit in the corner like a wilting flower and miss out on the fun. Go talk to her man, I can see you’re into her and that’s the only reason I’m holding back right now. If you don’t go, I will. I don’t care if I’m leaving in a couple days or not, she’s too pretty to pass on.”

  I cringe when he talks about her like that. There’s no reason in the world for me to feel protective or jealous right now, but him casually talking about picking her up makes me want to casually punch his face.

  “Man, she’s got a banging bod,” he glances back over.

  Irritation steams inside me, but I can’t disagree. “She does,” I check out the curve of her breasts and the flare of her hips.

  “And those lips, man, damn,” he continues.

  My eyes glide over her pink pout and a flurry of images flashes through my brain of kissing them, biting them, watching them wrapped around my cock.

  “And her hair is so long, I just want to wrap my fist in it and watch the rest fall around her face like red curtains while she bends over for me,” his voice is distant, like he’s watching a movie in his own mind.

  “Huh?” Red curtains? I snap back and look at the other girl at the table. Not the bronzed goddess I’ve been fantasizing about, but her pale, redheaded friend. “Oh, her,” I smile, truly relieved. “Yeah, she’s cute man. You should talk to her.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Why would I mind?”

  “Oh, you’re into the other chick,” it finally clicks for him. “Yeah, she’s hot too.”

  “I’m going to buy her a drink,” I decide out loud but realize I have to finish the one and a half drinks I still have sitting before me first. All of sudden, a breath of life fills my aging soul and I feel thirty-two again for the first time in a year. Grabbing a glass in each hand, I pound back the rum and Coke in one and then toss back the other. The second one burns down my throat and I look over at Rogers accusingly.

  “Yeah, that one was a double,” he shrugs sheepishly, but his blue eyes light up like a kid that just pulled off an April Fools’ joke.

  “Okay, whatever, I’m gonna talk to her, you coming?”

  “Yep, I’m right behind you. Oh, and McLean?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t bring her back to your place, alright?”

  “Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you, it’d be awkward,” I answer.

  “No, not because of that,” he laughs, “I mean because I’m gonna be fucking that sweet little ginger all night, so you need to go back to her place.’

  Classy.

  For the briefest of moments, I think about Rogers getting sweaty with some random chick in my house and how I would be wise to wipe my counters down with some Clorox tomorrow before cooking anything. However, the concerns are quickly erased as we approach the table and the woman I’ve been transfixed by looks up at me with a smile.

  “Hey,” I feel my mouth tug up and my body relax as I soak her in.

  “Hi, did you guys want to join us?”

  2|Charlotte

  Act natural. Be calm. Breathe normally and stop staring!

  I can’t help it. I haven’t seen Connor McLean in fourteen years. I’ve literally lived more of my life since he left this town than when he grew up in it. How can I not stare at him, study him, soak him in? His black hair is short and neatly styled, his chiseled jaw is covered in a layer of scruff that he never wore when he was eighteen. It looks good on him though. My eyes travel over his tight, built frame. The military must have been like milk for Connor - ‘cause it did a body good. Am I drooling? I subtly graze my fingertip over the corner of my mouth to be certain as I smile up at him.

  Does he recognize me? Is that fire flickering behind his emerald eyes for me? The girl whose heart he broke so long ago? Or for the woman he thinks he’s never met?

  “We’d love to,” Connor’s deep voice sends a vibration through my flesh, through my muscles and buries in my bones. He sits beside me and his friend takes a seat beside Amy. She gives me a look. An unspoken conversation passes between us in a glance, in a way that can only happen with best friends.

  Is it him?

  It is!

  Get it girl!

  Before the guys came over, I thought I was hallucinating when I looked across the bar and saw Connor sitting there. I mean, in fairness, I’ve seen his face so many times over the years. When I close my eyes at night, when I let myself get lost in a daydream, when I let my fantasies take over and my fingers ease the ache of desire between my thighs.

