Page 27

Charlie

Jesus Christ.

My dick throbs in my jeans, still painfully hard from the club.

I couldn’t resist when she texted me. I knew she was taunting me, trying to spur me on when she told me she was letting other men touch her, but I fucking went anyway.

As soon as I get home, I do a couple laps in the pool to calm myself down. When that doesn’t help, I move to the living room and do sit ups, then pushups until I near the threat of muscle fatigue.

Sweat runs down my forehead and stings my eyes. My heart beats wildly in my chest. I either need to fuck her, raw and hard, or go to the gym and spar with the biggest motherfucker I can find. If I got Rodriguez in the ring right now, I’d probably win on sheer force of agitation and adrenaline.

“Holy fuck.” Bailey’s soft voice breaks through my concentration as I move through my fiftieth pushup. She eyes me up and down, her eyes growing hazy with lust as she takes in my bare chest. I stop, letting my gaze travel up her bare legs, to the skirt that’s too short, to that godforsaken corset top.

Fuck.

Hunger hits with me brutal force, my dick rock hard. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but also the sexiest. It’s no wonder men at the club couldn’t stay away from her. She practically screams fuck me .

“You look hot,” Bailey says, color warming her cheeks. “And sweaty,” she adds.

I rise to my feet, moving toward her. She must remember my earlier threat of punishment because she takes a step back.

“You’re going to be hot and sweaty in about ten minutes.”

She shakes her head, stumbling back into the wall.

“I need a shower first. I’m gross.”

I step into her, pressing the lower length of my body against her. “Unfortunately, princess, I don’t think there’s a thing you could do that would make me think you’re gross.”

I search her gaze, checking her pupils. She doesn’t appear tipsy.

“Did you drink water, like I told you?”

“Yes, Dad,” she mocks, rolling her eyes.

An idea strikes me. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“You already did.” She shivers when my fingers graze up her bare thigh, toying with the zipper of her skirt.

“If you can get to the shower before I catch you, we’ll shower. If not, I’m fucking you just like this.”

She swallows hard. “Can I take my heels off? ”

I step back just enough for her to step out of the strappy black heels she’s wearing. If she wasn’t bad tonight, I might consider giving her a foot rub. But she taunted me, grinding against another man when she knew I was coming for her.

“Do I get a head start?”

I raise a brow at her. “Five seconds.”

In an instant, she runs around me, laughing like a teenager as she hurries for the bathroom.

I play dirty and give her two seconds before I’m darting after her. To my surprise, she almost makes it to the bathroom, but she’s giggling too hard by the time I catch up to her in the hallway and barrel through the bedroom door.

“You cheated,” she squeals, laughing when I grab her around the waist and lift her off her feet. “You didn’t count to five.”

“You play dirty, I’ll play dirty.” I drop her on her back on the bed and kneel between her legs.

Her hands go for my stomach, her nails lightly scraping over the flesh of my abs. It sends electric shocks straight to my dick.

“What are you going to do to me?” she breathes, chuckling, though I can hear the nervousness in her voice.

“Spank you.”

Her eyes narrow. “No, you aren’t.”

“I’m not?” I flip her over, gripping her hips and pulling them back into my erection. She moans, arching into me.

My hand slips under her, slipping her panties to the side and rubbing her clit in slow, torturous circles.

“I’m burning this,” I murmur, pulling the corset down and freeing her breasts.

“I don’t know. I might need something once I get back to California.”

Little brat. I grit my teeth, rolling my hips into her, again. At the same time, I deliver a slap to the swell of her ass that echoes through the room.

She jerks, letting out a surprised squeak. “You did not just spank me.”

“I didn’t?” I repeat the motion, this time on the other side.

“Charlie,” she grits, fisting the comforter in her fists. I resume my rubbing of her clit, drawing a whimper from her.

“I can feel you dripping down my fingers, baby.” Fuck, she’s soaked, begging for my cock. “Tell me to fuck you.”

“I don’t know. Are you going to spank me again —”

When this one hits, she arches back into me. “Say blue if you want me to stop.”

