More than Lovers

by Jess Dee

  But she’d put the unexpected sense of hurt and rejection down to premenstrual tension and wild hormones. Charlie hadn’t been acting out of character by sending her home, he’d been acting out of character by spending nights with her.

  But this pain now had nothing to do with wild hormones. She wasn’t premenstrual anymore. And that just added to her internal confusion. What was going on with her, and what was going on with Charlie?

  Everything had changed since they’d made that bet: their relationship, the way they interacted, the intensity of the sex, everything.

  Now she just wished she’d never followed through on it. She wished nothing had ever changed. But still she couldn’t seem to find the courage to broach the subject with him. Not while Charlie sat there, harping on about her marrying another man.

  “Listen, Char. You were right. I get it now. Not all men think I’m a boring fuddy-duddy. Both Myles and Henry were more interested in me than I expected.”

  Something snapped in Charlie’s eyes, and his gaze bore into her. “Did something happen with them?”

  Sarah bit her lip. “Myles phoned a couple of days ago. Asked to see me again.”

  “And?”

  “And I said no. I told you, he wasn’t for me.”

  Charlie gave a short nod. “And Henry?”

  “Henry also asked to see me again. I said yes.” Damn, how could she have read that invitation so wrong?

  Charlie looked surprised. “You went out with him a second time?”

  Was it her imagination, or did his shoulders stiffen?

  “Today. We met for lunch. And apparently you called it right—he found me both interesting and attractive. He, uh, tried to kiss me as we left.”

  Not her imagination. His shoulders were rigid. “What the fuck? I thought you said you only liked him as a friend.”

  “I did.” And she’d assumed she’d made as much clear to Henry too. Obviously she hadn’t. “A kiss was the last thing I expected. And let me tell you, it was damn awkward trying to talk my way out of it.” She cringed just thinking about it.

  “So you didn’t kiss him?” Charlie’s expression was fierce.

  “No. I definitely didn’t. And he wasn’t too happy when I explained I was only interested in friendship.”

  Charlie froze. “What do you mean he wasn’t too happy?” How he managed to sound both protective and jealous at the same time, yet still keep her at arm’s length Sarah had no idea.

  “I mean just that. He wasn’t happy, that’s all, and he said as much. Said he thought there’d been vibes between us. He was…” Sarah’s words died. “Geez, Char. Relax. You look as though you want to punch the poor guy.” And didn’t that just give her warm fuzzies right down in the center of her belly.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I want to punch him?”

  Why indeed? She let it go. “Anyway, I guess Henry and I won’t be friends after all.”

  Charlie’s shoulders sagged. “I guess you won’t.”

  “This is why I want to call off the bet. I don’t like being in this position. Don’t like having to reject men. It feels almost as bad as being rejected.” Yep, that was true. But it wasn’t the primary reason she wished to call off the bet. The primary reason sat opposite her, frowning. How could she be interested in dating other men, when all she really wanted was Charlie?

  “I’m sorry, Sarah. I never made this bet so you’d feel bad. I made it because I want you to understand how damn awesome you are.”

  She blinked. He called her Sarah? Charlie never called her Sarah. She was Sar or beautiful or Geek Girl. Not Sarah.

  Okay, that was it. She’d had enough of this new Charlie. Didn’t like the distance he’d shoved between them. Not one little bit. It was time to shorten it. Dramatically. Time to speak her mind, demand to know what was going on with him, why he treated her this way.

  Only the words froze in her mouth and refused to come out.

  Repressing a scream of frustration, Sarah had to think fast.

  If speech wasn’t her strong point right now, perhaps she could express herself in another way? Perhaps she needed to communicate with Charlie on a level he’d understand, a level he’d respond to.

  “You think I’m awesome?” Sarah asked as she stood up gracefully.

  Charlie looked at the wall. “As if you need to ask.”

  Now he couldn’t even look at her? “Apparently I do.” In one smooth sweep, she lifted her T-shirt over her shoulders, tugged it off and dropped it on the floor.

