Charlie squirmed, trying to situate herself more comfortably, and Gerry groaned. The hard, long length of his cock rubbed against her cunt.
"Hey.” He slapped her on her bare ass when she kept moving around. “Stop that, or I'll lose my concentration."
"That's the idea.” She sat up, straddling his hips.
Without any warning, he took her by the waist and switched their positions, rolling over the tangle of bed sheets. She laughed until she met his gaze. The intensity she saw there stirred something deep within her.
Gently, Gerry brushed his mouth against Charlie's. The contrast between this kiss and the ones they'd shared before struck her. He kept his eyes open, stared into hers and the warmth in his gaze scared the hell out of her. The emotion in his eyes wound through her system, affecting her more than the passion he'd shown earlier. Her heart squeezed at the near reverence as he executed the kiss.
Panic rose in Charlie's throat, almost choking her. Tenderness wasn't something she wanted from her lovers, and she damn sure didn't offer it. But when she tried to deepen the kiss, Gerry refused. He held her face in his hands, and took his time destroying her defenses. Instead of the fear she'd expected, warmth permeated her, and she felt herself melting.
From the moment he'd dragged her onto the dance floor, she'd never had a prayer. Protecting herself against this man, against what he could do to her heart—to her soul—just wasn't possible. Not with him staring into her eyes, devastating her with just a simple kiss.
The moment he deepened the kiss, she closed her eyes and slid over the slippery slope of control. Fingers of delight shivered through her as he slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue diving between her lips. He moved his hands to the mattress, pulling his weight up and off her breasts. He flexed his hips, sliding his cock over her slit until the head of his penis butted against her clit. Her stomach muscles contracted, her pulse accelerating as he continued his lazy rhythm. Soon, both of them had lost control. He entered her fast, hard and high, her body quivering, and racing toward the finish. With two strokes, she was coming, his name erupting from her throat in a high, keening cry. He followed her moments—but not before pushing her up and over the edge one more time.
* * * *
Later, as Gerry dozed, Charlie slipped out of bed to dress. She didn't think she could handle his denials or morning-after flattery—especially since she was well aware he'd played the same game with too many women for him to remember. As she slipped her belt through the loops of her jeans, she shook her head. She had no right to think that way. Not with her track record, and especially not after she'd gone into this with her eyes wide open.
Sliding her fingers through her hair, she tried to bring the rat's nest under control, but she knew it was a lost cause. She picked up her boots, holding them to make sure not to wake Gerry. It was the coward's way, but she wouldn't allow him to completely destroy her. Granted, it would be a long time before this night wouldn't mess with her—okay, she'd probably never get over it—but that didn't mean she had to face the truth without any coffee.
She crept closer to the bed and studied him. A day's growth of beard now darkened his chin, but he still looked as innocent as a newborn calf. Curling her fingers into the palm of her hand, she fought the urge to brush back a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. If she touched him, he would wake up, and there was no way she'd be able to resist him. With a sigh of regret, she slipped out the door.
The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Charlie pulled up to Alison's house. She'd taken one of the ranch's rigs, since her car was still at the VFW. Sunday morning sunrise probably wasn't the best time to visit Alison, but Charlie couldn't deny the comfort she took in the sight of the Mankin home. The frame house had belonged to Alison's parents who'd moved to Galveston three years ago. Plastic toys littered the yard, a layer of dew covering them. As Charlie stepped onto the porch, it sagged and groaned beneath her weight. Alison had been griping at Chet to fix it for a year now. The paint was peeling and a few screens needed replacing, but Charlie felt more at home here than she did in her own house.
Hesitantly, she knocked on the door, trying not to disturb Buster, the Mankin's older-than-dirt bloodhound. Despite her efforts, Buster immediately sounded the alarm, and within seconds she heard someone stumbling to the door. When the footsteps were followed by a crash and a particular nasty curse, she was pretty sure it was Chet.
