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“Could she learn to love you?”
My nostrils flare at her question, my senses filling with Charlotte as if she was in the room with us. The smell of her skin, the sound of her wet pussy echoing around me as my hips meet hers, and the feel of her moan escaping her throat under my hand. All of it gives me hope, but then I remember how she cried in the shower and how her eyes rounded in my truck when my mask came off.
And I give my mother another shake of my head.
Her gentle hands pat my cheek. She leans in close, forcing me to bend and meet her, our foreheads meeting in the middle.
“Then you had better love her hard enough for both of you, my sweet boy.” Her voice breaks.
Her lips press gently to my forehead, and my eyes close as her words truly sink in.
She won’t interfere. I get to keep both my family and Charlotte.
I watch as she climbs the stairs, her hand gripping the banister. “May God forgive me,” she whispers, her words carrying down to where Michael and I stand.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Charlie
I’m hot, too hot.
I huff, shoving at the covers that weigh me down. I kick them off as they tangle around my legs.
My muscles ache, a heaviness in them I’m not used to.
Splaying my arms in front of me, I stretch myself out. It feels great, so I quickly stretch my legs, pointing my toes to the bottom of the bed and releasing a noisy yawn.
The heavy weight on my waist tightens, and I glance down to see a strong, tan forearm thrown over my waist, his wide hand spanning my stomach.
I squeeze my eyes closed and groan.
It happened. All of it was real.
I just had the best night’s sleep of my life on the same night my friends were brutally murdered.
And oh, yeah, one of the men responsible is spooning me.
I’m a horrible fucking human. I deserve to burn with him.
I grasp a large finger in my hand and try to lift it without waking its owner.
“Nuh-uh,” a voice rumbles behind me, and I freeze.
The body behind me stays still. Daniel’s chest continues to rise and fall steadily, so it wasn’t him.
Twisting my neck as far as I can without waking my bedmate, I peer over at the chair in the far corner.
Michael.
Head resting on his hand, one leg folded over the other with his foot on his knee, he is the epitome of chill, and it looks like he’s been there for a while.
The thought makes me shiver.
Suddenly, I am not so hot after all. In fact, I feel very cold and exposed. I eye the crumpled covers at the foot of the bed, but then I remember that he saw more than just my bare thighs last night. Given everything that has happened, Daniel’s brother seeing me in a state of undress isn’t really that big of a deal.
I want to ask what the fuck he’s doing in here, but the tray of breakfast food and orange juice on the dresser next to him is answer enough.
“I thought Daniel might prefer for you to stay in here for a while,” he states, his voice laden with sleep. “Besides” — he smirks — “I had a feeling you might try something.”
