by Brandy Ayers
“Oh, sweet, shy Charlotte, you have a dirty side, don’t you? Humping your bed to the sound of my voice. Is that how you want me to take you? Gripping your hips and fucking you from behind, so I can watch that tight ass shake?”
“I want you on top of me. Your thick cock inside me, and your heavy body pressing me into the soft bed.” She didn’t know where the words came from, or how she had the courage to say them. Charlotte didn’t talk about what she needed, never had. But the rush of hormones and unabashed way Trey spoke to her seemed to free something in her soul.
“Fuck, Charlotte, I’m going to come all over my stomach just with that image.” For a moment, they both forgot to talk, both lost in their own pleasure. Charlotte loved the deep rumbling sounds he made, wanted them filling her room. “Do you know how sexy you sound right now, Charlotte?”
Unable to form a word, Charlotte bite her lip and pushed out a weak, “Uh uh.”
“Oh, honey, those pained little whimpers you’re giving me make me feel like a lion, ready to pounce and take a taste of the sweetest little pussy. I want to make you come so hard, you never even think of another man.” Trey practically roared, apparently even the thought of her with someone else not to his liking. “I need to hear you come, Charlotte. Let me hear you scream, so I can splash my cum all over my stomach.”
Charlotte buried her face into the pillow, letting out a pained scream. She needed to come like she’d never needed anything in her life. That need blocked out everything else. Her nerves, her panic, the insanity of her day, it all faded away to nothing in the presence of this overwhelming desire.
“Don’t do that, Charlotte. You don't muffle your sounds with me. I want to hear them loud and clear.”
Charlotte shifted her face away from the pillow, pressing the phone more tightly against her cheek so he'd hear every single sound. Her fingers flew over her pussy, circling and pressing on her clit until every muscle in her body tensed with the anticipation of the release to come. “Please, Trey, oh God.”
“Come for me, Charlotte. Let me hear it. Don’t hold back.”
Obeying his command, Charlotte let go, pushed two of her fingers as deep into her pussy as she could get, and rocked her swollen clit against her forearm. Her mouth gaped open, silent for a split second before everything exploded. Colored fireworks sparked behind her screwed shut eyelids. Her hips pumped up and down at random. Her channel pulsed around her fingers. More of her arousal poured out around the already slick digits.
She screamed and cried in a way she never had before, loud and free, not caring who heard her, knowing Trey did, and he wanted her to be loud. She didn’t even attempt to hold anything back. Her toes pointed, legs tensed, and she rode her hand like it was the man she heard groaning on the other side of the phone.
As her own orgasm began to fade away, she listened closely as Trey found his peak. He cursed and grunted, and the slap slap slap from earlier took on a wetter sound. Gently, she petted herself, picturing his big hard body reclined and yet tense with his pleasure.
“Good girl. You hear what your orgasm did to me? Fuck, I’ve made a mess over here.” Trey laughed, which made Charlotte smile and bury her face into the pillow again.
“I can’t believe I just did that.” Part of her felt like she should definitely be ashamed of what they just did. But really, she was too tired and too soaked in endorphins to give a damn.
“Listen to me, Charlotte. That was the sexiest thing I’ve done in a long, long time. But the next time I make you come, my fingers and mouth are going to be involved. So, you decide when our date is going to be, and I’ll be there ready and willing.” Despite the heavy breathing on his end, his words were said with a conviction that Charlotte instinctively knew not to question. Apparently, when Trey decided he wanted something, he went after it. And at the moment, she was that something. “Now, get some sleep, and I’ll see you soon.”
Charlotte said goodbye, smiling like a loon the whole time. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so amazing. She knew it was the rush of hormones, and worried a little bit about how she would react when reality came rushing back in. But for now, she decided to soak it in as much as she could.
