by Amy Andrews
Carrie blushed and was grateful that the only light in the room was from the streetlight outside. The way his gaze devoured her breasts was doing funny things to her breathing and she felt weak at the knees, knowing he wanted her that much.
And then his finger ran along the edge of the lace and her nipples hardened instantly and everything heated inside. It was incredibly erotic, watching his fingers stroke over the lace, and she felt herself sway, her eyes closing on a swell of longing. And then his lips were stroking heat up her neck and behind her ear, his fingers toying with her bra clasp.
Charlie struggled uselessly with the clasp, his fingers clumsy in his rush to touch her. No matter how hard he tried he didn’t seem to be able to unhook the bra.
Carrie was so involved with the fire he was igniting along her collar-bone she didn’t even register his trouble.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I guess I’m out of practice. It’s been a while.’
It took a second for Carrie to figure out what he was talking about. ‘Oh.’ She grinned. ‘I bet it hasn’t been as long as me.’
He smiled back, stroking a stray lock of her hair out of her eyes. ‘Maybe not. But a year’s a long time.’
‘Huh,’ she said dismissively. ‘Try nearly five.’
Charlie chuckled. ‘No, thanks.’ He sobered. ‘It’s OK, it’s one of those things you never forget.’
She was captivated by his intense gaze. ‘Are you sure?’ she whispered.
He nodded slowly. ‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind taking this off…’ he ran an index finger around a lace-covered nipple ‘…I’ll demonstrate.’
Carrie’s hands shook as she reached behind and unclasped her bra. She could barely breathe from the blaze in his eyes. She removed it slowly, suddenly shy. No one but Dana had seen her naked in four years. The urge to cover herself was strong and she raised her hands to cross them across her chest.
‘No,’ he whispered, exerting gentle pressure on her arms, and was gratified when they fell by her sides. He felt his loins stir as he took in the beauty of her breasts. Her nipples were scrunched hard in the centre of all her lush fullness. ‘I’ve been fantasising what lay beneath those damn buttons for weeks.’
His voice was husky and she again felt herself sway towards him. When he reached out and cupped them, ran a thumb over each nipple, she gasped out loud. ‘Please,’ she whispered. She had no idea what she’d said it for but when he swept her close, lowered his head and covered one rosy peak with his mouth, she knew exactly why.
‘Oh!’
He pushed her back against the bed and then it was just a swirl of sensation. The heaviness of his body pinning her to the bed. The hardness of his erection as his maleness encompassed her. The thrill of his touch against her skin. The pleasure of his tongue at her pulse points. The eroticism of his bite as he used his teeth as a weapon of sweet, sensual torture.
She wasn’t sure where her gasps ended and his groans began. Whose pounding heart reverberated through her body? His or hers? Whose irregular breathing echoed in her ears? His or hers? They seemed to have morphed into one being. One entity. Locked in a mating frenzy. A sexual bubble. Not knowing or caring where one began and the other one finished.
Charlie’s hand slipped beneath her waistband, beneath the lacy elastic of her knickers. Carrie groaned out loud and bit into his shoulder as his fingers sought and found her centre. They felt so good inside her she thought she was going to reach orgasm just from their pressure alone.
She reached down and undid his fly, pushed his underwear aside, filled her hands with his proud, surging manhood. She heard his sharp indrawn breath and stroked her finger around the tip.
‘Carrie,’ he groaned.
She smiled against his mouth. ‘What?’ she asked, grasping him and stroking her hand up and down.
‘Carrie,’ Charlie growled. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to hold out if she kept that up. He held his hand firmly against hers. ‘Later. Right now I think you need to get out of those clothes.’
He pushed himself away from her, snagging his hand in her waistband and dragging her shorts and knickers over her hips and down her legs in one swoop. He grinned down at her. She was completely naked now.
‘You, too.’ She raised a leg and placed her foot against his hardness, feeling him twitch. ‘Take ’em off.’
Charlie laughed, divested himself of the remainder of his clothes and climbed back on the bed, hovering above her on his hands and knees. He watched her raise her head off the bed, her lips seeking his. He dipped his head, letting her claim his mouth, probe it with her tongue.
