by Brandy Ayers
The clapping blasted through the door, and Charlotte sat, stunned. The panic which had threatened to suffocate her just moments ago still tried to hold its nasty grip on her throat. In its place, something she’d never experienced before grew. Pride. Slowly, the reality came through. She hadn’t failed. They’d done well. Maybe she could actually do this.
After whipping the newsroom into a frenzy, Michelle swept back into the office, sitting across from Charlotte. “I need you to run the desk. This right here, today, proves that not only can you do the job I need you to do, you can excel at it. And I will support you in whatever way you need. Please, think about it.”
Charlotte could only nod, numbness creeping up her fingers and arms as the adrenaline and fear ebbed away. In contrast, her heart, hell her entire chest, swelled to the point she feared she’d float away from the shear overwhelming joy at having Michelle and the entire crew praising her work.
“Now, you have more than put in your time for today. Go home. Get some sleep. Take tomorrow off. I’ll work your shift.” Michelle stood. She wasn’t showing yet, but Charlotte knew the early days of her pregnancy must be taking their toll.
Shaking herself out of her emotionally confused state, Charlotte stood, shaking her head vehemently. “No, you can’t do a night shift. You’re pregnant.”
Michelle scoffed, rounding the desk to her chair. “It’s fine. I stay up puking all night anyway. Turns out morning sickness can strike at all hours. I’ll just come in late tomorrow, and I can guarantee you, Russ will come in with me and sit here trying to get me to give him a quickie in my office all night.”
Charlotte twisted her fingers together. She almost never took her allotted personal days. Only if she was truly sick and one holiday a year to celebrate with her parents. But she had to admit, it would be nice to have a night off.
Michelle smirked a little bit. A look Charlotte had learned to dread. It meant she had something up her sleeve. “You deserve a night off. Do not come in tomorrow. I will have IT lock you out of the system if you do.”
Charlotte blew out a laugh, but nodded in agreement. “I guess it would be nice to spend an entire day in my pajamas reading.”
“Plus, you can go to bed at a normal time, see how the rest of us live.” Michelle smiled, nodding to the door. “Okay, get out of here. Good job today. Seriously, I’m proud of you.”
The swelling of her heart doubled, along with a warm glow that filled Charlotte’s chest, spilling over until she didn’t know what to do with herself and tears burned at the corner of her eyes. Quickly, she stood and made her way to her desk. With the barest nod at Annabelle, Charlotte gathered her things and hurried out to her car. She could feel the long day catching up with her and knew, at any moment, the dam on her emotions could burst. When that happened, she wanted to be in the comfort and safety of her own bed.
The short drive to her apartment helped her to calm down a little, but as soon as she hit her bed, and Weezey curled up beside her, she broke down. The tears ran hot down her cheeks, and she hiccupped into the soft orange fur of her beloved cat. She couldn’t even be sure why she was crying. It had been a good day by all accounts. The team kicked ass, they beat the competition, and she had a date to plan with Trey. So why could she not stop crying?
For most of her life, Charlotte hid her emotions. Her father had been too busy managing the wild mood swings of her mother, the same woman who had trouble seeing beyond her own nose. So, Charlotte had learned to bottle it all up, to stay quiet and out of the way. But she didn’t know how to cap this flow of emotions.
Doing something she almost never resorted to, Charlotte pulled the cell phone from her pocket and dialed Kym’s number. The tattoo artist might be the closest thing Charlotte had to a best friend, but they weren’t really on calling terms. Mostly they chatted online, and occasionally texted. There was only one other time they had talked on the phone, and that had been when Kym was in the middle of a panic attack.
“Charlotte, what’s wrong?” The buzz of machines in the background faded as her friend obviously walked someplace more private.
“I’m sorry. Are you in the middle of session right now? I can call back.” No matter how hard she fought to hold it together, Charlotte knew her voice gave away the torrent of emotions.
“The guy I’m working on was on the verge of passing out anyway. He’s putting his head between his knees and drinking water now. I have time to talk. Now spill. Why the tears?”
