by Celeste, B.
Peeling strands of blonde hair away from my face, I yawn and sit up to examine the dark room. I vaguely remember walking in with Ollie after checking into the hotel. As soon as he suggested I lay down for a nap, it was game over.
“Ollie?” I swing my legs over the side of the bed and walk out of the bedroom into the open living room area where Ollie is sitting on the couch.
His head instantly turns when I near the couch, his arm opening in invitation for me to cuddle into his side. “Hey, you. Sleep okay?”
My cheeks heat. “I’m sorry about that.”
He kisses my temple. “You were tired, babe. You’ve been stressed and busy and needed the sleep. Don’t apologize.”
I frown and tuck my legs under me. “I know but we’re supposed to be on vacation. Nothing is sexier than me drooling on the expensive looking pillows.”
His chuckle makes my lips tilt upward. “I don’t think there’s anything that wouldn’t make you sexy to me, Charlie. Pretty sure that’s how we got into this whole thing.”
Now my lips are spread wide, my eyes twinkling the same way his are. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
He shakes his head, moving a strand of my frizzy hair behind my ear. “Messy maybe, but not bad. We both know I wouldn’t change a thing about how it happened.”
Both my brows raise. “Really?”
He bites back a smile. “Maybe I would have preferred to wait until you were a little older but…”
I nudge his ribcage playfully. Causing him to laugh and catch my arm. “Thought so, Mr. Morals. But I think messy works for us.”
“Oh yeah?” He grabs ahold of me and swings me over his lap so I’m straddling him. I rest my hands on his shoulders and bat my eyes innocently at him. “I think so too.”
My head tilts. “You don’t regret it?”
“Never.”
“Not even—”
He stops me with a kiss that I happily return, parting his lips and feeling his tongue leisurely meet mine. My arms hug his neck, tugging him closer to me as I deepen the kiss and settle into his body. The muscles of his stomach contract and he groans when I grind down on his hard cock twitching under me.
“Never,” he repeats, pecking my lips.
I take his bottom lip and roll it into my mouth, causing his fingers to tighten along my waist. Giggling over the ticklish sensation, I wiggle on his lap and cause him to arch his hips into me until his length is pressed right where heat is building between my legs. Our kiss starts as any other—innocent but not. Soft but demanding. It sparks something more, a yearning that neither of us can get enough of.
Even though we’ve said I love you countless times, it’s these moments that cement it. It’s how we show each other, how our bodies work together, how we breathe in sync with hunger and clarity.
Sometimes you need more than words.
Ollie’s always given me that. He’s known what I need before I do—space, comfort, everything in between. There’s never been a point when I was angry at him for knowing me better than I know myself. Part of me always wondered if that’s how it’s meant to be with people you’re meant to be with. Like there’s a tether between us that’s unbreakable.
My hands slowly glide down the front of his t-shirt, feeling every muscle he’s worked hard for. His breathing hitches as I glide my palms under the hem and caress the skin beneath. Raising them up, up, up, I continue to kiss him like my life depends on it while brushing the slight wiry hair along his chest.
He bites down on my bottom lip when I pinch one of his nipples. “That how you want to play, little girl?” The way he growls the words at me turns me on, but not as much as when he gets my shirt off in record time and pops the button of my jeans.
I gasp playfully. “Little girl, huh? I didn’t think we were doing role-play. I’m not really sure I can call you Daddy, but Uncle—”
I yelp when he flips me over on my back, instantly hovering above my body with a hungry expression on his face. It doesn’t stop me from teasing him a little more, reaching between us and cupping his bulge.
“My, my.” I bite my lip and begin rubbing him, feeling him grow in my hold. The heat radiating from him by the circular motions my hand makes has dampness growing between my legs. His hips arch into my touch, jerking to get more friction. “You like that idea, don’t you?”
His eyes flutter closed as I squeeze him. A hushed noise sounds from the back of his throat as he leans down and nuzzles his nose against mine. Our lips hover, not quite touching but not staying away either.
