Blackbird: an Online Romance

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Blackbird: an Online Romance Page 6

by Fran Seen


  “You’re not wrong,” I flicked my eyes up at Charlie, but his eyes were on my mouth. I closed my lips around the spoon, and he slowly withdrew. I whimpered, closing my eyes. Strawberry cobbler, fed to me by a handsome Native, fireside—Lord help me.

  “What’s new?” As if Charlie could read my lustful thoughts, he brushed his elbow against my own. He flashed a wicked smile at me, then changed his tone, turning to Lissa. “If you would apply, I bet a million dollars you could get into college, too,” he scolded her, and Lissa’s ears turned bright red. “Maybe if you quit hanging out with that slimey shitbird I always see you kissing on—the one with the face that looks like it fell from the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down.”

  “Charlie,” Lily appeared out of nowhere and set a hand on her son’s shoulder. Lissa shot her older brother a hateful look and disappeared inside the house. “You’re too hard on her,” Lily said in a low voice.

  “No, I’m not. If Lissa spent a fraction of her time studying instead of entertaining Dirtbag McGee, you and I both know she could raise her GPA, graduate, and have a hundred different opportunities for her future,” Charlie argued, stealing the cup of sweet tea from my hands.

  “And Lissa will come around, but on her on terms, taking her sweet time. Don’t you remember what it was like to be sixteen?” Lily cast a sideways glance my way and winked. “When Charlie was sixteen, I let him make his own mistakes and learn from them—including, but not limited to, his short stint with Marlboros and wearing his blue jeans tucked into his boots.”

  Lily and I both snickered. “Well, I’m just trying to save her some time and heartache,” Charlie shot back defensively, lowering his gaze to the drink he stole from me, and I couldn’t help but think he was a good brother, albeit a judgmental, pushy one.

  Lily sighed, claiming the hay bale beside us. “I know, honey. It would be nice to have a lawyer in the family. Tribal law is complicated.”

  Charlie nodded at my inquisitive gaze. “Too many corrupt players,” he explained, providing me with the constructs of Cherokee government, which was structured similarly to the United States, consisting of an executive, legislative, and judicial branch. All of the officials were elected by a democratic voting system, and elected officials filled twelve seats of the legislative branch and numerous positions in the judicial branch. At the top were the vice chief and principal chief of the executive branch.

  Although the official Cherokee Nation headquarters resided in Oklahoma, Charlie’s Eastern Band of Cherokee was part of the Nation, but at the same time, separate. The Eastern Band held onto their land after the United States discovered gold in Cherokee territory and enforced the Indian Removal Act, which resulted in the horrific consequences known as the Trial of Tears. The descendants of the Natives who hid in the mountains and dodged the removal were now known as the Eastern Band.

  The U.S. government dissolved the Native governing law when they decimated and relocated the Cherokee people during the Trail of Tears, but in the 1950’s, the U.S. back-peddled in an attempt to repent, by encouraging the Cherokee to form a new government.

  It wasn’t easy. The system was broken and beaten, built on a foundation of lies and distrust of the United States government. All of a sudden, the Natives went from being herded like cattle to establishing themselves as a sovereign nation.

  While poverty ran rampant amongst some government-provided reservations, the Qualla Boundary wasn’t a reservation at all. The tribal members purchased 60,000 acres of land, known today as the Boundary, which sounded like a lot of land, but before the Trail of Tears, the Cherokee Nation spanned 135,000 miles. Tourism proved to be the economic lifeblood of the Boundary. The bulk of the Qualla Boundary’s wealth stemmed from the casino earnings and tourism on the Cherokee land. To encourage financial prosperity, the Cherokee Nation wished to continue their revenue model of tourist attractions, while at the same time, protecting and preserving their lands. Thus, giving birth to the tourist trap town surrounded by untouched wilderness and blue smoke.

  Charlie told me the legality portion was a tangled web of newly written and amended constitutions, government grants, and questionable permission. “Besides embezzlement being a huge issue, it’s a pain in the ass to open up a business or get building contracts,” Charlie nudged me, swallowing down a gulp of tea. “Instead of going through a well-oiled legal system, we have to communicate our plans to the tribal council, and then the U.S. government has regulations and sanctions over what we can and cannot do. It’s a mess.”

