Stone in Love (10 page)

She squirmed out of his arms and backed away as if he had the plague.

“What’s the matter?” Charlie asked.

“Nothing. I think I heard a text chime.” Actually, it had made the sound ten minutes earlier, but she had ignored it then. Now she needed a diversion.

“It’s probably from Ireland.” She grabbed the phone from the coffee table. “Great,” she grumbled under her breath. She tossed the phone onto the sofa and stood. “Better get this placed cleaned up. Ireland’s dad is in town, and he’s staying here tonight.”

In the kitchen, Lindsay threw the aluminum baking pans in the sink and turned on the water. She squeezed the Dawn dish detergent so hard she emptied half the bottle.

Standing on the other side of the counter, Charlie said, “Judging by the amount of detergent you’re using, your dishes must have food gorilla–glued on.”

Lindsay snapped the cap closed and set the bottle on the back of the sink. “I’m just frustrated. Ireland’s dad is a big–shot New Yorker. She seems to think highly of him, but I’m not up to playing hostess tonight. He’s used to five–star accommodations, I’m sure, and this place is a roach motel in comparison.”

Charlie held out a hand. “Give me a rag.”

“What for?”

“I’m going to help you. I’ll wipe off the table and counter, and we’ll be done in no time. And when we’re finished cleaning, we’re going to my place.”

“
We
are?” Lindsay asked, deliberately avoiding eye contact. Using a scouring pad, she scrubbed the crust of the pizza–bites off the pan. The idea wasn’t a bad one, although it was intimidating, as usual. She hadn’t sensed Charlie sneaking up behind her.

Wrapping one arm around her waist, he moved her hair to the side. “Spend the night with me, Lindsay,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

It felt so right in his arms. She didn’t—couldn’t—speak … fearing she’d come out with words of permittance.

“I haven’t longed more for anything in my life,” he said. “Do not deprive me another day, the privilege of loving—”

Lindsay turned and pressed her fingertip to his lips. “Okay … but, please don’t say that.”

The mere word unnerved her, though she couldn’t deny the urgent need that mirrored his. Never had a line been so fragile between sex and love. Could she possibly balance it? That remained to be seen.

SLEEPING AT CHARLIE’S, Lindsay texted with trembling fingers, while Charlie drove. She hoped Ireland didn’t think her rude for not waiting to meet Mr. Corbin. The reason her father had flown into town was to check on Asher, so he’d most likely stay until his son was released from the hospital.

There was a good chance Lindsay and Mr. Corbin would cross paths in the coming days. She had often wondered how the same person created both Asher and Ireland, and how only one had any redeeming qualities.

“Did Ireland mention how Asher was doing in her text earlier this evening?” Charlie said.

Lindsay was glad he’d broken the ice. That was the first thing either of them had said since they’d left for his house, and she had a feeling that he was on edge too.

“They’re expecting he’ll make a complete recovery. He’s staying at the hospital overnight for observation.”

“That’s good,” Charlie said indifferently.

“Even though I think a
full
recovery constitutes a couple of weeks in the psychiatric ward, but that’s just me,” Lindsay added.

They both laughed, and Charlie’s gaze met hers. The traffic light projected through the windshield, creating a crimson glow on Charlie’s face.

His eyes, dilated and wide, studied her with intense longing. Though earlier she’d prevented him from saying the dreaded L–word, the tenderness in his eyes left little doubt.

Charlie unlocked the front door, and the burglar alarm started with its warning chirps, until Charlie entered the disarm code.

“What do you think someone is going to rob—all of your fine artwork?” Lindsay kidded.

“Very funny,” Charlie said. “I told you my house is bare because it’s devoid of a woman’s touch. If I had a photograph of you, that would be a nice start, and I’ll show you just where I’d hang it.” He took her by the hand, switching on a light in the stairway next to the entry hall.

Walking upstairs, each wooden step made a creaking sound that echoed throughout the house. Lindsay thought about what it would take to turn such a large house into a home. It was suitable for a family, she thought, not just a person or two. Of course, she wasn’t imagining
herself
as the mother of that family. The idea of screaming kids didn’t sit well with her. Who then? She almost turned red with jealously thinking of Charlie with some
other
woman and kids. She was beginning to lose it.

