by Demi Damson
He grinned. “Not sure you can keep up.”
“Give me three minutes.”
“Two.”
She rolled out of bed and threw on a tight tank top, sadly covered by faded old sweat shirt and some baggy sweat pants. They certainly didn’t match his hopeful mental image of her in skin-tight latex. She looked... well, a bit like Rocky Balboa, if he was honest. She looked fearless, ready to take on the world. He crossed the room in two sure strides and pulled her to his chest. “You are beautiful. I could eat you alive.” He nibbled on her ear lobe to prove his point.
Her warm and curvy body squirmed against him in ways that made him want to forget all about his morning run. Instead, he should throw her on the bed and take off those ratty old clothes that she’d brought with her to Haven for some unknown reason and touch every inch of her body again.
“Unhand me, you brute,” she said, laughing. “I’m trying to get my shoes on.”
“We could try a different kind of work-out...”
“You still think I wouldn’t be able to keep up.” She glared at him. “You can at least give me a chance to prove myself.”
“OK, OK.” He let go, one finger trailing reluctantly along her arm as she turned and grabbed her running shoes.
She bent over to tie them up and then turned and grinned at him. “HUP two three four!” She shoved him out the door. Which was a good thing, if he was honest, because he was on the verge of tossing her into the bed and pinning her beneath him until breakfast time.
They’d only gone a few blocks when he took pity on her. Her form was well, nonexistent, and she was pink in the face and panting. “Are you alright? We can take it easy.”
“I’m fine. Tell me about the people coming tonight,” she said.
He grinned. She wasn’t making conversation, she was trying to slow him down and distract him, he was pretty sure. But if it gave him an excuse to keep running with her, he’d talk.
“Well, next to us, there’s the Millers. They’ve been around since I can remember. He’s made his money in pharmaceuticals.” He gave her a rundown of the families in every house as they ran past, who they were, what the gossip was.
She was clearly struggling to keep up, but she kept nodding and smiling. She wasn’t going to be the first to say they had to stop. He kept his pace slow—he could sprint another day, when he was on his own—and acted like this was his standard run.
Even so, about halfway round she stopped laughing at his stories and started staring straight in front of her, as if willing herself to keep going.
As they ran up to the playground, he steered her towards the drinking fountain. Half of him wanted to call it off, tell her that she didn’t have to keep going, they could walk home. But he knew she’d be unhappy that she couldn’t keep up. To his relief, he saw Mrs. Butrey walking Bitsy, her hyperactive Pekinese. “I’m really sorry,” he said to Charlotte, “but I’ve not seen her in ages. I need to run over and say hello. Do you mind waiting for just a minute?”
She waved him on, heading for the fountain. “Feel free, its fine.” She held herself up on the edge. “I just need to stretch a minute,” she half-said, half-gasped.
He grinned and jogged over to Mrs. Butrey, who exclaimed with delight and gave him a big hug. “Who is this young lady, Jordan? You seem to be trying to kill her,” she said, looking over at poor Charlotte still trying to catch her breath. Bitsy licked his running shoes and then made a face and sneezed.
“She thought she could keep up with me,” he whispered. “Keep talking, I’m trying to give her a chance to recover.” Charlotte tried to sip daintily from the water fountain and then appeared to give up and started splashing water all over her face.
“She sure looks like she’d give you a run for your money,” grinned Mrs. Butrey. “Don’t you run her feet off of her, you hear? She looks a lot better for you than those glossy girls you usually go out with.”
“Well, I never,” he said, pretending to be offended. Mrs. Butrey had a reputation as being rude but he knew it was just that she spoke her mind. She didn’t have much time for dressing things up. “Anyway, you haven’t even spoken to her.”
“She’s put on clothes for exercising in, not for showing off in. She’s run as hard as she possibly could, rather than trying to make sure her hair and makeup are ok. That’s the kind of woman who will get the job done, not buckle under pressure. Much like you in those big offices of yours.” She tapped his chest. “That’s the kind of partner you need, young man. Not some pretty hot house flower who will wilt in the first rainfall.”
