Frenched Series Bundle (77 page)

Outside the restaurant, Laura shook my hand and said it was nice to meet me. “Madison is going to love you. Probably too much.”

“Thank you. I know I’ll adore her. I’m not a mom, so I can’t imagine how protective you must feel, but I’m very grateful you trust me enough to spend time with her.”

Charlie pulled me into his arms. “Thank you. We have a lot to talk about,” he whispered in my ear, “but I’d like to thank Laura for meeting us and giving me this chance.”

“Yes. You should.” I pulled back. “Call me on the way home, all right?”

“I will.” He squeezed my hand one last time, and I walked away.

I could have skipped to my car, I felt so light-hearted. Things were good—better than good. Better than they’d ever been, in fact.

Plus we had reunion sex ahead of us, and if that didn’t put an extra spring in anyone’s step, what would?

#

My cell phone rang after I’d been driving for about fifteen minutes.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me.” His voice sent a thrill zipping up my spine, and darting between my legs.

“Hi, you.”

“Want to get naked tonight?”

I burst out laughing. “That’s getting right to the point.”

“I can’t help it. I haven’t seen you in so long. It’s a good thing you spilled that ice water on my lap today, otherwise I’d have been fighting a hard-on for that entire lunch.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I had wet panties the moment I saw you smile at me across the room.”

“Did you really?”

“No!” I yelled. “Are you kidding? I was so nervous, I could barely walk!”

He groaned. “You’re mean. Good thing I love you.”

My heart fluttered. “Good thing.”

“Can I take you to dinner tonight? Somewhere nice?”

The last thing I wanted to do was sit through a long dinner at a nice restaurant, unable to touch him. I had a better idea, but I’d let it be a surprise. “Sure. I’ll be ready at eight.”

By seven forty-five, I was practically climbing out of my skin with anticipation. I’d been racing around for six hours straight—I bought new underwear, grocery shopped, changed the sheets, chilled some wine, stuffed a chicken, put my hair up in a twist—desperately filling the hours until I saw him again. When his car pulled in my driveway at a few minutes before the hour, I pulled open the door and raced back to the stove, as if I were innocently stirring something on the burner. In reality, the meal was on the dining room table already.

I heard the door shut and peeked over one shoulder at him. Oh dear God. He was wearing a suit. “How was your day, darling?” I asked in my most sultry voice.

He smiled, a slow sexy grin that told me he’d missed me as much as I’d missed him.

Or maybe it was because I wore nothing but a dark red lace bra and panties, high heels, and a smile.

“It just got a hell of a lot better.”

“Hungry? You’re just in time for dinner.”

His eyes traveled down to my shoes and back up, his brain exploring ideas my body could feel. “What if I want dessert first?”

“Ah ah ah,” I scolded, pulling a wine bottle from the fridge. “Follow me, please. I
slaved
all day,” I said, putting a little extra hip into my walk. “And if you’re nice and eat all your dinner, I’ll let you be my master later.”

One side of his mouth hooked up. “Deal.”

I led him into the candle-lit dining room, which was laid out with a feast—spinach salad with warm bacon dressing, roasted chicken and vegetables, fresh bread and butter. (In the fridge was a peach and vanilla puff pastry pie, which I’d cheated and bought at the bakery, but he didn’t need to know that.)

I let Charlie choose where he wanted to sit and poured the wine. I had classical music playing at a low volume, adding to the elegant atmosphere. In fact, between the white Irish linens, my grandmother’s china, the Waterford crystal wine glasses my mother had given me for Christmas, the candles, and Charlie’s suit, the entire scene had a sort of formal air—except for the fact that I was dining in see-through underwear.

We didn’t talk much during dinner. I actually had a thousand things I wanted to say…not the least of which was I love you…but I was content to let it go for now and just enjoy being in the same room with him, the air between us growing heavy with unspoken desire.

At one point Charlie did tease me a little. “What’s the heat at, about eighty?” He loosened his tie.

“Seventy-five.” I grinned. “I could turn it down, but then I’d have to put on a sweater.”

We locked eyes. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch it.”

When we’d finished dessert, I cleared the dishes, refusing Charlie’s help. And for once, I didn’t give a shit about cleaning up right away, so I left them all piled on the island. Back in the dining room, Charlie was still sitting at the table. “Can I get you anything else?” I asked, sidling up to him.

“Yes. You can get your ass on my lap.”

There wasn’t much space between his body and the table, but I thought I could manage it. Grateful for twenty-five years of dance training, I unfolded a leg gracefully over his lap, and settled my hips over his. His cock stirred beneath me.

