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23

CHARLOTTE

“Again!” Denny tells Noah, and he does yet another backflip in my parents’ backyard garden. A bounce house is set up in the corner, and rows of catered food line the perimeter. The best way to describe it is White House Fourth of July BBQ Chic. Hot dogs and baked beans have been traded for filet mignon and smoked-salmon canapés.

It’s all very posh, but I can’t deny I’m obsessed with the apple rose puffs adorning the dessert table. They’re beautiful and delicious.

The twins love being born on the Fourth because they think all the fireworks and hoopla is for them, but I fear as they get older, they’ll realize this party is really for Mother’s donor friends to schmooze and booze them.

Noah does another flip, then stands in place, glaring at me. “Why did you tell her I could do this?”

I shrug, keeping my deal with Denny to myself.

“You feeling queasy yet?” Denny asks, and I pin her with a look.

“What?” Noah says, eyes narrowed. Denny fights a smile, looking at me, then back to Noah. “What are you two up to?”

“Nothing,” we both say too quickly.

Noah’s eyes lock on Denny. “Spill.”

No! She’s too weak.

“Lottie-said-she’d-pay-me-ten-bucks-if-I-got-you-to-backflip-till-you-puked,” Denny says in a rushed admission, then inhales loudly. Like I said, weak.

“Really?” Noah’s eyes swing to mine, and he folds his arms across his chest. My eyes drag along the flexed muscles. His long fingers that know how to edge me to the brink of release. “And why might you force that kind of torture upon me?”

My gaze returns to his. “Call it payback.”

“For what?”

For blowing me off the last two weeks while you’ve been away. It’s been nothing but small talk and surface-level conversation since he picked me up from camp earlier. We were running late because he’d hit traffic, and we rushed to make it before the party started. The kids and my parents have had us preoccupied ever since.

“For the little mermaid impersonator I found in your cabin a few weeks ago,” I lie, since tiny ears are around.

“I love that movie!” Denny says, running off belting “Under the Sea . ”

“I have been told I look like Prince Eric,” he says once we’re alone.

“With that inflated ego, you’re more like the hot air balloon in Up .”

“Cute.” His eyes narrow, then he reaches out and brushes my hair behind my shoulder. “If you wanted to punish me, I could think of much better ways.”

“The point is that you don’t enjoy it.” I step closer, lowering my voice. “Pretty sure if I tied you up and whipped you for being such a bad, bad boy, you’d like it a little too much.”

Noah’s eyes blaze. “ Porca troia, soffione .” His gaze says he’s ready to rip these clothes off my body. “Please don’t make my mind go there right now.”

I’d actually love his mind to go there. Would love to join him there, in fact. “How about I show you around the house?” I ask, biting my lower lip to exude sex appeal.

His eyes drop to them. “I’d like that.”

Good. This is good.

We head toward the back door, and I take deep breaths to shove down the absolute ridiculous need I feel for this man. My mind runs through where we can go for some one-on-one time I’ve so desperately missed.

My bedroom? Too easy.

The garage? Too hot.

The study? Mom would kill me.

I glance around, eyes connecting with my mother’s.

“Charlie,” she calls, waving us over with a smile.

“Shit,” I mumble, and Noah reaches out, interlacing our fingers.

“It’ll be fine,” he says as we head towards her.

“This is Tabitha White,” she says, gesturing to a woman who looks to be in her early forties. “She’s a criminal defense attorney in Tampa and offered to host you for an internship next year, should you come to your senses.” Mom’s smile is mocking. Noah’s hand grips mine hard, and I side-eye him, his expression unreadable.

“Thank you for the offer,” I tell Tabitha, using my free, not squished hand for a polite shake, biting back any arguments. I just want to get through this conversation, slip away, and let my boyfriend fuck me six ways to Sunday. Fine, fake boyfriend, but the orgasm will be 100 percent real.

“It’s my pleasure,” Tabitha says. “Anything for a Benson.”

“And this is Noah Caruso,” Mom says, gesturing towards my date, and Tabitha reaches out a hand. “Charlotte’s friend .”

