When he just kept staring, she paused, unsure if it was Matthew’s silent reprimand or if he was waiting for something else.
“Come on in.” She pulled the door wide. “Take a seat on the bed.”
Once he was settled, she offered two aspirin and a glass of water from the bureau. Moving between his spread thighs, gingerly combing her fingers through the cropped hair near his lump, she fussed over the man. The way he glowered… Matthew behaved like a puppy unsure if it wanted to bite or just be loved on. But her fingers kept soothing until he took a deep breath and his shoulders slumped.
“The one I knocked out near Eli was reaching for a blade in his back pocket. The other one I clocked just to even the odds,” Charlie explained, knowing why he had come to her. “I know you didn’t need my help, but Eli doesn’t know how to fight properly for someone his size, and unless you aim to teach him…” She let the silence speak for her.
From his troubled gaze, Matthew had not seen the knife. And though Eli was enthusiastic, Charlotte was right, he was not a hand-to-hand brawler.
Seeing she had gotten through his thick, bruised skull, Charlie leaned forward and gingerly pressed her lips under the swelling on his temple.
Rigid, he watched her take the glass from his hand and set it on the bureau. The mattress dipped behind him, Charlie’s warm palms working to knead the tension in his neck. Never having been touched in such a way, Matthew closed his eyes and hung his head.
When he was just about a puddle, she shifted away. Looking over his shoulder, he found Charlie staring, her color up and her pupils large.
Moistening her lips, she said, “Perhaps you’d better get to bed now.”
He had no words. Matthew stood and offered a nod of appreciation, leaving like she told him to.
* * *
Back
on his cot, he lay in darkness replaying the unknowing hungry look she’d leveled at him, the way her breath had been coming fast and shallow from swollen lips. The very idea Charlotte had become so aroused just touching him made his cock jump in his stroking fist. With his mind full of pretty eyes shining in confusion and a pink tongue darting over her scar, his hand moved faster. Groan muffled behind clenched teeth, he came. Hard.
A whoosh of breath left his chest, thoughts still centered on the woman sleeping on the other side of the wall. When he heard the latch of her door softly lift and the sound of bare feet padding quietly down the stairs, he tied up his drawstring pajamas and moved without thought to see to her.
Silent, knowing where to step on the stairs so as not to make a sound, he watched from the shadows as his golden girl rested against the bar, bare of her dressing robe and leaning forward just enough the silk of her blue nightgown emphasized each dip and curve.
She seemed agitated, sipping a fresh glass of water, fluttering the front of her nightgown against her bosom. Matthew, eyes smoldering, thanked God he’d satiated his need before seeing her in such a state. Had he been as rock hard as before, he would have shoved her down right there on the floor and shown her just how fucking much he ached for her.
Moving towards the small pool of moonlight, he saw her startle and blush.
God, she was perfect.
“Matthew.” As if painfully aware she was practically naked, Charlie began to scamper away. “I just came down to get something I needed.”
He moved closer, cutting off her escape as he prowled closer. Voice rich with want, he asked, “Did you find what you needed?”
It was written all over her: the flushed cheeks, the swollen lips—the way her eyes darted over his body before settling on his mouth. He could practically smell her arousal.
Barely managing a frustrated whisper, she admitted, “I don’t… rightly know.”
Trapped with the bar at her back and the red-blooded man corralling her in, Charlie visibly swallowed. Big, callused hands came to her waist and lifted her to perch at the edge of the counter. Nose went to her throat, Matthew’s mouth skimming up the ivory column until stopping at her ear.
A rumble of noise, a deep sultry purr, promised, “I know what you need, Charlotte.”
Distracted by the way his mouth moved against her flesh, his golden girl failed to notice the palm skimming up her thigh, or that her legs had parted indecently around his torso. Aware she might bolt, he placed his arm around her, before eager fingertips slipped beneath the pretty blue silk.
A confused, hungry cry, and Charlie wilted.
He hushed her once, felt her trembling something awful, and moved to stroke her sweet little pussy. One swipe, and Matthew found her drenched, swollen, and ready for him. Groaning approval, all it took was one simple pass over her pert clit before she moaned, wide-eyed and breathless.
Steady gaze boring straight into hers, Matthew watching as he touched—reading how she needed to be stroked by her little pants and mewls.
Slipping one finger into her saturated heat, he began to twist his fist around. His golden girl just about lost it, rolling her head back and bracing her body against the counter. He pumped against spongy flesh at the roof of her passage, his thumb running tight circles over her little pearl, growling in appreciation at the feel of her.
It began.