“You were saying?” I growl, my voice dangerously low and vehement. I can feel her pussy clamp down on me every time I spank her.

She shakes her head. “Do it again,” she whispers, so quiet I can barely hear her.

“Speak up.”

She groans when my fingers stop their assault on her clit.

“Do it again,” she repeats. I do, drawing the sexiest fucking moan from her. My breathing is rough when I pull up her skirt. It bunches around her waist indecently.

“These are in the way,” I murmur, gripping the black lace of her underwear in my fingers and tugging. With a sharp snap, they break and fall out of the way.

“Charlie!” she complains, but I silence her complaint when she hears the button and zipper on my jeans .

“I’ll buy you a hundred pair if I can rip them off whenever I want.”

“Deal,” she pants.

I pull myself out of my jeans, my cock aching to sink into her tight, constricting heat. Placing one hand on the redness of her ass and the other notching myself at her entrance, I push her back on me, surging through the tight clasp of her pussy.

“Oh my God,” she groans, her back arching against the sudden intrusion. I slap her ass on the opposite side, watching the redness rise to her skin.

“Christ,” I hiss through clenched teeth when she tightens around me.

“Please move,” she gasps, clawing at the comforter below her desperately. I’m seated completely inside her, pushing her limits. I reach below her, rubbing my thumb over her clit and sliding out slowly.

“This is your punishment. You don’t get to make the rules.”

I pair this statement with another slap to her perfect ass and rolling my hips into her at the same time. Heat travels up the base of my spine, my pulse throbbing behind my ears in tune with my cock.

“I think you’re enjoying this too much for it to be a punishment.” I slide my hand up her spine, starting a steady rhythm, my groin slapping into the red swells of her ass, and grip her hair in my fist. I push her face down in the bed and continue to fuck her roughly, barely holding onto my control to not fuck her senseless.

“What’s wrong with me?” she breathes, arching into my next blow with a moan .

“You’re my dirty fucking slut.” I spank her again. “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” she whispers, like she’s afraid the world will hear her and everyone will know she’s enjoying this. “Please.”

“Such good manners,” I chuckle, holding two fingers up to her mouth. “Suck.”

She does, laving at my middle and forefinger with her tongue until they’re dripping wet.

“Do you trust me?” I ask, my voice ragged.

She pauses for a second, like she’s not sure if she should admit it.

“Yes.”

“Don’t run,” I remind her, pressing my finger against the tight ring of muscle at her ass.

“No,” she says, panicked.

“Say blue if you want to stop.”

She doesn’t. She lets me press the pad of my finger into her, the digit disappearing inside of her. My other hand rolls her clit in circles, loosening her up for me.

Her eyes roll back in her head when I open her up for me, inserting a second finger. I start to thrust inside her again, egged on by the way her hips start to move back into me.

“It’s too much,” she whimpers. “Too full.”

Fuck, those little desperate sounds. “You’ll be the death of me,” I grit, fucking her harder with both my cock and my fingers. “Feel how full you are, baby?”

“I’m going to come.”

“Me too. I need you to come first, Bailey.”

I change my tempo, spreading my legs to hit that deep spot inside her and twisting my fingers in and out of her to match the tempo.

With a guttural cry, she comes, collapsing underneath me. Tears stream down her face and her skin is flushed. It’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, watching her orgasm take away all her inhibitions and rendering her immobile. I slip my fingers out of her ass and fuck into her with abandon, drawing out her orgasm and chasing mine.

My whole body jerks hard, seizing above her as an orgasm stronger than any I’ve ever had before rips through me. I grip the bed above her, releasing an animalistic roar that surely everyone in New Orleans heard.

“Ow,” Bailey winces when we separate. I roll off her and step out of my jeans.

“Come here.” I slide my hands under her legs and her back, lifting her up and carrying her to the bathroom. She shifts nervously in my arms, like she’s expecting me to just kick her out now that we’re done.

“What are you doing?” she asks when I set her down on the side of the tub and start the water.