With one fingertip, he traced my collarbone, my shoulder, my lips. “I want you,” he said, his voice low and firm. “Like I’ve never wanted anyone before.”

My breath hitched.

“It’s the strangest feeling—to love someone this way.” He slid both hands down the sides of my ribs to the small of my back. “I want to protect you. Cherish you. Worship you.” He gripped my ass hard, pulled me tight to him and spoke right in my ear. “But then I want to fuck you so hard it hurts. Take your body. Claim it. Make it mine.”

“Yes,” I whispered, threading my hands into his hair as he devoured my throat, understanding that need perfectly. Mine was to be protected and cherished and worshiped, but also bossed around, handled hard, torn apart. “Do it. Take it. Make me yours.” I moved my hips over his, grinding against the hardness between us. Pulling his head up, I kissed his lips, his cheek, his forehead. Arching back, I brought his head to my chest and sighed as he worked his mouth on my nipples through the mesh and lace of my bra. “I’ve never wanted to give myself to anyone before, not like this.” Growing impatient to get him inside me, I moved my hands to his pants, unbuttoned them.

“Wait.”

Surprised, I stopped. “Wait?”

He moved the chair back and raised me to standing with his hands on my hips. “First I want to watch you.”

“Watch me?”

“Yes.” He moved his chair back even further, leaving me standing two feet in front of him.

“Watch me do what?”

“Touch yourself.”

My back stiffened. I’d never done this before and hadn’t anticipated it. I swallowed. “What?”

“You heard me. Touch yourself. You can leave the panties on.”

I’d been in my underwear all night, but I suddenly felt much more exposed than I had before. Tentatively, I brought three fingertips to my pussy.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice like the rustle of silk. “Your nipples, too.”

With one hand massaging my clit, I brought the other to my breast, teasing the stiff peak through the lace. The entire time, I kept my eyes on him, drank in all the little details that had blood rushing to my core—the tie pulled slightly askew, the white cuffs resting over his thighs, the flicker of the candlelight in his eyes, the firm set of his jaw as he fought the urge to touch me.

“Good girl.” His fingers flexed. “I love watching you. You’re so beautiful.”

“Tell me.” I pushed down one side of my bra, exposing one breast. “Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything.”

“Make yourself come.”

Oh God. Could I? With him watching? In the dining room?

Oh, just do it. For fuck’s sake, you do it all the time. Share it with him. Then he’ll owe you a show of his own…

At the thought of watching him come, my breath came in quick, shallow bursts. I began to move my fingers in just the right way, with just the right pressure. Damp heat seeped through the lace and mesh. A sound of pleasure escaped my throat.

“Look at me.”

I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes.

“Are you wet?” Barely-suppressed desire oozed through his whispered words.

“Yes.”

“Are you close?”

“Y-yes.” In fact, my legs were about to buckle. I leaned back against the dining table.

As soon as I did, Charlie jumped up from the chair and grabbed the burning pillar candle I’d nearly toppled. He blew it out and set it off to one side before pushing me back all the way. Opening my thighs, he lowered his mouth to my pussy, ravaging me with his lips and tongue through the soaked lingerie. Crying out, I came immediately, my body convulsing on the table, my fingers buried in his hair.

When the shock waves subsided, I raked my nails across his scalp. “That felt so good,” I whispered. “But I thought you wanted to watch me do it.”

“I overestimated my patience.” His voice was rough, gravelly. “It’s been too long.” He kissed his way up my belly to my breasts, circling each nipple with his tongue, making me arch up beneath him. Finally he sealed his mouth to mine, kissing me with the flavor of peach and vanilla and sex on his lips.

“Charlie Dwyer,” I whispered, placing my hands on the sides of his face, lifting his head. “I’m so in love with you.”

He smiled. “Is that your orgasm talking?”

I laughed, running my hands through his short, thick hair. “No. It’s the truth. I’m in love with you. You make me so happy.”

“I want to.” He kissed me again. “I want to make you happy more than anything. Forever.”

“Well, forever is nice, but you know what would make me happy right now?”

He put his lips at my ear. “You want to get fucked on the dining room table.”

My nipples tingled. “Yeah. Hard.”

He straightened up and reached into his back pocket. A moment later, I felt him tugging down the drenched panties, then he curled his hands around the outsides of my thighs, hitching them up to his hips. Hooking my fingers over the edge of the table, I dug my heels into his ass, pulling him closer. “Jesus, your legs are incredible,” he rasped as he slid inside me. “I want them wrapped around me twenty-four hours a day.”