Before she could overthink it anymore, Charlotte began spilling everything to Kym. Trey, the story, the promotion offer, the impending girls night with Mira and Bekah. It all came out in an avalanche of words. It might have been the most Charlotte had ever spoke in one sitting. The tears dried up as she got it all out, but the unfamiliar emotions still roiled in her belly, threatening to make an appearance at any moment. Knowing she was capable of a break in her stoic hold on her feelings made panic rise in her belly.
How many times had she watched her mother go off on a crying jag, threatening to kill herself, insisting no one loved her? Countless. And each time her father would beg and plead for her mom to believe how much they both loved her. Then he would whisk her away to some exclusive spa where she would recover and get back on her meds. Often, he would go with and leave Charlotte with a neighbor, or alone when she got older.
“Okay. That is a lot happening at once. I get why you feel overwhelmed.” Kym’s calm, smooth voice helped to lower Charlotte’s heart rate a little more. “But, honey, these are all good things. You need to just approach each one at a time. Don’t think about how it is all happening at once. They are all isolated opportunities. So, what is the one thing you are most worried about?”
“The promotion. I mean, it is a lot more money, but also so much responsibility. I would be in charge of the assignments for every single reporter and photographer in the entire station. I’d be running meetings, standing up in front of everyone and speaking. Making decisions. What if I can’t do that? I’ve essentially been alone during my job for the entire time I’ve worked there. I rarely even had to fill in on the day shift.”
“But you did it today, right?”
“Yeah, but that was different. That was breaking news. It was insanity the whole time. I could barely stop to breathe, let alone think. Once it was all done, I almost had a panic attack in my boss’s office.” Charlotte replayed the moment she thought Michelle had been pissed over and over again in her head. The panic tightening her chest. The air refusing to fill her lungs. It all rushed back as if she was in the moment again.
But then the memory of Michelle’s faith in her abilities, the joy at being part of a team that brought such an important story to the community. Hell, she’d led the team. That same warmth she’d felt back at the station returned, only this time it burned hot and urgent. Need. It was the need to do it all again.
“Charlotte, if you can run the entire newsroom during one of the biggest, craziest news days, then you can run it on a slow day too. I think you’d be even better on a slow day. No one comes up with last minute stories like you do. Didn’t you once tell me Annabel sometimes calls and asks for your advice during the day?” Her voice was soft, patient.
At times like this, Charlotte forgot that Kym had her own debilitating issues. She barely left the tattoo shop, lived in the apartment above. Charlotte’s issues weren’t the only reason they only ever hung out at the shop. But then, wasn’t it always easier to see other people’s problems and solutions more clearly than your own?
“Sure, but that’s different. I can tell her what stories to send reporters out on from the comfort of my house. I don’t have to stand up in front of everyone and give my opinions. I don’t have to watch everyone judging me.” Just thinking about everyone sitting in Michelle’s office staring at her and critiquing her words made her want to break out in hives, and that all encompassing need from just a moment ago faded slightly. But not enough that it didn’t still pulse under her skin.
&
nbsp; “They aren’t judging you, Charlotte. They are judging the stories and their possibilities.” Kym took a deep breath, and seemed to consider her next words before continuing. “Maybe you should ask Michelle if you can do a trial run. Work for a week in the position, have the guy you’d be replacing work your shift. See how it goes. It might make you more confident in your abilities. And if it turns out you really don't want to do it, no harm. You go back to the night shift, and they open up the position to outside candidates.”
Before Charlotte could really think about that, her phone beeped with an incoming call. Pulling it away from her ear, her heart seemed to fill with helium, threatening to float away when she saw Trey’s name flashing on the screen.
“Trey’s calling.”
“Ohhh, the other reason you’ve been freaking out lately. Are you going to answer it?” Kym’s voice instantly got excited, sounding more like a pre-teen girl than the hardened tattoo artist. “You should answer it. He sounds nice.”