  “Sounds like good people need to voted in,” I looked between Charlie and his mother, feeling a tinge of guilt for the pain and suffering my government caused.

  Where the Wild Things Bloom

  “What’s she like?” I asked as we walked back to Charlie’s cabin.

  “Who?” he furrowed his brow, taking my hand in his.

  “Your bride to be,” I tried to camouflage the jealousy in my voice but was unsuccessful. His mystery Native woman had filled my thoughts since learning of her existence at the pancake house.

  Charlie cleared his throat. “I’ve met her twice,” he lowered his gaze and stared across the pasture.

  I waited but no elaboration arrived. “Well?” I squeezed his hand. “Is she short? Fat? Tall? Thin? Homely? Gorgeous?”

  “I can’t say I noticed any of those traits,” he mumbled, his expression sullen, and the moment he released my hand, I plummeted face-first into the tall grass.

  I spit out a mouth of pasture and cursed under my breath. His laugh bellowed and vibrated through his chest with enough vigor to stir desire between my legs, causing my blood to run cold. The cool summer night carried his chuckle across the field. He knelt down beside me and gasped for air. “I’ve never seen someone so at odds with nature.”

  That was it. I tugged his wrist, knocking him off balance, and pulled him down. Charlie landed on top of me, nearly knocking the wind out of my lungs with his weight, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he lowered his chin, placed his lips on mine, and kissed me under the moon and stars, with fireflies dancing all around us and crickets chirping in a summer symphony. Charlie swept his tongue between my lips as his fingers dug into the back of my legs. I wrapped them around his waist, and my soft places curved against his hard body. As his desire swelled against my thigh, the color rose in my cheeks, expecting rough kisses and wandering fingertips, but I received none.

  “I’m in hell,” he groaned against my lips, breaking our kiss.

  “You’re in good company,” I breathed a little too dreamily. I caught his bottom lip between mine and suckled, squealing when he hoisted me over his shoulder. My face smacked the soft flannel of his shirt, and the world turned upside down as he began to march toward his house.

  I craned my neck as we entered his home. The interior reminded me of Lily’s house, except with more modern touches. The kitchen, fashioned around a buck stove centerpiece, opened up into a living room filled with leather couches, overstuffed chairs and a high ceiling. He carried me up the stairs like a man on a mission, and I tried to suppress a giggle as I swatted his firm behind. Charlie lowered me onto a bed covered in a heavy quilt, positioned against the far wall of the open loft. A shadow of black crowned his face from the strands of hair I’d freed from his bun. He folded his arms across his chest, looked down at me, and backed away.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. Something about his stare made my knees wobble. My eyes flicked to the ceiling, where slats of tin roof stared down at me. Charlie’s jaw flexed, and he began to pace back and forth across the wooden floor, lost in a thunderstorm of thought.

  “I shouldn’t be doing this,” Charlie said, his words coated in shame. He straightened his collar and glanced down at me sprawled across his bed. The hum of tension intensified between us. “I want to touch you, when, quite frankly, the best thing I could do for both of us is keep my hands to myself. This whole situation…there’s no happy ending,” he sighed, dejected and fixated on the floor
.

  In our short time together, I’d attuned to Charlie’s moods and became fluent in reading his expressions. I read him in one sweeping glance: the tightness of his jaw relayed the severity of the situation, but the bulge in his pants pointed to an uncertain outcome. The sudden intimacy he’d provided, on top of the events of the day, were too much. My mind flatlined to a single thought: right now, I couldn’t give two flying rats about happy endings. I burned for Charlie, and I’d felt the heat radiating off of him. I knew he burned for me, too. Though, I wasn’t sure what I expected him to do or say, since he’d promised himself to a woman he didn’t love and had met twice. He didn’t love her. He didn’t want her. He wanted me, which left his brain and cock in a battle of duty versus desire.

