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He was going to go to hell for this, surely. For working sweet Charlie Allington’s fist over his cock. For fucking her. And for wanting to fuck her again. But damn if he wasn’t going to enjoy the downhill trip.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHARLIE HEARD THE shower turn on in Walker’s apartment and smiled at the thought of the last time she’d heard it. Had that only been last night? It felt like weeks ago. She was a changed woman, after all. Or at least a very sore, happy woman.
Her smile turned into full-on laughter at the memory of Walker’s boyishly pleased grin when he’d made her scream like a climaxing banshee. God, he was so damn adorable.
She reached for her hair dryer and round brush. Normally she let her natural waves fly, but if she was going to go on a postcoital date with Walker, she wanted her hair shiny and flowing around her shoulders. She wanted him entranced. He’d already come twice, so she couldn’t rely on his lust to make her seem beautiful. She’d have to put in the hard prep work.
Her two orgasms had calmed her restless mind considerably, and as the dryer droned in her ear, melancholy thoughts dogged her. Walker hadn’t just given her his body. He’d exposed more vulnerabilities.
He’d said he’d been stressed, and she believed him. He’d seemed...different today. More sexually aggressive. Less flirtatious. More intense. The time with his father had shaken him, and he really had needed that release.
He’d shaken her, too, in several ways.
First, that had definitely been the best first-time sex she’d ever had. Holy cow, had it been the best. Yes, Walker was well endowed. In fact, he was probably the biggest she’d ever had, but that wasn’t why it had been so good. Or not the only reason anyway. It had just been so hot. And fun. And comfortable. And intense.
She couldn’t quite figure out how those things all fit together, but maybe it was just Walker’s special gift. Maybe he made all the girls feel that way.
Charlie winced. She didn’t want to be jealous over him. She couldn’t be jealous over him if she wanted to hold on to her sanity. She’d known that after the first hour she’d ever spent tutoring him.
God, he’d made her feel special and so cute back then, the way he’d smiled at her with those crinkly eyes and teased her about being so smart. She’d known him, of course. Everyone had known Walker in high school. But they hadn’t run in the same circles and hadn’t taken the same classes. He’d been the big man on campus. Not in the star football player sense, but in the sense that a hundred people said hi to him each ti
me he walked down the hall. And Walker had a friendly response for every single greeting, no matter who the person was.
Walker smiled at everyone, but for a few minutes on that first day in the library, a tiny hope had flamed to life in Charlie’s aching chest. That his eyes crinkled just a bit more for her. That his teasing touches meant he’d only been waiting for the chance to meet her.
Thank God the homecoming queen had come over and propped her hip on the table right in front of Charlie that day. Thank God Charlie had watched Walker lean forward and whisper something naughty enough to make the girl blush. Charlie’s fantasy was stomped out and dead before it could grow. A mercy killing. Quick and kind. Because if she hadn’t seen the light that day, she would’ve fallen head over heels in love with him. He’d told her constantly how amazing she was. How much he admired her. Even now her chest felt tight and warm at the memory.
She couldn’t fall in love with him. She wouldn’t. And she wouldn’t be jealous, either.
But she really, truly wished she’d never seen his ex-lover. Nicole was blonde and curvy and sophisticated, and Charlie didn’t want that woman’s beauty mixed up with her memories of Walker from today. She didn’t want to imagine him doing those things with another woman. Saying the things he’d said. The way he’d said them.
Unfortunately, her only choice was to refuse to imagine them. Because he’d done them to other women. He’d been doing those things since high school. He’d likely done them to that homecoming queen, as well. All Charlie could do was be glad for the knowledge he’d racked up. Because he’d racked up plenty.
But it wasn’t just the sex that had shaken her. He’d insulted himself again, in ways that truly disturbed her. Walker wasn’t stupid. Emotionally, he was a masterpiece. Like the way he’d made everyone around him feel good in high school. The jocks and cowboys and nerds and goths. Even the teachers he’d frustrated with his lack of effort. They’d loved him and they’d gotten frustrated because they’d wanted him to succeed.
Stupid people weren’t good with others. They weren’t perceptive and quick to assess any situation. And they damn sure weren’t good at charming women. He’d struggled with his dyslexia his whole life, and he’d compensated for that by applying his intelligence in other ways. But somehow he couldn’t see that.
He also couldn’t see how screwed up Charlie was. He thought she was bright and in charge and capable of taking on the world. She’d deceived him with her promising start all those years ago. Hell, she’d deceived herself, too.
She wasn’t going to take on the world. She’d peaked before thirty, just as her mother had. Maybe by forty Charlie would follow in her mom’s footsteps and be thrice-divorced and working as a convenience-store clerk. And by fifty, desperate to marry another man, any man, because all the money she’d ever made had been spent helping leeches fix their cars or pay off child support. And then a slow, slow descent toward a wretched retirement.
Yeah, that might be her bright future. But Walker still looked at her and saw promise. She couldn’t tell him the truth right now. Maybe later, if she ever managed to get her life back on track. Maybe when she was flying off to Aspen to open another resort. Then she’d tell him about that little bump in the road that was her current life.
But right now...God, right now she just couldn’t. He was the last person who still thought she was amazing.
What she could correct was this ridiculous idea he had that he was a dumb cowboy going nowhere. If he wanted to work with people, that’s what he should do. And if he still had trouble with getting his thoughts down on paper, that problem needed to be addressed. Hot cowboys could be so stubborn sometimes.
Half an hour later when Walker knocked on her door, she was dressed and ready to go. His eyes swept down to take in her tight white tank top and skinny jeans and heeled boots. “Gorgeous,” he said as she grabbed her coat.
“Not bad yourself.” He looked delicious in a tight blue T-shirt and worn jeans.
“You sure you’re going to be able to swing a bat in those heels?”
“Watch me,” she answered with a wink.
His gaze fell to her ass. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.”
