With an action that reminded him of ripping off a plaster bandage, she threw back the sleeping bag and slipped in beside him. She lay stiff as a board with her back to him. Charlie shook his head before leaning over her to zip the tent shut. Then he lay back down.
They were both on their right sides facing the tent entrance. He put his arm over her body.
“No way.” It sounded like she was shouting she was so close. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
He counted to twenty, ten wasn’t enough.
“Think about it, sweet cakes, where am I supposed to put my arm?”
She did think.
“Fine, but no touching anywhere.”
“Like I want to.”
She made a huffing sound.
“Are you going to zip up the bag?” he asked using every tiny bit of patience he had left. Including the extra he got from heaven. She didn’t answer.
“If you don’t zip up the bag we’re both going to be really cold in an hour or two.”
“Fine!”
She shuffled around and he felt the bag tighten pulling them closer together. He could feel the length of her down his body and regretted telling her to close the bag; now they would both overheat for sure. Every single nerve ending he had was aware of her. Her hair tickled his jaw making him want to bury his face in it. She smelled of nothing more than cheap soap but it was intoxicating. It was the weirdest experience, lying there in the black darkness in silence trying not to be aware of each other.
“Go to sleep, Charlie,” Laura said wearily.
“Yeah,” he answered.
At least with Laura at his side sleep was a possibility. He smiled into the darkness as his eyelids grew heavy.
Laura knew the minute Charlie was sound asleep. It didn’t take long. A few seconds. She wished she could perform that trick. It always took ages for her to fall asleep; there was too much in her mind to allow it to shut down quickly. Tonight there was more than usual. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or insulted that Charlie had gone to sleep so quickly.
As she listened to Charlie breathing she began to relax a little. The man was like a furnace, so much for being cold in the night. Slowly, and quietly, she slipped the zip of the sleeping bag down a little to get some air in. As she moved away from Charlie his arm tightened its grip on her stomach and pulled her even closer to him. Laura held her breath. He was sound asleep and breathing deeply. It felt so good to be held, she tried to remember that it was Charlie doing the holding, but it didn’t seem to matter.
The ground was hard beneath her; as far as she could see the thin yoga mat made absolutely no difference – she could still feel every tiny bump and rock. The little tent made her feel strangely secure. As Charlie grunted and moved in his sleep, he wrapped a leg over her legs. She was effectively pinned down. The hairy skin of his muscled thigh rubbed hers, sending tingles through her. She didn’t see the harm in leaning into his embrace; he was asleep after all.
Slowly Laura snuggled back into Charlie. His arm wrapped up around her to find her hand as he pulled her tight. She could feel his heartbeat through her back - slow, solid, and reassuring. He mumbled something in his sleep as he nuzzled into her hair. It felt perfect. Laura couldn’t remember ever feeling so secure. Perhaps it was the time of night, or the fact they were both exhausted? Or the atmosphere in the tiny tent? Nothing felt real. It was as though she’d stepped out of her life for a moment and let someone else be the strong one.
As Laura drifted off to sleep, she wished the moment would never end.
Chapter Five
Charlie was dreaming. And it was fabulous. There was a naked woman writhing on top of him. She smelled like vanilla and cheap, sweaty sex - wonderful combination. He wove his fingers into her hair and pulled her towards him. Her nails bit into his shoulders making him want her more. He didn’t start with gentle teasing kisses; no he plunged into her mouth, tasting all of her. Oh man, but she was delicious. She was slow to kiss back, but when she did it blew his mind.
Waves of wanting washed over him. He ran his hands down her back to cup her behind. He vaguely wondered why she had so many clothes on. Her rear was small and firm, it fit perfectly into his hands. He held her tightly so that he could position her where he wanted her to be. So she could feel exactly how much he wanted her. A small gasp escaped her and he grunted his satisfaction. That was more like it.
Too many clothes. There were too many clothes. And it was so stinking hot in his head. He ran one hand over her hip to push her t-shirt up, tracing soft skin as he did so. Her kisses grew more desperate as his hand slid round to grasp her breast. Something about it felt familiar. He flicked his thumb over the nipple and the woman gasped as she arched her back. She ground against him, making him pant with need.
He tried to shift into a position to give her more, but there were too many barriers. He had on underwear for a start. That didn’t make any sense. He never wore underwear to bed. His feet felt trapped. Was he tied up? He tried to kick loose but it seemed to tangle him more. The air was getting heavy. And although it was dark there was a dim light coming from somewhere. It was hard to pinpoint. Something wasn’t right. Shouldn’t everything be perfect in a dream? Was this another nightmare?
The woman ran her hands down his chest making him forget about the darkness. Her mouth travelled to his neck, kissing, teasing and he forgot about his trapped feet. She flicked her tongue over his nipple and something tugged at his brain. This was familiar.
He put a hand on each side of her tiny waist to pull her up to him, so that he could taste her again. Her lips were full, and eager, and tasted better than anything he had ever tasted. He wanted her badly. All of her. Deeply. Over and over.
“Charlie,” she whispered.
He knew that voice.
Small breasts rubbed against his chest making him desperate to undress her.
