Text Appeal (26 page)

She
slid
her hands under the buttons of his shirt,
then
pulled him into her apartment. The second the door shut, she was on him, hands at his belt,
her
mouth at his neck.

He groaned. “That’s one hell of a greeting, but if you have what I think you do under that robe, I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you rush me.”

She laughed but persisted at his belt.

Charlie stopped her hands, giving her fingertips a gentle squeeze. “Before you get too carried away, I think I have something you might want to see.”

With a grin she unzipped his pants and slid her hand inside. She pressed the palm of her hand against his erection. “You have something I want to see all right.”

Before she could distract him further, he slid the DVD case in front of her face.

She raised a brow and stilled her hand.
“Mood music?”

“Apparently, your father told the surveillance manager to destroy this.
Griminski
thought I might like to keep it.”

Her jaw dropped as she looked at the case, then back up at him. “So that’s…?”

“It is.”

She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. “What are you going to do with it?”

He backed away from her, aware she was watching his every move as he put the DVD in the player.

“Charlie, I don’t think I want to see—”

“Don’t you?”

Her cheeks flushed a deep red. “I haven’t done anything like this before.”

Charlie grabbed the remote and pressed play. The screen showed Riley wrapped in his arms, him whispering in her ear and kissing the column of her neck.

Charlie dropped the remote on the couch and positioned himself behind her.

“This is embarrassing,” she said softly.

He snaked his arm around her to the tie on her robe, parting it with flick of his wrist and exposing beautiful breasts, brimming at the top of thin black lace.

His gaze flickered between Riley on the screen—clawing at his shirt, frantic—and the Riley in his arms—
breath
accelerating, her hard nipples pressing against lace.

He pressed his mouth to her neck. She swallowed hard as his hand cupped her breast, his fingers toying with her puckered nipple.

He pressed his other hand flat against her belly, pulling her closer to him, letting her feel his erection at her back.

She gasped. Charlie didn’t know if the gasp came from the work of his fingers of the sight of him on screen, sinking to his haunches and pressing his face between her legs.

He slipped his hand lower, cupping her swollen sex. He moved his mouth to her ear. “I can feel how wet you are through your panties.”

Her breath hitched, and he maneuvered under the lace, wanting to feel her slick, wet flesh against his fingers.

Her lids fluttered closed as he slid a finger into her, but she opened them again, watching the screen, mesmerized by the erotic images there. She was so wet on his fingers,
so
tight as she pulsed around him. He wanted to be inside her.

Charlie withdrew his hand, and she whimpered in protest. He pulled her robe over her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. He drew in a sharp breath at the sight of her.

In thigh-highs and black lace panties that exposed more ass than they covered, she was a wet dream. The heat in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder filled him with unexpected tenderness.

She turned to him and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. When it hung open, she ran her fingers along the path of fine hair that tapered down from his chest and over his abdomen.

“You do something to me,” he said, his voice coming out rough.
“No one.
Never before.”
Emotion sat like thick cotton in his throat, keeping the words from forming right.

She grinned. “And here I thought you were a seasoned lover.”

“I’m not talking about sex,” he said.

She pressed her lips to the tender spot on the side of his neck and molded herself to him until his erection pressed into her belly. “Well, why not?”

He dropped his head to kiss her, to tell her with lips and tongue just what she meant to him. He trailed his lips along her jaw line and down to her throat. The sound of her moan had him closing his eyes and praying for patience he didn’t feel.

“Your mouth might not be talking about sex, but other parts of you sure are.”

He silenced her with another kiss, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and tasting his fill of her. By the time he pulled away, she was breathless and tugging off his shirt. Gone was the teasing siren. Riley wanted him, and she wanted him now. He planned to use that to his fullest advantage.

He led her to the floor. She kept her green eyes locked on him as he carefully settled beside her.

Shackling her wrists in one hand, he traced lines down the center of her body with the other. She released another sweet moan, arching her hips.

He slipped his hand between her legs, circling her sex where he knew she wanted him to touch. She squirmed in protest. “Has any other man ever made you feel this way, Riley?”

“No, never.”
She swiveled her hips in a vain attempt to guide his hand where she wanted it.

“You want me, don’t you?”

She licked her lips. “Yes.”

He leaned in close and flicked his tongue against her ear. “I want you.”

She swallowed hard. “Then what are you waiting for?”

It was a good question. The words were on the tip of his tongue:
I love you, Riley
, but they refused to budge from their spot.

How many men made it to thirty-two without falling in love? Charlie had, and now he hadn’t just fallen, he’d plunged face first.

“I can’t believe how much I want to be inside you again,” he murmured in her ear.

“Then do it,” she begged.

