Charlie's Angels

by Cheryl St. John

“I’ve only just started.”

  She figured their time could be better spent. “It’s Astrid.”

  He tipped his head. “I might have gotten around to that.”

  “Not in a million light-years, you wouldn’t have.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  She laid her hand along the side of his jaw, the texture of his skin like an aphrodisiac to her rising greed—she wanted to experience more of him and she didn’t want to wait. “But it would have taken you all night and do you really want to guess names all night?”

  “I don’t care what we do as long as you’re right here.”

  She touched a fingertip to his lower lip, remembering the pleasure of his mouth that afternoon, and leaned closer. “Surely you have some kind of preference.”

  “It doesn’t matter what subject we’re on, I always get the feeling we’re talking about sex,” he said with a seductive tilt to the corner of his mobile lips. He lowered his head until they were mere inches apart. “Not that either of us is expecting anything.”

  “Exactly.” Tilting her head, she met his lips, the sweet taste of wine mingling with the heady flavor of Charlie. She had expected something. She’d expected his kiss to unnerve her and create these tingling feelings, and she wasn’t disappointed.

  They intuitively tilted their heads to a better angle for deepened contact. Starla forgot to breathe.

  The first time she’d seen him, that night at the café, she’d recognized his intensity, and her first impression had been accurate. Charlie was a man of strong passions. She imagined what being with him would be like if he loved her, and that fantasy ignited a new fire in her being.

  Holding her head steady with both hands, he pressed damp kisses across her cheekbone, then down her neck in gently nipping bites before leisurely working his way back up to nuzzle her ear. He took his time, breathing her in and making her feel desirable and valued. The feeling was heady without being smothering and she relished it.

  Starla had been telling the truth about having had only a couple of relationships. But she’d had numerous dates and met many men who had only one thing in mind—the conquest. Their single-minded selfishness was a turnoff she’d learned to avoid in her teens, and her caution had served her well over the years.

  Whatever it was about her appearance that made people think she was aloof and self-assured was a facade. She was as vulnerable and uncertain as the next person, possibly more so, because she couldn’t be certain the attention was sincere.

  These brief moments had already increased her knowledge about Charlie. He was a rare and gifted spirit, a partner who knew lovemaking was more than joining bodies for physical release. He was a man who knew his strength and prowess and harnessed them for the sheer pleasure of foreplay.

  Charlie’s lips covered hers again, with mind-drugging pressure—not too hard, not too gently—and she shut out all other thoughts, all memories and disappointments and hopes and simply…felt. Charlie.

  Shifting her position so that her legs were to the side, she faced him. When had a kiss ever been such a magic pleasure ride? When had she ever given herself over to the simple enjoyment without demands or unease or second thoughts? When had a kiss ever been a gift rather than a deed?

  She pulled back slightly and framed his face between her hands. “Kissing you is like opening a gift, Charlie.”

  He ran his hands up her back beneath her sweatshirt, clamped them gently over her shoulders and pulled her close to nip her chin. His breath grazed her neck. “A good gift?”

  “A lovely gift. Anticipated and unexpected at the same time. Kissing you is like knowing you have a gift in your hands, but having no idea what’s inside. At that moment, anything is possible.”

  “Unless you open it and are disappointed.”

  “Don’t wreck my analogy, Charlie. I was sharing how delicious it is to kiss you.”

  “I appreciate the encouragement.”

  She kissed his jaw, the underside of his neck, opened her mouth against his skin and tasted him. He made a sound in his throat that she felt beneath her lips more than heard. His hands on her shoulders lowered to gently caress her spine. At that moment she wanted to reach for his hands and bring them forward to cover her breasts, but she didn’t want to be the one to rush. All in good time. Maybe not even “all” right away. They’d agreed to go slowly with no expectations.

  So she simply enjoyed the leisurely caresses and covered his lips with hers once more.