“Charlie,” she groaned.
What the hell? He jerked her away from him. In the dim light he could make out the sleepy and confused features of Laura Prentice and reality hit him like a brick to the head.
“What the heck?” Laura said mirroring his thoughts. “What do you think you’re doing?”
She sat astride him.
“You’re the one on top of me,” he pointed out.
She scrambled to get off of him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Charlie thought that was a bit much, since she’d been groaning his name not ten seconds earlier.
“What did you do to me?” she hissed. “I told you to keep your hands to yourself.”
Charlie pushed up onto his elbows; he felt at a distinct disadvantage lying down while having this conversation.
“Look.” It was obvious one of them had to be the voice of reason and from the look of hysteria on her face it would have to be him. “Obviously we were both asleep and things got out of hand.”
“In my sleep?!” Her voice was high pitched. “Both of us? What are the chances of that? Are you sure you weren’t taking advantage?”
Now that cheesed him off.
“Laura, I woke up with you wiggling your backside on top of me. I was kissing you before I knew who you were. It seems obvious that the small space and the heat made the situation confusing.”
“Ha!”
“Fine, don’t believe me. The only other explanation is that you were desperate to get your hands on me and jumped me while I was asleep.”
“Like that would happen.”
“You were kissing me too.” He felt the need to point out.
“I was asleep!”
This was beginning to become offensive.
“You were hot for me. Asleep or not.”
“That is not true.”
Now he was really annoyed.
“You still are,” he told her. Even in the dim light of early morning he could make out her flushed cheeks and her heavy breathing.
“Charlie Lewis, you are the last man on earth I would be hot for.”
She turne
d away from him, but Charlie was seriously fed up now. He sat up, grabbed her shoulder and spun her around towards him. In a second his mouth was on hers. She squeaked with shock and tried to pull away, but Charlie held her as he kissed her, making his point. It didn’t take long. Laura melted against him, kissing him more passionately than she had before.
Charlie didn’t know what happened, but he did know that he wanted her and he wanted her badly. He swung her beneath him, running his hand up the length of her. Laura’s fingers worked their way down his back as she kissed him passionately. He had to know. Had to be certain. A kiss to make a point was one thing, but this was another.
“Laura,” he croaked. “Do you want this?”
Please say yes, please say yes.
“Yes,” she whispered, and then pulled his mouth back to hers; biting his bottom lip to make sure he got the message.
She didn’t need to say anything else. In ten seconds he had her t-shirt off and was working on the bra clasp when he heard a voice.
“Good Morning,” the voice called. “Wakey, wakey, I have breakfast for you.”
They stilled. Entangled in each other’s embrace.
“Hello, are you in there?”
“It’s Melinda,” Charlie whispered.
“Who?” Laura sounded dazed.
“The church lady. The one with the clothes.”
Laura let out a groan that was half way between disappointment and frustration. He understood it perfectly.
“We’re here. Give us a minute,” he called to Melinda.
They scrambled to pull on clothes, no doubt making the tent jerk as they did so. A minute later Charlie unzipped the tent as he wondered how they were going to deal with each other now. Laura didn’t look at him, but her cheeks were red.
Melinda cleared her throat. It was obvious that she was pleased they hadn’t been allowed to sleep in the church building. Charlie ran a hand through his mussed hair and smiled sheepishly. There was no explanation for this. He felt like a teenager caught making out on his mother’s couch.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Melinda stumbled over the word ‘wake’. “It’s just you wanted this bike and I had to drop it off before I went to work.”
She smiled apologetically.
“Thank you,” he said.
There was an old Dutch bike resting against a tree.
“This is for you too.”
Melinda handed him a plastic box and a flask.
“Coffee and sandwiches. Leave the containers in the church when you are finished. I hope you enjoy the rest of your trip in Holland.”
Charlie thanked her and waved her off, all the while wondering if Laura was ever going to get out of the tent. His mind was completely blank as to what to say to her. One thing was for sure; they weren’t getting back in the tent and carrying on where they left off. At last she emerged. She’d managed to pull her jeans on inside the tent.
“That was a mistake,” she said before he could say anything. “Close quarters, lack of sleep, hormones.” She counted the reasons off on her fingers. “And it’s been a very long time since I slept with anyone.”
She looked him in the eye. He’d always liked that about Laura, she was always honest no matter how much it cost her. He always knew where he stood with her.
“You woke up my libido,” she said, “sorry about that.”
He felt his eyes go wide. She was apologising for trying to have sex with him? What was the appropriate response? Thank you? Anytime? No problem? He had no idea what to say. Thankfully he didn’t have to say anything.
“Let’s forget all about it. Did Melinda say there was coffee?”
With flushed cheeks, she took the flask from his hand and poured herself a cup.
“Lovely,” she said with a sigh. “So what’s the plan for today?”
Charlie felt his mouth open and shut like some sort of hooked fish. He was Alice down the friggin’ hole. And by the look on Laura’s face she was the Hatter. There was nothing to do but join in.