“Are you saying poor Charlotte isn’t pretty? Hey, Charlotte, come here!”
“Don’t you be starting trouble, you aren’t so big that I can’t... well, yes, you are that big.” Mrs. Butrey’s eyes were twinkling. “You’re a good boy, Jordan. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. Especially not George. He wouldn’t know good if it bit him on the nose. Tell him I said hello, will you?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Butrey. I will.”
He jogged back to Charlotte who was taking one last drink from the fountain. “That was Mrs. Butrey. She was my third-grade teacher, before I went to boarding school. She was already tough as nails then. No one got away with anything in her class. Half the town isn’t speaking to her because she refuses to age gracefully. They think she should knit socks and attend flower arranging classes.”
“But she stays here anyway?”
He shrugged. “Yes, that’s Mrs. Butrey all over. Stubborn as a mule. Anyway, I’m sorry for holding things up.” He looked her over. Her chest wasn’t heaving anymore and her face had lost most of the pink. He wanted to lick the sweat off of her neck.
“C’mon, let’s head back.” He ran off, embarrassed that he couldn’t actually look at her without wanting to ravish her. It was like being sixteen again.
She caught up. “You are getting slower. Feeling it a bit?” And with that, she jogged past him. He upped his speed to catch up.
“If it’s too much for you, just say!”
“Oh, don’t you even.” They raced for the homestretch, laughing and calling each other names. As they came up to the house, she collapsed on the lawn. “I am completely finished.”
“You are completely adorable,” he said, stretching out on the grass next to her. She blushed. He took her face in his hands and turned her face towards him. “It’s true. I totally adore you.” And then he kissed her before he could say anything else stupid.
Chapter Twenty–Five
Are Strawberries An Aphrodisiac?
Back in the bedroom, Charlotte struggled to keep her eyes off him. He was still unshaven, his hair pointing everywhere. She jumped into the shower and then got out of it again quickly while he was still stripping: the thought of his wet soapy body joining her in there was too much to bear. She threw her outfit on quickly, interrupted by Jordan tugging her to him repeatedly. As tempting as it was to hide in the room all morning, they were already late for breakfast. “We need to get down there. What would your parents think?”
“Please don’t refer to them as my parents.” He visibly shuddered. “Anyway, we’re engaged, remember. They already think we’re sleeping together every chance we get.”
“But we haven’t missed a meal yet,” she countered. Her heart sank at the idea of the engagement party tonight. That was going to be difficult to get through. Still, with Jordan at her side, she thought she might be able to do it. Right now, she felt like she could clear buildings in a single bound.
It’s amazing what getting laid could do for a woman. She kissed Jordan again, enjoying the rough feel of his chin against her cheek, and then tugged him out the door. “Come on!” There was no way she was going to make a bad impression just hours before the party.
Apparently, it was already too late to make a good impression. It was pretty clear what Lauren thought about them. The shared glances and touching under the table were not lost on her and she glared at both of them under low lashes. Charlotte fe
lt sorry for her. It must be hard work being brittle and jealous all the time. She just smiled sweetly at her and chattered about the weather, swatting Jordan’s hand away from her thigh.
Jordan’s father joined them late, having had an early golf game before breakfast. “Senator Clooney’s gonna do great things for this place,” he announced. “We’ve been talking all morning about that wasted marshland over by the reservation. I think you should get in touch with him.”
“It’s green belt, isn’t it?” Jordan’s hand snuck back over to Charlotte’s thigh. Her eyes widened as his fingers trailed down her, her skin so sensitive even under her clothes that it seemed like his fingers might be electrified. She smacked his hand away and he winked at her.
“Well, that’s the point, it’s just sitting there.” It took Charlotte a moment to tune into the conversation.
Jordan was much better at multi-tasking than she was. “Just sitting there? Really? You know, it’s a protected area for a reason. I mean, you don’t actually have to build on every piece of land you can get your hands on.”
