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Fortunately I can plead ignorance, so I stand up and place my hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “Baby, who’s this?”
At the endearment, Chip straightens and offers a big paw of a hand for me to shake. I take it and squeeze it tight. A slight grimace appears, but this is a guy who wants to be perceived as invincible so he tries to exert his own power over me. Back when he was lifting and throwing balls all day he might’ve had a chance, but as a coach he’s gone soft. You can see it in the softness of his hands and the slight paunch that he’s trying to hide behind his tucked-in polo.
“Chip Peters, this is Nathan Jackson, my fiancé and Nick’s brother.”
“You’re the Navy SEAL?” Chip pales beneath his dark tan.
“The very one.” I give his hand one more bone-cracking squeeze and then sit down, drawing my chair close to Charlotte.
Trying hard to hide his pain, Chip folds his bruised fingers in the palm of his other hand. “Nice to meet you. Sorry I can’t stay to chat, but I see my group’s waiting for me.”
We watch as he scuttles into a corner booth where two other similarly clad polo-wearing dudes are quaffing beers.
“So is Nick wearing her down, or is there absolutely no chance?” I ask.
“I think as long as she associates Nick with the football team, he’ll never see the inside of her bedroom.”
“What about you, Reese?” I turned to her other best friend.
“I’m a man in search of a soulmate,” Reese says loftily.
“I hope you find him then.” And I do. Maybe I should look up that old seaman and see if he’s still single. Fuck, wait, am I turning into Cupid? Shaking my head, I turn to Charlotte. “You ready to leave, baby?”
I comb my fingers through her soft, fine strands, rubbing the back of her head. Behind her ear, I trace the path of her shunt that drains the excess fluid off her brain. She’s a miracle. I don’t know how I lived without her.
Her head turns toward me, and the slumberous need in her eyes tells me the massage isn’t as relaxing as I had intended.
“When do you go in for a checkup?” I ask gently with a tap at her neck. Her early letters told of quarterly appointments.
“A couple of days.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Alright.” Her words are slurry, as if she has drank too much, but she’s not had a sip today. Time to go.
“See you later, Reese,” I say without looking at him.
“Yeah, yeah. You guys go on. Just leave me here all by my lonesome.”
“Sorry,” she says as she collects her purse.
“You’re not sorry,” Reese replies.
“You’re right. I’m not sorry, but I still love you. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She leans down and gives him a kiss goodbye.
As we step out of the air-conditioned bar into the hot, dry Texas night, Charlotte clings to my side.
“You worked up, baby?” I say, bending down so that my mouth is only inches away from her skin.
She breathes out heavily. “You know I am.”
“Tell me,” I demand. “Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”
“I’m hot,” she says. Her words are barely more than a whisper. “And wet. Aching.”
The desire in her eyes must be the kind that lures sailors toward sirens.
I drag her down the side of the building to the darkest corner I can find. Under the eaves of the roof and partially shaded by a bush, I push her against the rough brick exterior.
“You need to start wearing skirts,” I mutter as my attempt to find exactly how wet is stymied by the fit of her shorts.
Her face tilts toward mine, and I capture her mouth. It tastes of tart sweetness. She curls her hand around my neck to bring me closer, and I manage to wiggle two fingers under the tight lace of her panties.
Some exotic and sexy sound vibrates as I shallowly fuck her with the tips of my fingers, but it’s not enough for either of us.
“Not here,” she moans.
Why not here? my cock asks petulantly. As I marshal the last bits of my self-control, I pull my fingers out. The honey of her cunt glistens on the ends of my fingers. She stares at me as I suck my digits clean.
“Let’s go then,” I say roughly. The ride to her condo is too long, even though it’s only a few minutes away.
We give the security team in her complex a show as I devour her in the corner of the elevator. If she had been wearing a skirt, I’d have been inside her. I content myself with pushing her up against wooden panels and rubbing my erection against her cloth-covered sex. She wraps her legs around my waist as I dry hump her, kissing her savagely. If there was sound on the security feed, they would hear her moans, my grunts, and the wet smack of our mouths.