He pulled away and grinned at her moan of protest. He grinned even more at her ‘yes’ as he lowered his mouth to first one nipple then the other. He revelled in her low moan as he licked down to her belly button, ran wet circles around it and delved inside. And he exulted in her ‘Charlie!’ as he moved lower and found her sweet hot centre.
Carrie almost combusted at the touch of his tongue against her. He found the right spot instantly and she felt her hips rise off the bed involuntarily. His tongue flicked expertly and she could hear her cries of pleasure on an abstract level only. And when he pushed a finger inside and then pulled it out before plunging in again, mimicking the ultimate sexual act, she cried out louder because she was shattering into pieces and nothing could hold the shuddering of her body in check.
Charlie covered her mouth with his as his finger continued to stroke, stoke, sate. Swallowing her primal cries was dizzying, satisfying beyond his wildest dreams. He had made her come apart. He had made her pulse around his finger. He had made her crazy with lust. She devoured his mouth and he plundered hers in return, sucking up every last moan and whimper as her orgasm subsided.
‘Charlie.’ A depleted Carrie floated back down to earth.
He laughed and kissed her again hard, gathering her close, rolling over so she lay on top of him. His hands pressed against her buttocks, pressing her into the jut of his still rock-hard erection.
Carrie roused herself. She kissed his mouth, his eyes, his shoulder. ‘Let’s do that again.’
He chuckled. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Yes, indeed you are.’ She smiled, rubbing herself against the hard ridge of his sex.
‘Carrie,’ he warned.
She kissed him hard on the mouth. ‘Please, tell me you have condoms.’
‘Wallet. Back pocket.’ Joe had given them to him on Wednesday night.
Carrie grinned, leaping off the bed, locating his discarded clothes and finding a foil packet. She held it up triumphantly and ripped it open with her teeth. Within seconds she had Charlie covered and he had pulled her down on the bed, trapping her beneath him, biting her neck as he slowly entered her.
‘Oh, yes,’ he groaned as her tightness surrounded him.
‘Again,’ she whispered into his ear, the one stroke nowhere near enough.
Charlie obliged.
‘Oh, yes,’ Carrie breathed into his ear.
And obliged again.
‘More,’ she whispered.
And again.
‘Oh, God, don’t stop,’ she whimpered.
Stop? Was she mad? ‘Carrie,’ he cried as the pressure in his loins built to unbearable proportions.
She felt so good around him, underneath him. He wanted to pound inside her for ever, hold close like this for ever, be joined with her like this for ever. But the pressure was working against him, taking over, beyond his control, and he cried out her name as it erupted, pulsing like a molten lava flow through his veins, buzzing like an electric current through every cell in his body. And finally spilling out to cover his body in white-hot ecstasy.
Carrie cried out, too, as her body became embroiled in the heat and rush of her own orgasm. It was even more powerful than the last. Her body was buffeted by shock waves more violent than the last. Like the waves emanating from a nuclear explosion. An internal mushroom cloud rippling through all the cells of her body. And all she could do was hold on
to Charlie, anchor herself to him as they wreaked their erotic havoc.
The tumult rose to a crescendo and then slowly, slowly Charlie came down from the heights. Carrie was still spasming around him and the odd shudder quaked through his muscles. They were silent, like feathers floating to the ground, only their heavy breathing breaking the quiet.
‘See,’ Charlie murmured a few moments later, kissing her hair, ‘I told you. Not bad for an out-of-practice couple.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHARLIE woke the next morning, sun streaming in through the window, a little finger lifting his eyelid.
‘You had a sleepover, Charlie?’
Oh, hell! Charlie opened both eyes. Dana’s smiling face greeted him. He felt Carrie, who was snuggled into his back, stiffen. ‘Morning, Sleeping Beauty.’
Oh, damn, damn, damn. ‘Darling,’ Carrie said, rising up on her elbow to look over Charlie’s shoulder, amazed at how much she wanted to bite it, even confronted with a truly horrible situation.
‘I’m hungry,’ Dana said. ‘Do you know how to make pancakes, Charlie?’