“We’re taking a bath.”

I unzip the skirt around her waist, then reach behind her and unclasp the corset, tossing it to the side in the hope she’ll forget it here, so I can burn the damn thing.

“Together?” She cocks an eyebrow at me.

I grit my teeth, knowing what she’s implying.

“Together.”

Ten minutes later and she’s resting back against my chest while I comb through her hair. It’s a tangled mess from my fingers and as much as that thought turns me on, it’s a pain in the ass to get them out later.

“We need to talk about something,” Bailey says quietly, staring at the bubbles in front of her.

I’ve never taken a bubble bath, but after how intense the last hour has been, I need to make sure she’s okay.

“You breaking up with me?” I joke, finally working the worst of the knots out of her hair.

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head. Slipping out from between my legs, she settles against the other side of the tub, crossing her arms over her chest and watching me.

“Andi knows. She saw us tonight.”

Well, shit.

“And?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t say anything else about it. I don’t know what to do.”

I run my tongue over my teeth, thinking for a moment. Andi might be pissed off that I’m fucking her best friend on every surface of my house, but she can’t stop it. Bailey and I are the only ones who will end this, and I don’t plan on stopping until I have to.

“If she brings it up, just tell her the truth.”

Bailey’s eyes go wide. “You want me to tell her we’re only sleeping together until I go home?”

I shrug. “You’re giving her too much power.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“And she still will be when this is done. It’s none of her business. She knows that. She can be angry, she can say whatever she wants, but I’m not stopping. ”

I hold out my hand to Bailey, waving my fingers for her to come to me.

Reluctantly, a smile breaks out on her face and finally, she slides her fingers through mine.

“You worry too much.” I pull her back into me and press a kiss to her jaw. She moves to sit down, but winces.

“I feel like I scooted through sand paper.”

I chuckle and pull the plug on the water.

“Come. I have cream that will help.”

Her eyes glimmer as she smiles at me. “You’ve done this before.”

“No.”

“You’ve never spanked a girl before?” she asks, leaning back from me shocked.

“No.”

“So, none of your other conquests have ever needed to be punished ?”

I shrug. “Or I just didn’t care enough.”

She stares at me for a beat too long, searching my face. It’s too much, too soon. I slip a hand under her and pull her closer to me and nip at her jaw.

“No more worrying. I’ll have to punish you for that too.”

She wrinkles her nose, laughing. “Maybe I should. I kind of liked you losing control.”

She reaches between us, her delicate fingers dancing up my cock that’s already semi-hard. I clasp my fingers around hers and move her over my cock until I’m rock fucking hard, again.

“You’ll be the fucking death of me, woman.” I force her to her feet and grab a towel .

“Done so soon?”

“We’re just getting started, baby.”

It’s not the inviting aroma of Bailey that wakes me in the morning. It’s smoke. I lay there for a moment, my eyes still shut, and try to pinpoint what it is I’m smelling. Then, when I realize it’s a fire, I surge from the bed, almost toppling over from standing up too quickly.

Bailey isn’t in bed anymore, and for a split second, I wonder if she left me there to bake while she ran from the fire. Then I come to my senses and follow the trail until it leads me to the kitchen.

I stop at the doorway, watching Bailey dancing around in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear, singing some old tune on the radio in one of the most off-key voices I’ve ever heard. I smile, despite the smell of the charcoal pancakes she’s attempting to make because it’s kind of . . . adorable.

Fuck, I’ve never used that sentiment for anyone other than kids or puppies.

It’s not until she spins to grab something from the fridge that she notices me and drops her spatula on the floor with a squeak.

“Jesus Christ, Charlie!” she snaps, clutching at her chest. She looks sexy as fuck with her hair a mess and her lips swollen from last night.

“Cooking, princess?” I ask, raising a brow. Behind her is a stack of pancakes that are just a hair lighter than the dead of night.

Her shoulders slump.