He opened the door, and Charlie tried not to laugh. His hair was a mess, his eyes were barely open, and his t-shirt was inside out. The hair he always wore slicked down, without a strand out of place, was now flattened on one side and sticking straight up on the other. He squinted at her.
"Charlie? What the hell are you doing here?” Even as he asked, he was pushing open the screen door.
Behind him, she heard footsteps, then she saw Alison peek over his shoulder. “Charlie? What's wrong?"
Charlie wanted to be an adult and just say nothing. She wanted to handle it all on her own, just like she usually did. She never revealed her emotions, not even to her best friend. Her father had forbidden it. But too many years of holding back, of not asking for anything because her father wasn't willing to share, she finally broke free. With a sob, she stepped around Chet and threw herself into Alison's arms.
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Chapter 6
Gerry grimaced, trying his best not to leave the dream. He was snuggled up in bed with a warm woman, and even the sun shining on his face didn't bother him. But some jackass kept pounding on the damn door, and the noise was fucking up one incredible dream. He stretched, rolled onto his back, and pried an eye open. The door beating continued, but he ignored it. Instead, he closed his eye and reached for Charlie. When he found nothing but an empty bed, he opened his eyes and searched the room.
"Dammit, Gerry, open up the danged door!” Charles Freemont shouted from outside.
Damn, he didn't need this. Freemont wouldn't take kindly to the fact that Gerry'd had his baby daughter in bed. Didn't matter how old she was.
Sitting up, he stretched again, in no rush to answer a summons from his mentor. Glancing around, he noticed that not only was Charlie gone, but her clothes were too. Irritation crawled down his spine, his temper slowly boiling. He didn't know what reason she'd come up with, but her absence was something he hadn't expected and just couldn't accept.
Gerry slid out of bed, grabbing a pair of jeans and slipping them on without bothering with the button. His mind still wasn't working correctly, and it wouldn't without at least two cups of coffee. He stumbled to the door and opened it.
Charles Freemont had always been an impressive man. He was six-four, lean as a whip, with a full head of white hair he'd worn in the same buzz cut for over twenty years. His blue eyes studied Gerry, taking in his state of undress.
"What in the hell took you so long, boy?"
Gerry shrugged and stepped back from the door, allowing the older man to enter. Even though all Gerry wanted to do was find Charlie and give her a good talking to.
"What you want, Charles?"
"Have you seen Charlise?"
"I just got out of bed."
"Well, I know both of you went to the VFW last night, so did you see her there?"
Gerry nodded but said nothing else, because he didn't know how much Charles knew.
"I can't find her. And she didn't drive back last night. Can't find her Mustang anywhere. And one of the rigs is missin'."
The genuine concern in Freemont's eyes sent a swift kick of guilt and worry to Gerry's gut. Sure, he knew she'd made it here safely, but he wasn't quite sure what had happened after she left him.
"When she didn't return last night, I thought she might've made up with Sam Whitehorse. That girl ain't got no sense."
The unwanted reminder of the ex-lover sent Gerry over the edge. “Whitehorse is a jackass."
He said it with such vehemence that Charles’ eyes widened. “What's wrong with Sam? Good boy, knows co
ws, and damn sure would've been easier if we'd combined the ranches."
Gerry's anger rose swiftly. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you insist she marry a man she doesn't really like?"
"She liked him well enough to date him for several months. Lord knows she slept with him."
"It isn't like he was the first."
"Are you insulting my girl?"
Gerry rolled his eyes. “No. Your girl, by the way, is old enough to make her own decisions. She's also old enough to say no to a bastard like Whitehorse. Everyone knows he was only after this ranch."
"And just what the hell is wrong with that? Man wants to marry well, make one of the biggest ranches this side of Dallas—that's not a stupid move."
"No, but it is a stupid move on your part.” Exasperated, Gerry threw his hands up in the air and started pacing. “You think the only way for Charlie to get a man interested her is to offer this ranch?"
