by Harper Sloan
“I was going to say nice outfit, Charlie, but you already seem to be enjoying it,” she teases me as I take one of the bags from her. They follow me into the kitchen and we start unpacking them.
“Oh, that? It was nothing. I’ve got to pick up some more fabric softener when I head to the store later today, and I was trying to get a feel for what scent Knox usually prefers,” I say, knowing it’s a lame excuse.
Jace chuckles as he rummages through the cabinets and pulls out a frying pan. “Lately, it’s eau de can’t shower, but I’m sure you can find something better.”
Lexi playfully punches him in the arm at his comment. “Hey, that’s not fair. He can’t help it.”
A gruff, sleepy voice fills the room. “Can’t help what?” I freeze. It’s only been a couple of minutes since I left his bedroom, and when I turn to look at him, I can’t tell if he just woke up or if he’s faking the grogginess. I’m suddenly nervous at the liberties I took when I thought he was asleep, but now that he’s avoiding eye contact with me, I’m mentally freaking out that he wasn’t exactly in a deep slumber.
“Oh, Charlie here was just trying to figure out what kind of fabric softener you like,” Jace informs him.
He finally looks at me, and I can’t read his expression as he takes in the sight of me, looking me up and down as I stand here barefoot in his kitchen, wearing his clothes. It’s unnerving the way he’s watching me, and I still can’t believe that I agreed to move in with him. I’m kind of wishing we could have this morning to ourselves to actually talk this out without Jace to butt in, but at the same time, I’m grateful for the distraction.
Still looking at me, he simply shrugs. “I usually just get whatever’s on sale. I don’t care what it smells like. Just none of that girly shit,” he informs me, and the brisk note in his tone has me wanting to run out and buy the Gain Lavender & Vanilla detergent that I love so much.
Ignoring him, I set about making a list since I always do my shopping on Sundays and I’m not going to have much when I leave Lucy’s place. She’s going to freak out when she learns who my new roommate is. Leaving them in the kitchen, I wander around the house until I find the guest bathroom, the one I figure will be mine. It’s pretty bare, so I write down all the essentials I’ll need. I check under the cabinet for cleaning supplies, and when I stand up and turn around, I run into a warm, solid chest. I have to fight the urge not to lick him once the scent of sweat and the remnants of last night’s cologne washes over me. He grabs my arms to steady me, inadvertently pulling me close, causing my chest to be pressed up against his.
“Jace said to tell you that breakfast is ready.” He drops his hands to his sides and looks down at me, giving me a sexy smirk. “And here I was thinking I’d get homemade French toast. What’s up with that?”
Tapping my chin, I place my other hand on my hips. “I believe I said if you’re lucky. Guess there really is a first time for everything,” I say playfully. “But now that we’re going to be roomies, there’s plenty of time for you be introduced to the Davenport World Famous French Toast.”
“Roomies. Right. So you’re really going to rent a room from me?” he asks, looking surprised as he rubs his hand over the top of his head.
“Sure, why not? It’ll make this easier on both of us, especially once you have to start doing physical therapy multiple times a week. We can discuss rent and all that later on when they’re gone. Sound good?”
He nods and moves to walk out the door. Before he exits, he turns to look at me. “Hey, roomie?” he calls, pausing as I look at him. A cocky grin spreads over his face as he makes it clear that he’s checking me out. “I like you in my clothes.”
And with that, he’s gone, leaving me here to lean back against the sink, more confused than ever, wondering if this is really a good idea.
ONCE JACE and Lexi finally left, Charlie was quick to follow behind them, claiming that she wanted to go ahead and get some stuff from Lucy’s, even though she has a week until she has to move out. I offered to help her, but she waved me off, telling me she was just going to grab a few changes of clothes and essentials. I made her promise to let me help her later on this week, and she consented, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the girl was crossing her fingers behind her back. I’m reminded of the other day when I tried to help with the groceries, and I’ll be shocked if she’ll actually lets me help. But what she doesn’t seem to realize is I can be just as stubborn as she is.