  The solution? A compromise.

  “Charlie?” Sitting on the bed gave me an eye-level view of his jeans and what they contained. I fluttered my lashes up at him and then stared directly at his crotch. “Would you like to watch me?” my voice came out rough as my chest rose and fell.

  Electricity pinged back and forth between us as the scene became illuminated by the moonlight pooling through the window. After a long while, Charlie nodded. I motioned for him to sit on the bed. He positioned his back against the bed frame, and I kicked off my boots and crawled between his legs, so that my back pressed against his chest with my legs splayed between his. His arm encircled my waist, propelling my hummingbird heartbeat into overdrive.

  I’d never acted so bold.

  Gathering the fabric of my dress, I pulled it up to my hips, exposing my lace underwear. My fingers trailed down my belly, sliding inside my panties. A gasp escaped my lips as my touch awakened the desire intensifying between my legs, and my fingertips teased and taunted my slickness, sending goosebumps across my flesh.

  “Do you crave me like I crave you?” Charlie asked, his voice like warm honey. His arousal tensed against my spine, and my mouth went dry.

  “Yes,” I managed between pants as he made his way down my neck, planting kisses along my throat. His breath fanned warm against my collarbone, eliciting an involuntary shiver from me. He found the sweet spot, right where my throat and jaw met, and traced tiny circles with his tongue.

  I was in trouble. My body did a full tremble. “Charlie,” I whimpered, drawing similar circles between my legs.

  A low growl erupted in his throat, rattling through his chest. He tugged the neckline of my dress down to free my breasts. “This whole bystander thing isn’t working for me,” he said, cupping my breast and grazing his thumb across my nipple.

  With one hand, Charlie gave my panties a single tug, ripping them off entirely, and tossed them over the loft railing. In an attempt to brush my lips against his, I began to turn around, but he clicked his tongue at me and pinned his arm across my chest. “Not so fast,” Charlie warned.

  He pushed my knees apart and slid his finger into me. I squealed at the intrusion, bucking my hips against his hand for more. “God, Dolly, you’re so wet. Did I do this to you?” Charlie teased, knowing damn well he was responsible for my arousal.

  “Please, Charlie,” I begged, unable to stop myself from grinding against his fingers. I splayed my legs even wider for him. “I need to touch you.”

  He ignored me, tightening his arm across my chest. “You’re beautiful,” he said, pulling my hair to the side, so he could nuzzle my temple. “And you’re so fucking smart. It’s hot.”

  Maneuvering my arm behind my back, I stroked him through his jeans, and he shuddered against me. I guess I caught him off-guard, because I managed to wiggle out of his grip. Charlie punished me by tossing me to the foot of the bed like a throw pillow. When he climbed on top of me, I tugged his shirt over his head, greedy and impatient, and ran my hands down the tense muscles of his back. A splattering of dark hair trailed down from his lower abdomen and plunged into his jeans.

  “Bad girl,” he groaned into my mouth. Pinning my arms above my head with one hand, Charlie trailed kisses down my neck, all the way down to my chest, and sucked my breast into his mouth. I gasped as he swirled his tongue around my nipple and pressed his erection between my legs.

  Freeing my hand from his grip, I took advantage of his attention on my breasts, and traced my fingers across the bulge in his jeans, feeling the thickness and length of him. But before I could free him from his confines, he plunged two fingers inside of me, and my hands found a new home, tangled in his hair. His thumb rolled over my clit, slow and gentle at first, teasing me until I was begging him for more.

  “Give me what I want,” Charlie demanded, cupping my chin in his hand and locking eyes with me. With his name on my lips and his fingers surging inside of me, my climax hit me hard and fast, but when I emerged from the overwhelming pleasure, the world around me had shattered.

  “I should take you back now,” Charlie stood, buttoning his shirt.

  “P-pardon?” I sputtered, still on the bed where he left me. He leaned against the railing, his expression unreadable, waiting for me to fix my dress and follow him downstairs. I didn’t understand why he disappeared while I slid into my boots. The jingle of keys echoed off the wooden walls. I padded down the stairs with my heart pounding and my mind a bit foggy from the climax I’d just experienced. As I crossed the living room, I walked past my pair of torn panties strewn across a weathered copy of Bog Bodies on the coffee table.

