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“Damn,” he muttered, shifting his erection to a more comfortable position in his jeans. It had been a long day on that horse being plagued by memories of what they’d done. He’d worked hard all day, pushing himself, trying to wear himself out so much that he’d be too tired to remember. It hadn’t worked for more than a few minutes at a time. And now they were both home, only a few feet apart. He could hear the water run in the bathroom when she turned on a tap.
He had no idea what to do.
How should he treat this new Charlie? He’d always considered her a friend. He still did. But friends didn’t jerk friends off. Did they?
No, he couldn’t just treat her like a buddy now. He couldn’t ruffle her hair and tease her and pretend he didn’t want to strip her naked and bend her over his bed.
He shifted again, eyes darting toward the door. Should he go over? Take her a beer? Or maybe grab some flowers and...
“What the hell?” he muttered to himself. “Flowers?” He’d lost his mind. She’d left his apartment with a friendly “Thank you,” as if he?
?d done her a service. And that’s probably all it had been to her. He’d heard that same “Thank you” before. More times than he cared to count, actually.
Thanks, cowboy, that was just what I needed.
Yeah. He was just what the doctor ordered, apparently.
But...it hadn’t felt like that with Charlie. First of all, because she’d made them wait instead of taking what she had clearly wanted. Second, because it had felt so...comfortable. He knew her. Who she was. How to make her laugh.
He liked women. He liked to bring them pleasure, and he damn sure liked to lose himself in his own. He liked their bodies and the sounds they made and the way they smelled and tasted. He liked their smiles and touches and looks. But sometimes...sometimes in the middle of all of that, he felt a little as if he was outside looking in. As if he was watching. But it hadn’t felt like that with Charlie.
Ironic, considering that last night with Charlie he actually had been watching.
That smile took over his mouth again. The one he couldn’t stop.
He was being an idiot, worrying about Charlie. She was just Charlie.
Walker switched off the TV, grabbed two beers and headed over.
“Hey there,” he said when she opened the door. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of her in nothing but a black skirt and black bra.
“Hi, Walker. Is that for me?”
Keeping his eyes on her bra, he handed her a bottle and followed her in.
“I’m eating my dinner. I hope that’s not rude.” She plopped down onto her couch and picked up a box filled with salad.
Yeah. This was definitely comfortable. He grinned. “In your bra?”
“Well, you know, I don’t want to unleash these bad boys. I probably wouldn’t be able to reach past them to eat. Better to keep them contained for now.”
“Clearly. But I was more wondering what had happened to your shirt, rather than why you hadn’t gone full topless. Not that I’d mind. I encourage that whenever possible.”
“I didn’t want to get salad dressing on my shirt.”
“Makes sense.” He twisted off the cap of the beer and settled onto the couch next to her.
“I saw my brother tonight. It’s been a while.”
“What’s he up to?”
She stabbed at her salad. “Being an asshole.”
Walker choked on his beer.
“I’m serious. He’s just... We were never that close because he’s five years older. And a mama’s boy. But now he’s devolved into a thirty-four-year-old sexist, greedy ass. He’s on his third divorce and probably already working toward a fourth wife.”
“Yikes.”