Friend?

I introduced Noah as my boyfriend when we arrived, and the intentional omission pisses me off. He looks down at Tabitha’s hand, and I nudge him, letting go of his.

“Have we met?” Tabitha asks Noah as they exchange a polite shake.

“I don’t think so,” he says quickly, placing his palm on my lower back.

“Are you sure?” Tabitha cocks her head. “You look so familiar.”

“He’s a quarterback for the Barracudas,” I say, providing an explanation.

“Hmm,” Tabitha hums. “Maybe, but I don’t really watch football.”

“Georgia,” Patricia calls over. “Someone’s on the phone for you.”

“Excuse me,” Mom says, smile tight, and walks away.

Tabitha studies Noah with a laugh. “I’m sorry, you look so familiar. It’s driving me crazy.”

“I have one of those faces,” Noah answers curtly, fingertips gripping my back. What has gotten into him?

“And thanks for the internship offer,” I tell her. “But I’m no longer pre-law.”

Tabitha nods. “Well, it’s standing should you change your mind.”

“Thank you.” I won’t.

She excuses herself, and I glance around. Mom’s near the food, engaged in a heated conversation with Patricia. Dad is by the bounce house, playing with Nash.

Perfect.

I make a beeline for the back door, Noah quick on my heels. We are not getting interrupted this time. I’m also dying to ask about his bizarre reaction to Tabitha, but that can wait till after. We make our way into the house, dodging caterers and cocktail waitresses. Some guests are chattering in the foyer, but they don’t even glance our way as we turn down the hall towards Mom’s office. Any hesitation of using it vanished the second she tried to undermine my career choice. Again.

Glancing behind us, I ensure we’re alone, then grab Noah’s hand, tugging him along.

He chuckles, interlacing his fingers with mine as we jog down the hall, and the closed office door appears up ahead. I check for witnesses one last time, then tug Noah inside, close it quickly behind us, and flick the lock. My breath is heavy as my back presses against the door, and Noah towers over me, an inquisitive look on his face.

I’m thankful my mother removed all the cameras when we moved in—my grandma was obsessed with her security.

“So I’m assuming you didn’t really want to show me the house?” Noah asks, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear and gripping the side of my neck. His green eyes bore into mine. Oh, how I’ve missed those eyes. I have questions for him, but those can wait.

“Noah,” I say, his attention filling me with the courage to tell him exactly what I want. What I crave. “I need you to fuck me.”

His lips part open. “That’s the second time you’ve asked me that.”

“I’m not asking,” I say, the lust glimmering in his eyes. “Are you gonna miss your opportunity again?”

“Not a chance,” he says, hooking a hand behind my head and pulling my mouth to his. Our lips crash, tongues tangling. I loop my arms around his neck, and he nudges me toward an empty wall on the back side of the room.

Noah scoops me up, and my legs wrap around his waist. His hands wander up my sundress, my back slamming against the wall, and all the breath expels from my lungs.

“I’ve missed this,” he murmurs in my ear and plants soft kisses down my neck.

I rub my fingernails under his shirt, up and down his bare torso. “Me too.”

“Being away from you was torture,” he says, sliding my thin strap off my shoulder and nibbling on the soft skin.

“Why do you think I was punishing you?” I admit.

He pulls away with narrowed eyes. “ That’s why Denny was training me for the Olympics?”

“A girl has needs,” I say. “I even had to resort to your strategy of shower masturbation for a bit of relief.”

He groans, dropping his head into my neck, hands gripping my thighs. “If you really wanted to torture me, you just needed to say stuff like that.” I giggle. “Why didn’t you tell me you missed me?”

“You were busy.” I shrug, heart twisting. “You have to be able to focus on your job. Fake dating comes secondary.”

“What did I say about using the f word when I’m inside of you?” Noah says, gaze searing, causing goosebumps down my spine.

“You’re not inside me,” I remind him, and he pulls me tight against his body.

With his free hand, he reaches between us to unbutton his shorts and pushes them down.

