Then, his fingers became rougher on her clit, and his strokes more jerky. She could feel the powerful muscles in his body tensing, his own climax imminent. He stalled, then started again on a low groan, and she came just a second after him, both of them shaking with the pleasure of it.
She returned to herself some minutes later, to find she was flat on her belly with Ethan next to her on his side, one hand lazily stroking along her spine. She turned her face toward him.
His smile was somehow both feral and lazy at the same time, and it raised the little hairs all over her body. Warning. Anticipation. Both at once.
“Every single secret,” he whispered.
Except one, she told herself, closing her eyes in case he might see it there. Her most tightly held secret, the one locked away deep, deep in her heart…
That she was the biological mother of Ethan Archer’s son.
Chapter 8
Early Monday morning, Ethan found Charlie in the kitchen standing at the granite countertop as she filled a coffee mug. He came up behind her, his body flush with hers, and pressed his mouth to her temple.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.” She instantly melted against him, and the caveman in him wanted to celebrate the conquest. With a short pounding of his fists on his chest. Or more leisurely exercise in his bedroom upstairs.
“Let’s tell Wells today,” he said. “We can go shopping for a ring this morning, have a nice lunch then take him out for ice cream and engagement announcing after school.”
“It’s too soon,” she said, scuttling away from him. “And you said you’d go along with whatever I decided.”
Drunk on her scent and sex, he would have agreed to anything. Saturday morning, upon awakening, he’d spent long minutes watching her sleep, accustoming himself to having a woman share his bed after so long. Then he’d kissed her out of slumber, and they’d explored once again that fierce attraction they felt for each other.
“I’m still going along,” he said now, setting aside the full mug she handed over. “But I didn’t promise not to try to persuade you to my way of thinking.”
She gave him a quick glance over her shoulder as she poured her own coffee, her eyes widening at what must be an intent expression on his face. “Ethan…”
“Charlie…” he whispered, and took her mug from her hand. “Let me buy you a ring. Something as beautiful as you are.” He drew her into his arms.
“Wells might see,” she hissed, struggling to free herself from his hold, though not with much effort.
“We can hear him and the invisible water buffalo herd that travels with him coming down the stairs. In the meantime…” He bent his head, kissed her. “I missed you in my bed last night.” Another kiss. “And Saturday night.” A third kiss. “This morning.”
She slid her arms around his neck. “I missed you too,” she said.
He hitched her closer with an arm around her hips. “Say, yes, Charlie.”
“I’ve already said yes. But I’m not going ring shopping this morning.”
That sounded firm. He narrowed his gaze. “Are you having doubts?” Without thinking, his hold on her tightened.
“No.” Her eyes slid from his, and a blush warmed her cheeks. “I was able to get a doctor’s appointment this morning. I know the receptionist, and there was a cancellation.”
Of course his butler knew the receptionist. He pressed a palm to her forehead. “Are you not feeling well?”
She brushed his hand away. “I’m interested in going on birth control.”
He blinked. “Oh. Right.”
Leave it to Charlie to think of practical matters. When she moved to break free of his arms again, he let her go and watched her move about the kitchen, preparing breakfast and lunch for his son.
Birth control. Yes. For now. But later…would they have more children? Did she want any of her own? She was so good with Wells, it would seem so.
But not now. Now was the time for them to solidify the small family they had already. Which made the box of prophylactics he’d found in his medicine cabinet particularly fortuitous.
“Charlie,” he said. “Why do I happen to have fresh condoms?” He’d checked the expiration date. “They’ve been there for months.”
“I wanted you to have some.”
His eyes widened. “You wanted me to have some sex?”
“I stock your bathroom with your favorite soap, shaving lotion, and deodorant, don’t I?”
“But…” He tried wrapping his head around it. “On your trips to the drugstore you were thinking of me having sex?”
Her cheeks had turned a brighter pink. “It was something we were taught at butler school. In a household that holds or hosts adult males, there should always be condoms on hand.” She crossed to the refrigerator.
He caught her by the arm and yanked her to him again. His mouth traveled across her cheek to her ear, and he felt her quiver. “On your trips to the drugstore you were thinking of me having sex.”
Before she could respond, they heard the clatter of feet coming down the stairs. She stepped out of his embrace then sent him a look under her lashes as Wells tore into the kitchen.
“I ordered them from Amazon,” she said, in her most prim and proper butler voice.
He laughed and settled down for breakfast with his son. Charlie continued bustling about in her usual efficient way, and he told himself to stop staring at her tan legs, bared by a simple knee-length skirt, and the press of her pretty breasts against the cotton top she wore, its color matching her eyes.
No need to slaver over the woman, he told himself, forcing his gaze to the newspaper spread on the table. Soon enough, he’d have her again. Soon enough, she would be bound to him in marriage.
He could wait before claiming her in front of the world.
The rest of the morning went by smoothly. Charlie offered to drop Wells at school—often his task to do when he wasn’t traveling—on the way to her appointment. He managed to sneak another kiss to her lips behind his son’s back.
“You make me feel like I’m doing something wrong,” he complained when she sent him a censuring look. Because, God, it felt so damn right. Charlie, his. Charlie, for him and for Wells.
