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“Charlie.”
But she ignored him and eased her body over his, slowly. So. Fucking. Slow.
“Jesus Christ, Charlie,” he said, grabbing hold of her hips. He was still for a moment, as if trying to keep some kind of control, and then he began to move.
He thrust up and filled her completely and she joined him, her rhythm in sync with his. Her body adjusted, taking every inch of him as deeply as she could. And oh, the feel of him inside her, the way he stretched her, the way he moved—it was something she’d never forget.
Charlie held on to his shoulders, rocking into him, already feeling that flicker of heat, that tight coil of desire building. It expanded until she was trembling all over. They were perfect together.
Rick was like the missing piece to the puzzle that made up Charlie Samuels and the realization hit her hard.
“I’ve never felt like this,” she said, not knowing she’d said the words out loud until he stopped moving.
Charlie whimpered and then stilled.
His hands moved from her hips and he cupped her face, pulling her down so that he could kiss her. It was a soft, gentle sort of thing, at odds with the heat and desire that boiled inside them both.
“You make me feel things,” he said, his mouth still on hers. “Damn, but you make me feel.”
He began moving again and she cried out, her hands clutching his shoulders as they rocked into each other. Faster. Harder. Skin on skin. Heart to heart.
Charlie tightened around Rick, her orgasm building and contracting, and when she came her screams were softened by his mouth—by the sweetest kiss ever.
Rick rocked against her, his body tight and hard, his lips soft and gentle. He shuddered into her, his release filling her, his body hot beneath hers.
When it was over, they didn’t move for a very long time. Not until the water became tepid, and they both began to shiver.
Charlie would have stayed in that tub forever if she could have because something had just shifted. She’d felt it like when she’d looked into Rick’s eyes. It was subtle and elusive, but it was there. She knew it was there.
And what exactly was that something? She had no freaking idea.
Chapter Twenty-five
Charlie brought up two beers and a bowl of popcorn.
My kind of girl, he thought.
She’d pulled on his T-shirt—a vintage Rolling Stones no less—and he smiled, catching sight of that delectable ass as she slid into bed beside him.
“Looks good on you,” he said, reaching for a handful of popcorn.
He was starving, but then they’d worked up an appetite. After the tub, he’d brought her back into her room and went in for round two. He’d worshipped every inch of her body. He couldn’t seem to get enough.
“You’re not getting it back.”
“Sounds like a challenge.”
“Does it?”
“Sounds like you want me to take it off you.”
“Maybe later,” she said with a grin. “If you’re lucky.”
They settled back and he took a long pull from his can of Bud. Maverick was satiated and his body was lethargic, but his mind was moving a mile a minute.
“So, about all those questions,” he said, glancing her way. They hadn’t had a chance to really talk since his return from Florida, and it was time.
Her eyes were on him, and she swallowed a handful of popcorn, nodding slowly. “I have a few.” She studied him for a bit and then grabbed her beer though she didn’t take a drink.