He shed his pants quickly and settled over her, weight on his elbows. Then he shifted, remembering an important detail. “I forgot to bring condoms,” he said. “Do you have any?”

“I’m on the pill,” she whispered. “And I’m okay.
Healthy.
Are you—?”

Charlie swallowed hard, nodding. “You’re sure?” The idea of being inside Riley like that appealed too damn much. Their gazes tangled as he slid into her—skin to skin for the first time.

She was so hot and wet and tight, and it felt so incredible to be in her, to be moving without any barrier between them. He slowed, trying to last longer than his building pleasure would allow.

“No,” she whispered, her nails digging into his shoulder blades. “Faster.”

He pushed himself up so he could look into her eyes as he rocked into her, so he could watch the pleasure on her face.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and threw her head back, her eyes fluttering closed.

Her nails dug into her shoulder blades as the orgasm took her and she convulsed around him. His own pleasure climbed, and his cock swelled more than he thought possible, spurred by direct contact with her hot, wet sex.

When he came inside her, it was she who cried out.

He allowed himself several long moments to recover. Burying his head in the crook of her neck, he breathed in the sweet, clean scent of her. She smelled like a cool spring day with clear skies and laundry on the line. She smelled like home.

He carefully slid out of her and rolled to his side. “I’ve never done that before,” he said softly. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Thank you.”

She turned and smiled at him, her green eyes soft. “Which part?
The quickie part or the no condom part?”

He chuckled. “My male pride insists I lie to you and tell you I’ve never blown my load so quickly, but I believe we have video evidence proving otherwise.”

She laughed, her fingers running lazy trails over his chest. “And you even wore a condom…then?”

A lock of her hair had fallen in her face, and Charlie brushed it behind her ear, reading her question in her eyes. “I wore a condom every time.
Even with Angela.”

“Angela is…?”

“My son’s mother.”
The word
son
still felt strange attached to him, more like playing pretend than talking about his real life.

She let out a long breath. “So he
is
yours.”

Charlie nodded. “He looks just like me and the numbers make sense.”

“How old is he?”

“Sixteen. About the age I was when he was conceived.” Charlie smiled, thinking of Tony. “He’s a good kid.
A little sneaky, but only because he knows what he wants.”

She
smiled,
her green eyes soft. “What’s it like, having a child? You know, flesh of your flesh and all that?”

Charlie propped himself up on an elbow. He wanted a better view of her as they talked about this part of his life, as he shared this vulnerable piece of himself. “I don’t really know. I wasn’t given the opportunity to be his father. Angela must have been pregnant when I left town, but I didn’t know, and she never contacted me again until I was served with those papers.”

Riley sat up, her cheeks flushing. “How could she do that? You had a right to know.”

Charlie sighed. He pushed himself off the floor and offered her a hand. When they stood face to face, he pressed his lips to hers. Her indignation on his behalf warmed long-ago hardened places inside him.

“What was that for?” she asked when he pulled away.

He grinned.
“Just for believing in me.”
Then with a sigh, he explained, “Angela thought it was best for Tony if I wasn’t part of his life. Given the circumstances—that I was a high school dropout bent on living life on my own terms and no one else’s—maybe she was right.”

Riley shook her head. “I don’t believe it. Not for a minute. You’re a good man, and ready or not you were the child’s father. She stole sixteen years from you.”

“Is that what you think about those years your father wasn’t in your life?”

Riley flinched, then slipped away from him and walked around to sit on the couch. Charlie followed her, sitting beside her but saying nothing. “It’s not his fault. Not completely. My mom told him she didn’t need his money or his help.”

“How did you feel about that?” Charlie asked softly.

“I didn’t know any better until after she died. I guess then it occurred to me that he should have pushed the issue. He was my father, why didn’t he insist on visitation?”

Charlie reached for her hand and squeezed it in his.

“And it might have occurred to me that the transition after her death would have been easier if he hadn’t been a stranger to me. My whole like would have been different if I’d known him, been sure of his love before he was the only one I had.”

“Do you think you’d be dancing for a living now…if you hadn’t been bent on proving yourself to your father?”

She blinked at him. “It’s not easy to make a living as a dancer.”

He turned on the couch and drew her to him so she was leaning against his chest. “That’s not what I asked.”

“I think we all have a dream of…what we could have been,” she said softly. “Except maybe you—fancy professional poker player.” She tilted her chin up and grinned at him.

“Maybe we’re both too scared to go after what we really want.”

She turned in his arms and put her hand against his face, studying him. “What do you want, Charlie?”

“I want…”
You.
“…a way out of the poker life.
Another career opportunity that would let me stay here, near Tony.”