“He is. Almost too nice. How many guys would hang around this long just talking on the phone with someone? There has to be something off with him, right?” Even as the words came out of her mouth, she knew they weren’t true. Having a higher than average dose of fear tended to make Charlotte very aware of people and their intentions. Every bit of her and her overactive Spidey senses said that Trey was the real deal.
“Charlotte, I am going to say this with love, and from someone that wishes I could take my own advice. Embrace the hope. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. But try.” Kym’s voice clogged with emotion for a moment, but before Charlotte could ask her anything else, her friend cleared her throat and rushed on. “I have to go. My big wimp is ready to start again. Talk to you later.”
The line went silent, before it beeped again in her ear, signaling Trey was still calling her. With a deep breathe, she swiped across her screen, accepting the call.
Embrace the hope.
Could she do that? She honestly wasn’t sure.
Chapter Nine
“Hello?” Thank God for Kym and her impromptu phone therapy session, otherwise Trey might have heard tears in her voice when he called. But Charlotte knew she now sounded at least a little put together.
“Well, hey there, my sexy journalist. I watched the story on the web when I got home. Your team did great. I couldn’t even tell that was my voice, and it was my words.” Trey’s deep booming voice always managed to send a wave of shivers down Charlotte’s core, making something deep inside her clench in need.
“Yeah, they did great. You didn’t get any blowback from doing the interview did you?” Charlotte hated even thinking about Trey getting in trouble because of her.
“Nope. The Chief sent out a strongly worded email to all the units that responded saying we weren’t allowed to give interviews, but they have no idea who it was.” Trey groaned, sending all sorts of familiar and unfamiliar sensations running through Charlotte’s body. She wondered where he was and what he was doing to produce such a manly sound. “I was afraid you’d be asleep. You should be asleep. You’ve been up for more than twenty-four hours.”
“I know. I’m in that weird space where I’m completely wired, yet totally exhausted. Michelle gave me tonight off though, so at least I don't have to be back at work in four hours.” Charlotte flipped onto her stomach in her soft, queen sized bed, burrowing in under her fluffy comforter. She loved the feel of the heavy blanket pressing down on top of her. Even in the height of summer, Charlotte blasted the air conditioning to near frigid temperatures so she would be able to use the huge thing. She couldn’t sleep without it.
“Girl, what are you doing right now. It sounds like you’re rubbing sandpaper across your phone.” Trey laughed that deep booming laugh, and it instantly made Charlotte smile so wide, it hurt her cheeks. She kinda couldn’t wait to see and hear that laugh in person.
“I’m getting under my blanket in bed. Your voice is so great, I feel like maybe I could fall asleep to it right now.” Her eyes slipped closed, though she knew sleep wasn't nearly as close as she hoped.
“Fuck, woman, you can’t tell me you’re in bed and not expect me to have all sorts of dirty thoughts pop into my head.” A rush of air crackled across the phone, and she imagined Trey expelling that breath across her bare skin. “What are you wearing in bed?”
“Are you really asking me what I’m wearing?” Charlotte laughed, but it was a lighter bubblier laugh than she had ever had before.
“Damn right I am. I need to paint a picture in my head here.” Rustling echoed down the line from his side of things. “Here, I’ll get us started. I’m wearing black boxer briefs, and I just got out of the shower after fighting that fire all day, so my hair is still a little wet. And I just got into my bed. Your turn.”
Charlotte’s cheeks flamed red. That picture of him, shirtless and wearing the trousers to his firefighting suit low around his hips popped into her head. All those deep lines separating his abs glistening with water. Moisture pooled between her thighs at just the mental image. She would probably spontaneously combust if she ever got to see the real thing.
“Um, okay, I’m wearing my Mind if I Slytherin to bed? T-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. But they are from my senior year in high school, so they are both a little threadbare and tight. Not exactly sexy.”
“You don't know how wrong you are. Those trim legs in little shorts, barely covering your ass. I bet you have one of those high, tight asses, perfect for grabbing in my big hands when I’m pulling you up against me.” Jesus, those words, in that bass voice, just about had Charlotte coming apart at the seams. “The only picture I found of you was from the front, but I could tell just from that you have a trim little body. Sweet tits that I can suck and bite, make you come with just my mouth.”