He dropped by his office, took care of the few pressing matters, then returned to Malibu. Despite school having started in the Southland, the weather proclaimed high summer. He drove along the Pacific Coast Highway with the windows down and the salty breeze cooling the sun-heated air.
The sense of playing hooky only added to his buoyant mood. When was the last time he’d felt this great? Clearly he’d been spending too much time in the office. He might have to contact his best pal to give him credit for his advice.
And also communicate that John’s interest in Charlie was now permanently shut down.
Though she’d made Ethan promise not to share about their marriage plans just yet.
Instead of brooding over her decision to delay, when he got home to the empty house he decided to call his parents for a video chat. In his office, he settled in his leather chair and fired up the laptop.
As usual, it took his dad a while to set up his end. Ethan shook his head as the view changed wildly, and he spent several seconds gazing upon the tropical upholstery of his parents’ couch before it changed again to show his father’s tanned face.
“Looking good, Dad,” he said, though it struck him every time how quickly the older man had aged.
Time didn’t stand still, he thought, and no one was immune to its effects. For the last four years, Ethan had experienced unsettling dreams in which he was hit by a car and killed as he crossed the street, and Wells was left to the care of his elderly parents—who were loving but without the energy to handle a small boy.
But there was Charlie now, his wingman, so he shook off the lingering foreboding and addressed his father again. “Where’s Mom?”
“She’s taking a class on how to make sushi,” he said, blinking at Ethan through hi
s bifocals. “How’s our boy? His wrist healing okay?”
“I’m sure he’ll nearly be as good as new when you visit in October. And he’s looking forward to his big birthday bash next week.”
“That’s good,” Ed Archer said. “Your mom sent packages. They’ll reach you in time.” Then he moved closer to the camera, squinting. “What’s different about you? You get a haircut? Had one of those metrosexual facials or something?”
I got laid. But Ethan suppressed the urge to overshare. “No metrosexual facial, Dad. Maybe it’s that big business deal I wrapped up. A lot of weight’s now off my shoulders.”
“Well, good.” The older man sat back. “How’s my favorite girl in the world, our Charlie?”
She’d attained favorite girl in the world status by suggesting on the last visit that Ethan take his dad to a classic car exhibit that happened to be in town. Though it might have been the favored shirts she’d managed to find for James online—his go-to store in Honolulu no longer carried them.
“She’s fine, and—” Ethan began, and then stopped as the woman in question arrived in the doorway. He could only stare at her, as if seeing her for the first time. And maybe it was close to that, because this was the first time he’d seen her since she’d visited the doctor—a trip designed with their joined future together in mind.
So lovely, he thought. Her bright eyes, elegant cheekbones, and that sweet, lush mouth just made for a man to develop a hankering for messy kisses, rough kisses, tender kisses, every kind of kiss from sweet to dirty. His groin went heavy as he wondered how soon they could dispense with condoms, and he’d be able to drive into her wet heat with nothing between them.
“Ethan?” his dad said, pulling him from his reverie.
He shook his head, then lifted his hand to beckon the butler closer with his finger. “Why don’t you talk to Charlie yourself?”
Pushing back his wheeled chair with his heels, he made a place for her between his seated body and the desk. “Say hi to Dad, Charlie.”
Wearing a tentative smile, she obeyed. Though she angled the laptop screen, she had to slightly bend forward to align the camera with her face. Ethan’s gaze dropped to her hemline, the back of her skirt rising higher to reveal more inches of bare, tanned thigh.
Bowing to impulse, he let one fingertip find the warm skin at the back of her leg. He traced it upward, ignoring the sudden stiffening of her muscles. God, he wanted to lick her there, taste her silky skin everywhere. He’d delve between her thighs, wiggle his tongue through her pleated flesh until her juices poured onto his tongue, the flavor of her filling his mouth.
“I don’t know,” he heard Charlie say, as if from some great distance. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“What?” He blinked, pulling himself free of the deepening haze of lust.
His butler shifted so he could see the laptop and his father’s face. “What’s wrong with you, Ethan?” his dad asked.
“Uh…” It wasn’t as if he was going to tilt the laptop so the camera could catch his cock, thick and throbbing beneath his favorite khakis.
“You need to find Charlie a nice young man,” his dad admonished. “She’s too pretty and too special to stay unattached.”
“I completely agree, Dad,” he said, glancing up at Charlie.
Damn woman shook her head.
“Don’t tell,” she mouthed.
“I’m going to find her someone very soon,” he promised his father.
Checking the clock, he brought the call to an end. “It’s near time to pick up Wells,” he said, and made his goodbyes as Charlie exited the room.
She had her tote bag of Book Fair materials at her feet when he slipped behind the steering wheel. He glanced over, then touched her knee. “Everything go okay with the doctor?”
“Yes.” She hesitated, her gaze on her lap. “I got a shot, and I’ll need a follow-up injection every three months. Also…”
“Hey,” he said as she continued to hesitate. “Don’t be shy. This is about us, for us. Tu casa es mi casa and all that.”
That surprised a laugh out of her, and her gaze lifted to his, her blue eyes bright with amusement. “Did you honestly just tell me my house is your house?”
