by L. J. Dee
“I should stay here tonight,” he said as I rolled my eyes. It had been six months, but Charlie Hunter hadn’t changed. He was straightforward, loving, protective and as easy as hell to read.
“Forget it, Charlie, what’s past is past,” I said, sitting back in my chair. I’d taken a risk, but it was a calculated one. I couldn’t sound as desperate as I felt, the blood rushing through my veins so fast I could almost hear it. I wanted to hate him, it was what he deserved, but I’d realised long ago that would never be the case. A love so deep was indelible, a stain on the soul that had plunged my life into darkness in the blink of an eye. Only Charlie Hunter could bring back the light.
“Give me forty minutes,” he said gently, putting down the phone as I span around in my chair, happier than I’d been in months. In less than an hour I would be preened and presentable, looking every inch the doe eyed victim and Charlie would be staying the night in my bed. The most difficult thing would be holding back the grin that was threatening to burst through my face at the thought of having him back. Because one thing was certain: After tonight Charlie Hunter was mine, and I would NEVER let him go again.
Charlie was easy. Not complex like Roman, or brooding like Lucas, or unpredictable like Tyler. He was straightforward; his face like a readable guide to whatever was going on in his head and I had forty minutes to ensure the expression when he opened that door was exactly the one that I wanted.
I’d need to play out of character tonight while his defences were down. He’d be expecting me to be surprised...and angry. As far as he knew I wasn’t even aware of why he had ended it. Of course I was only too aware. It had taken a great deal of manipulation and cost me ten grand to bribe one of the staff at Greenfield Hall, but there was no way I could have rested not knowing what was at the heart of it. After the Barbie sisters, it didn’t matter; nothing did.
He’d want my forgiveness and he’d get it, and by the time he left my apartment there would only be one outcome I smiled to myself, opening up the drawer and pulling out the black box that had been nestled there for the last six months.
I opened it, smiling at the gleaming diamond encrusted watch. It had been my most audacious idea at the time and I was livid I’d never got to use it. God knows I could certainly have done with it then. I closed the lid, opening my wardrobes and looking for something I knew Charlie would like. He loved sexy; he loved vamp and he loved feisty, but tonight he wouldn’t be getting it. Tonight it would be jeans, girly soft pale pink cashmere, hanging off my shoulder with only a hint of the red underwear he loved so much, showing underneath. Tonight he needed to forget Scarlett the ball-breaking bitch. I needed to play the victim and I needed to perform the role well. Only then would I get everything I wanted.
I was only just ready as the doorbell rang and I padded across the carpet, out of the bedroom, into the lounge and through to the hallway, looking through the peephole at his flustered expression.
I opened the door; staring at the incredible face I had missed so much, fraught with emotion as a million feelings flooded through me. I had to keep it together, stick to the plan, but Charlie Hunter affected me just as deeply now as he always had, and immediately tears sprang to my eyes, unyielding and unplanned and letting him know exactly how I felt. This was not how it was supposed to happen.
He stepped inside quickly, pulling me into his arms as I breathed his scent, a unique, intoxicating smell that took me back to every wonderful moment we’d shared and I couldn’t stop the torrid flow of tears as he held me tightly, holding my head against his as he tried to soothe my pain. “Oh Scarlett, sssshhhh, baby ssshhh,” he said over and over as heaving sobs wracked my body and I collapsed against him, unable to say anything but his name. “Charlie,” I gasped as he squeezed me so hard I couldn’t breathe. I loved him so dearly and I feared in that moment that I always would.
“Scarlett,” he said, pulling away, holding my face in his hands and wiping away the steady stream of tears that were flowing in unending rivulets down my cheeks as I found myself apologising. “Oh baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. This is all my fault. I fucked up so bad, Scarlett, we need to talk,” he said, guiding me across to the couch, sitting me down as he moved to sit beside me. I closed my mind to my plan. I wanted to hear what he had to say, wondering if maybe I should come clean. No; that would achieve nothing and I sat back silently waiting for him to speak.
“Dad told me he found you in bed with Roman,” he said as I stared at him in stunned horror. The reaction was genuine. I’d heard it from the maid and I knew it was the reason, but hearing it from Charlie now made it seem somehow real. I felt every ounce of the pain that was written in those beautiful features. I stayed silent in my confusion. “I know now that you didn’t do it, Scarlett, but I didn’t then. That was why I ended it, why I went with the Barbie sisters... it was the reason for all of it,” he said as I swallowed hard, shaking my head.
“Why didn’t you just ask me, Charlie?” I said as the tears threatened again and he put his head in his hands. Instinctively I laid mine on his back, wanting to soothe away his sorrow despite what he’d done. It didn’t matter. I knew the emptiness I’d felt in the last six months and there was no pain comparable. I’d take anything but that. He turned a puzzled frown on me.
“I don’t know. Roman took off and I guess that just confirmed it for me. I thought you’d be mad, Scarlett,” he said softly, turning to look at me as I sighed deeply.
“I’m so far past mad, Charlie, I can’t even begin to explain. Nothing hurts more than not being in your heart. Not the humiliation or the fact that you didn’t trust me and thought I could hurt you that way. My heart shattered so hard when you ended it that I felt it; it was physical. I still feel it, Charlie,” I said and every single one of those words was the truth.