“Well, I tried,” she murmurs, looking at the pancakes as if they had burnt themselves. “I told you; I can’t cook.” She hands me a coffee mug and I’m surprised when it tastes just like I always take it. One cream, one sugar. Just enough to get rid of some of the bite.

Something about the defeat in her voice pisses me off, so I stalk toward the cremated pastries, grab a plate and head to the kitchen table.

“You do not have to eat those,” Bailey says, nervously dancing on her feet.

Fuck that. If someone makes you food, you eat it. That’s how I was raised.

“I’m sorry for sleeping over,” I say, ghosting over her declaration and pouring syrup over my plate. “Just tired, I guess.” You were soft and warm and sleepy and I couldn’t leave.

She gives me a half-smile and joins me on the other side of the table with her own victimized pancakes. “It’s okay. I think I was so exhausted I didn’t realize until I woke up.”

I know she doesn’t want me sleeping over because she’s afraid she’ll get attached, but I’m already growing attached, so what does that mean for me? How do I leave her when she’s sleeping peacefully on my chest? When I sleep better with her than I ever have in my life alone?

I take a bite of pancake, managing a straight face through the bitter dark spots. The syrup helps, though there’s a lingering campfire aftertaste. Now, it’s my mission to teach her how to cook .

Bailey watches for my reaction, but when she doesn’t get one, a small glimmer of hope lights up her face. She makes a show of taking her own bite, and chewing it for a moment in silence. When she gags, sucking down a long drink of coffee, I have to suppress a laugh.

“That’s just a little tastier than cardboard,” she murmurs, taking a second bite. “No. On second thought, cardboard might be better.”

I do chuckle this time, eating my own pancakes.

“We’re going to teach you how to cook.”

She eyes me, suspiciously.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Less burnt pancakes.”

She rolls her eyes, but she laughs. “Not all of us grew up with fancy chef dads.”

“I imagine it’s hard to cook for yourself when you have a live-in chef?”

She narrows her eyes at me and tugs off a piece of pancake, chucking it at me across the table. I catch it and eat it, just to prove my point.

“I’ll spank your ass again,” I warn, pointing my fork at her.

She winces, adjusting in her chair, filling me with a dark satisfaction. “God, no. I need to recover. It feels like I have road rash every time I sit down.”

She catches the glimmer in my eye and blushes, eating another bite of pancake.

“Who taught you how to cook, anyway?” Bailey asks after a moment.

“Dad. Mom. Mawmaw when I was with her. ”

Bailey smiles, finished the rest of her pancake. “My grandma baked a lot. She never taught us, though. She was fairly old when I was a kid.”

“And your other grandma?” I ask, assuming she’s talking about her dad’s mom.

She shrugs. “I never knew her. She disowned Mom for marrying Dad. Mom also dropped the bomb that she was pregnant with Mason the same day.”

“So, the odds weren’t in her favor?”

“No.” She grimaces, her brow furrowing. “Dad was a poor mechanic and Mom’s parents are rich New Yorkers. It’s why Mom pushed me so hard to marry Drew.” She rolls her eyes, sipping her orange juice. “Money.”

I grab another pancake, mostly because I don’t want her to stop talking and chew it slowly.

“So, Mom wants you to marry into money? What’s her idea of that?” I know I’m fishing, but this will give me another reason Bailey and I couldn’t be together. Not that I was entertaining the idea — she’s a great fuck, but she pisses me off faster than anyone I’ve ever met — but there are moments when she smiles and my chest hurts. Or when she fell asleep on my arm last night and the thought of leaving her was too much, so I stayed. I could have made it back to my bed. I just didn’t fucking want to.

“I think she wants me to be a mini-her. Marry some filthy rich asshole who cheats on me with his secretary and live in a gaudy, overpriced relic of a home.”

I chuckle, running a thumb over my mouth. I thought the same thing when I was at the house for her and Andi’s graduation. Way too fucking big and castle-like. It’s why I call Bailey princess. For how her mother treats her and all the rules, she might as well be.

Bailey gets up and carries her empty plate to the sink.

“Why, if you aren’t happy?”

