Charity's Passion (7 page)

I can also hear Justin’s thrill at seeing me climax like this. “You’re amazing. Cum for me, Charity. Cum all over me." His fingers move faster. His other hand has stopped smacking my ass and is now simply holding me open wide for my unending orgasm. There’s isn’t even time to catch my breath. I feel dizzy and there’s no way Justin will let up, not until my orgasm subsides on its own. I honestly have no idea where this one is coming from. All I can think is that he’s dragging it out of me by force and the moment I feel it may finally end it surges back up again with a vengeance.

Finally, after several minutes, I am able to breathe and my head stops spinning. It begins to subside and I expect Justin to give me a moment to recover, but he denies me that peace. He leans back on the couch and lifts me into the air, one arm around my body and the other pulling my hair, until I am in his lap with my back to him. With one fleeting motion, his swollen cock is in me.

“Fuck me,” he orders. “I don’t care how tired you are. I don’t want your excuses; I want you to use your beautiful body. Show me what you can do."

Not knowing where I find the strength, I lean forward with my hands on his thighs and I begin to lift myself up seven or eight inches only to drop myself back down on him—hard—feeling his manhood slamming to its hilt in me. I get myself into a rhythm. The chain between my breasts is bouncing off my body every time I fill myself with him. Justin’s hands dig into my waist and pull me back to him as if I’m trying to get away.

The running of his hot stiffness into my warrior opening brings on set of soft convulsions, a gentle climax that had been waiting patiently for him to be inside me. It makes me feel warm and safe like I needed and I want to return the favor to my love. I lean even further forward, knowing the view I am giving him, and I start to slam up and down as fast as I can on his thick pole.

“Holy Christ!” he screams. I feel his hips thrusting beneath me.

“Don’t move,” I tell him. “Let me take care of you.”

I slide myself up and down his shaft without hesitation, turning the sensation into a blur of pleasure. Suddenly I see Justin’s hand grabbing at the cushions and he lets out a low, familiar growl as his climax releases. His body becomes a flexing hardness under me until his voice turns into a howl. He seizes, lifting me up into the air as he arches off the couch. I keep my balance and I don’t slow down until he lowers me and I’m sure that he’s finished.

I hear him catching his breath as I pull myself off his manhood and turn around to collapse on his chest. He only thing between us is the chain and nipple clamps. They tug lightly as I press into his body, and I’m fine with the spasms they send to my groin.

“I adore you, Warrior,” he confesses in a tired, spent voice. His heaving chest rocks me up and down. I don’t bother with a reply; I just curl up further on his chest.

He knows exactly what that means.

WHILE WE WAIT FOR
a table at the Chelsea Brewing Company, Garrett suggests we have drinks at the bar. We all agree, since you can't go to a microbrewery and not order a beer, so we each order something different and take turns trying each other's. Of course the boys are fine with their choices, but Trisha and I end up trading. For the first time in days, Justin looks relaxed. Katy Perry just started singing “
Dark Horse
” over the speakers, “Make me your Aphrodite.”
Yes please
. He leans on the wide mahogany bar and smiles at me.

Almost a year later and his beautiful face still makes my knees wobble with nothing more than a look. Those bright green eyes sparkle at me as if a million thoughts are passing behind them.

“What are you thinking about when you look at me like that?” I ask full of curiosity.

Without changing his expression a bit, he winks at me and continues to stare. I call him a jerk but it’s obvious that I mean the complete opposite.

Garret and Trisha are ridiculous to watch and it’s getting absolutely frustrating. Their love is an obvious force of life all on its own; watching them deny it is killing me. I get it, I do. The last thing I want is for them to go into a relationship before either is ready and fuck it all up. But Jesus Christ—they’re so perfect and sweet. He talks and she laughs. When she laughs, he swoons.

I’ve already told each of them that they’re already dating they just don’t know it yet.

Right now Garrett is looking at her the exact same way Justin is looking at me, and I believe I’m the only one that notices it. Trisha giggles and touches his arm and he melts. After that he turns toward the bar to lift his glass and Trisha has a free moment to drink him in unseen by him.

“It’s killing you, isn’t it?” Justin asks quietly, making me laugh.

“Yes, it is,” I admit.

“It’ll happen in their own time,” Justin says, sliding a strong arm around me.

I lean closer to him, admiring his jawline as I always do. I put my finger up and he knows I want him to kiss it; I do it all the time. He obliges and then I press my finger into his chin which is the part that ticks him off. “I’m so glad you made me kiss myself again,” he teases.

Eventually the pager goes off so we check back with the hostess and we're brought to our table. Justin and Garrett both hold out the chair for us girls. Really, where the hell have these guys been hiding and how did they end up so much alike without ever knowing each other growing up?

Our waiter, once he finally shows up, is short with everyone and I see the agitation in Justin’s face. I made him promise me tonight that he would just be Justin, just my boyfriend, so he’s ignoring the rudeness—for now. He suffers through a long wait until the waiter returns to see if we need drinks or anything, which is pretty much how he asked us. Obviously he’s having a rough day.

Somewhere during appetizers, Justin manages to make me forget all about Garrett and Trisha and he pretends to not care about our poor service. His alluring gaze makes me feel that we are the only ones here, and his gentle touches flirt with my heart. He makes me love him more with every moment we are together.

I can’t wait until we are married. My heart skips a beat at the thought.

“And what were you just thinking,” he quickly asks me.

Oh fuck yeah, time for some turn around
. I simply smile and wink at him the same way he did to me a bit ago.

His sexy, wonderful laughter rolls with his head back and blonde hair shaking. “You got me,” he concedes. “That was good, I’ll give you that.”