“Oh Jesus, baby. I don’t know what to do, but I want you to forgive me; you have to forgive me, Scarlett. Roman turned up at the house after the wake and when he told me....oh fuck, Scarlett...” he said, running his firm hands along the soft pink cashmere of my arms and gently kissing away my tears as I just stared at him open mouthed and praying this was really happening. I’d had dreams, thousands of them where he came back begging my forgiveness, waking to the raw hurt that consumed me all over again. But he was here, this was real.
“Have you come back to me?” I asked, my fragile voice no louder than a whisper as he held my gaze, before bowing his head and I looked away, trying to recall my plan, think what I needed to do, but the emotions were so overwhelming, so physical, so consuming that I couldn’t even think straight.
“I don’t know,” he said as my face contorted in pain and I tried to stand, almost collapsing as I made my way on shaky legs towards the huge glass wall, looking out over the panoramic view of London, the glittering lights and the historical beauty; the reflected pained figure of the man I loved, slumped on my couch with his head in his hands, broken and confused and not knowing which path to choose. I had to guide him. I needed to pull myself together and show him just what he needed to do, making my way silently into the bedroom, returning to the couch with the black box in my hands as he moved his head to look at me.
“Do you remember Paris, Charlie?” I asked as he nodded. “I bought you this when we got back, only I never got the chance to give it to you,” I smiled, handing him the box as he frowned, opening it and looking at the beautiful timepiece as sorrow engulfed his features once again.
“I can’t accept this, Scarlett,” he said, looking up at me. “Give it to someone else, baby,” he smiled, his words like a dagger through my heart as I swallowed hard.
“I can’t. It belongs to you. Whether you wear it or not, it can only ever be yours,” I said as the tears weaved their tracks down my face once again.
“I don’t understand,” he said as I lifted the watch from the box, turning it over and quoting the inscription on the back. “Mon Coeur vous appartient toujours.” It means my heart will always belong to you. You know I’m not t
he kind of girl who gives my heart away, Charlie, but in Paris I had no choice. You took it, stole it without permission and you have it still,” I said, sitting beside him.
He stared at me silently for a moment, processing my words, gazing into my eyes and for a split second the electricity was there, the spark was back. I could sense it; feel it, but I couldn’t make the move. I couldn’t be the one to kiss him. He had to believe this was his choice, his idea, because I knew when he kissed me he’d be mine again.
I forgive you, Charlie, and I love you,” I said, my heart somersaulting as he wrapped his hand around my head, fingers clenching in my long red locks as he pulled my face to his, resting his forehead against mine. My heart hammered through my chest, wanting, waiting, needing him to kiss me as those full soft pink lips brushed mine and I knew we were there, back where I needed to be as a huge wave of relief flooded over me. It was Charlie. It had always been Charlie.
The kiss lasted an eternity. His tongue gently exploring my mouth, slowly, tentatively as wonderful and intoxicating as the very first time we’d kissed. Better. There was more feeling, more love in my heart than I had every felt for anyone as I weaved my fingers through his hair, moaning gently and leaning into him, giving myself as completely and as openly as I was able. Gradually he grew more frantic and I responded with everything I had. I needed him more than the very air I breathed right now. He was hurting, he was sad and confused; for me, his father, the brother who had never betrayed him and I wanted him to know it was okay. I would take care of him now. He was mine.
He pulled back suddenly and I knew from the look on his face that he wasn’t sure whether he’d just made a huge mistake, lifting off the soft sweater as he eyes ran slowly over the curves of my breasts, encased in sheer red lace as his breath hitched, eyes darting to mine. I moved my fingers to his hair and pulled him back in. He would not walk away now, I couldn’t let him, standing and removing my jeans, straddling him and claiming him as he ran his hands over my silky smooth skin, omitting the most primal groan from deep in his throat as I massaged his lips with mine.
“I can’t do this, Scarlett,” he said, pulling away suddenly as my face contorted in shock, anger and frustration. I tried to rein it in. He was warring with himself as I stood, letting his gaze roam slowly over my almost naked body. Now was the time to get my head into gear if I wanted this to happen. He’d been wavering before the break-up; it was why I’d booked Paris and why I’d bought the watch. I’d had to know what was on his mind, what the threats were and who was putting a wedge between us. I’d suspected it was Silus, but I hadn’t been sure. I couldn’t let him remember that. He had to remember the good times.
I ran my gaze over his body, the unmistakeable bulge in his trousers letting me know that at least he was enjoying the view, and that was what I’d have to work on; push away the doubts in his brain and let his body do the talking. “Don’t you want me, Charlie,” I asked in the most seductive voice I could muster, crawling back over his knees and lifting his hands to my breasts, moaning softly at the contact as his breathing sped up. His eyes were focused on those firm hands, running across the soft red fabric as my nipples hardened beneath his touch.