“It’s a waste. Someone is going to make money out of this and it may as well be us.” He thumped his coffee cup to the table. “I always made sure you were looked after but it’s made you soft. You aren’t hungry enough, Jordan. You’re happy to settle for what you’ve got. But mark my words, you have to stand on your own two feet someday.”
Charlotte tensed. She reached under the table and squeezed Jordan’s hand, glad he was standing up to his father. Jordan was totally different from his father. She thought all rich people were the same and especially all Lovetts, but that just wasn’t true.
Jordan held her hand and took a deep breath before changing the subject. “I thought I might take Charlotte to the market. Maria needs strawberries to go with the fruit cocktail.”
Lauren scowled. “Why can’t Maria go?”
“I’d really like that,” said Charlotte, her stomach flipping over slightly at the thought of grocery shopping with Jordan, even if it was at some swanky farmer’s market that probably charged a month’s salary for an apple.
He rewarded her with a smile and a squeeze of her hand. “We can walk there if you like.”
Lauren huffed but George Lovett didn’t seem to care much. “Frederick can drive you there. Or Maria can do the shopping, that’s what she’s paid for.”
“It’s a lovely day for a walk,” said Charlotte.
“It’s over a mile away.”
“It’ll take about an hour,” said Jordan. “Frederick can meet us there, drive us back,” he said to George, who seemed to be somewhat mollified by this.
The sun warmed her skin as they walked through the garden. Charlotte could feel Lauren staring at her from the big bay windows as they head for the bicycle path that led to town. Charlotte didn’t care; she felt invincible. The toxic atmosphere of the house couldn’t hurt her. And she would still make sure George Lovett got his comeuppance. It was just such a relief to see evidence Jordan was different, that she wasn’t just fooling herself.
Jordan took Charlotte’s hand as they turned the corner, out of view of the mansion, acting as if it were just an everyday thing. And for sure, it wasn’t the first time they’d held hands but it was the first time that it was clearly just for them, not for anyone else’s benefit. Charlotte smiled and squeezed his. Everything was different now and it made her happy.
Jordan smiled down at her. He’d shaved and combed his hair after breakfast and looked very presentable, reminding her of the portrait they published in the paper. She much preferred him first thing in the morning, maybe because she was the only one who got to see him like that. Imperfect. Vulnerable.
They did the shopping hand-in-hand, Jordan haggling over the price of strawberries like it was a serious business negotiation, much to the amusement of both Charlotte and the stall keeper. He eventually made a deal involving three pounds of strawberries and a free watermelon and handed over ten bucks. “Keep the change,” he said, in case there was any doubt at all that he was serious.
“You are the strawberry king,” pronounced Charlotte.
As they picked up their haul, he put his arm around her and pulled her close to him. “You bring out the best in me,” he said.
She leaned into him. “I’m really glad we...” she said.
He didn’t even need her to finish the sentence. “Me, too. I love being with you.” There was a slight hitch in his voice.
“Me, too.” She got up on tiptoes and kissed him. “Maybe we should go back to the house?”
“And mess up the bed sheets one more time?” He laughed. “I think that’s a fantastic idea.”
She shook her head. “We can’t spend all day in the bedroom. But it’s a beautiful day. Do we have to call to be picked up? Couldn’t we just walk? I’ll carry the strawberries.”
“And leave me with the watermelon? Typical! And besides, how would I hold your hand?”
She rolled her eyes. Then she put the bag of strawberries into her other hand and slipped her hand into his. As they walked back to the house, Mrs. Miller leaned out the window and waved. “I heard your good news! You look pleased as punch, young Jordan.”
He beamed back at her. “I am, I really am.”
Charlotte knew they were talking about the fake engagement but the joy on his face looked real. She found it difficult to believe he could possibly feel as happy as she did. It was only for one magical weekend, she knew that. She couldn’t possibly carry on, even if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d find out who she really was. But the fact that it would be over soon, like Cinderella when the clock rang midnight, only made it more special.