“Charlie,” he breathes, his lips grazing mine ever so softly. When he opens his eyes, the clarity and love staring back makes my heart thunder in my chest.
Tears well in my eyes as I move my hand to his jaw and cup it. “I know. Me too.”
I love you.
I need you.
Just you.
Only you.
That’s what he said during our vows, and I’ve felt it in my chest ever since. The words are buried deep, woven into my soul, just like he wanted them to be. A reminder. Something for when things get tough.
When our lips finally meet again, each stroke is deeper than the next. Searching. Unable to stop. He manages to peel my jeans off, along with my panties with them. He kisses his way up my body, tongue trailing along the inside of my thigh until his nose nuzzles the sensitive skin that’s craving him in any form he’ll give me.
“Please.” I squirm when he bites down on my inner thigh, then licks away the mark he left behind until I’m seeping. “Take your clothes off, Ollie. Please?”
He doesn’t stop. Instead, he moves up my leg and breathes me in until I’m panting. His tongue sweeps the seam of my lips, causing me to arch up into him. The movement has him gripping my knees and opening my legs wider to accommodate his wide shoulders while he licks me from bottom to top, sucking my clit into his mouth.
My lips part but nothing comes out as I clench fistfuls of his hair and ride out each stroke of his tongue against my clit. When he teases my entrance with one of his fingers, my entire body burns with anticipation until sweat dots my forehead. It’s nothing compared to the moment his fingers and tongue both work me at the same time, two fingers plunging inside me as he keeps focused on the bundle of nerves with his mouth.
It doesn’t take long before I’m riding his face, trying to get every second of pleasure I can from him. When he flattens his tongue against me, I claw at his back and spasm around him, holding on to anything I can grab.
Once my body is sated and numb, he stands up and peels off the rest of his clothes. “On your hands and knees, baby.”
Legs like jelly, I obey shakily. I’m still catching my breath from what he just did, but even wetter over the idea of what’s to come. When he positions himself behind me, he caresses my sides, back, and butt before thrusting inside me in one move.
“Ollie,” I moan, feeling one of his hands trail up to the back of my bra, working on getting the clasps undone, while the other holds onto my hips as he jackknifes inside of me.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he praises, letting the bra fall off my body, leaving me completely bare. He trails his hand around me, playing with my nipple and squeezing it, then palming my breast. “My cock is drowning in you, baby.”
I move back to meet his thrusts, listening to our skin meet. I’m not embarrassed to hear how wet I am for him—my husband. In moments like this it’s weird to think of him as anything other than Ollie.
But I wear his ring.
Feel his cock.
Carried his baby.
He owns me and I love it.
The hand that plays with my breast goes up to the back of my head and fists my hair. He yanks it back with minimal force, causing me to clench around him tighter. “You love this. Don’t you, Charlie? Tell me how much you love it.”
His cock hits me in the best way, driving me closer and closer to my second orgasm. My cheek rocks across the couch cushion, scraping against the fabric as h
e enters me faster. I’m sure I’ll have a slight burn on my face from it, but the lick of pain is worth what he’s doing to me.
“I love it so much,” I whimper, feeling him twitch inside me. His grip in my hair loosens, his other palm skating to play with my clit and bring me closer to release.
“I love you,” he tells me, his movements becoming jerky and chaotic as he thrusts harder and harder.
“Ollie—” I bite my wrist as he pinches my clit and makes me come around him, then feel tears prickle my eyes with oncoming emotion that hits me out of nowhere.
“Gonna come inside you, babe.” Not even ten seconds after his warning, he spills himself into me, holding my hips against him as his orgasm settles.
He pulls out and carefully rests me down so he’s spooning me. One of his arms wraps around the back of my head that I use as a pillow, the other wrapping around my waist to hold me against his warm body.
A tear I didn’t know got pass my defenses slides down my cheek before I can stop it and lands on Ollie’s arm.