Chapter Ten
“Hello?” Reluctantly, Charlotte pressed the phone against her ear, a flash from the night before making her blush all the way to her toes. Opening her eyes, confusion swept through her for a moment because of the sunlight streaming in through the window beside her bed. Looking over her shoulder at the clock, it dawned on her that she slept for nearly twelve hours straight and it was six in the morning. When she would normally be wrapping up her shift.
“Are you sick? Why are you just waking up?” Her mother’s brisk accented voice made her sit up straight in the bed.
“My boss gave me the night off last night.” Feeling at once more rested than she had in years, and yet completely groggy from the change in her routine, Charlotte rolled out of bed and headed toward the kitchen.
“You in trouble at work? Is that why she didn’t let you come in last night.”
“No, Mama.” Charlotte rolled her eyes, something she would never do if her mother were there in front of her, but she took much enjoyment in over the phone. “The opposite actually. I pulled a twenty-four hour shift yesterday, and broke a major story, so she gave me the night off as a reward.”
“Hmprf.” Unable to tell if the reply from her mother was a simple acknowledgement of her words, or disbelief that Charlotte would be rewarded for anything, she decided to go with the more likely of the two scenarios and assume her mother wasn’t impressed.
“Actually, my boss offered me a promotion.” Normally she wouldn’t dare tell her mother something like this without having something solid to tell her. Possibilities meant nothing to her mother. Only achievements.
“Really? So, you will no longer be a glorified secretary?”
“I am not a glorified secretary, Mom. I’m the evening assignment editor. But my new title would be assignment manager, and I’d work day hours. I’d also get a raise.” The moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could suck them back in. Talking back to her mother was a wholly new experience, and she didn’t know what exactly had gotten into her. But she did know that this news would not impress the woman.
At this point in her life, Charlotte knew that little to nothing could achieve that. She’d forever be a disappointment because she didn’t have the desire to be a ballerina, nor did she have the desire to show her face on camera, or do any of the other high profile careers her mother thought would be worthwhile.
“Hmph. Assignment manager. So, you manage all the glorified secretaries. I suppose that is better than nothing.” And that was as close to a compliment as her mother would ever give her. “At least if you work normal hours, you can find a man to settle down with now. Give me those grandbabies I want.”
Honestly, Charlotte didn’t know why her mother focused so much on getting grandbabies. She hadn’t been a warm mother. She couldn’t picture the selfish woman who raised her cooing over cute babies, spoiling her grandchildren, or baking cookies with them. But ever since Charlotte had graduated college as a single woman, her mother had been berating her for not finding a man while she was still young and able to have children. Obviously at the ripe old age of twenty-four, Charlotte’s eggs were on a rapid decline.
Wanting to end their conversation on as high a note as possible, Charlotte made her excuses and hung up as soon as she could. But no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t rid herself of the dark cloud that slid in with her mother’s call. Not even remembering the hot phone call from Trey the night before did any good. Charlotte was officially in a funk.
Curling up on the couch, she turned her phone silent, wrapped the huge knit blanket she’d made the year before around her shoulders, and pulled out her Kindle, ready to disappear into someone else’s life. Hours later, she emerged, the veil of her imaginary worlds slipping away to reveal her sad one-bedroom apartment, a
nd the reassuring weight of Weasley curled up in her lap.
Glancing out her window, she saw that the sun had set and night surrounded her. The internal clock she relied on had been all messed up from the change in schedule. She reached for the phone to check the time, and surprise zipped through her when she saw five missed calls and seven text messages waiting. She was pretty sure she’d never had that many missed calls in her life.
Three of the calls were from Bekah, one from Mira, and one from Trey. Heat bloomed in her chest, spreading out to pool between her thighs and just below her skin. Just seeing his name on her missed calls had her panties wet and her clit throbbing. Flipping over to her text messages, she had to laugh.
Bekah: Change of plans. Friday night, girls’ night, you, me and Mira. Be at my place by eight p.m., or else.