His eyes hold mine, a smirk forming upon his lips as he nudges my soaked panties to the side. I’m already dripping for him, and after a few swipes of his tip against me, he’s easing inside. Yes, please.

“Now, as I was saying”—his grin is wicked—“lose the word ‘fake’ from your vocabulary when I’m fucking you, soffione mio. ”

My head drops against the wall, and his lips fall to my neck as my needy cunt pulses around him.

“Do you understand?” he asks, filling me completely, and I gasp.

“Yes.” Thrust. “I understand.”

“Good,” he says with a satisfied smile, increasing his rhythm. “Now, can you come for me please? As much as I’m enjoying this, I really don’t want your family to walk in on all the things I want to do to you.”

“And what are those?” I pant as he continues his torture.

He grips my hips, nails digging in. “I was thinking about bending you over that couch over there. Fucking you from behind, then stopping to devour your needy pussy every time you get close.”

“What else?” I ask, closing my eyes to allow myself to join his daydream.

“I’d lay you down on the desk, sprawled out, so I can eat you and finger fuck you till you come on my tongue.” Thrust . “You always taste so good.” Thrust. “ Cazzo .” He walks us over to the desk, his dick still inside me, and sets me on it.

“What are you?—”

He slips out, knees hitting the floor before me. Gripping my calves, he tugs me to the edge of the desk and glances up with a satisfied smile on his face. “Why should we have to imagine when I can show you everything I want to do to you?”

“You’re no longer concerned about being caught?” I ask, brow cocked.

“Do you trust the lock on that door?” he asks.

“Absolutely,” I say, and he grins, gripping my thighs. My head falls back, his warm breath fanning against my center, causing me to shudder.

His tongue swipes through me, and I struggle to hold in the wide array of sounds I’d love to be making right now. He flicks my clit, and a tiny moan escapes. His hand slaps over my mouth and I nod, getting the message. He removes his hand, fingers inching up my inner thigh. Seconds later he slips them inside me, curling them to hit that glorious spot. It’s too much. His mouth, his fingers, his addictive fucking scent. It’s embarrassing how quickly he could get me off right now.

“I’m so close,” I whine, and he pulls out abruptly, standing. “Noah!”

He positions himself at my entrance. “I changed my mind,” he says, smile wicked. “I want you to come on my cock. I’ll pull out after you’re done.”

I nod ferociously, and he slides inside, gripping my ass while holding me against him.

“You’re doing such a good job,” he tells me, the tension building.

I bite my lip, stifling a smile, opting to try for a bit of dirty talk myself. “I love how you fuck me, baby,” I say, feeling awkward, but only for a moment as I notice the way his eyes flare. Note to self: Noah loves pet names in the bedroom.

He quickens his pace, the table rattling, but I’m too lost in it to care. Lost in him .

“Come for me,” he says, and with another thrust, I’m seeing fireworks. Red, white, and royal fucking blue. Happy Fourth of July to me. My back arches, breathing labored while I ride out the entire explosive rush until I’m nothing but a puddle of Jello.

He slips out, gripping his shaft and pumping hard.

I use my remaining energy to nudge him away, hop off the desk, and drop to my knees.

“You don’t have t—” His protest is cut off by my lips circling his tip, and within seconds, his hands are in my hair, directing me exactly where he wants me to go. I lap and suck and taste, and it doesn’t take long till his cock jerks, filling my mouth to the brim.

“Don’t swallow,” he commands with labored breaths. “Show me.”

I glance up, our eyes connecting, and open, presenting his release.

“Fuck,” he says with a shaky exhale. “Look at your pretty mouth filled with my cum.” My stomach swirls, and he tugs me by my hair to stand. “Swallow,” he instructs, and I oblige, licking my lips for any excess. “Such a good fucking girl.”

I giggle. “I think it’s safe to say the lessons are working.”

He shakes his head. “Baby, that was all you.”

The door rattles, and our heads jerk towards it.

My mother’s voice is muffled. “I must have locked it before the guests arrived. Wait here. I’ll grab the key.”

My wide eyes meet Noah’s.

We are so fucked.