“Oh God, Trey.” She didn't know what to say. She’d never done anything close to as sexy as this. Charlotte was no stranger to making herself come, but this pulsing of blood in her veins, the throbbing of her clit between her legs, it felt better than any orgasm she’d had, and she wasn’t even touching herself. Her hips pulsed, gently humping the mattress beneath her, seeking any sort of friction.
“You like that, baby? Bet my voice isn’t putting you to sleep now, is it? You playing with yourself?”
“N-no. I’ve never done that before. Not on the phone at least.” Her words were thin as spun sugar, and the pressure deep in her belly just as sweet.
“I’m going to need you to slip your fingers into those sleep shorts, tell me how wet you are, Charlotte.” Her name took on a new life on his tongue. It was sensual and sexy, innocent but begging to be corrupted. Her name had never sounded so good. “Tell me.”
“I d-don’t know if I c-can.” Desire and embarrassment swirled together to confuse her already muddled emotions. She desperately wanted to please this man, but honestly wasn’t sure she had that capability. Trey was a big, strong, hot beyond reason firefighter. She was a mousey, shy, anxious assignment editor. There was no way she could please him.
“Baby, you’re going to make me feel guilty about sitting in my place and stroking my cock to the thought of you in your little pajamas. I need you to touch yourself or tell me to stop.” A pained growl filled her ear. Then nothing, as if Trey held his breath waiting to see what she’d do next.
“Don’t stop.” She could picture him, reclining on some huge bed, stroking his big dick. God, she’d seen so many of them in the porn she secretly watched by herself. But never touched one, her palm practically tingled with the need to touch him. To find out how hard that long, thick appendage that hung between a man’s leg got. “Are you big?”
Her already flaming face grew even hotter after she blurted out the question. But she had to know. Desperately needed to know how he would fill her if she ever had the courage to let this man inside her body.
“Oh, sugar, you have no idea. I bet your little hand wouldn’t even be able to wrap the whole way around it. And long, long enough to hit spo
ts inside you that have never been touched before.”
Charlotte didn't mention how easy a claim that would be, considering not even a vibrator had entered her, but his words thrilled her all the same. Slowly, she slid her hand down between the mattress and her belly, pressing slightly to slip her fingers beneath the time loosened waistband of her shorts. She skated one finger over her tingling clit, and gasped.
“There you go. Now you’re with me, aren’t you, my Charlotte?”
“Yes.” Repeating the motion again, pressing just a little harder, her hips pulsed down, grinding into the bed and her hand. Her body wanted more, no matter how nervous or embarrassed she might be.
“How wet are you?” Trey’s voice seemed to get even deeper the further they went. She wanted to press their chests together and beg him to just talk to her, so she could feel those vibrations in her heart.
But they weren’t together, so instead she moved down to her entrance, collecting the slick arousal that pooled there, and spreading it up over her clit. “I’m soaked.”
“Fuck yes, you are. You know what I’d do to you first? I’d put my mouth down there. Maybe even before I kissed your lips, I’d kiss your pussy first. I’d drink down that cream you got pouring of you, cover my face in it while you screamed above me. Then I’d kiss your sweet mouth, let you taste what I do to you the very first time I claim your lips.” No one had ever talked to Charlotte like that. It was filthy and amazing. She wanted more.
A rhythmic slap slap slap became loud enough on his side for her to hear. Matching the rhythm of it with her fingers rubbing around and around her pulsing button, she tried to imagine what it would be like to have that mountainous man.
“Tell me what you’re doing Charlotte. Are your legs spread open for me?”
“No, I’m on my stomach, touching myself. Trey, oh god, it feels so good, it has never felt this good before.” She became so wet, her fingers slipped and fell out of rhythm, but somehow that felt even better. She whined and moaned, the pressure in her belly pushing down into her pussy.