“Well,” he said as he pulled out a sandwich, “first there is the little matter of you wearing what I picked out.” He looked her in the eye. “Without underwear.”
She didn’t even blink. If it wasn’t for her pink cheeks he would have thought their adventure in the tent had never happened.
“This is out of order,” Laura complained again. “This is sleazy, even for you.”
“I’m a man,” he told her making no effort not to sound smug. “You said no underwear. You said you would wear whatever I wanted you to wear – For. My. Pleasure. It was a deal. You wouldn’t shirk on a deal, would you, short stuff. I mean, if you did then I would have to think twice about keeping our other deal, the one where I give you an interview at the end of this trip.”
Although he was behind her he could imagine her grinding her teeth into dust. It made him grin. Man, but she wanted this interview badly. It was hard to take anything she said seriously when she was struggling to stay upright on her new bike. Melinda had told him it was a traditional Dutch bike; they called it an Oma Fietsen – granny bike. It was heavy, huge, had no gears or brakes. If Laura wanted to stop she would have to cycle backwards, and from the look of things that wasn’t a concept she grasped easily. Add to that the fact her toes couldn’t reach the ground and the moment was gold. It didn’t even need the clothes he’d picked out for her, that was just icing on the cake.
“This shows everything,” she huffed. “I may as well be naked.”
“That’s your call,” he told her, although he had to disagree, it didn’t show everything. That was why it was so sexy; it left a lot to the imagination.
“I was very considerate,” he told her. “I picked out the biggest item of clothing they had, just so that you wouldn’t feel exposed as you rode.”
That was enough to make her stop, which she did by slowing and falling off her bike onto the grass. She stood quickly and dusted herself off before confronting him with a scowl, hands on hips. It might even have been scary had it not been for the fact she was standing with the light behind her and he could make out the line of her figure in minute detail. His mouth watered as some part of his brain wondered at the wisdom of playing sexual games with the Iron Maiden.
“It’s transparent, moron.”
She held out one arm to show him and he grinned appreciatively. It was indeed.
“It’s a tent. You’re covered from neck, to wrist, to ankle. What’s to complain about?”
Her head went almost as orange as the paisley pattern on the sheer fabric.
“It’s a 1970’s Kaftan and it’s supposed to be worn over something.” She looked down at her body. “Like underwear.”
Charlie got off his bike and sauntered towards her. He rubbed some of the yards of fabric that swallowed her between his fingers.
“If you don’t like the consequences, don’t make the deals,” he said.
His mind was on other things, like what it would feel like to rub his hands all over her. The kaftan looked better every minute.
“When I made the deal, I thought you would put me in a halter and tiny shorts, or a boiler suit, or that wet suit I saw…”
“…there was a wet suit?”
That might have been better. The breeze caught the fabric and flattened it across her chest. He had a sudden urge to see what her nipples tasted like through the cloth. Nope, this was much better than a wet suit.
“But this?” She flapped her arms like a chicken. “At the first gust of wind it’s going to blow up and give the world a show.”
“We can only hope.”
His voice came out more of a growl than he had intended.
One swift kick to the shin and he wasn’t feeling so horny anymore.
“Grow up, moron,” she told him as she climbed back onto her bike. “You constantly act like you’re fifteen. It grates on my nerves.”
Charlie didn’t care. The sheer fabric pulled taut around her behind as she pedalled in front of him. He
could live with being immature any day.
Laura’s head hurt. She was dressed in a transparent mu mu, riding a bike built for a giant with The Neanderthal staring at her backside. Oh yeah, her head hurt all right. On top of that she was practising deep denial over what had happened in the early hours of the morning. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking, that was the problem. That was always the problem, there was something about him that sucked out her common sense and made her do rash things. Things she would regret later. She thought she’d learnt from her encounter with him years earlier, but she hadn’t. He was everything she wasn’t – he oozed sex appeal, he looked like he fell out of a poster for underwear and he was so free and easy with his life. When he wasn’t making her act irresponsibly, he was making her feel bad because she didn’t! The sooner she was away from him the better.
She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder; he spotted it and winked at her making her wobble on her bike. He had on an old pair of grey shorts and his favourite U2 t-shirt, his toffee coloured hair was dishevelled and he had a day’s worth of stubble. He was freaking Adonis. She had no doubt that there were women out there who would worship at the feet of him, if they had a chance. Dangerous. He was dangerous. He was the only person who had ever managed to get her to do something spontaneous, to do something out of her comfort zone. He was the only man who had ever made her lose control. Unfortunately, he was still the only man who could do it. And she didn’t need that. Not again. Never again. She needed an interview. That was all she wanted from Charlie Lewis. She peeked over her shoulder again. His smile made her catch her breath and her cheeks flush. She stared back at the road in front of her. Yep, she lied to herself; all she wanted from the Neanderthal was an interview to save her career.
They sat at the water’s edge with the canal behind them, looking down from the dyke and over the town. The sun was high in the sky as a ferry passed behind them.
“I like the crooked houses, do you think they worry that they might fall over?” she asked before biting into her apple.
Second Chances Boxed Set: 7 Sweet & Sexy Romances in 1 Book Page 54