  I squirm in my seat, that familiar yearning is overwhelming me. Now that Connor isn’t just a fantasy or a memory, but sitting here smiling at me, it’s almost too much.

  Almost.

  “I’m Ryan Rogers,” I hear Connor’s friend introduce himself across the table, but I can’t turn my head. I couldn’t care less who he is. All I can see is him.

  “Amy,” I hear her answer.

  “Thanks for inviting us to sit down,” Connor smiles and my heart flutters erratically. “I didn’t mean to stare at you over there,” he nods his head toward the table he walked over from, “but I couldn’t look away. I’m Connor McLean, you are?” He waits for me to fill in the blank and I realize he has no freaking clue who I am.

  Of course he doesn’t.

  When he left town, I was a gangly thirteen-year-old with short, fuzzy little afro and braces. My arms and legs seemed to be in a competition with each other for what limb could grow the fastest and my ears looked like they were trying to teach Dumbo a thing or two about how to fly.

  I instinctively touch my earlobe, now hidden by long hair and smile, “I’m Lo…” I clear my throat instantly deciding to keep my childhood nickname to myself, “Charlotte.”

  “Charlotte,” his green eyes twinkle and his strong jaw sets.

  Does he know who I am? Does he remember little Lottie, his best friend’s sister, had a big girl name? Does he remember me at all?

  “A beautiful name,” he leans toward me with a smile that makes me feel like I’ve just turned my face into the first warm rays of sunshine that heat the earth in the spring.

  “Thank you,” I feel heat bloom over my cheeks, not to mention between my legs.

  “What are you drinking, Charlotte?” He briefly looks down at my half-empty glass. Or is it half-full?

  “Vodka cranberry,” I lick my lips and realize that I’m suddenly parched. I take a sip of my drink, but nothing in a glass can quench this thirst. It’s my nerves making my tongue feel like a batten of cotton.

  “I’ll get you another,” he doesn’t ask and I don’t mind a bit.

  He stands up and his friend follows suit. I watch as his round, tight ass walks away.

  “Oh my God! It’s really him! Are you going to tell him?” Amy suddenly reappears across the table, closing the canyon of distance that was created by Connor sitting down.

  “No, I don’t want him to see me as the goofy kid with some puppy-love crush,” I lean across the table and hiss at her.

  “So, you’re gonna pretend you don’t know him? Isn’t that going to get weird?” She raises an eyebrow, heavily defined with brow pencil.

  “No, I’m not pretending anything. I’ll tell him, I mean, I think I will. I haven’t worked that out yet. Can you just let me enjoy being seen as a sexy woman by the only guy I’ve ever loved instead of as a little kid?”

  “No, of course, you’re ri
ght. Sorry,” Amy backs down, twisting her red hair around her pale fingers. “You deserve this babe, if I’d been driving myself crazy about a guy for as long as you have and he showed up like that, I’d have already taken him home by now,” her blue eyes sparkle.

  “No doubt,” I laugh and twist my head around to look at him. Connor and his friend are still grabbing our drinks from the bar. I shamelessly let my gaze lick down his neck and over his burly shoulders, down his cut, tattooed arms and over the V of his waist to that perfect butt.

  “Look at you! I’ve never seen you like this, I like it. It’s about time you came out of that shell,” Amy teases me. “Don’t waste tonight, you gotta hop on that stallion and ride!” She giggles.

  “Amy!”

  “Oh, please. Don’t act so shocked. You’re thinking it. And you know what? If Connor fucking McLean disappears from your life again and you didn’t take this opportunity, I’m not going to listen to it.”

  The guys come back to the table with handfuls of drinks and smiles and we both jump in our seats, sitting up straight.

  “Vodka cranberry for you, and a rum and Coke for me,” Connor smirks as he sits back down beside me.