“Charlie?” His arm tenses around me before he guides me to turn onto my back. Sitting up on one arm, he stares down at me. “Did I get too rough? Shit, I’m—”
“No.” My voice cracks. I shake my head and try smiling. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been emotional lately. You didn’t hurt me, I promise.”
His thumbs wipe at my damp cheek. “It’s understandable why you would be. How about I order us room service? We’ll junk out and rent a movie or something.”
I sniffle. “Like … porn?”
His chuckle shakes me. “I meant like an actual movie, but I’m down with that if you are.”
I roll my eyes and playfully swat him, sitting up and wiping at my own cheeks. “I’m good with just a movie, thank you very much. And ice cream.”
His brows pinch. “No donuts?”
I deadpan. “I doubt room service has donuts, Ollie. But I’m pretty sure they’ll have ice cream. Vanilla. Extra chocolate syrup.”
He stares at me for way longer than I expect, before slowly nodding. I’m not sure what crosses his mind but it doesn’t stop him from picking up his cell and dialing the number on the room service card left on the glass coffee table in front of the couch.
Biting my lip, I watch the muscles of his back move as he reaches for his discarded clothes on the ground and gives our orders. When he hangs up, I’m on my knees and kissing the back of his neck, trailing my lips to the crook of it and biting down to mark him.
“Again?” His voice is husky.
I reach forward and grip his already hard cock, squeezing it before jerking my palm up and down until he’s leaning into me. “Doesn’t seem like little Ollie disagrees.”
He turns his head and captures my lips, brushing the side of my face with his hand and pulls away. “Please don’t call my cock that.”
I lick his bottom lip. “Sorry, Uncle Ollie.”
He groans.
I giggle.
Nothing changes.
Chapter Nine
Ollie
I’m one lucky bastard.
My front teeth dig into my bottom lip, dragging it inward as Charlie smooths out the black material that clings to her body. Her fingers run through her hair as she examines herself in the mirror. The curves that sculpt her are more pronounced in the form-fitting dress, especially when she turns and reveals the ass I’m caught staring at.
“Do I look okay?” The fact she even has to ask makes me feel like I’ve failed her somehow.
Walking over, I glide my hands down the curve of her waist before pulling her into me. “I want to rip that dress off and then fuck you against the wall, if that’s any indication of how you look.” Instead of doing that, I peck her lips and shake my head. “You’re gorgeous.”
Her cheeks pinken as she steps back. “I wasn’t sure where you’re taking me, but you mentioned somewhere nice…”
My lips tilt. She’s been trying to get information out of me all morning since I mentioned that we had plans before going back to Bridgeport for Milo. Besides hinting that she should dress up, I gave nothing else away.
“You’re going to love it. Promise.”
Her nose scrunches. “You know I’m not a hug fan of—”
I silence her with another kiss, this one much longer than the one before. Palms greet my hips, resting on the soft material of my blue button-up that I haven’t worn in years. Neither of us are typically the type to dress up and go out, but I know today is all about Charlie. We’re going back to a time when she didn’t second guess if she looked okay or appropriate, or worried about anyone other than herself.
Caressing her cheek, I withdraw from her welcoming body and offer her my arm. She doesn’t hesitate to take it, letting me walk her out of the bedroom and toward where our shoes rest by the couch.
She nibbles on her lip. “Ollie?”
“Hmm?”
She squats and picks up the black Converse, studying them indecisively. “I didn’t think to bring any other shoes. These are—”
“Perfect.”
She blinks up at me.
I nod. “Put ‘em on. We’ll be late.”
Warily, she slides into them and flattens out the wrinkles of her dress once she’s finished. I can tell by the way she tugs on the hem that she’s nervous. Ever since she had Milo, she’s been cautious about what she wears and how much skin she exposes. All thanks to some bitch in the store shortly after he was born who commented on a pair of shorts she wore. It’s been a long time since I punched someone, but I was two seconds away from launching produce at the woman who felt the need to degrade my wife.