He grinned. “Made you laugh, right? Now what else should I know?”
“Since it’s within seven days of my last period—” Her cheeks flamed. “—we’re uh, good to go without any other form of protection starting now.”
His head dropped back to thump against the rest, and he groaned, testosterone flooding his system. He felt his bones harden, his muscles bulking up at the prospect of Charlie’s wet pussy swallowing his bare cock. “You had to tell me that at this moment, when we’re poised to pick up the six-year-old.”
“And when we have to get to school early so I can snag more Book Fair volunteers.” She straightened her spine, her posture butler-perfect. “So let’s go.”
He noticed the hint of a smile on her face. Witch. She was enjoying this. “What if I swear to take all the unfilled slots,” he said quickly. “We could go inside for a quickie—”
Her gaze swiveled to his, and he dove into the bottomless blue. Shit. It couldn’t be a quickie. Not this time, the first time without a latex barrier.
On another groan, he started the car and began backing out of the garage. “Prepare yourself, baby. The next night we have together you’re not going to be able to walk the next morning.”
“We have an agreement—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he muttered, disgruntled.
They’d decided not to spend the night together again—not risk getting caught together by Wells—until they’d explained to him the new situation, and he had a chance to process it. Until his boy understood that Charlie was to be his dad’s wife.
The timing of that had been left to her discretion.
Good God, he’d been too long out of the male-female game. He seemed to be handing over every one of the cards to her.
It took him the entire drive to the school to get his rampaging lust under control. Longer than it should have because he’d indulged himself for a quarter-mile in imagining him requiring she sit beside him without the benefit of panties. Christ, after four years of a nearly frozen libido, he was making up for lost time.
Charlie didn’t come off as particularly experienced—she’d practically said so—which meant he’d have to overcome her shyness if he wanted her to let him enact some of the filthy fantasies she’d been inspiring.
And the way to overcoming her shyness was in ceding to her wishes. Hell.
At the school, he carried her tote for her and helped her set up the book fair table. Other parents wandered through the gates to gather in knots and exchange casual conversation as they waited for the final bell. A well-pressed man sidled up to Ethan and started a little friendly dialogue. He responded politely, and the other guy finally wandered away.
Ethan strode over to Charlie. “It’s a first. I’ve actually been propositioned by another man.”
She gazed at him wide-eyed. “Did you tell him you’re not gay?”
“I want to tell everyone I’m unavailable,” he growled, glancing over her head. “Because here comes that eagle-eyed huntress Margo Neal.”
“Not yet,” Charlie said. “You can’t break the rules.”
Then she turned her back on him as someone at the other end of the table beckoned her.
Oh, he was so going to break rules with Charlie. She should know that by the way he’d let her watch him masturbate. And he’d make sure she liked the rule-breaking each and every time, like she had that night when she’d been warm and wet and swollen for him when he’d delved between those slender thighs.
“Ethan,” a female voice purred. He turned toward it, expecting Margo. Instead it was the blonde Piper Taylor, with her spray tan and her fake fingernails. “Just the man I wanted to see.”
“Yes?” He let his eyes wander over to Charlie. She was smiling up at another parent, a bear of a man who se
emed to be enjoying their tête-à-tête a little too much.
“I’m having a small party this coming Friday night. I was hoping you could make it. A few drinks, a little music…”
“I don’t think so,” he said absently, still watching his butler and the bear.
That primal feeling, the one that was jagged and green, tumbled around in his gut. He’d never been the jealous type, and the power of the emotion staggered him. His fingers curled into fists and he fought against the urge to yank Charlie away from the stranger. To bring her against him. To claim her.
“If it’s someone to watch Wells that you’re worried about,” Piper went on, “I’m just certain the sitter, I mean your butler is up to the job.” Her belittling tone caught his attention. “It’s what you pay her for, after all.”
Fuck. Ethan glanced over at Charlie to see that she’d tuned in to the conversation. Though her expression remained calm, he could sense her discomfort.
Fuck it. He wasn’t going to let the spiteful Piper get under the skin of the woman who was now his fiancée.
“She was my butler, Piper,” he said, raising his voice. “But now I’m happy to let you be the first to know that Charlie Emerson’s agreed to be my wife.”
Piper sucked in a sharp breath. Charlie stared at him, her expression a mix of alarm and surprise.
Ethan felt like a conqueror who’d claimed the fairest maiden in the land. In public. From the top of the highest hill.
It was as primitive as hell, and yeah, he’d gone against her rules, but he knew he’d never have a single regret for the breach.
Not the least of which was because it meant a shorter wait to get her back into his bed.
At Ethan’s loud pronouncement, Charlie felt a cold wash of dread followed by another, warmer one, of…something. A mix of pride and belonging with a splash of smugness on top. It was out now. She was marrying Ethan Archer.
From the moment he’d proposed it, she’d felt like a woman standing on a three-legged chair balanced on a wobbly table as she stretched for a high prize. A reach that could garner her a treasure beyond price but that also posed a disaster of broken and shattered things—dreams, hearts, lives.
The Secret (Billionaire's Beach Book 6) Page 12