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He chuckles. “You got no idea. What time is it? Like two or sommat? We’ll go find Gabe in the morning, yeah? Gimme tonight, just you and me.”
I check the clock on the telly.
“It’s almost four. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“I’m not. I’da been ragey if you’d come back and left me sleeping. Don’t you know how fucking much I’ve missed you?”
“Sorry.” I arch against him, letting my body fit against the angles and curves of his. “Sorry, Chaz. I’ve missed you more’n anything. There’s been a huge fucking hole in the middle of me. I need my lad.”
“Your lad’s right here. Waitin’ for you. Just like I’ll always be,” Charlie says, before he pushes in for a kiss that leaves my lips throbbing. “Stay with me, yeah? We’ll find Gabe in the morning.”
Oh, I’ll find Gabe all right. And Darwin. I have a few choice words for both of them. I told Darwin not to do this, not to cut Charlie out. I told him it was the one thing I wouldn’t forgive.
And Gabe? Gabe was right here, in this fucking bed, when Charlie said that if he lost me, he’d hold on to Gabe tighter. Gabe had the same choice, and he turned his back on Charlie and chose Darwin? I’ve given that lad my everything. And this is what he does? This is how deep his loyalty runs?
With anger heating my blood, I return Charlie’s hard kisses, push my hips against his. “Nothing stopping us, Chaz.”
He lifts his head enough to look into my eyes. “Yeah? Now?”
“Now,” I say, pushing away the memory of future-Gabe saying that to me, just a few minutes ago. Ten years from now. He might be my future, but Charlie truly is my now and he’s waited long enough.
I slide my hand under the Bevington Swingers T-shirt Charlie’s worn to bed, exploring the planes of his abs with my fingertips. Even relaxed, he has ridges. I’d tickle him if he was even slightly ticklish. Instead, I run my finger up and down the indentation from his belly button to the bottom of his ribs until his breathing deepens.
He sits up, pushing me back to straddle him, and pulls his shirt off. Unlike Gabe, he doesn’t reach back over his head. He hooks his neckline with two fingers and tugs it over his head. The move still makes his muscles ripple. It’s so Charlie. There’s no vanity to him. Never has been. He never poses. He’s just Charlie.
“Chaz,” I whisper, not because there’s anyone to hear us, just because it suits the intimacy of the moment. He smiles, white teeth flashing in the deep gloom of our bedroom, and tugs on the “I Brake For Unicorns” tee I borrowed from future-Gabe. I let Charlie pull it off me, then lift enough that we can both push off our shorts. When he stretches out underneath me, I run my hands up his torso, enjoying the hard planes beneath his smooth skin, until I reach the little patch of hair between his pecs. I tug on it until he grunts. “You’re gorgeous. Always have been. Even before when I wasn’t supposed to notice. I did, you know.”
He traces my jaw with his fingertips. “Yeah, I know. I saw you lookin’. You never made a move, though. So I never did, neither. I was afraid of wrecking our friendship.”
I nod and turn my head so I can kiss his fingers. “I’m still afraid of that sometimes.”
“Yeah, your crotch gnome makes it dead hard to stay friends. Actually, yours is more like a goblin or sommat.”
I batter him.
Chapter8
Soft Spots
Laughing, he pulls me down onto his chest, pins me to his long body, and kisses my face off.
“Stop fussin’. Doesn’t matter what you’ve got going on down there.” He trickles his fingers down the curve of my spine, making me wriggle. “Doesn’t matter if we never shag—although we fucking better—I’ll always be your guy.”
I wrap my arms around his neck. “Chaz.”
He slides his hands down to cup my arse. “Get up and sit on my face. I need a conversation with your goblin.”
“Fuck no, Charlie. I’ll smother you.”
“I don’t mind dyin’ for a worthy cause. C’mon.”
I try to get into it, but hovering over his head on my knees, gripping onto the wall while lowering myself into a strained squat, is too weird. Laughing his arse off, Charlie tips me backwards onto the bed. With barely a pause, he drops his face between my thighs.
“Fuck, Chaz.”
He grunts happily while working his tongue over my clit so hard I see stars. The fast flicking makes me throb and ache and wriggle so hard he clamps his forearm around the backs of my thighs to hold me still. I wait for his fingers, but they don’t come. It’s all tongue and lips, and the occasional nudge from the tip of his nose.
I never know where he’s going to touch next. There’s no pattern to what he’s doing; he’s just reveling in every taste, every texture, every whimper and moan he wrings out of me. I’m so sure he’s not going to let me come that I don’t even reach for it. I just ride the sensations, focusing on each fresh touch, until he reaches up and clamps his hand around my throat.