Charlie was so quick to get out of here that she didn’t help put my brace on, and I’m more thank thankful for it. I decide to take advantage of the freedom and enjoy a long, hot shower. Walking into the bathroom, I turn the water on before heading back to my room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I lift my hips slowly and push my fingers into the waistband of my shorts, sliding them down over my ass. I sit back down and kick them off, and I can’t help but be fucking proud that I’m finally finding ways to figure this shit out on my own. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll let Charlie slowly undress me every single day, but I’d rather her do it as she lowers herself to her knees to take me into her mouth rather than for me just to be able to shower.
The thought of Charlie’s perfect lips around my cock is such a fucking turn-on, and my dick rises to the occasion. After my surgery, I could barely get hard, even when I tried to, and I fucking panicked for a while there until the doc told me that pain medication was probably the cause of it and it would only be temporary. Despite her professional medical opinion, I was still skeptical. It wasn’t until Charlie smiled up at me in the bar that I felt it stirring to life. Even then, by the time I got home, I was soft again, and as much as I tried to jack off, I couldn’t do it. For the first time in my life, I felt like less of a man.
All of these things—the injuries, the side effects from the medicine, the feelings of helplessness—are piling up on me, and I feel like I can’t breathe at times. It doesn’t help that all I have time to do is think. To dwell. And it’s burning up inside of me.
When I left Belle Meade, I swore that I’d never be weak again. I swore that I’d always take care of those around me, no matter the cost, and when I took that Army Oath, I swore to protect my brothers. And here I am, almost eleven years later. Weak. Alone. A failure. I haven’t felt like this since I was an eighteen-year-old kid who thought he’d already met the love of his life, only to have her rip him to shreds. And I swore to myself that I’d never let anyone back in again who could make me feel that way. It’s been easy, too. Until now. Until Charlie.
When I enter the bathroom, I realize that I still have to cover my arm. After a couple of minutes of trying to do it one-handed, I figure it’s the best I’m going to do and hope I don’t get my cast too wet. I open the shower door, recalling the moment that I opened it up on her the other night. The way her eyes were taking in my cock like it was the most delicious piece of meat she’s ever seen made my dick throb like nothing I’ve ever felt before. If there was ever a time for me to finally get off, that would’ve been it, but knowing that she was right outside waiting for me had me hurrying instead.
Making quick work of washing my hair, I rinse off and grab the body wash Charlie replaced the other night. Soaping up, I rub my chest and abdomen, and I’m immediately reminded of this morning.
Groaning, I rinse off and lean my head back against the tile. She thought I was asleep, but I’d actually woken up a few moments before I felt her shift beside me. It was hard to suppress the grin that was struggling to surface when I felt her lift the covers, because I knew what she was doing. She had been pretty damn intoxicated when Lexi had dropped us off at my place, and I was going to walk her to the guest bedroom, but she was determined to follow me to mine and help me remove my clothes, grumbling something about being the best not-nurse I’ve ever had. After she took my shorts off, she jumped on the bed and proceeded to help me out of my t-shirt. Her eyes grew soft when she saw my dog tags for the first time, and she got on her knees on the bed in front of me and grabbed hold of them.
“I don’t know how you do it. You’re so brave,” she slurred, inspecting each tag with squinted eyes.
I pulled her up so she was eye level with me. A sexy look crossed her face as she gazed at me with hooded eyes. “Not brave, sweetheart. Just doing my job,” I told her, and she just smiled at me—that same smile she had been giving Jace and Kale. My heart constricted, happy to finally earn one of those grins. I didn’t care that she was only doing it because of the alcohol.
“Why do you always call me sweetheart?” she asked as she twirled the chain of my tags.
To be honest, I started it to be annoying, and then it just kind of stuck. I like it. It’s so her, yet it’s so not. When I answered her, I didn’t know what to say. “I have no idea, sweetheart. It just works.”
