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Chapter Six
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Charlie
I try not to think about Sebastian during my time at the wedding recital. I want to give my sister the full attention she deserves even if a part of my mind just keeps replaying what happened in the back of Bastian's garage over and over again in my head. I smile at all the right times, make the moves I am supposed to make but the entire time my heart is with someone else. Will this go away? Will I ever be able to do things without thinking about Bastian?
True to his word, Bastian pulls up right outside of the church at the end of the recital. I notice mom and dad watching us. That doesn't even include my sisters. The only ones who don't pay me much attention are Teddy and Hadden.
I run to him. I'll tell him this is a bad idea. That I'm a clinger. That this thing is never going to end well. But as soon as I move over to him and he takes off his sunglasses showing me his beautiful blue eyes I forget all of what I was going to say. I forget everything else but taking his hand and climbing on the back of his bike.
By the time I talk myself into better judgment I am right back at the house I was at this morning. He leads me into the living room and watches as I explore his home. It's nice. Better than nice. It's quaint and cute and I could find myself standing at the sliding glass doors at the back of the kitchen with the sun angling in just right and painting.
No! I can't let myself become all clingy. I have to shut this down before it goes too far. Right?
"Want to grab a drink and sit outside on the deck?"
The mention of the word drink makes my eyes grow rounder with the reminder of what happened last time I let him bring me a drink. He sees this and gives me a laugh before opening his fridge for me to look at the row of cold sodas he has lined on the second shelf. "Just soda this time, babydoll. I promise."
I let him grab two and lead us out on the back deck. The ocean is so pretty here. It's calmer and lays just perfect against the white sandy shore. I'm not sure if I want to paint it or roll in it first. We move to sit in Adirondack chairs that have been placed so the occupant can enjoy the breeze and the setting sun when it happens. I almost hate that I'm going to miss it.
"It's beautiful here." I look over at him after we have sat for a couple of minutes in the quiet with the sound of the surf in the background.
He smiles at me, "I agree. I got so lucky when I found it."
"I could stay out here all day and night long. There's just a peace about it that..."
"Makes you feel safe and at home. Yeah, that was one of the key things I felt when I first walked through. If you come here you can see the lights from the mainland..."
He leans over so I can come closer. I can just barely make out a glint on the horizon. I can see how at night the lights would be noticeable from here. And they will be so pretty. I can tell. Now I'm really sad because I won't be here to look at the lights when they come on.
"It must be beautiful..." I turn my head and find him looking at me instead of the horizon.
"It is." Something tells me he’s not talking about the lights anymore. Before I can stop myself I'm leaning in even closer and our lips meet. In a second, my body catches on fire as his hand comes up to caress my cheek and play with a strand of hair hanging there. "You're so soft. Soft everywhere."
I don't think he's talking to me anymore, so I don't say anything. I'm too afraid I'm going to break the moment. If I do I think I might cry.
"I bet your little pussy is just as soft." His thumb rubs my bottom lip like he might be fantasizing about my pussy which has me thinking about him caressing it too. What would that be like? Would it be anything like how he used his mouth on me earlier today? He pulls my mouth back down to his as both of us end up lost in the moment.
I'm not sure who did it or when it happened but eventually, I end up in the same chair with him, sitting on his lap. My legs are on either side of his and the ocean and breeze are to my back. His hand delves into my hair so he can control the angle of the kiss, but he doesn't try to force anything. Everything that’s happening is something I want to happen. In fact, for something so out of my control I have never felt more in control. I know it doesn't make any sense but that's how it feels.
His hands come down to cup my jean-clad ass as his touch burns through the fabric. He massages the globes of my ass as we spar with our tongues and the heat that I associate with only Bastian gets higher and higher until I'm rocking my hips back and forth over the bulge in his pants.
With every move, every glide across him, I get wetter and wetter. One part of my mind, probably the only one left that can function correctly, is scared I am going to embarrass myself. If I keep doing this, I will because I'm going to get so wet he'll be able to feel it too. My hips slow with that thought but Bastian won't let me slow down.
He pulls his mouth from mine as his hands go back to my face so I have no choice but to look at him. "Don't stop, baby doll. It feels good, doesn't it?"
I nod. Hell yeah, it feels good!
"Then don't stop. It feels good to me too."
His words tear at me. I want to keep going. I am thrilled I'm making him feel as good as I do, but if I keep going he's going to find out. "I...I'm going to ruin your pants if I do."
God, how embarrassing. He takes my mouth in a hard kiss before pulling back again. "I don't give a fuck if you use so much friction getting that sweet pussy off you set my jeans on fire, baby doll." His hands go back down to my ass so he can move me how he wants me. When he works my hips it's much harder, much deeper. My body is quickly losing the ability to give a fuck why I shouldn't be doing this with him. "I want to walk around the whole god damn town with you all over me. Women are going to be able to tell not to even try to fuck with me because they can smell you on me and men are going to realize I'm the envy of the whole damned island."
He holds my hips down hard so that I'm spread open wider. The only time I've been spread further was when he had me on his desk earlier. He kisses me down my neck and finally whispers to me, "I want you to paint me in your pussy cream."
I'm not sure if it's because of my career as an artist or the dirtiness of his words but they affect me. They send me over the edge. All I can do is cry out and hold on to him as my body falls over the edge of my release and I shake through an orgasm.