  “I do, Sar. I always have.” His voice was hoarse, but still he refused to look at her.

  It cut her deep. “Then why don’t you prove that to me right now?”

  Finally his gaze swung back to her and caught on her bare chest.

  Tonight she hadn’t bothered with the purple bra. She hadn’t bothered with any bra, and damn, was she grateful for that. After a week of not seeing him, she wanted Charlie’s hands on her, and the less clothing she had on impeding that goal, the better.

  Charlie’s reaction was immediate.

  Lust glazed his eyes and he collapsed back against the couch, his pupils dilating.

  She walked over to him, her stomach quivering—both from nerves and from need. “It’s been a while, Surfer Dude. I’m beginning to forget what your cock tastes like.”

  Charlie made a noise like a strangled groan.

  Sarah sank to her knees before him, pushing his legs apart so she could kneel between them. She nuzzled her face against his groin and forgot to breathe as he hardened beneath her cheek.

  “Sarah…don’t. Please.”

  His words shocked her, made her lungs seize.

  Charlie, asking her to stop?

  God, who was this man, this stranger, breaking her heart, ripping it from her chest?

  She almost listened. Almost saved what little pride she had left and raced from his unit. But his words were so at odds with his body’s response, she couldn’t force herself to heed them. His cock was now rock hard, his chest heaving unevenly, and he’d dug his fingers into the leather on either side of his legs.

  “I need to lick your balls, Char. Need to remember how you taste.” She yanked at the Velcro strip fastening his boardies, loosening the shorts and exposing him to her hungry mouth. Not fully exposing him though, just enough that she could twirl her tongue hungrily around his cockhead.

  “Fuck.” His knuckles turned white.

  He fought her? Fought this? Why?

  She sucked his tip between her lips, licked it as she suctioned.

  “Not…right,” Charlie insisted. “Shouldn’t…shouldn’t do this.”

  If he truly believed that, he wouldn’t have lifted his ass off the couch as she tugged on the waistband of his boardies. Wouldn’t have let her push the shorts down his legs, leaving him nude from the waist down. And he wouldn’t have let his legs slide open, allowing her searching tongue and lips to find his balls. To kiss them, lick them and suck them into her mouth.

  Still his physical reaction didn’t stop the pain that etched its way further into her chest from his words. Didn’t stop her eyes from tearing up, making her blink furiously to clear them.

  She teased his scrotum for a while, until the lump in her throat had receded. The position was awkward though, with her nose squashed against his erection and her chin squished on the couch. It would be easier to focus on his shaft. To swallow him down whole, to take as much of him inside her as possible, in what she knew had to be a physical symbol of what she really wanted. Charlie, in her life, permanently.

  He filled her mouth. She had to force her throat muscles to relax so she could take him deeper.

  “Sarah. God.” His fingers sank into her hair. “My sweet, beautiful Sarah.”

  His words eased the pressure in her chest. Reassured her as nothing else had this past week. She relaxed her mouth, relaxed her cheeks, fell into the familiar tempo of sucking his dick.

  “Fuck,” he rasped. “You tie me up in knots.”<
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  Needing to connect with him somehow, to feel him on something more than a physical level, she looked up at his face and faltered at the emotion she saw in his eyes.

  He stared down at her with such reverence, such adoration, her heart tripped and then soared.

  There. That. It was all she needed. All she wanted. His expression filled the part of her soul that had hollowed in his absence.

  She said nothing. Couldn’t. Her mouth was full, which was just as well, since the lump in her throat would have made speech impossible. So she spoke without words, pouring every ounce of feeling into making love to him. Sweet and tender, then fast and filthy, then slow and deep before back to sweet and tender.

  Her belly ached with the need to feel him inside. Her pussy clenched at air, hungry for him. Her heart thumped eagerly. No matter how much she may struggle to connect with Charlie on an emotional level, physically their need always matched perfectly, and tonight was no different.

  “Shouldn’t do this, Sar. Shouldn’t let you touch me. You’re his now. Sam’s.”