The next text was Bekah’s address. Then two more warnings from Bekah that if Charlotte didn’t show up there would be serious consequences. One text from Mira essentially had the same idea, but without the threats of bodily harm. Knowing the women wanted her to hang out with them, talk with them, made Charlotte’s pulse race, and her stomach tighten. She wanted to be friends with them, desperately wanted that. She loved Kym, but they really only hung out at the tattoo shop since Kym still had issues with leaving her safe zone.
But like always, fear sat heavy on her chest. What if she had nothing to talk about? What if they thought she was boring? What if the rest of the time they worked together the two women had to pretend to like Charlotte?
Shaking off the thoughts, she decided to put the decision of whether or not to go to girls’ night aside. The last texts were from Trey, and made her blood pressure soar once again.
Trey: Hey sugar, couldn’t stop thinking about you last night. When can I see you? Need to touch you. Make sure you’re real.
Forget butterflies. An entire flock of birds took flight in her stomach, nerves, arousal, and hope mixed together to form a strange nauseated sensation. That old familiar panic began to rise in her chest as she thought about meeting him in person for the first time. She desperately wanted that to happen, but at the same time dreaded it. There were so many unknown factors that could make everything fall apart.
Charlotte: I don’t know. I’m being forced into a girls’ night tonight. Then tomorrow, I’m supposed to be getting more work on my tattoo.
Charlotte stood from her couch, heading toward the kitchen to make lunch. Weasley, the little scavenger he was, followed behind her, begging for any scrap of food she’d be willing to give him.
“Oh, my handsome man is hungry?” She scratched beneath his chin, and his grumbly hangry meow greeted here. “Okay, how about some bacon and eggs?”
It was her firm belief that breakfast could be subbed in for literally any meal, and was the only thing she could cook well. She grabbed the eggs and bacon from the fridge and set to fry them both up, making an equal portion for her cat. Just as the bacon began to sizzle, her phone beeped with an incoming message.
Trey: You have tattoos? Jesus that is hot. What if I come with you? I can hold your hand, find fun ways to distract you.
Charlotte stared at the phone. Let Trey come with to Kym’s studio? Her time getting inked was time she got to be herself, no guards or concerns about embarrassing herself. She wasn’t sure she could be that vulnerable in front of a man the first time they met. On the other hand, Kym’s was the one place Charlotte felt truly herself. Plus, she’d have her friend there to help. For all her own neuroses, the one problem Kym did not have was shyness. She could talk to literally anyone about anything for hours on end. It came with her job.
Weasley hissed and batted at her phone as it buzzed on the counter next to them. The reaction jarred Charlotte back to Earth just before the bacon started to burn. Unfortunately, the eggs were a total loss. Switching off the burners, Charlotte took her breakfast to the tiny table she laughingly called her dining room.
Her cat ate away happily at the food, not caring that it was half over done. All Charlotte could manage was pushing the food around her plate as she stared into space. It had been years since Charlotte had been to see a therapist about her social anxiety. She’d learned just enough to make it through her day-to-day life, but chalked it up to as good as she would ever get. But for the first time in a long time, she found herself wanting more.
There had been one exercise she always found hokey and embarrassing while in therapy, but decided to give a shot now. Closing her eyes Charlotte imagined what it would be like to meet Trey at the tattoo studio, first going through the worst-case scenario. They would shake hands awkwardly outside the door before Kym came to let them in.
During Charlotte’s appointments, the studio was always closed down to other customers, so it would be quiet except for the music Kym had chosen for the night. Probably something in the 90s punk pop era. Trey would follow her back to the room, where Charlotte would take her shirt and bra off and lay on the table.
In this worst-case scenario, Trey would be turned off by her thin frame, but would stay out of a sense of obligation after leading Charlotte on for the past few weeks. They would make stilted conversation with long silence filled pauses. Kym would try to pick up the thread of conversation, but it would be completely obvious Trey no longer held any interest. At the end of the night, he would hug her goodbye in a loose hold and walk away never to be heard from again.
