James couldn’t help it, he smiled. Charlotte was the strangest girl he’d spent time with lately, not because she was weird or even kinky, but sweetness seemed to pour from her skin like molasses. She knew he was pissed and tried to make him smile and he let her.
He shook his head, half expecting magic dust to fall out of his hair. He could see why Sophia was so protective of Charlotte, the girl was too fucking cute for her own good.
They pulled up at the Red Emperor and walked inside.
Charlotte looked around at the packed tables nervously. “It looks pretty full…”
“Don’t worry about it, darlin’.”
The hostess came rushing up. “Your usual table?”
James nodded. Charlotte stared at him with an awestruck smile. “How’d you do that?”
“Eat here every week and I tip like a motherfucker.”
They were tucked into a booth and he ordered Mongolian beef and a beer, and Charlotte settled on radishes or some other weird shit and a sparkling water. He’d forgotten she didn’t drink. Another strange thing for someone as young and gorgeous as her. Maybe she was one of those child alcoholics who swore booze off young. He entertained himself with thoughts of a drunk teenage Charlotte and decided to ask. “How long you been sober for?”
Charlotte laughed. “I’m not an alcoholic; it’s a habit I outgrew when I started yoga. Loads of early mornings. Besides I’m a tired drunk, a lot more fun sober.”
That’s right, yoga, the reason Miss Charlotte had a body that was impossibly toned, not to mention that fucking vice of a pussy. James took a swig of beer and grimaced, it was not going down smooth tonight. “How long you been doing yoga?”
Charlotte fiddled with her dove-shaped napkin. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk yoga tonight? Hey, our food, that was quick.”
James watched as the waiter spread the napkin across Charlotte’s lap, wanting to tell the guy to watch his goddamn hands. “Why can’t we talk yoga?”
Charlotte picked up her chopsticks and began effortlessly working noodles into her mouth. “Because you seem like someone who thinks yoga belongs in the same category as fortune telling and mood rings.”
She had a point. Exercise meant cardio and weights, not twisting your body into a pretzel, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious about the idea. Or turned on. “So enlighten me.”
Charlotte hesitated. “Okay I will, but you have to promise to be open-minded.”
James grinned. “Have I said one word about those gnarly white things you’re eating?”
“It’s lotus root. It’s traditional.”
“Yeah, well you can keep that shit. I’ll stick to the traditions that involve dead animals.”
Charlotte poked her tongue out at him, but consented to tell him about her classes at the small studio on High Street. As she talked he watched her, unable to believe something so bright and shiny had been paired with such twisted desires. She was in the middle of a story about a bodybuilder who couldn’t touch his toes when James felt two big hands descend on his shoulders.
“What do we have here?”
Fuck.
He knew things were going too well. Aside from Sophia, Joel Westwood was the last person he would want interrupting his date. Not that it was a date. Joel flung himself into the seat beside him and eyed Charlotte like she was an untapped oil reserve.
“Jimmy-boy, how’s it going?”
James nodded, hoping Westwood would take his silence as a hint and fuck off.
“I see you’re as talkative as ever.” He turned to Charlotte. “Where’s golden boy been hiding you, pretty girl?”
She gave him a smile that was all public relations. “Nowhere in particular. I’m Charlie.”
She extended a hand and Joel shook with an antagonistic grin. “Lemme guess, you’ve fallen for Jim’s drawling southern charm?”
Charlotte blushed. “Something like that. How do you and James know each other?”
“Jim’s my boss. We know all kinds of things about each other.”
James’ stomach turned over. Westwood did know things about him. Things he didn’t want within shouting distance of Charlotte. He considered plunging a butter knife into Joel’s eye when to his relief a voice shouted that Westwood’s food was ready. Joel pushed back his chair.
“A few of us are heading to Diamond Bar on Friday, see you there, Jim?”
James gave a noncommittal grunt.
“Excellent to hear, Jimmy.” Joel rounded on Charlotte. “You’re more than welcome to join, sweetheart. It’s always a pleasure to spend time with one of Hunter’s girls.”