Chapter Twenty–Six
On Top Of The World
Jordan wanted to hold Charlotte’s hand forever. He’d never felt that way about anyone before but there was something about her that drilled straight through to his best self. He was used to women who expected gold and diamonds. Charlotte just wanted strawberries and sunshine. Sure, she’d had to make some tough choices, that was obvious. She put herself out there with her heart on her sleeve, holding nothing back. He knew who she was underneath. And he could help her. She never had to sell herself again.
As they approached the house, she held back. When he looked at her, she was looking towards the woods out back. “Let’s disappear.”
He couldn’t blame her for being uncomfortable in the house. Any opportunity to steal some more time with her was a bonus from his point of view. They left the berries on the porch and walked to the woods behind the house. Sure enough, once they were hidden by the trees, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. She was definitely worth being late home for.
“But we can’t stay out too long,” he said, reaching around her waist to hold her close to him. “We’ll miss lunch.” And then he lost the power of speech, caring about nothing other than to keep kissing her.
She arched her body against his. “I’m not hungry. Besides, there’s always someone around in your dad’s house.” Her breath was soft against his ear. “I thought we could maybe hide out here this afternoon, away from everyone. I promise I’ll be social for the party.”
He stroked her back. “Sure we can.” He could deny her nothing. “I know the perfect place. It’s only about 10 minutes’ walk.” He hesitated. “If that’s alright with you? I mean, we’ve walked a lot already, if you don’t want to, I don’t mind.”
“Stop arguing with yourself and take me there.”
They walked hand-in-hand along the old dirt trail until they reached the raised hide built of rough logs at the top of a long ladder. “A hunter’s stand. It’s not deer season, there won’t be anyone about. I used to sit in it and hope to see the deer but I never did. You have to be here at the right time.”
“And I suspect you have to be a lot more patient than you were as a boy.”
“I’m still impatient now,” he growled, tugging her body against his and running his hands over her hips and ass. She pushed a
gainst him in response. “Come up with me. We’ll see anyone coming long before they get to us.”
She climbed up the ladder. He tried not to stare as he climbed up behind her. Once he reached the top, his self-control was spent. He pulled her close to him and started unbuttoning her blouse. His fingers trembled with need. Every moment around her just made him want her more. He tugged at her waistband, wishing there were less buttons and zippers on her clothes. “This is a lovely outfit you are wearing today,” he said as he knelt at her feet to take her pants off of her, feeling bad that he’d not mentioned it before. And then he told the truth. “It’s even lovelier on the floor.”
She laughed and knelt down across from him. She began unbuttoning his shirt, her fingernails dragging against his chest as she went for the next button. He froze, his eyes on her, a small shiver every time she ran her fingers over his chest. As she finally got to the last button, he shrugged off the shirt, letting the winter air chill his skin.
She dropped to her knees to undo his pants. He stood up to make it easier, trying to ignore that his knees had turned to jelly. He opened the hide window and kept half an eye out in case anyone was approaching. She looked up at him as she unfastened his buckle and zipper and the lust in her eyes made his heat lurch. His cock sprung free as she tugged his shorts down and he lifted his feet to be clear of the clothes. He reached for her shoulders to pull her up but then he felt her tongue slip along his shaft and he forgot everything else. There was nothing in the entire universe but Charlotte and his desperate need for her not to ever stop what she was doing right now.
She took him into her mouth and he was enveloped by her warm wet tongue and lips. Jordan groaned, worried once again how long he was going to last. It had never been a problem before. But this woman. Her body, her mouth, her curves, everything about her set him alight. She bobbed her head, taking him all the way in.
“Charlotte.” He wasn’t sure if he was begging her to slow down or to not ever stop. She didn’t listen to him anyway, continued to lick and suck at his shaft until he knew he was only seconds away. “Please,” he begged again. “I can’t take much more.”