  “Are you coming?” Charlie held the door open and asked without looking my way. I closed the distance between us, slammed the door, and locked it.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, unamused, but as I pressed into him, I could feel his erection hardening against my stomach.

  Charlie wasn’t fooling me.

  “I need you in my mouth before I can decide if your mind fuckery is worth enduring,” I purred.

  “You—you do?” Charlie cleared his throat and mumbled. As his gaze thawed, his eyes widened, unable to hide the surprise on his face. I pulled him into the living room and pushed him onto the leather couch, unzipping his pants and tugging them down, revealing his sizable manhood.

  “Oh my gosh, you have a beautiful penis,” I muttered under my breath, gawking at his endowment.

  “What was that?”

  “Sit,” I ordered, and he obeyed. It was nice being bossy for once, instead of being the one bossed. “I’m going to suck your cock,” I attempted to say with conviction, though I had no experience with dirty talk. “Don’t think about anything else. I only want you to think about me and how my mouth feels around you.” Charlie nodded, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

  Charlie’s body jerked when my fingers encircled his shaft. Running my hand along his length, I eased him into the motion. His delicious gasps of pleasure propelled my movements, with his thighs tensing as I focused on the top of his shaft, rubbing my thumb along the soft ridge of his head. I looked up at him while he admired my handiwork. Our eyes bore into each other as I twirled my tongue along his tip.

  “Dolly,” Charlie let out a throaty growl. I waited for his moans to taper before I traced my tongue around the rim and then down his shaft. His fists clenched when I cupped my lips around him, finished with taunting. As I welcomed him into my mouth, his legs quivered and his hands tangled in my hair, urging me to continue.

  “That’s a good girl,” Charlie said in a low voice. The warm flutter in my belly returned, and I glanced up at him once again. With his eyes at half-mast and the muscles of his jaw ticking, I could tell he was restraining himself. Even though Charlie was too polite to slam himself down my throat, I continued to pump him into my mouth, hoping some of his politeness would wane. I took him deeper, watching him unravel in front of me. My vision watered, but I could still make out the vein along his neck and his dark eyes watching me. He buried his hands in my hair, coaching me through each motion: “More, baby... That’s it. Oh God, yes.”

  I admired the sight of him, responsive to each stroke of my hand and flick of my tongue. He was a beautiful man—an observation I’d
made even before seeing him unsheathed and glorious. But good Lord, witnessing him come undone was a sight to behold. My own arousal started to get the best of me, tingling between my legs, and images of us tangled on his bed, on top of the kitchen table, and rolling around in the pasture raided my thoughts.

  The gentle curl of his fingers in my hair grounded me back to Earth. With his head leaned against the leather of the couch, Charlie attempted to push me away as his legs trembled. “I’m close. I’m close,” he warned, but I didn’t budge. I took as much of him in my mouth as I could, following the motion of his bucking hips, and with a final shudder, he spewed down my throat like a fountain.

  Charlie’s eyes widened as I smirked and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Are you alright?” I asked him as his chest rose and fell. He needed a second to recover.

  “One more day,” he said and stood, flicking the porch lights off and scooping me up into his arms. “Please give me one more day.”

  I awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon and the glint of sunlight spilling through the sheer curtains. I required a moment to realize I was not in my hotel room. Instead, I was snuggled up in a quilt that smelled piney and masculine, in a room enclosed by skillfully stacked red cedar logs. Sliding off the bed with the blanket draped over my shoulders, I peered off the edge of the loft, down into the kitchen.

  A shirtless Charlie hovered over the gas range, cracking eggs into a skillet. I squinted my eyes to see the two ink bands circling his muscled bicep. His thick, wavy hair hung just above his shoulders. I shivered as I remembered his warm arms wrapped around me last night, cuddling us chest to chest, and the way he whispered I can’t believe I got to touch you before we dozed off.

 

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