  His tongue traced her lower lip and she opened her mouth to accept the deepened contact. Their positions immediately seemed unsatisfactory, and Charlie had obviously felt the same because, pausing the kiss, he encouraged her to lie down. Pillowing her head with his palm, he stretched out beside her and picked up the exploration where it had been interrupted.

  Nothing with Charlie was awkward. His smiles and touches, his kisses and caresses, were devastatingly honest and unassuming and she was perfectly at ease, just as she’d been in his home and with his company ever since she’d met him. Everything with Charlie was…inflaming…stimulating…provocative.

  Charlie came up for air. “Is the floor too uncomfortable?”

  Not that she’d noticed. She shook her head.

  He kissed her again, a soul-stirring kiss that ignited her senses and spoke to her heart. He moved his weight ever so gently until his body pressed along the side of hers, and his arousal nudged her thigh. Her heart leaped with the thrill of anticipation.

  He rubbed her sock-clad foot with his, an intimately sweet caress.

  “Charlie?” she said, regretting that she had to separate them to speak to him, but needing to say what had entered her thoughts.

  “Hmm?”

  “We’re not alone in the house, you know. Are you comfortable with where we are and what we’re doing?”

  “So far. But I take it you’re not.”

  “Not really. I’m not a parent, I’m not used to having a kid in the house.”

  “Meredith sleeps like a rock, and even if she wandered out here, I don’t think seeing us kissing would damage her for life, but I appreciate your discomfort. What would you like to do?”

  “Do you want to go upstairs? Oh my, that seemed like an invitation, didn’t it? And we’re not rushing, so I didn’t mean to—”

  “Don’t overthink it, Starla. You’re just saying how you feel and there’s nothing wrong with that. I didn’t take it any other way.” He sat up and pushed to his feet, then reached for her hand. “But I don’t want to go upstairs. I’d rather we went to my room if it’s all the same to you.”

  Standing, she was grateful he pulled her close and kept her in his arms. “Sure. I mean, either one is okay with me.”

  He kissed her leisurely, then extricated himself to bank the fire and turn out the lights. Taking her hand, he led her to his darkened room, where he closed and locked the door. “Lights on or off?”

  “On,” she replied easily. “I like seeing you.”

  He hesitated only a moment before turning on a bedside lamp.

  She looked him over, from his dark rumpled hair, down the expanse of his broad sweatshirt-covered chest, across jeans with interesting creases and shadows to his feet in white socks and back up to his half smile. “What’s so amusing?”

  He shook his head. “You’re just so unexpected. A month or…or even a week ago I could never have dreamed up someone like you dropping into my life—” his voice lowered seductively “—or into my bedroom. You’re like a Christmas present, too.”

  “Charlie?”

  “When you say my name…well, it has an effect on me.”

  “I’ve never talked so much with a man.”

  “Is that okay?”

  “It’s great. With you, talk is foreplay.”

  He stepped forward and took her hands in his, raising them to his lips. “With you, looking is foreplay.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  He kissed each of her fingers, making them tingle. “Me t
hinking that you’re beautiful bothers you?”

  She hesitated. “Beauty is relative. And superficial. And sometimes an affliction.”

  “Then you admit you’re beautiful.”

  “I realize some people think I am.”

  “And you don’t want me to be one of them?”

  “I don’t want what you think of my looks to be the reason you…want me.”

  “I understand.” Her words made perfect sense. Charlie appreciated her feelings. “I think you’re the most incredible looking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, but that isn’t the only reason I’m attracted to you. Hey, if looks were everything, you wouldn’t be here with me now.”

  She framed his face with both palms. “I happen to like the way you look, too.”

  He took her hands and placed them around his waist, pulling her close. “You smell incredible. Like citrus shampoo plus something kind of powdery and feminine. I could press my nose against your neck and…” He did so, inhaling and pressing his body to hers. “And wow.”

  She sighed with what he hoped was pleasure.