  “Oh, thanks for the Long Island,” Amy purrs from across the table. “Hey, Ryan, I was thinking it’d be nice to enjoy these out on the deck. Wanna join me?” She tilts her head and looks up at with a coy smile.

  “Sounds good to me, you guys coming?” He looks over at us.

  “No, they’re fine in here, right Charlotte?” Amy gives me a pointed look.

  “Yeah, we’re good,” I smile back.

  “Okay, lead the way,” Rogers stands up and Amy grabs her drink before getting on her feet.

  “Text me tomorrow babe,” Amy looks at me and begins to walk away. She takes a few steps and yells back over her shoulder, “Oh and don’t forget, the reins!”

  I shake my head as she disappears from sight with Ryan outside.

  “What was that?” Connor looks at me.

  “What? Oh, nothing. She’s obsessed with the weather,” I cringe at my inability to convincingly lie on the spot.

  “Um, okay,” he shrugs.

  “Anyway, thanks for the drink,” I take a big mouthful of what’s left in my first glass and push it across the table.

  “Not a problem, so, Charlotte, you lived here long?” He reaches out and grasps my hand, weaving his white fingers through my much darker ones and my heart nearly thuds out of my chest.

  “In Bend? Yeah, I was born here,” I lick my lips nervously and look down at my fresh drink.

  “Really? Me too.”

  “I haven’t seen you around,” I’m not technically lying. It has been over a decade since I’ve studied his sexy face. Since I’ve craved his broad hands, the hand holding mine now, to touch me. Since I’ve gotten lost in the world-stopping green of his eyes.

  “I left when I was eighteen,” he fills in the part of the story I already know. “I just retired from the SEALs and thought it was time to come back home.” His eyebrows furrow together as he seems to get lost in his drink. Like he’s watching a scene he doesn’t want to explain play out on the surface of his fizzing drink.

  “Well, I’m glad you came back,” I let my heart do the talking and feel myself relax when he finds his way back to my eyes.

  “Right now, you’re making it pretty easy to see I made the right decision,” his words feel like the little electric shock you get when someone scuffs their feet on the carpet. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I sit a bit taller.

  Amy is right, I’d be a fool to let him go. To let this go. I glance down at my drink. I didn’t plan on coming out here to get drunk, but I didn’t plan on meeting the only man who has made my heart fill like a helium balloon either. I lift my glass and hold it up to Connor, certain he can see my heart pulsing in my neck as I smile up at him, “Here’s to new beginnings and great decisions.”

  He clinks his glass against mine and we both take a big swig. Connor drapes his arm casually over my shoulders and I snuggle into him without thinking. To new beginnings and great decisions. Let’s hope this is the start of both.

  3|Charlotte

  I unlock the front door and we stumble through like a couple of blind elephants.

  “Shhh!” I hold my finger over my lips and giggle, “Keep it down.” People screaming about their houses burning to the ground are probably quieter than my loud whisper right now.

  “Keep what down,” he murmurs, pinning me against the front entrance wall with his hips, “you? Is that what you like? Being held down? Or are you telling me to go down, ‘cause I can’t wait to taste you,” he kisses me and silences my explanation about what I said. In fact, after a couple of seconds of his tongue swirling against mine, like a couple of lovestruck teens dancing on prom night, I forget what I was even trying to tell him.

  He steps back and sways slightly, not like he’s going to pass out, but definitely like the booze has hit him. I couldn’t keep up with him, and it took me the better part of five minutes just to unlock my front door.

  Connor steps back and I grab his hand, leading him as quietly as I can down the hallway to the basement door.

  “Hey, this place looks familiar,” Connor looks around and I practically drag him behind me.

  “Oh yeah?” I try to sound casual, but I’ve never been a great liar. “You know these townhouses. They all look identical. If you’ve been in one, you’ve been in them all,” I clutch the doorknob in my palm and fling the door open, leading him down the stairs to my room.