Tonight he’s done very well not using his power and influence, letting us enjoy the wait at the bar like normal people, something he knows I enjoy, but I can see an impatience growing in his face now, wanting to speed up our service. JP is coming, I can sense it. Trisha has grown used to seeing his alter ego around the office, and if she wasn’t wrapped up in Garrett she’d see it happening as well. He eyes up our waiter who I’m surprised hasn’t burst into flames.

Softly, I place my hand on Justin’s thigh and it draws his attention toward me long enough for me to give him a look that tells him to stop, that it’s okay. His hand covers mine, but he doesn’t fully concede. “I’ll be as nice about it as I can,” he says in a controlled voice. “But your glass has been empty for ten minutes.”

“I can wait,” I say honestly.

“You can,” he agrees, “but you shouldn’t.”

Without a moment more, he catches the attention of the host and waves him over. Garrett has caught onto it and he’s being watchful without tipping Trisha off, but I don’t think that’s going to matter for long. The waiter looks annoyed at seeing his boss summoned, and for Christ’s sake—and his own safety—I wish he wouldn’t do that.

When the host reaches us, Justin lets my hand fall off his leg and slides his chair back away from the table so that his voice will not carry through everyone. Roughly ten seconds pass and only Justin’s mouth has moved. The host had leaned in closer to Justin, but now he’s upright and alert with a face as white as a human can get.

“I’m so very sorry, Sir. I will take care of this immediately.” Justin holds out his hand and the host takes it fearfully. I know there’s at least a thousand dollars passing from palm to palm right now. The host smiles as wide as he can muster, without any apparent sign of a spine, and he steps away.

“Everything okay?” Trisha asks, finally catching on that something is happening.

“It is now,” Justin answers, offering a satisfied smile to the table.

Moments later a new waitress appears with drinks for us all. She’s nervous but hiding it well behind an air of professionalism while Garrett and Trisha return to their annoying oblivion.

“Did you get him fired?” I ask quietly.

“Absolutely not,” Justin replies, but doesn’t offer me anything more.

Our appetizers vanish, leaving behind only their empty plates as proof they had even been there. Not long after that a busboy approaches and begins to clear the table for us. He’s as quiet as a church mouse and more unassuming then a person should me, avoiding all facial contact. Justin’s eyes stay on him though, staring angrily but contently. That’s when I realize how familiar the busboy looks, his hair and body language and I understand completely.

After the leaves our table I find Justin watching me. “It’s just for tonight,” he tells me. “I know how you would feel if I did anything more, so I thought it was appropriate that he just had tonight as a reminder of how to treat guests at his tables, especially my Warrior. Tomorrow he will be back to his old job and counting his tips.”

I can live with that, and my face tells Justin he did it right. My hand returns to his thigh and gives it a well-deserved squeeze. “Thank you,” I mouth barely above a whisper.

“Anything for you, Warrior,” he says to me.

Trisha fixes her beautiful, dark Italian hair away from her wide smile. “Wasn’t that guy our waiter before?” She asks.

Yeah—I snort-laugh in front of everyone! “Dammit!” I breathe, making them all laugh at me.

Once again, one of Justin’s strong arms curl around me, protectively and consolingly, and he pulls me toward him to kiss me gently on top of my embarrassed head.

“Fuck! I love that laugh, girl,” Trisha bellows. She manages to make me feel normal, holding her beer up and waiting for me to grab mine and tap it to hers.

Embrace it bitch
, I tell myself. I scoop up my glass and press it against hers and I say, “Chug it!”

“You’re on,” she replies.

And then we’re off. My throat complains at the large fizzing gulps ripping through it but I don’t want to stop. I hear Justin and Garrett laughing, and feel some of my beer dripping down my chin, but my embarrassment disappears with my beer.

Of course Trisha’s empty glass hits the table long before mine. “Never mess with a Sicilian when death is on the line,” she quotes at the high end of her range.

I almost choke on the last of my beer. “Oh my God, Princess Bride. I love that movie!”

Trisha high-fives me. “Nice! I didn’t think anyone would get that but me,” she says. The boys look confused as hell, but they don’t need to understand this one.

“Of course I got it,” I say. “Justin is my Westley.”

“Impossible,” Trisha says. “I’m the beautiful Princess Buttercup and Garrett is the Dread Pirate Roberts.”

We laugh at the boys for having no clue, but I’m also excited to hear Trisha admit something like that in front of Garrett. She’s finally coming out of her defensive shell for him, even if he doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.

“Inconceivable!” Justin shouts.

Holy fucking shit!
He’s seen the movie!

“Right,” Garrett agrees. “I’ve always thought of myself more as Inigo Montoya. Of course, he does become the Dread Pirate Roberts in the end.” Garrett looks Trisha in the eyes, stunning us that he's seen at as well. “But I get the reference and I’m flattered.”

And that’s what Trisha looks like when she blushes.

Now it’s out there. It’s been said, her feelings admitted. Trisha recovers quickly—of course, hello, it’s Trisha—and she moves a little closer to the comfort of Garrett.

I’ll give them the Buttercup and Westley characters, the love that endured the funniest tragedies. Justin and I are more like Beauty and the Beast anyway.

I’ve broken his curse, but left just enough beast in him to satisfy me
.

J
ohn Roberts looks perfectly comfortable, as he should. This is Justin’s training facility and Justin works for him. Arthur Shea, on the other hand, is far from comfortable. Until some months ago, Justin was his enemy, killing off almost everyone important in Shea’s pocket. He could look at it that Justin’s now works for him as well as Roberts, but that isn’t putting Shea any more at ease.

Here, Justin is the ruler—even over Roberts. With a word, either man could vanish from existence right now; one simple command from Justin and it could be fast and painless, or it could go on for weeks. When we walked in, we could all feel the weight of their eyes on us.