"Son, it ain't like that was the only time I've offered up a piece of the ranch. But she'd never even nibble at those guys. Whitehorse and her started dating, oh, while I was out tending to you in Las Vegas. I got home, realized what was going on, and had a little talk with him."
Gerry stopped and started at the man. Ever since he'd latched on to Charles Freemont as a surrogate father, he'd looked up to him. But at the moment, he would have loved to kick the man's ass.
"Are you telling me you offered her up to other men as part and parcel of the ranch? Like some goddamn piece of meat?"
"Now, Gerry, that's the way things are done. I don't have a son, and I know that you don't want to be tied down to the ranch, or I'd leave it to you."
"Leave it to me?"
While he wanted to be grateful for Charles’ generosity, Gerry just couldn't. Charlie Freemont had worked her tail off on the ranch. She knew more about it than any man on it aside from her father. And this idiotic man didn't even consider leaving the ranch to his daughter. Instead, he wanted to offer it as some kind of bounty to marry her off with—as if she'd need that to attract a man—or give it to someone who wasn't even part of the family.
"Of course. You're like my son. It was my one regret that Lisa and I never had another child, especially a boy."
While it gave Gerry a momentary jolt of joy to hear that, the comment about “a boy” rubbed him the wrong way. But before he could say anything, his cell phone rang. Hoping it might be Charlie, he went after it. Noticing the last name Mankis, he turned on the phone.
"Gerry?” Chet kept his voice at a bare whisper.
"Whatcha need, Chet?"
"You need to get over here."
"Why are you whispering?"
"Charlie's here, and Alison would have my ass if she knew I was calling you. Get over here and straighten it out. I can't take any more drama. The woman's been crying since she got here. Not to mention, she's talking about marrying Whitehorse now."
In the background, Gerry heard, “Chet, where are you?"
Without another word, Chet hung up, apparently saving his ass in the process. Gerry moved quickly, buttoning his pants and striding past Charles in search of a shirt.
"What are you doing now?"
"Charlie's over at the Mankins."
"Well, at least we know that. You going over there to straighten her out?"
Gerry tugged on his t-shirt and grabbed his boots. After he sat and donned them, he grabbed his keys and sunglasses. Without pausing, he said, “You can bet the damn ranch on it."
He strode out the door, ready to battle. It was about time Charlie admitted what they meant to each other.
* * * *
Charlie splashed cold water on her face and appraised herself in the small bathroom mirror. Since she'd shown up a few hours earlier, Alison had been wonderful. Chet had disappeared, like men normally did when confronted with a crying woman. As she dried her face, she contemplated her decision.
Alison had panicked when Charlie said she was going to marry Whitehorse. The marriage might not be what she wanted in life, but it wasn't like her father was ever going to give her the ranch. She truly believed he would rather sell it than leave it to her to run. A fresh set of tears spilled over, and she groaned. This was getting to be too much.
Charlie wiped her face dry, took a deep breath, and opened the door. Just as she stepped out into the hallway, raised voices sounded down the hall. She walked toward the shouting and stopped cold when she saw who was making most the noise.
Gerry stood in the doorway, glaring down at Alison, who had her fisted hands firmly planted on her hips.
"I asked where the hell Charlie is, Alison, and I ain't going anywhere until you tell me."
"And I told ya if you don't quit making a scene and leave, I'll sic Chet on you."
Chet was nowhere to be found again. Alison must have moved, because Gerry looked over her. The tense, angry lines of his face relaxed, and a look of what might have been relief passed through his eyes. He ignored Alison, pushing past her and striding toward Charlie. The panic and pain that had been hounding her since she'd left him came flooding back. She took a step away from him, but he reached her before she could escape.
"You're going to be pissed, but, well, I'm sick of waiting."
With that comment, he grabbed her hand and dragged through the Mankins’ living room. Alison tried to intervene, but Chet made a miraculous appearance and made sure he kept her out of the way.