With a wink Westwood disappeared, hopefully to take his Chinese food to the depths of hell. Charlotte lifted an eyebrow at him and James’ gut coiled. He didn’t have to explain that sentence, did he? She might take the news that Joel liked sloppy seconds to the point of calling it “The Stamp of Approval” badly. As would anyone.
“So you work with that guy?”
“Afraid so.”
Charlotte tapped her chopsticks to her mouth. “He seems like…a complete knob.”
Her response was such a relief that James laughed aloud, a sound almost completely foreign to his ears. “He’s our top sales guy, he’s pretty much bulletproof.”
“Figures. Comes with the territory, doesn’t it, cowboy?”
“I am not a cowboy. I have an accent. One that you told me was sexy.”
“Yeah, when I was trying to get into your pants.” She gave him a big cheesy smile. “Mission accomplished.”
James chuckled, then remembered Westwood’s proposal. “You don’t actually want to go out on Friday, do you?”
A crease appeared between Charlotte’s eyebrows, and James realized he sounded like a dick. “I mean, you can if you want to but I don’t know if I’m gonna go, I have a lot of other stuff on…”
Charlotte’s blue eyes were unreadable. “I don’t expect you to take me anywhere, James. Besides, I’m broke.”
He snorted. “I’d pay.”
She placed her chopsticks across her empty bowl. “That wouldn’t be very casual of you.”
“Maybe not, but I’d fuckin’ take you out if you wanted to go out.”
Her blue eyes widened and James wanted to groan. This was like a fucked-up dance, she took one step back and he dragged her two steps forward. Why was he doing this?
“James, it’s fine. I’m not looking for a social hookup and your friend isn’t exactly someone I want to see more of.”
Silence stretched between them, long and uncomfortable. Finally Charlotte stood. “I’m going to walk to the bus stop. Thanks for bringing me here.”
She pulled out her wallet and began rummaging through its shiny black folds.
Wouldn’t be leather, though, not for Miss Charlotte. Fairy princesses don’t hurt animals or brag or let assholes like me pay for their dinner.
He gestured for the hostess, who appeared at his side like a genie. “Put everything on my account.”
The hostess smiled. “Very good, Mr. Hunter.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, thanks for dinner, James.”
She came around to his side of the table and kissed his cheek, her mouth as soft as a brush from a butterfly’s wing. Something inside him went very still. She moved to turn away and he seized her wrist. “Wait,”
Even after everything Charlotte’s eyes lit up with that nervous submissive glow. James stood, wooden chair rattling behind him, and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her, firm and fast and ten thousand times more unnerving than sex. “Come home with me.” He was surprised by how calm he sounded even when everything inside him was a whirling mass of chaos. “Come home with me, let me make you feel good.”
She blinked up at him, trusting him. “Okay.”
James brushed a thick lock of hair from her eyes. “Let’s go.”
Charlotte wasn’t right for him, anyone could see that. He’d be better off letting her catch her bus and finding someone less sweet and
kind and funny to lose himself in, but that wasn’t going to happen. He wanted her. He wanted to bury himself in every warm wet hole Charlotte had to offer until he couldn’t think straight, to blanket himself in her calm sweetness until everything else washed away. He was a wolf and she wanted to get eaten. The end.
Chapter 8
The second they were inside his apartment James pressed her against his door and kissed her like he was trying to draw the air from her lungs. The hot slide of his tongue against hers felt primal, honest. James wrenched away to tear at the fly of his jeans.
“Want you so bad, Blue-Eyes.”
She knew that. The whole way home his hand had stayed clamped on her thigh, as though letting go would cause him to catch fire. Charlie felt him grip the back of her dress and she pushed against his chest. “Requesting a possible venue change?”
“Fuck, your back, I forgot.” He kissed her neck, sending a spray of goosebumps down her arms. “I should have remembered, Charlotte, I’m sorry.”
The concern in his voice made her shiver. The floor sailed away as big hands carried her deeper into the apartment like a shabby bride. Minute by minute, James the bossy alpha male was morphing into someone far more confusing. Sitting across from him at the restaurant she could practically taste the restlessness seeping from his pores. She didn’t know what it meant, for him or their sexual relationship, but now she had seen it she couldn’t stop seeing it. Why could he kiss her like his long-lost love but not want her anywhere near his bed or his friends?