“It’s not that, Scarlett. It’s just that things have changed, they aren’t so straightforward,” he said, groaning through clenched teeth and trying to force back his need. I eased forward, opening my thighs wider and resting myself against his cock, straining through the fabric of those black suit trousers he had worn to the funeral as my fingers worked on the buttons of his soft white shirt. “I need to love you, baby. You need to be loved tonight,” I whispered, undoing them slowly, one by one, running lacquered fingers over his hard muscular skin, groaning in appreciation as his eyes clouded with passion.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, lifting me off him and throwing me roughly back on the sofa, discarding his shirt, undoing his pants as he pulled off my thong quickly and roughly, burying himself inside me as I cried out loud, flooded with ecstasy and need. Whatever self-control he’d been pulling on, he’d lost it now.
He grazed his teeth across my nipples, firm hands exploring my skin as he thrust himself deeper and deeper inside me. It was hot, hard and hurried; as needful and desperate as I had ever known him and I responded with every cell of my being to let him know I needed it every bit as much as he did.
His cock was powerful, even bigger than I remembered, lighting me up with each solid thrust, tears falling with each cry of his name as he claimed me and made me his once again. I grabbed him tightly, long nails raking across his back as he arched above me, groaning from deep in his throat. “Fuck, Scarlett, I need this,” he cried and I knew how he felt. It was a release, a powerful liberation of the pent up emotions – the grief, the hurt, the pain and the devastation and I would take him and calm him, soothe him and love him until my bed was the only place he longed to be.
I felt the waves of pleasure mounting, almost overwhelming me with their sudden onslaught as I cried out “Baby, I’m coming.” His response was an increase in speed, in pressure, in the expert movement of his hips as my body clenched around his, muscles contracting in an uncontrolled explosion of pleasure as my orgasm gripped me. Pure ecstasy raced through every cell as he shuddered and stopped, arching his back and holding my gaze as he emptied his hot wet liquid cum inside of me. “I love you,” I whispered as he closed his eyes, collapsing against me as wetness seeped across my chest. We lay there silently as I stroked his hair, breathing synchronised and shallow and I knew that Charlie was crying.
I ran soft fingers across his back, stroking his hair as he lay still inside me, letting him know I was here, an outlet for his pain, the source of his joy and everything he would ever need me to be. “I’m sorry,” he breathed as I tightened my grip, his sobs harder and harder as I closed my eyes.
“I forgive you,” I whispered over and over until they finally subsided.
*
Can’t wait for Charlie?
Check out more erotic romance novels from L.J. Dee:
KING
By L J Dee
King. He wore the name well. Marketing royalty, inherently arrogant with a supreme confidence that could only come with an inflated sense of self worth. Infuriatingly gorgeous, worshipped by his devoted band of subjects and the bane of my professional life. God I hated Jason King.
Charlotte Smith is at the peak of her profession and on the verge of realising a long harboured dream. Few people know what she’s endured just to get here and one in particular seems determined to stop her.
When beautiful and brilliant CEO playboy Jason King strides into her life, Charlotte’s world is thrown into absolute turmoil as his need for control and her steely resolve collide with an intense passion she just didn’t envisage. Pulled further into the dark desires of the handsome enemy who stirs her so deeply, she knows she has to protect the heart that beats within her. A heart that has never known love.
What happens when the man you loathe becomes the man you can’t live without?
King is a full length novel depicting adult scenes including BDSM, and is recommended for over 18’s
**
Utterly Sluttily
(A funny erotic romance novel)
By L.J. Dee
Everything happens for a reason.
Every cloud has a silver lining.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
Bo!!*cks.
At least that’s what I thought as I boarded the plane - miserable, humiliated and absolutely furious. I’d always done what was expected of me, followed the rules and been a good girl. School, work, the apartment, the almost-husband and where had it got me?
Here...a place where no sane individual would want to dwell.
I’d heard every cliché in those last few hours and I wasn’t about to become a walking one. Lao-Tzu once said that ‘a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step’ and this was my journey. According the screen on the back of the seat it was 4255 miles
and it started with a complimentary eye mask and two miniature bottles of airline house white, but the principal was the same.
It was simple. I had two options. Cry into my ‘something old’; a Victorian lace handkerchief that had belonged to my grandmother, or start something new. So with the theme from Rocky playing in my head, I drew on the wisdom of that old Chinese philosopher and decided on the latter.
At that precise moment I had no idea just what a journey of self-discovery it would turn out to be, or one that I’d embark on and embrace quite so...utterly sluttily.
Looking back now, they’d been right after all.
Everything happens for a reason.
Every cloud has a silver lining.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
I added the last one later. It’s good to be bad.
When Daisy Delaney is dumped at the altar, she has no idea just how far reaching the consequences of her subsequent meltdown will be. Hot-footing it on her honeymoon to escape the humiliation and the horrors unfolding on You Tube, Daisy decides to reclaim her life and re-write the rules for jilted brides everywhere.
In a resort of sun, sea, sand, solid abs and strawberry daiquiri, she soon realises that when she sheds her ‘good girl’ tag and decides to behave utterly sluttily that just about anything can happen.
Through a series of steamy encounters and sexual firsts, Daisy is thrust into a whirlwind journey of recovery and self-discovery, until a beautiful stranger offers her lessons in liberation that she’ll never forget.