She peaks at me over her shoulder, sealing me under her bright blue gaze. “In her own words, happiness is a privilege. Money is a necessity.”

In other words, Bailey would end up just like her mother if something did happen between us. I can fuck her; I can love her more than anyone’s loved another person. I can even give her a nice, happy home, but without the money, I don’t have shit in her family’s eyes.

I open my mouth to speak, but Bailey’s phone vibrates on the table. She looks back, rolling her eyes with her hands covered in bubbles from starting to wash dishes.

“Can you check that? I think it’s a text. Probably my mom. She’ll call if I don’t reply instantly.”

I snicker and reach for the phone, unlocking it and clicking on the message. It takes me a minute to process what I’m looking at, but when it finally clicks, my blood runs cold.

Unknown: You can’t block me, babe. I’ll find you. Enjoy. She did.

The picture attached is of a woman, tied up in an unnatural position, the skin on her ass and upper legs bright cherry red to the point that she’s almost bleeding.

“What’s wrong?” Bailey asks quietly. She’s stopped washing the dishes and is now staring at me with a blank expression on her face .

“Is Drew fucking with you?” Bailey’s face pales and it’s clear. I try to keep the anger out of my voice, but it’s evident, I’m fucking pissed. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Not only did he almost break her, he’s fucking harassing her now.

Bailey doesn’t answer and it takes all my control not to throw the phone. I want to find Drew and show him what happens when he fucks with my girl. Beat him until he can’t recognize his own face in the mirror.

“Answer the question, Bailey,” I repeat, my voice deeper, darker than I’ve heard it in a long time.

“Yes.”

“How long?”

She sucks in a shallow breath, looking at her hands. “Since a couple weeks after I left him.”

Mother fucker.

My blood’s so hot it burns under my skin. Irrationally, I think of the price of plane tickets to LAX and back in a day. By the time Drew crawls to the nearest police station, I’ll be back home before Bailey even notices I’m gone.

I’m seriously considering it . . . until I see the way Bailey’s hands shake.

“What did he say?”

I clench my jaw, watching the tears in her eyes with a hatred I didn’t know I possessed.

“Come here,” I mutter roughly and hold out my hand. Slowly, she walks to me, lightly placing her shaking fingers in mine. I tug her onto my lap and she straddles me, softly laying her head on my shoulder.

I hug her to me and I’m not entirely sure it’s to comfort her. Part of me wonders if it’s to comfort myself. Keep myself from going to find that little prick, Drew and beating him until he can’t remember her name.

“What did he say?” she repeats, pulling back to look at me.

I should tell her.

But I don’t.

I grab the phone and delete the picture and the message and block the number.

“It’s not important. Don’t let it ruin your day. You have cake tasting today, right?”

She smiles, brushing hair out of my face. It’s so intimate that my first reaction is to put her down. But I like the way her fingers feel on my face, the caring look in her eye, so I don’t.

“I like that you can remember that. I forgot.”

I chuckle, and hold her tighter to me. Despite everything, when Bailey presses her lips to my neck, heat seems to bloom from the spot. When she does it again, my hand rubs over the spot on her ass that I spanked last night and she jerks, pulling away with a startled, but heavy gaze.

“Not right now,” I murmur, shaking my head even though my cock is aching in my boxers.

Bailey cocks her head at me and lowers her fingers to the t-shirt covering her body, pulling it over her head and dropping it on the floor beside us.

“You said not to let it ruin my day,” she shrugs. “I’m not.”

She takes my hand in hers and lifts it to her chest, pressing my palm on to her breast until I grope the soft skin. I groan, a practically feral sound, and lower my lips to suck her nipple into my mouth .

Her head falls back and she groans, the sound going straight to my cock.

“Have you ever come on burnt pancakes?” I ask against her skin.

“No,” she whispers, soft fingers tugging at my hair.

“You’re about to.”

And then I flip her over the table and make her come until she forgets Drew even existed. But I don’t forget. He’ll be hearing from me real fucking soon.