Stop analyzing him, Bell, lose yourself in this. The kink, the sex, that’s what you’re here for.
Banishing every analytical thought in her head, Charlie slid to her knees on the thick carpet of his lounge room. James looked down at her, eyes glittering. She pulled the dark material of his jeans down and stroked the bulge behind his expensive-looking briefs, luxuriating in the silky feel of the material. She pressed her mouth to him, inhaling the warm, raw scent, and he gently pulled her away.
“Hang on, sweetheart.” He fished a condom from his right pocket and shucked the rest of his clothes. His expression was dark and eager, completely unlike what it was before. “Much as I’d love for you to suck me off, Charlotte, I’ve gotta be inside you again.”
Feeling mischievous, Charlie leaned forward, drawing as much of his thick shaft into her mouth as she could. James jerked away with a groan. “Enough, Charlotte, I want your pussy. Please, just stand up?”
Haven’t you learned anything, James? You want me to do something, don’t ever ask.
Without breaking their eye contact she drew him back into her mouth. This time his shaft was slick and her lips slid down with ease.
“Enough.”
Charlie pulled back until only her lips were pressed against the head of his cock, like a bizarrely chaste first-date kiss.
“God, darlin’, that mouth of yours…”
She drove down again, as deep as she could get without choking, gripping the base with one hand and stroking his tight sac with the other.
“Fucking hell.”
James’ fingers tangled in her hair as pre-come spilled over her tongue. She knew he was pissed but he couldn’t pull away, and the thrill of having this big, frustrating man at her mercy was intoxicating. Then, right as she felt his cock swell and his balls draw close to his body, James wrenched her head back.
“Enough,” he muttered, glaring at her with lust bordering on fury. He rolled the condom on one-handed, his hard grip on her hair keeping her from sucking his cock back into her mouth. “I told you I wanted to fuck, Charlotte. Now lie back.”
She did what he asked, feeling the now familiar sensation of carpet against her skin. James drew up her dress and stroked her folds. Apparently assured of her wetness, he pressed the head of his cock inside her. Her pussy throbbed as it struggled to accommodate his thickness for the second time in a few hours. It was like being penetrated by the blunt end of a baseball bat. The condom snagged and James swore.
“Fucking hate these things.”
He spat into his hand and lubricated the base of his shaft, pumping slowly to let the lubrication spread. Charlie moaned, low and deep in her chest. There was pain, yes, but it was more than compensated by pleasure. She was compressed between the floor and his big body and it felt like a gorgeous claustrophobia.
James ran a hand over her thigh. “Pull your dress down. I wanna suck your tits.”
She did what he asked and he brought his mouth down, drawing on her nipples like they were hard candy. God, she wanted it to be enough, just to be impaled and devoured by him, but she needed something harder to pull her out of her own head. She clenched her eyes shut, trying to focus on the sensations.
“Charlotte?” James pulled his mouth away from her breasts. “You’re holding back, what do you want?”
Her breath hitched. “Say something, please.”
“Like what, baby? What do you wanna hear?”
Charlotte hated the way his little endearments made her heart flutter. How many women had he called baby, darling, sweetheart, and honey? She closed her eyes. “Say something bad, James, please.”
He ground his hipbones against her pussy, the rough stroke of pubic hair blazing across her clit. “You want me to get mean again?”
“Yes.”
“I thought because of the restaurant and your back—I don’t want to hurt you.”
Charlie almost laughed. He didn’t want to hurt her? The guy who fluctuated between hot and cold more than a motel shower? “You’re not meant to care about hurting me.”
James’ upper lip curled and Charlie feared she’d been too blunt. “Sorry, that was harsh, I meant—”
He cut her off with a vicious, biting kiss and when he pulled away all the warmth was gone from his eyes. “Just remember you asked for this, Charlotte.”
