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“Charlie,” I whine, my voice shaking. “Please?—”

He doesn’t make me beg for long. In one swift move, the length of his body presses into mine as he lines himself up. “Look at me,” he commands, his eyes locking onto mine.

I do. I can’t look away as he slides into me, inch by torturous inch, until he’s buried to the hilt. “Fuck,” I choke out, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Yes. God, yes.”

He growls, his hips moving in slow, deliberate thrusts. “You’re so tight,” he grunts, his hands gripping my hips. “I can feel every bit of you.”

I cry out when he hits that perfect spot deep inside. “Right there,” I gasp, my legs wrapping around his waist. “Don’t stop?—”

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. “Come for me,” he growls, his eyes locked on mine.

I can feel the pressure building, my orgasm coiling deep inside me. “I’m close,” I whimper, my hands clawing at his back. “So fucking close?—”

He pulls back just enough to look at me. “Let go, baby,” he commands, his voice rough.

And I do. My body shatters around him, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me as I cry out his name. He follows moments later, his hips stuttering as he buries himself inside me.

“Fuck,” he groans, his forehead resting against mine. “You’re incredible.”

I smile lazily, my fingernails scratching down his back. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I tease.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to my lips before pulling out and collapsing beside me. He pulls me to him and we lie tangled together, my head on his chest, his heartbeat gradually slowing under my ear. His fingers rub my bare shoulder, and I feel boneless, sated in a way that goes beyond the physical.

"What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?" Charlie asks, his voice a rumble I can feel.

I consider lying, saying something light or clever, but the truth spills out instead. "I'm thinking that I'm scared of how much I wanted this. Of how much I want you."

His arms tighten around me. "Good scared or bad scared?"

"Both," I admit, tracing the line of his collarbone. "I don't do things like this. But I couldn’t help myself."

Charlie shifts, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me. In the dim light, his eyes are serious, intent. "There’s no reason to be scared. Let’s just see where this goes. Day by day. No pressure, no expectations, just..." He traces my lower lip with his thumb. "Just us figuring it out together."

It's not a declaration of love or a promise of forever. It's something better—something honest and real. I feel a smile spreading across my face.

"I'd like that," I say, and pull him down for another kiss, knowing that whatever comes next, I'm done running from what I want.

Chapter 15

Tess

The road to Spokane stretches ahead of us like a gray ribbon, unwinding through pine-studded hills and valleys. Charlie's driving with one hand on the wheel, the other casually draped over the center console, his fingers occasionally brushing against mine. Sinatra is playing in the background and we’re both singing along to “Witchcraft.”

Several weeks into whatever this is between us, and I still feel that little jolt when he touches me—not electricity, exactly, but a pleasant ripple that starts at my fingertips and radiates up my arm. His profile is relaxed, and I can't help but steal glances at him when he's focused on the road.

"Can’t keep your eyes off me, huh?" Charlie jokes without taking his eyes off the highway. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, that crooked half-grin that does something unholy to my insides.

"Just making sure you're not falling asleep at the wheel." I readjust in my seat, turning slightly toward him. "This drive can be deadly boring."

"With you? Never boring." He reaches over and squeezes my knee, his hand warm through the fabric of my jeans. "ThoughI'm still recovering from our marathon of that baking show last night."

I laugh, thinking of how we'd curled up on his absurdly comfortable couch, surrounded by takeout containers from that little Thai place he'd insisted we try. "You're the one who kept saying 'just one more episode.'"

"Their pastry techniques were fascinating," he deadpans, then breaks into a full smile when I give him a skeptical look. "Okay, fine. I liked how you'd get all intense during the judging."

The past two weeks have been...unexpected. After that first wedding, where we'd somehow stumbled from fake date to very real hookup, I'd braced myself for awkwardness. And then the second wedding, when I got all in my head about what Charlie is and isn’t, and I wasn’t sure if we could move forward.

Then we talked—truly talked. And he texted me the next day asking if I was free for dinner. Then another dinner. Then a quiet night at his place with a bottle of wine that we barely touched because we were too busy touching each other.