  “I can’t help wondering if you smell this good all over.”

  She chuckled. “I hope so.”

  Then, as if his words had assured her, she turned her face to his and kissed him.

  “And you’re a great kisser,” he added against her lips.

  “Are you trying to assure me now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, I get it.” She released him and crossed her arms over her waist to grab the hem of her sweatshirt and in seconds pulled it off over her head to reveal a deep-rose-colored bra and creamy-looking skin. Her hair settled back across her shoulders, and Charlie’s breath hitched in his chest.

  He caressed the skin above the fabric, lowered his face and nuzzled between her breasts. She did smell that good all over.

  She was incredibly receptive and responsive to his touches, and encouraged, he reached around to her back and found the hook to unfasten her bra. She helped him slide it down her arms and it fell to the floor while he covered her rounded breasts and tested their weight and incredible softness. Her nipples were hard points against his palms.

  Starla’s eyes closed and she leaned into him, bringing her hands to the front of his shirt and grasping the fabric.

  He pressed another leisurely kiss on her welcoming lips.

  When he’d first seen her that evening at the café, he would never have guessed he’d be so fortunate as to have her in his arms like this, half-naked and returning his kisses with fiery enthusiasm. He was so hot and ready for her, he feared he’d burst with the slightest provocation.

  “Can I touch you?” she breathed against his lips.

  He had his sweatshirt off in record time and, grasping her elbows to keep her with him, backed toward his bed. He fell backward and she landed on top of him, her hair a pale curtain of cool fragrant silk against his cheek and neck.

  Straddling him, she flattened her palms and explored his chest with electrifying touches; her caresses extended to his shoulders and neck and down his belly. Charlie closed his eyes and experienced the gratification of her cool hands on his heated skin.

  She was incredible to look at and even sweeter to touch. His gaze unerringly fondled her breasts in the lamplight. His jeans and her sweatpants were a sweetly torturous barrier between them.

  He raised himself to a sitting position with Starla in his lap so he could reach her breasts. She helped by rising to her knees. With his tongue, he wet the skin, then blew on it. She drew in a breath of surprise. He treated her other breast to the same tactile delight.

  Both nipples turned to hard peaks. Starla threaded her fingers into his hair and watched him as he continued the sensual teasing. Finally he took one into his mouth and suckled.

  She rubbed her pelvis against his erection in a motion mimicking intercourse and Charlie groaned against her skin.

  She pressed him back on the mattress and took a position above him, kissing his chest and licking his nipples in a similar fashion. She brought her mouth up to his and they locked in a deep and impatient kiss.

  Pausing the contact long enough to move to his side, she skimmed off her pants and underwear in one sweep. She reached for the button of his jeans, but he brushed her hands aside to hurriedly rid himself of the barrier. Jeans, underwear and socks landed in a pile on the floor.

  Chapter Ten

  Starla took her time gazing at him from top to bottom, with a lengthy pause in the middle where she studied his erection with an appreciative expression in her clear blue eyes.

  “Can I touch you, Charlie?” she asked again.

  “You don’t have to ask. Just be forewarned that you’re playing with dynamite.”

  “Warning taken.”

  When she wrapped her fingers around him, he groaned an R-rated curse, but the language didn’t inhibit her inciting caresses.

  He couldn’t imagine anyone or anything feeling as good as Starla and her unrestrained lovemaking. He’d never known a lover to show such genuine delight in giving and experiencing pleasure the way this woman did.

  “Charlie,” she said, her voice low, but laced with concern.

  “What?”

  “We didn’t talk about something.”

  “In the bathroom,” he said, intuitively. “I’ll be right back.” He left her with a promising kiss and found condoms in a drawer.

  When he returned and tossed them onto the night table, she had stretched out and was waiting with her head propped on one hand. She was the most flawlessly beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He’d been captivated from the first moment, and now…now that he saw every glorious inch of her, now that he’d been enlightened by the knowledge of her inner beauty, as well, he didn’t know how he could be so lucky.