She snorted. Yeah, she fucking snorted. “Oh god. When I was a kid, my dad used to call me Sweet Tart. I guess I could be sweet or sour at the drop of a hat. He’d always tell me that he never knew which Charlie he was going to get.” She giggled and then stumbled on the bed, causing her giggle even more. The idea of tickling her crossed my mind, but I knew if I got my hands on her I wouldn’t have been able to stop at innocent touching.
“All right, enough talk. Go raid my closet for some clothes to change into and let’s get some sleep.”
As soon as she changed into a pair of my boxers and one of my t-shirts, she promptly passed out on the bed next to me. She looked gorgeous, her brown hair fanned out on my usual favorite pillow, and even though I have trouble sleeping without it, I decided to let her keep it for the night.
This morning when she woke up, I realized that she probably wasn’t exactly sure what had happened. I was about to turn over and reassure her that it was all innocent, and I was so ready to tease her and call her Sweet Tart, but before I could move, I felt her fingers lightly touching my skin. I froze at her touch, not wanting her to stop. Willing myself to lie as still as possible, I could barely keep my cool as her hand roamed my chest, and I could tell when she was exploring the tattoo on my rib. It wasn’t until she made her way down to my abs that I finally had an involuntary reaction. I was afraid I was caught when I felt her finger pause, no longer making its exploration. Her index finger traced every ab muscle, even exploring my oblique muscles. I couldn’t help the way my muscles tensed, probably a reaction to the rock-hard morning wood I was sporting. I was half praying that she’d lift the sheet—and half praying she wouldn’t discover it.
I was able to calm myself down so that my breathing remained normal until I felt her shift off of the bed and then finally leave the room. I exhaled deeply and knew right then and there that I was in trouble, because those few moments of her hands on me made me want her more than I’ve wanted anyone in the longest time.
Now in the shower, my hand matches the way her fingers traced my skin, but I move farther down, imagining that she had taken a peek under the sheet. My hand moves down and grips the base of my cock, and I can feel Charlie’s hand there instead of mine. I make one strong stroke, from root to tip, and it feels so goddamn fucking good. To be honest, I haven’t jacked off in the shower since I was about fifteen, but I’m hard now and I can’t get this girl’s vision out of my mind. I’m taking advantage while I can—and if I can. I’ve been slowly lowering the dose of medicine, so I’m praying that I can keep going long enough to get off.
Since my left arm is out of commission, I can’t steady myself, so I back up against the wall. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes as I continue to stroke my cock up and down, imagining that Charlie is in here doing it for me. Remembering the way she sucked that lime after a tequila shot last night, I envision her lips wrapped around my cock, sucking hard until all the juice is down her throat. I pump hard into my fist, and I know I need to slow down before I accidentally tweak something in my back. But I can’t help it when my left hand grips the top of the glass door as I squeeze tightly, moving my hand from top to bottom, wishing I was sliding into Charlie instead of my fist. Rocking my hips, I can almost feel her body making contact with mine—her hard nipples poking into my chest as she grinds up against me, her sexy brown eyes gazing into mine as she rides my dick. Fuck, I want this girl so bad, and my cock is about to explode just at the thought of her.
The thought of her fingers all over me one last time is all I need to finally groan out my release, and I swear I hear myself say her fucking name as my cock pumps out over and over until I’m finally empty.
Still holding on to the top of the door, I’m panting, catching my breath, slightly winded from finally being able to stay hard long enough to finish the job. A slow smile spreads over my face as I go to wash the evidence off my hand. I know I shouldn’t think it, but I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to really have Charlie with me in the shower, naked, wet, and more importantly, willing. Sighing, I know it’s wishful thinking and a thought I need to get out of my mind if I’m going to stand any chance living with her and sticking to the whole strictly roommates thing.
The problem, though, is that the more I’m around her, the more I think I don’t want that. I’ve tried to tell myself that it’s purely a physical attraction, but I’m beginning to realize that I might just be lying to myself. I don’t know how to process these feelings—this need, this want—to get to know her.
Turning off the water, I get out of the shower and decide to forget about it for now. I can celebrate the small victory—well, not small—I just had and figure everything out later. It’s not like she’s going anywhere anytime soon. At least I hope not. I need to find a way to get this girl off my mind or I’m going to drive myself crazy.