Before Charlie could react, Gerry pulled her down the front steps to his truck. She finally reacted when he opened the door to his pickup and tried to stuff her into the cab, much like he'd done the night before. She yanked her arm away and backed away from him, down the side of the truck.
"What the hell do you want?” she asked, happy that the only time in the last couple hours, she hadn't started crying the moment she opened her mouth.
"I want you to get in the truck."
Is the man that stupid? When he didn't smile, just continued to stare at her, she realized he probably was. “No."
He blinked, clearly surprised by her answer. “What?"
"I said no."
His nostrils flared as a rush of color flooded his cheeks. “Get in the damn truck."
She crossed her arms and shook her head. Gerry settled his hands on his hips and glanced around.
"We're drawing a crowd. I really would rather talk in private."
She sniffed, fighting the embarrassing tears that burned the back of her eyes. “I don't think being alone with you is a good thing. And I have some things I have to do."
"Like tell that jackass Whitehorse you'll marry him?” Her surprise must have shown on her face, because he nodded. “Yeah, I heard about that. Do you actually think I would let that happen after last night?"
She swallowed a lump that had risen in her throat. “Last night was just..."
"What? Just what?” When she didn't answer, his gaze grew even more intense. “Do you think that, after years of ignoring my attraction to you, I'd settle for a one-night stand?"
"So, after years of hopping from one bed to the next, you're ready to settle down? Give me a break."
Charlie turned away, needing some distance to save herself. But she didn't get far before Gerry latched onto her arm and spun her around. She opened her mouth to yell at him, but found her breath stolen when he slammed his lips down on hers. The taste of him sent her senses reeling. Her heart galloped, and her head spun.
Even as her body throbbed with approval, she couldn't stop the sob that escaped from her. He stopped kissing her but pressed his forehead against hers.
"Don't cry, baby."
Gerry took her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs.
"When I was in the hospital, I had one thing on my mind. One thing that kept me going—and that was you."
Charlie pulled away, stunned, and he smiled. “That's right. You are the only reason I worked my tail off to get up and out of that bed. See, when we were kids we were friends, but then puberty hit. Nothing
was ever the same again, and I knew I didn't want to stay here. You wouldn't leave the ranch, I couldn't stay here. It was that simple. But after Stampede trampled me, my first thought when I woke in the hospital was you. Never going after you was my only regret. Last night wasn't about just sex. Jesus, Charlie, please stop crying."
She snorted. “I never cry."
"Hell of a time to start.” He sighed. “I can't let you marry Whitehorse."
"Then what the hell are you gonna do about it, Dillon?” Chet yelled.
Charlie glanced around and noticed that several of the Mankins’ neighbors had stepped outside to watch them. Heat filled her face. “Lord. I'll never live this down."
Gerry chuckled. “You're just going to have to marry me and make an honest man out of me."
"That's not funny."
His smile dissolved, and he cocked his head to one side as he studied her with serious eyes. “What made you think I was joking?"
She glanced around at their audience and leaned closer to him. “I don't want a scene."
He shook his head. “Too late for that, babe."
Rage mixed with pain twisted in her heart, laying it open to bleed. Without another word, she turned in the opposite direction and started down the hill toward the street. The crowd—which now included members of five of the surrounding houses—began catcalling and razzing Gerry.
"You know, I can't let you run out on me. That baby is going to need a father."
She stopped in her tracks and spun to face him. All the anguish faded, replaced by a surge of anger. She stepped back closer to him. “You know I'm not pregnant,” she muttered under her breath.
His eyes sparkled with familiar mischief. “Yeah, but by the time church is out this afternoon, you'll be expecting triplets."
"You don't want to live here."
He sobered. “I want to be wherever you are.” His eyebrows drew down in a concentrated frown. “I don't care if you want to stay here."
Charlie wanted more. For once in her life, she needed to know that she was the one he was after. “And my daddy's ranch has nothing to do with this."
A Torrid Celebration! Page 3