“You’re really not going to tell me?” she asks again once we’re in the car.
Her body is angled carefully in my direction, her eyes wide and pleading. Despite it all, I wink and say, “Nope.”
She groans and leans back, staring out the windshield at the scenery we pass. It isn’t a long drive before we’re pulling into a tiny cobblestone establishment. The outside does no justice for the intimate restaurant inside and gives nothing away other than the promise of fine dining.
Hesitantly, she unbuckles and follows my lead. Getting out and rounding the front of our car, I reach for her and she quickly cups her palm with mine. I guide us to the glass doors that are covered by an auburn canopy that matches the curtains lining the windows.
As soon as the door opens, we’re greeted by the faintest smell of fresh bread. Charlie squeezes my hand when we stop by the hostess station, taking in the wooden interior that’s dimly lit by candles and threaded white lights. There’s a large bar off to the right lined with wooden stools, and tables and chairs of the same material scattered throughout the rest of the room.
In the background is the softest sound of classical music drifting from the speakers. When the owner walks out from the back with a big smile to go along with his expensive tuxedo, I let go of Charlie’s hand and meet him halfway to shake his.
“Mr. James,” he greets, nodding his head. His eyes drift from me to Charlie, his smile softening a little. “Mrs. James. I’ve heard great things about you.”
Charlie blinks and looks at me, her face tinting pink like it usually does when people compliment her. She gives him a timid smile and walks over to me, holding out her hand. “Thank you, Mr.…”
He clasps hers gently. “You can call me Mark, sweetheart.”
“Charlie.”
They let go of each other and I wind an arm around Charlie’s waist. “Look to your left, all the way in the back.”
She does as I say, turning and focusing the grand piano stationed in the corner. There are candles around it, making the sleek black paint glow. The sharp inhale I hear from her makes me lean forward and smile into the side of her hair. Her fingers find mine and squeeze.
It’s Mark who says, “The afternoon crowd will be here in about forty minutes. It doesn’t get too packed, but we get a fair amount of people. They love live music.”
Charlie g
awks at him. “You … you’d let me play?”
He bobs his head. “Mr. James—”
“Oliver,” I correct.
“—raved about what a brilliant pianist you are. I’d be honored if you played. First, we have a special lunch for the two of you. The restaurant doesn’t open until noon, so it’ll be intimate.”
Charlie’s hand tightens. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.” Her voice is a whisper as she looks up at me. “You did all this for me?”
My lips spread into a warm smile. “You deserve this, Charlie. You’ve been so caught up in making sure Milo is okay, but now is your chance to do what you love.”
Emotion washes over her face, causing her lips to waver from the awed smile she gives me. I can tell she wants to say something but doesn’t have the words. I just nod once to let her know I understand.
Mark shows us to a table near the piano, stationed next to the window that looks out into a large garden. He pushes in Charlie’s chair and tells us our waiter will be out in a moment.
When it’s just us again, she just stares at me and shakes her head. I nudge her foot with mine under the table. “What? I know you don’t like surprises, but—”
“I love this.” Her voice cracks, so she clears it and drapes the auburn cloth napkin on her lap. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you, Oliver James. I feel like I owe someone for bringing you to me.”
I lean forward and reach for her hand. “I think we both know it’s the other way around. I’d do anything for you, Charlie. There’s no doubt in my mind that we’re meant to be in for the long haul. Look at the risks we took.”
“You took the risks. I just … took.”
I wink at her. “And I gave.”
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip.
“Point is,” I say, “is that we deserve each other. It doesn’t matter what we have or haven’t done. Agreed?”
She nods. “You brought me here to play.”
“I did.” I gesture toward the plate. “And eat, of course. Mark Jefferson’s grandson was on the basketball team at Lincoln a couple years ago. He’s mentioned me coming here a few times, and I figured now was good as any.”