  Sam shmam. She’d never met the guy, wasn’t interested in meeting him. And yet, even with his cock buried in her mouth and his emotions shining in his eyes, Charlie still insisted she meet another man.

  She couldn’t help but hear the ring of pain in his voice, as though telling her she belonged to Sam hurt him somewhere deep inside.

  What did it mean?

  If he’d confused her before she’d walked into his place, now she was totally bewildered.

  Sarah licked him from root to tip, never taking her gaze off his eyes, not wanting to ever stop seeing what she now saw in them. They burned with molten fire, desire flaming through their depths.

  She couldn’t take the heat, couldn’t bear the physical emptiness inside her. Sarah searched the pocket in her skirt for the condom she’d put there earlier, fished it out and tore the package open. Then she found his scrotum again and proceeded to lick every accessible inch of it as she rolled the condom over his cock.

  And that was the last thing she did to him. The second he was sheathed, Charlie lost it. He had her on her back on the floor in seconds. Her sexy surfer dude paused just long enough to shove her skirt over her hips and bend her knees to her waist, and then he was inside, pounding into her, perspiration dotting his forehead.

  The wooden floor yielded not a bit beneath her back, and Sarah knew there’d be bruises there tomorrow. She didn’t care.

  He took her like a crazed man, driving into her deeper than ever before, pushing her harder, further, faster. Gone was the tender adoration of moments ago. Now his eyes glowed feverishly, and he muttered incoherently.

  The words Sam and mine and marry filtered through his mad ramblings.

  Sarah had no idea what he meant, no idea what he said. All she knew was Sam had no place in her life. No place in her heart. It was full to the brim, overflowing—with Charlie.

  And the harder he drove into her, the more it filled. Oh, yeah. The bet was over. She no longer cared who won or who lost. All that mattered was her and Charlie and the off-the-charts sex that never ceased to blow her mind. The beautiful, tender nights they’d spent sleeping in each other’s arms.

  Charlie grabbed her ankles, placed them on his shoulders—opening her up even wider—and without releasing them, pounded into her harder still. She’d never seen him like this, so out of control, so lost to his physical need. Conversation was beyond him, words meaningless.

  It thrilled her. She was the one who’d pushed him to this state, who’d sent him over the edge. She’d made him respond on base instinct.

  It delighted her to the point of no return. As he grit his teeth together and plunged deeper, Sarah’s orgasm approached. There was no holding it back, no putting it off. Charlie had complete control of her body, of her pleasure, complete control over the tempo and the rhythm, and his rhythm struck something inside, a flame she couldn’t extinguish, didn’t try.

  She just let it steamroll over her. Let the wave of ecstasy take her.

  Sarah came, hard, her senses lost to the rush of extreme pleasure.

  Charlie growled as she broke, as her inner muscles clasped at him, grabbed at his cock, tried to hold him inside her. He clenched his jaw together, gritting his teeth and lost not a beat of his tempo, pounding into her as she convulsed around him.

  And then Charlie groaned and slammed into her one more time before succumbing to an almost violent release. His cock pulsed inside her as he climaxed, pulsed as he shuddered over and over, calling her name. His orgasm increased her pleasure, spun it out endlessly, until exhausted and spent, she collapsed back on the floor, gladly welcoming Charlie’s weight as he collapsed atop her.

  She closed her eyes, shivering in the aftermath, still overwhelmed by the adoration in his gaze. And finally the words she’d really wanted to say to Charlie were there.

  “Don’t need Henry,” she whispered breathlessly as she clung to him. “Don’t need Myles or some doctor, either.” She kissed his neck. “The only person I need, the only one I want, is you, Char.”

  Chapter Six

  As it turned out, Sarah did go out with Sam. Two nights later.

  Perhaps her acceptance of his invitation had something to do with his well-timed phone call as she’d walked back into her flat. Or perhaps it had come about as a result of her turbulent thoughts and emotions when the phone rang. But most likely she’d accepted because of the speed and vehemence with which Charlie had jumped off her, denying fervently he was the one she needed.