HOLY. FUCKING. Shit. I walk into the house after running to Lucy’s to grab a few things. After leaving her place, I realized that I’d forgotten the list, so I decided to make a quick stop back at Knox’s to grab it. I’m pretty sure I left it in the guest bathroom, and I decide to check there first. When I head down the hall, I swear I hear my name, which stops me in my tracks. I move closer to Knox’s bathroom, and seconds later, I hear my name again. It’s muffled so I can’t tell if he says anything else. I get worried that something is wrong with him, but then I hear what sounds like a moan and a quick slapping-like sound. I swear it sounds like he’s jacking off. Moving closer, I strain to hear what’s happening.
Thinking I must be going crazy and am hearing things, I press my ear up against the door. I hear nothing for a moment, but then a grunt echoes from the bathroom and I hear my name once more. Knox sighs, and a moment later, the water turns off. Holy shit. Was he just doing what I think he was doing? Oh, god. I’ve got to get out of here before he catches me. Shit, shit, shit. I scamper down the hallway, leaving the godforsaken list behind, and I run out the front door and to my car. I don’t even take the time to put on my seatbelt before I start the car and peel out of the driveway, praying to anyone who will listen that he didn’t catch me.
IT’S BEEN four hours since I nearly caught Knox masturbating, and I’m still in shock. I swear I heard him yelling out my name, but when I realized what he was doing, it made no sense. Well, then again, maybe it did. He did tell me this morning that he liked me in his clothes, but I figured that was just another one of his hot/cold moments. I’m pretty sure Katy Perry wrote that song just for him, and I can’t help sing the lyrics in my head.
The thought of him actually thinking about me while jacking off… It makes me want to race back to his place and throw myself at him, but I refuse to do that. Instead, I headed to the gym to work off some steam, thankful I had workout clothes from Lucy’s already in my car.
Sparring with Kale did nothing to calm my nerves. I was too on edge to concentrate. He kicked my ass twice and even commented that I seemed off. I just can’t stop thinking about what I heard. There’s something seriously sexy about hearing a man groan your name when he’s working himself over, but I have to wonder, why me? Obviously there’s an unspoken attraction between us, but is he really that into me that he’s thinking of me while he’s doing
it? And if so, why doesn’t he just making a freaking move already? All I know is that I’m more confused than ever, so I try not to think about it anymore. But I know that until I get home and take care of myself in the same fashion he did, I’m not going to be able to get it off my mind.
I’m now wandering around the local supermarket, trying to remember what was on that damn list when I suddenly hear my name, and I freeze in my tracks.
“Charlotte,” a deep voice behind me calls. Turning around, I spot Drew, and to be honest, he looks terrible. Other than random sightings on campus, this is the first time I’ve seen him since that day in his office, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him up close. His black hair is unusually long, and he looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes. He’s always been lean, but his cheeks look sunken in, as if he hasn’t been eating enough. The part of me that loved him wants to reach out and stroke his face, but the other side keeps replaying the vision of him fucking another woman. I bet you can guess which side wins out.
Ignoring him, I try to make myself look busy as I inspect the cantaloupe, trying to find the perfect one to take home and cut up. His hand touches my arm, and I yank it away, glaring up at him. His sad expression cools me down, and I stand up straight, bagging the fruit.
“Hello, Drew,” I tell him in a monotone voice that makes him grimace.
He nervously fingers the oranges in the produce section in front of him, and I raise my eyebrows at him. I know it’s produce and you’re supposed to wash it, but people touching every piece of fruit has always bugged the shit out of me and he knows it. He places his hands in his pockets and just looks at me.
“Umm, I’ve tried getting ahold of you. I even called your dad,” he says, looking forlorn, and I notice that I no longer feel the pull towards him like I used to. Just a few months ago, I’d find myself searching campus just for a glimpse at him, but now that he’s in front of me, I want nothing more than to be anywhere else.