‘Ah…yes, I do, actually,’ he said, despite Carrie’s finger poking into his ribs.
‘Come on, then. Pancakes are Mummy’s favourite.’ Dana pulled at the edge of the sheet.
‘Darling!’ Carrie said, grabbing the sheet and holding it fast to Charlie’s flat stomach. ‘Why don’t you go and get the bowl and jug and eggs out and Charlie will join you in just a moment?’
‘OK,’ Dana said agreeably. She dropped the sheet and skipped out, dragging blanky behind her.
Carrie collapsed back, groaning, and stared at the ceiling. Charlie pressed his lips together really hard to stop himself from laughing. He knew this was bad. Very bad. That Dana could read things into this that he wasn’t sure he was capable of, but after an amazing night he was relaxed enough to see the humour in the situation.
Carrie punched him lightly on the arm. ‘This is not funny, Charlie.’
He chuckled out loud as he stared into her mortified face.
‘You were supposed to be gone two hours ago!’
‘I know, I know, but you wanted to snuggle for just a bit longer and, well, frankly, you wore me out. I just closed my eyes for a second.’
‘This is a disaster,’ Carrie muttered, trying not to think about the eyeful her daughter would have had if she’d managed to pull back that sheet. Or how they’d made love over and over until the wee small hours. Even when their supply of four condoms had run out, Charlie had laid her back and made it all about her.
Charlie should have been concerned. He should have been worried, too, but he was too happy at this moment to care. He hadn’t felt this good since before his marriage had fallen apart. He rose from the bed and stretched languorously.
Carrie swallowed hard as she watched his naked buttocks tighten and his muscles undulate through his broad tanned back. Oh, God, the things he had done to her. ‘Charlie, for heaven’s sake, put something on. Dana could wander in here any second.’
Charlie turned and grinned down at her. He saw her gaze widen as she stared at his naked body. He felt himself twitch at the desire he saw in her eyes. ‘Are you sure?’ He smiled.
His voice was deep and lazy and sexy and she wanted to reach out to him and pull him back into bed. ‘Charlie,’ she warned.
He laughed and hunted down his clothes. ‘My shirt is in the lounge room.’
Carrie groaned again. ‘Great.’
He looked at her lying in bed, the sheet pulled primly up to her chin. He suppressed the urge to yank the sheet down and just stare at her. She couldn’t hide behind her morning-after primness with him. Not when he knew every delicious inch of her body.
‘Are you getting up or shall Dana and I make you breakfast in bed?’
Dana and I. The way he’d said it had been so possessive it scared the hell out of her. It was something a father would do with his daughter. A partner would do. But he wasn’t Dana’s father and he wasn’t her partner. To get caught up in this little fantasy was dangerous. ‘No. I’ll have a quick shower and be out in a flash.’
‘Sounds like fun.’ He grinned.
Carrie felt her toes curl at the flirtatious tone and promise in his grey eyes. This was insane. Do not read anything into this! ‘Go, Charlie, now.’
He chuckled. ‘OK, OK, I’m going.’
Charlie scanned the lounge room for his missing shirt. He was looking under the lounge when Dana found him.
‘Here’s your shirt, Charlie,’ she said, holding it out. ‘Did it get hot last night?’
Oh, baby. It got very, very hot. ‘A little,’ he said, ruffling her hair and putting on his shirt. ‘OK, let’s make pancakes.’
Charlie laughed and joked with Dana as he cooked. She cracked him up with her four-year-old observations and her baby jokes. The longer he spent in her company the more charmed he was by her mix of exuberance and innocence. The enormity of what they’d done last night, and its implications, hit him square between the eyes as he flipped pancakes.
This little girl was looking at him as if he were God, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny all rolled into one. He liked kids, had wanted his own. It had been the deal-breaker in his marriage. But this was reality. What did he know about four year-old girls? How could he be a good father when he’d had such a lousy example? Did he have the right to impose his inexperienced parenting on this close-knit, loving mother-and-daughter team?
‘Mmm, something smells good.’