  “I guess,” he doesn’t sound convinced. Like I said, I’m a shit liar. At least this gives me something to be nervous about besides having my first one-night stand. I mean, obviously, I hope it’s more than that. I’m not saying I expect wedding bells and babies, just that I haven’t entirely ruled out either with Connor.

  “Yeah, they’re all pretty cookie cutter,” I open my bedroom door and stumble inside with him hot on my heels. I shut the door with a click behind him and decide he needs a distraction before this turns into something more; potentially ruining our night. If he knows he’s in the same house his best friend grew up in, if he suddenly realizes who I am, this night is over. Not to mention the babies and the wedding.

  “Did you really want to discuss architecture right now? Or are there better things I could be using my lips for?” I boldly step into him, looking up at him from under my heavy eyelashes and watch his eyes get a little bigger when I rub my hand over the front of his jeans.

  “Mmmm, you make an excellent point,” he puts his hands on my shoulders and walks me slowly backwards across the room to my bed. “I would love to see what else that mouth can do, but on one condition,” his eyes are hazy from the booze but I can still see them twinkle.

  “What’s that?” I practically purr.

  “That I get to show you what my mouth can do at the same time.”

  I take a final step back and my legs hit the edge of my bed. My knees buckle and I find myself sitting on my mattress with Connor’s growing bulge inches from my face.

  He leans over me and quickly tugs my shirt up over my head, I don’t even understand how he gets my bra off so quickly. I don’t think even I’ve gotten it off that fast after a long day when all I want to do is toss it across the room and relax for the night. Connor leans over me and kisses me tenderly, our lips part and we explore each other’s mouths, our tongues feverishly twisting and turning against each other. I’m not entirely sure how I ended up on my back until I look down and see that Connor is making quick work of helping me out of my pants. When I’m stripped down to nothing but my lace panties, he pauses. I watch Connor’s green eyes travel over the fringe of my underwear, like under them is the Christmas present he’s been waiting all year for. He looks almost reverent as he lightly brushes his finger over the baby blue lace.

  “You look like a piece of art, you know that? I can’t decide if I’m supposed to admire you or fuck you,” his fingertips travel o
ver my pussy and I groan.

  “Really?” I really do whisper this time, I never expected Connor to be so sweet and so tender.

  “Of course not. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re fucking spectacular. Men start wars over women like you, but there’s no confusion,” he digs his fingertips in around the hem of my panties and twists them up in his palm. I can feel the fabric stretch tight around my hips and he twists harder. The seams explode over my skin, leaving me completely bare as Connor tosses my ripped panties to the floor. “I’m going to fuck you,” he growls.

  He yanks his own shirt off and I’m distracted by the collage of tattoos etched into his skin. I’m transfixed as he frees himself from his pants, then his underwear, completely drawn in by the symbols and colors. That is, until I see his cock swaying in front of me.

  Holy shit.

  I literally gulp as my eyes travel over his veiny girth. I lick my lips as I study every inch of him, and there are a lot of them, all the way down and back up to the belled curve of his cockhead.

  I’m frozen to the spot. Completely unable to move. Half of me wants to leap across this bed and try to take as much of him into my mouth as I can. The other half is overwhelmed with uncertainty and shyness. It isn’t only the fact that I’ve never had a one-night stand before, I just haven’t had that much sex before either. I’ve done it with all of one guy. And even then, it was a long-term relationship. This is all new to me.

  Why are you fighting what you want? This has been your dream forever. Do you really want to sit here and overanalyze your life right now? Or do you want to make your deepest fantasy come alive?

  Just like my architecture question I asked Connor earlier, it’s a no-brainer.

  I sit on my haunches and wrap my hands around Connor’s thick dick. Both of them. Opening my lips wide, I take the tip of him in my mouth. He groans and rolls his head back. I slide him into my mouth further when he pulls back.

  “Lie down,” he demands.

  “What? I thought you wanted me to…” my fuzzy brain can’t make sense of what he’s asking.