Logically, Charlotte knew that there were much worse ways for a date to end. He could be an asshole, or violent, he could drug and take advantage of her. But part of her particular issues meant that those scenarios didn’t scare her nearly as much as the possibility that she would irrevocably embarrass herself, or maybe even worse, be so boring that Trey never wanted to have a second date.
Next, she pictured the best-case scenario. They would meet outside the front door of Galaxy Tattoo Studios. Trey would immediately wrap her in his big strong arms, kiss her cheek, and look at her like she was the thing he’d most wanted to see in the world. Kym would let them in, leading them back to her table. Charlotte would remove her shirt and bra, still slightly embarrassed to be so exposed before Trey.
But instead of indifference, he would show her how much he wanted her. He’d touch her skin, draw her into a kiss. Then she would lay down on the table, and he would hold her hand through the entire session. They would talk just like they had on the phone. At the end of the night, he would insist on seeing her home, and would kiss her so passionately at the door that she wouldn’t want him to leave. But he would, because he was a gentleman. And he would call her the next day to set up another date.
While Charlotte pictured each scenario, she took careful stock of her reactions. The dread in her stomach verses the elation in her chest. The burning behind her eyes versus the heating of her sex. The despair versus the hope. At the end of the visualization exercise, she asked herself the same thing her therapist always had. Would the possibility of her worst-case scenario be worth the possibility of the best-case scenario?
She opened her eyes, laughing a little when she saw Weasley had moved on to her breakfast as well. Without thinking about it too much, Charlotte picked up her phone and typed out a replay to Trey.
Charlotte: Do you know where Galaxy Ink is on the South Side? Can you be there at 7 p.m. tomorrow?
Chapter Eleven
The car vibrated as it idled at the curb of Bekah’s address. Turn it off, walk up the sidewalk, ring the bell, make conversation, be a normal person. Charlotte took several deep breaths, working up the nerve to go do exactly what she had repeated to herself during the little pep talk. Though she’d been sitting there for five minutes already and hadn’t made it any further than drumming her thumbs on the steering wheel.
If she couldn’t even get through a girl’s night with her coworkers, how was she going to get through a date with Trey? Hell, how would she be able to make it through each day in the position she’d just decided she would take?
Charlotte banged her forehead agains
t the steering wheel. Frustration with herself festered in her gut like two-week-old Chinese food. She wanted to be able to go up to that apartment and hang out like one of the girls so bad. Friends weren’t something that came easily to Charlotte, and Bekah and Mira had been so insistent that they wanted her there. So why couldn’t Charlotte force herself out of the car?
She tried doing the same visualization tactic from earlier in the day with Trey, but each time she pictured the worst-case scenario, bile rose in her stomach until her throat literally ached with the acidic taste.
A car beeped behind her, scaring her half to death. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, she saw Mira climbing out of her Honda Fit with a big duffel bag in one hand. The sophisticated woman strode up to Charlotte’s car, opened the passenger seat, and sat herself down without invitation.
“So, you’re here. You going to come in?” Mira spoke gently, but the challenge was clear. If Charlotte wussed out now, it wouldn’t just be her own secret shame. Mira would know. Would witness it.
Charlotte would never be able to look her coworker in the eye again. “Yes?” The doubt in her voice annoyed her. She could be strong. She’d proved it at work this week. “I mean, yes, I’m coming in.”
She reached into the backseat, pulling out the overnight bag she’d packed her pajamas and toothbrush in.
“Awesome, let’s go. Chris has been wine blocking me, because he thinks it will interfere with the meds I was on after the hospital. But I’ve been off all of them for weeks. Man is out of his mind.” Mira laughed and shook her head, but you’d have to be dead not to all see the love painted on her face.
“Yeah, he’s out of his mind for you. Must be nice to have someone that obsessed with you.” The very millisecond the words left her mouth Charlotte wished she could grab them in her hands and stuff them back in her lips. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think before I said that. Of course, someone being obsessed with you isn’t a good thing. I meant he loves you. Not that he’s obsessed with you like your stalker. I don't think having a stalker would be a good thing.”