At the top of the stairway, they turned to the right and crossed a narrow platform.

“Wow, how did I miss this before?” she said, as they walked across the catwalk leading to a private room. Lindsay stopped, looking down to the living room below. “This is awesome! I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Thanks. I think it’s neat too, not so much because you can look down, but because of the privacy offered at the end.” He took her hand in his. “Come on.”

Charlie closed his bedroom door behind Lindsay. “For all intents and purposes, this is probably more suitable as a playroom or a guest bedroom, but I added the bathroom and turned it into the master. I fell in love with it immediately. It’s my little sanctuary.”

This was the first room in his house, to her knowledge, that had soft carpet. She slipped off her shoes, experiencing the velvety texture beneath her feet. The cottony–clean fragrance that was Charlie still lingered in the room, though it’d been a few hours since he was last home.

The bedroom had a rustic look. The walls were finished with yellow pine tongue–and–groove, as was the ceiling, which was shaped in an A–frame. Lindsay felt more comfortable in his bedroom than she ever had in other parts of his house. It looked … lived in.

A uniform covered in plastic lay on the back of a plush, burgundy recliner. The matching bedspread on the modest queen–size bed was in a tangled heap. A captain’s hat was on the coat rack in the corner, with a couple of baseball caps for good measure. One of them was a Cubs hat.

Rascal!
He’d never mentioned he was a Cubs fan in all of their baseball discussions. She would have teased him about that, what with the curse of the goat and the hundred–year drought and all. At least her team had won a World Series in her lifetime.

Her attention shifted to the intertwining of Charlie fingers with hers. Face to face, Charlie’s gaze was fixed on hers. This was the moment of truth.

Lindsay closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her heart raced, the pulsing strong in her neck. Routinely, she would devour a man at this point. He should be the one spellbound, not her. She wasn’t at all comfortable with this.

Charlie rested his chin on her head, his arms around her.

Lindsay’s legs wobbled beneath her, and her breath quickened.

“Come now, doll, relax,” Charlie whispered.

“I
am
relaxed,” she lied. She felt sick to her stomach.

Charlie pulled back, taking a long look into her eyes. His gaze fell to her lips, followed by the touch of his fingertips upon them. Did he see the weakness in her eyes; feel the trembling of her lips?

She swallowed hard as Charlie lowered his mouth to hers. He descended upon her a warm and gentle kiss, his fingertips tracing down her neck, across her throat. Did he notice the tightening?

His lips barely brushing her neck, he said, “I can see I bring about emotions that are foreign to you. Don’t be afraid.”

Lindsay let out a whimper, finally managing to say, “It’s not like I’ve never done this before.”

“But have you dared to let a man cherish you as I do? Have you let your heart lead you, not your head? Trust me,” he whispered, his kisses lowering to her collarbone. He unbuttoned her shirt, and her skin tingled beneath his touch.

When she was fully unclothed before him, Charlie said, “You take my breath away.”

He reached behind his head for his shirt, and Lindsay helped tug it over his head. They stood chest to chest. “Surrender to me,” he said.

The manifestation of love in his eyes made Lindsay’s own brim with tears. “Everything you said is true. This
is
all new to me. I admit it. I’m afraid, but I want this … I want you, Charlie.”

Charlie caressed her cheek with his fingertips, wiping away a lone tear that had escaped her eye. “I promise, after this you’ll understand what it feels like to be truly loved.”

Chapter Twelve

Sitting on the edge of Charlie’s bed, wrapped in sheets, Lindsay watched nervously as he lit several candles. “It sucks that you’re so put together right now,” she said, “and I’m a wreck.” She needed him to display just the slightest amount of the vulnerablility that she was feeling.

Charlie reached for her hands and pulled her to a standing position. “I’m not that strong,” he said. “You move me—make feel things I never thought possible. I’ve never needed anyone more. You have my heart in your hands.”

She hadn’t expected to hear those words in her lifetime, and found it hard to believe someone could feel that way for her. She looked around the room, brightly lit by all the candles. A gorgeous, ripped, half–naked man waited patiently, eager to love her, and she could no longer deny him. She took a deep breath and let go of the sheets around her. “My mind is made up.”