  Whatever had caused her to say yes to Sam, Sarah found herself sitting in a restaurant across the road from Bronte beach, doing her best to stomach the pasta she’d ordered. She’d had no appetite since her and Charlie’s last fateful discussion.

  She hadn’t even bothered to suggest coffee to Sam. She’d just accepted his invitation to dinner. A few hours spent with a man she’d never met could not be more excruciating than sitting in her flat alone, her heart shattering a million times over.

  Charlie didn’t need her. Not even a bit. He didn’t want her either. The only thing he wanted was Sarah married off to someone else.

  Which probably explained why he’d made the bet in the first place. It was his way of getting Sarah out of his life. If he found someone she liked, he wouldn’t have to officially call an end to their booty calls. All booty calls stopped when one or the other of them was involved with someone else.

  If Sarah fell for Sam, she wouldn’t be knocking on Charlie’s door.

  Mission accomplished. Charlie: 1, Sarah: 0.

  Her stomach churned all over again.

  The irony of it all was that Charlie had been right about Sam. He was pretty wonderful. Sexy, handsome, sweet, kind, funny and interesting. He loved his work and spoke passionately about his patients.

  And yes, he was marriage material through and through. The kind of guy a woman could proudly take home to meet her parents. The kind of guy parents would dote on. He was someone any woman would be proud to have on her arm.

  Sam was everything Sarah had ever looked for in a man—and had she met him a month ago, before Sebastian, before Charlie’s cuddles and snuggles, she suspected she would have been the happiest woman on the planet.

  But she hadn’t met him a month ago. She’d met him after spending three tumultuous weeks with her neighbor. Which meant Sam didn’t stand a chance. End of story.

  Because as sexy, handsome, sweet, kind, funny and interesting as he was, he just wasn’t Charlie. He didn’t make her heart thump or her breath catch. He didn’t make her breasts tighten or her pussy clench.

  Sarah had no desire to rip off his pants and lick his balls—or his dick for that matter. And regardless of how devastated she was by Charlie’s rejection, she still desperately wanted to rip off her surfer dude’s boardies. Wanted to spend hours exploring him…with her tongue. Wanted to spend hours being explored…by his tongue. And she wanted to spend hours—years—snuggling up to him once all tongue—a
nd other physical explorations—had been exhausted.

  But Charlie had firmly put an end to all future exploration and snuggling of any kind. Their booty calls were officially, and quite devastatingly, over.

  “Sarah?”

  She forced her attention back to her date.

  “Are you having a terrible time?”

  “God, no. Not at all.” She wasn’t. Not with Sam. The terrible time was all compliments of Charlie.

  “Then would you mind me asking why you look as if your world is coming to an end?”

  Of course she minded. She hardly knew him. How could he ask about something this personal? Yet his question was so filled with concern and his voice so gentle, instead of taking offense, Sarah burst into tears.

  Horrified by her response and mortified by her lack of control, she just sat at the table, staring at Sam with wide eyes, while streams of tears tracked down her cheeks.

  “M-maybe b-because I feel as though my world has come to end.”

  And dear God, wasn’t that just the truth?

  Ever since Charlie had rejected her outright, she’d felt as though the future she’d once seen as sparkly, rosy and exciting now just lay drab ahead of her. Sarah loved going to work, loved the challenge of her research, loved teaching her students. Loved making new discoveries or disproving theories. She bounced out of bed each morning eager to start her day.

  Yet these last two mornings just opening her eyes had been an effort. Getting out of bed had tested every muscle in her body. They howled in protest as though she’d run a marathon the day before.

  And that didn’t begin to touch on the emptiness in her chest and the ache in her heart, or the constant need to fight tears—or just give in to them.

  When Sebastian had told her he was in love with another woman, Sarah had been disappointed.

  When Charlie told her he was not the man for her, she’d been gutted. Her heart stripped bare.

  Sam wrapped his two large hands around hers, holding them tenderly, carefully. “Want to tell me about it?”

  They were strong hands. Trustworthy hands. The kind of hands any patient would feel confident in.