Charlie started as Carrie entered the room. He felt a warmth spread through his chest at the sound of her voice and he smiled at her gently, despite his chaotic thoughts. Her hair was damp from the shower and he wanted her all over again. He cursed his weak body.
‘Charlie put banana in some, Mummy. They taste ’licious.’
‘Hey, I tried to put banana in a few times and you wouldn’t eat them,’ Carrie protested, kissing Dana’s head and pulling up a stool opposite Charlie at the breakfast bar.
Dana nodded solemnly. ‘I know, but Charlie says you got to try everything once else how do you know whether you like it or not?’
‘Does he, now?’ Carrie commented. So Charlie was the expert now, was he?
Charlie saw the frown knit her eyebrows together. ‘OK, here you go,’ he said, interrupting Dana before she got him into any more trouble. He served her up two pancakes, drizzled maple syrup over them and dusted them with icing sugar. ‘Eat up,’ he instructed, and just because he wanted to see the frown disappear he threw in a teasing ‘You need to replace those burnt calories.’
Carrie bugged her eyes at him in warning as she took the plate.
‘What’s calories?’ Dana asked, her mouth full of pancake.
Charlie stifled a laugh at the murderous look in Carrie’s eyes.
‘It’s how we measure energy in food,’ Carrie supplied. ‘Don’t eat with your mouth full, sweetie.’
Charlie helped himself to seconds—he’d burnt a few calories himself last night—and wisely kept quiet. He munched away silently while Dana kept up conversation with her mother.
I could get used to this. The realisation sank in insidiously. It was domestic and homey and reeked of commitment. Everything he’d been determined to avoid. His heartbeat kicked up a notch as alarm bells started to ring. He shifted in his seat and glanced at his watch. He had to get out of there—the atmosphere was affecting his ability to think clearly. Staying last night had been a mistake.
Dana swallowed the last of her pancake. ‘Can you stay all day?’ she asked Charlie.
‘No, darling,’ Carrie interrupted before Charlie could say anything. ‘Charlie has to go to work, don’t you?’ She sipped at her coffee, watching him furtively.
He nodded. ‘Yes, I do.’
Carrie noted how quickly he agreed with her and how he’d glanced at his watch twice now in a short time. He looked ill at ease suddenly and she wondered if he was already regretting last night now the cold light of morning had thrown her li
fe into stark reality. It shouldn’t have hurt. But it did.
‘Can he bring ding rolls tonight?’
‘No, spring rolls aren’t healthy every night. Go wash your hands, sweetie. Aren’t the Wiggles on soon?’
Dana’s face lit up. ‘Wiggles!’
Carrie helped her off her stool and they both watched her run away to the bathroom.
Charlie smiled. ‘She’s a great kid.’
Carrie felt her heart contract. She could fall for him so easily. ‘Yes, she is.’ She started clearing the breakfast dishes. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him check his watch again. ‘You’d better get going. The kids at the centre will be wondering what’s happened to you.’
Charlie knew it was for the best. Knew she was giving him an out. Which was what he wanted. Wasn’t it? But memories of last night still heated his loins and the experience of cooking with Dana left a lingering sense of possibility.
‘Are you dismissing me, Carrie?’
Carrie scraped the plates, her back to him. ‘You’ve looked at your watch three times in as many minutes, Charlie. You don’t have to hang around. I’m a big girl. I know the score. Last night was just a very pleasant way to end a year of abstinence.’ She slotted a plate into the dishwasher rack.
It sounded so callous when she said it like that. Whatever it had been, it had been more than that. ‘What if it’s more?’
Carrie felt her heart leap stupidly and quashed it ruthlessly as she thrust another plate into the rack. ‘Right.’ She forced out a trite laugh as she turned to look at him. ‘More than what, Charlie? Look, let’s be real for a minute. Last night was great but it wasn’t real. This morning was real. A little person whose needs come before mine. I know that you get on well with Dana but I saw how quickly you bolted out of my house that first time when the reality of her existence banged you on the head. And right now you look like an animal caught in headlights.’ She turned back to the dishwasher and slotted in another plate. ‘You may be prepared to tolerate Dana, sweet-talk her to get in with me, but we’re a team. A two-for-one deal.’