He tilted his hips and drove so deep Charlie screamed. He hammered for a few thrusts, pleasure blaring through her at a million decibels before driving in to the hilt and holding himself there. Confused, Charlie looked up to see him snarling at her, teeth bared. “Like that, slut?”
Charlie shivered. That was an endearment she enjoyed. She wasn’t his sweetheart or his honey, but she could be his slut. She could believe she was his slut. A hand pressed against her throat.
“I said, do you like that, slut?”
Charlie nodded, nodded to his words, to his manhandling, to the thick length still buried inside her.
“Good.” But he didn’t move. Didn’t keep fucking her. She wrapped her legs around his hips and writhed, trying to force more sensation.
“Darlin’, if you don’t stop rutting against me like a bitch in heat I’m gonna take this rubber off and stripe your face with my come.” His voice was dangerously soft.
Charlie took a deep breath and let her legs fall to the floor. “James, please…” Her lover leaned forward and bit her ear, the sting of pain sending her to dizzying new heights.
“You wanna get off easy, sweetheart? Sit on a vibrator. I’m not feeling particularly charitable tonight.” James pushed inside her, urging her thighs wider with his big hands. “This is how I like you, sweetheart. Mouth shut, legs open, your tight little pussy full.”
Charlie jerked against him. “You’re disgusting.”
James laughed, his pretty-boy dimples somehow hideously appropriate. “And you’re gushing all over my prick, sweetheart, what does that say about you?”
A finger found her clit and began flicking with a fast and agonizing pace. “Anyone ever tell you you’ve got one pretty cunt, Charlotte Bell?” he drawled, as though driving her insane was all in a day’s work. “Because you do. Soft as silk, tight as fuck.”
James’ tone was unbearably saccharine. Sugar and honey and syrup. Charlie moaned, the hard press of his fingers were getting her way too close.
“When you’re here with me, I own that pretty cunt. Would you agree?”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Whatever gets you to keep going.
“You know what that means?”
“What?” she gasped, making the word about nine syllables long.
“The next time you cover my pussy in those ugly-ass cotton panties, I’m gonna do more than tear them off. You understand?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
Her reward was his thick cock, stroking into her like nothing on earth. His sweat dripped onto her chest, slicked against her abdomen, stung her chapped lips. She was drowning in the ocean of James. Sparks burst behind Charlie’ eyes as her breath came in short bursts. The moment was almost there, nothing to hide, nothing to lose. Climax, orgasm, come, peak, gush, it was going to happen.
“That what you had in mind, little girl? Getting roughed up on the carpet like this?”
“Yes.” So close. So, so close.
“Sorry about not gettin’ to it sooner, darlin’, I forgot slutty little hentai girls don’t ever want to get fucked in missionary, no matter how sweet their great, big do-me eyes are.”
Something about the insult burned and before Charlie knew what she was doing she captured the fleshy part of his lower lip and bit down hard enough to draw blood.
“Motherfucker.” James sat up and swiped at his mouth, the tight muscles of his abdomen flexing.
His eyes met hers and for the first time a thrill of genuine fear zapped through her. His body was more than a collection of beautiful appendages and taut muscles, it was something he could easily use to dominate her. If he chose to truly attack her she couldn’t fight him off any more than she could fly. James hands dug under her ass and faster than lightning Charlie was on her stomach. She pushed against him with all her strength. Nothing. She might as well have been shoving a warm brick wall.
Red. You can say “red” and he’ll stop. But she didn’t want him to stop. James manipulated her onto all fours like a doll, his hard thighs keeping her legs spread. Charlie struggled against his grip and received a sharp slap on her ass.
“Fight me as hard as you want, darlin’, it won’t make a difference.”
He pressed her face into the thick carpet and slid inside her, the sudden penetration raw and visceral.
Charlie tried to squeeze her legs together, but he spanked her and pressed them back open. He plunged into her cunt and she shuddered around him. Where he’d tapped her G-spot before, he was battering it now, flesh smacking into her ass and cunt and clit like she was nothing at all. Her pussy was like a flower, spreading and swelling greedily, trying to pull in more sensation. An open palm stung her left ass cheek, the pain turning into her pleasure.
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