  Instead of lying beside her or covering her body with his as was his first instinct, he sat beside her and ran his hands over her skin, from her slender thighs to her delicate feet, up to circle her navel and knead her breasts, then moving on with attention to her shoulders and neck.

  “I love the way you smell,” she said to him. “That’s how I knew we’d be good together.”

  He touched her lower lip with one finger.

  Her tongue darted out to taste it.

  He buried his face in her hair, stroked her belly, then the tuft of pale hair below. He used his palm to cup the pad of flesh over her pubic bone and knead it.

  Starla closed her eyes and caught her lower lip with her teeth. Her nipples pebbled in hard points, and he used his other hand to stimulate them.

  Charlie slipped a finger into her slick folds and her hips rose to meet his strokes.

  She twisted toward the night table and retrieved a condom. In seconds he was sheathed and raised over her, his arms trembling with restraint. “I don’t know how long—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she assured him. “Here, let me…”

  He bit back a groan.

  “Oh, Charlie.”

  Just his name from her lips was enough to set him off. He covered her mouth with his so she couldn’t say it again and buried himself deep. So deep a shudder ran through his body.

  She gripped his shoulders hard and cradled his hips with her knees. Her body arched against his.

  “Wait,” he said.

  “No.”

  “Starla, hold still….”

  “I…I can’t.” Her breath caught in her throat. She grasped his hips and dug her nails into his flesh. She gripped him so tightly, her strength surprised him.

  “Now,” she said, “please, now.”

  She didn’t have to say please. The word at such a time made him feel humble and powerful all at once. Charlie gave himself over to the pulsation of her sweet body around him, using every last ounce of his strength to encourage her soft cries and rhythmic shudders. His own climax took him by surprise with its intensity.

  He lay with his face buried in the soft lee of her neck, her hair cool and fragrant against his face. Beneath him,
her muscles relaxed and she loosened her hold to stroke the damp skin of his hip and thigh.

  Charlie slid to the side to relieve her of his weight, but lay with his head on her shoulder and caressed her breast. “Sorry it was over so fast.”

  “Don’t.” She reached up to cover his lips with her fingers. They tasted salty. “It was perfect.”

  He moved his head to look up at her. She had been more impatient than he, so he knew her words were sincere.

  “We have plenty of time,” she said softly. “It’s a long night.”

  He felt himself stir against her thigh, surprising them both, if her raised brows were any indication.

  She smiled.

  Charlie turned his nose against her skin, inhaling the erotic scents of Starla and sex. He knew what she meant about smelling him and knowing they’d be good together. It was a totally physical and carnal reaction, but absolutely honest. Right now everything about her aroused him, even more so than before he’d known the pleasure of her mouth and hands and body.

  He urged her to her side facing away so he could nuzzle her back with his nose and mouth and caress her satiny bottom. Her backside was nicely rounded and curvy and he hadn’t paid it nearly enough attention yet. Within minutes he was kissing it, nipping the skin and stroking her thighs.

  Starla’s knees deserved a thorough exploration, as well as her slender calves and delicate feet. He discovered she was ticklish, and she wouldn’t let him touch the soles.

  He caressed his way back up her body, indulging himself in the satiny delights and moist crevices, kissing her breasts, her mouth, her collarbone, and enjoying her indulgently passive role this time. Her clear eyes were bright with passion, her lips swollen and parted, and he watched her face as he used his hands to arouse her once again.

  The sheets and blankets had been strewn onto the floor long ago, and their activity now had Starla’s head on the edge of the bed, her hair cascading off the side. Charlie climbed her body, ran his tongue up her neck and wedged his knee between her thighs.

  She wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him down for an impelling kiss. Taking hold of her, he changed their positions and planted her atop him. She sat astride, this time no clothing impairing the contact, and rubbed against him.