Charlie’s gaze roamed up and down her body. He leaned closer. “And?”

She weaved her fingers into his hair and touched her forehead to his. “Life is short. It’d take a supernatural intervention to keep me from loving you tonight.”

Charlie wrapped his arms around her, his forearms resting against her back, his hands grasping her shoulders. Her neck tilted, and he kissed rows down each side.

Lindsay’s eyes rolled back at the heat of his breath on her skin. He eased her down onto the bed and positioned her hands above her head, his fingers intertwined with hers. He kissed her mouth, slowly moving to her neck, her ear. Chills erupted down her arms when he exhaled and groaned against her ear. She loved that sound; she hadn’t heard Charlie make a sound like that before, and wanted to hear it again.

His kisses lowered, and Lindsay kept her eyes on him as he took a nipple in his mouth. His eyes were closed, but hers were unblinking, watching the candlelight illuminate his face, intense with desire.

His tongue flicked, sucked, and bit down ever so gently. She arched her back at the sensation, pressing her breast hard against his mouth.

He moved to the other side. Her lips parted, and instinctively, she laced both hands behind his head. The warmth from his mouth matched the heat building inside her. The trail of delightful kisses cascaded to her navel, moistening it with a seductive swirl.

He inched lower, out of her reach, taking her by the wrists and moving her hands to her sides. Slowly, he left a path of tender kisses in his wake, leaving no part of her glistening skin untouched.

The sheets of the unmade bed gathered between her legs, obstructing his access, and he tugged them out of the way, filling the empty space with his head and shoulders.

Already wild with need, he almost sent her over the edge when he blew along her inner thigh. She bit her lip and squirmed beneath him, holding in the urge to cry out. Taking his time, he kissed and licked higher, finally reaching the place she so needed him to find.

His tongue was soft and pliable at times, lazily exploring her; other times, solid and stiff, lingering on its target. Lindsay gripped the sheets at her sides, somersaults turning in her belly. Her back arched violently, wave upon wave of endless spasms flowing over her, until her body went lax.

Charlie’s head came to rest against her thigh. “Beautiful, baby,” she heard him say through his own labored breathing.

He made his way up, meeting her welcoming, half–drunken gaze. He drew back at the sight of her. Her hair spilling around her; her pretty oval face flushed with pink cheeks; her natural ripe, rose lips.

“What?” she asked, with a lazy smile on her lips.

Charlie shook his head and swallowed the huge lump in his throat.

“I … the words escape me. I can’t express how beautiful you are. I swear, sometimes, you make me stop right in my tracks.”

Lindsay blinked and looked away. “I don’t know what to say. I’m not used to being put up on a pedestal.”

A finger on her chin, Charlie gently turned her toward him, “Well, get used to it. I’m here to stay, and you’ll never get anything less from me.”

His mouth covered hers, and a low groan escaped him once again. The sound reverberated from her own lips when he entered her with slow finesse. So slowly, in fact, she couldn’t stand the tease. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling his head into the dip of her neck. “Don’t hold back,” she said in his ear.

He raised his head and looked her in the eye. “Are you sure?”

She smiled. “Positive.” She pressed her calf against his butt, coercing him in. There was a burning stretch, followed by a cooling sensation. She bit her lip and opened her eyes wide. Within eyeshot of the nightstand, she noticed the torn fire–and–ice condom wrapper.

She gripped the outside of Charlie’s arms, pushing him back. “Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about a condom. I see you didn’t. Thank you. I got caught up in the moment, and I didn’t think about it.”

Oops, that didn’t sound good
. She cringed as soon as she said it. She didn’t want Charlie to think she considered safe sex an afterthought. In the past, it was always her highest priority. It’s just with Charlie, she already felt safe—taken care of.

“I would never risk your health or put you in harm’s way. Don’t you see how much I care for you? You’ll always come first, no matter what.” He rested his head on her chest. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m okay.” If she could be completely honest right now, she’d say how much she wanted to feel him, with no barrier between them. But, that wasn’t the responsible thing to do, so she kept it to herself.