“Oh God,” I breathed as he pulled out and slid deep, over and over. The way my hips were tilted up afforded him an angle that had the tip of his cock hitting that spot deep inside me, the one that tightened my core muscles involuntarily, as if to grab on and keep him there.

He brought his thumb to my sensitive little button and rubbed slow, wet circles on it, making me shiver and pant. The nerve endings were so stimulated I felt electrical pulses shooting from my center through my limbs, every vein a live wire, a lit fuse.

“Charlie,” I whimpered. “I’m on fire. Do it.”

But he kept the same torturously slow pace with his cock, easy and steady and sweet, while his thumb drove me mad with the need to be fucked hard and fast. Did he want me to beg?

“Charlie.” I squeezed him with my legs, fisted my hands in the tablecloth. “Please. Harder.”

He laughed before plunging into me so hard and deep I bit my tongue. Then he did it again. And again. And again.

“Like
that
?” he snarled, his fingers digging into my thighs. “Is
that
how she
wants
to be
fucked
on her
dining
room
table
?” He punctuated words with sharp jabs of his cock I swear I could feel between my ribs. And I loved it when he talked that way, like it was a fantasy I was directing and starring in.

“Yes, yes…” I dropped my head to the side as he changed the rhythm to quick, rocking thrusts, his thumb working faster. “Just like that. Oh fuck…” My lower body tightened up again, my muscles contracting with exquisite torture. Oh God, so close, so close, the most beautiful kind of madness… “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” I snaked my fingers in my hair, yanking it from the neat twist into a wild mess. “Never stop. Promise me you won’t ever stop.”

“Never,” he growled, and this time the word
never
had me smiling deliriously as he took us both beyond the brink. Over and over again our bodies throbbed together, releasing the pent-up tension of too much time apart and sharing the thrill of a new beginning.

#

Later, we sat on the couch by a crackling fire with our Christmas presents on the table in front of us. Charlie had removed his coat and tie and rolled the cuffs of his shirt, and I’d put on dry panties and a t-shirt, although Charlie had voted for topless.

He’d brought one gift for me, a medium-sized box wrapped in holiday paper and topped with a shiny red bow.

“I have two presents for you.” I smiled ruefully, glancing at the two boxes for him on the table. “I got you a bottle of whiskey too, but I opened it already.”

He laughed. “Did you finish it?”

“No.”

“Then pour some.”

“I will, but open this present first.” I handed him the smaller of the two gifts.

He unwrapped the old-fashioned glasses and took them out, a smile on his face. They were etched—one said Yours; the other, Mine. “Adorable.”

“Too girly?” I wrinkled my nose.

“Not at all. I love them. They are now the nicest glasses I own, as you will realize once you brave seeing my kitchen, which is a hodgepodge of junk I’ve collected over the years.”

I shuddered. “Fear not. I will help you organize. It will be my project for this year.”

He leaned over and kissed my head. “Thanks.”

I rinsed the new glasses and poured us each a small amount of the Christmas whiskey. “Now this one.” I handed him the big box. He opened it up and laughed when he saw the stack of towels.

“Perfect. Now I don’t have to steal them from your house one at a time, like I planned. Although.” He looked at me sideways. “Does this mean I can’t shower here anymore?”

“Not at all. You can get naked and wet here any time you want, Officer Dwyer.”

“Mmm.” He slipped one hand to the back of my neck and kissed my lips, soft and sweet. “I’m about to take you up on that, but first it’s your turn.” Setting the towels aside, he picked up the gift for me and placed it on my lap.

I unwrapped it carefully, smiling when I saw the SJ Lingerie on the box. Inside was a beautiful ivory lace corset slip and pearl thong. I held up the thong and smiled slyly at Charlie. “Is this a hint that my white cotton underwear is not sexy?”

He nodded but said, “No, of course not.”

Laughing, I punched his shoulder, then kissed his cheek. “It’s beautiful. Thank you. Want me to put it on?”

“Yes. But I have another gift for you.”

“Another gift! But you already gave me the skates, too. This is too much—you’re spoiling me.”

He kissed the tip of my nose. “I like spoiling you. But I’m not sure if you’ll like this gift.”

I dismissed that with a wave of my hand. “If you picked it out for me, I’m positive I’ll adore it.”

“Don’t speak to soon. This one might be a little shocking.” He reached over and took his coat from the back of the couch, pulling something out of the inside pocket.