"I don't want to talk about him now," I heard my voice say, barely more than a whisper, a mix of desperation and pleading in my tone as I pressed my forehead into his chest as the song came to an end, making my heart sink at the idea of moving away from these sensations, denying my body what it so desperately wanted.
But even as the music thrummed back up, loud, undeniable, as the crowd cheered, Charlie's hands didn't release me; he didn't move away. If anything, he pulled me closer, his hand starting to slide up and down my spine. It was meant to be reassuring or comforting, but all it did was further stoke the fire building inside until I was sure it was going to burn me up from the inside out. My own fingers curled into the back of his neck as my other arm wound around his back as well.
A low, rolling rumble moved through Charlie's chest and into my own, making a shiver course through me as my head tipped up, eyes questioning.
And all I saw in his gaze was a mirror of what must have been in mine - the desire, the need to satisfy it.
His hand slid up my side, over my shoulder, then up my neck, framing my jaw, tilting up my head ever so slightly more before he lowered toward me.
My stomach flip-flopped as my lips parted, inviting what we both wanted more than anything else in the moment.
His eyes watched my face for a second, looking for any kind of hesitation. Finding none, his lips claimed mine.
I expected the soft thrumming sensation kissing had always given me in the past.
But this, this was not that.
This was akin to fireworks.
No.
Bigger, more powerful.
This was an atomic bomb to my system, obliterating everything except the sensation as Charlie let out another of those rolling growls, hand slipping behind my neck to hold on tighter as his lips pressed harder, demanded more, demanded everything.
And what's more, I gave it to him.
In that moment, that one still, perfect moment when nothing in the world existed but the two of us and what was happening between us, I was sure I would give him anything, anything at all that he wanted.
My lips parted, and his tongue moved inside to claim mine, making my legs forget how to hold me, sending my weight swaying fully into him, his arm around my back just curling tighter, holding me up as he continued to throw more kindling into the wildfire ravaging through my system.
A low, whimpering sound filled my ears, making Charlie's lips rip unexpectedly from mine with a savage curse as he let out a shuddering breath.
He released me suddenly, a jolt moving through me as my legs were forced once again to hold my weight. I barely had a moment to register that sensation when I felt his hand close around mine, fingers lacing between mine, and yanking hard as he plowed through the crowd, dragging me along with him - willing or not.
But being that I was nothing but a mass of overworked nerve endings and unfulfilled desire, I was nothing but willing, forcing my legs to keep up with his unrelenting pace as he just kept dragging me down the beach, shoulders tense, stony face focused forward.
"Charlie," my voice whispered when the concert was nothing but a bright light in the distance behind us, nothing but the waves and moon there to witness whatever was to follow.
He pulled to a stop, my body unprepared for it, slamming into his shoulder with an unrefined oomph.
"What kind of plans does he have for you?" he asked, voice as fierce as the look in his eyes.
"Charlie, I don't..."
"Want to talk about that asshole," he finished for me. "I get it. But we're talking about it. What plans?"
I felt my shoulders drop, my gaze moving over his shoulder to look at the whitecaps on the water, the tide picking up seeming just for this moment, this conversation, like the universe was picking up on the riptide beneath us, determined to pull us under before we could even get used to the temperature of the water.
"I don't know anything for sure. He doesn't exactly talk business with me."
"But..."
"But our housekeeper - who has been like a mother to me - thinks the only reason he has kept me around when he clearly doesn't care about me is because he plans to use me."
"Use you how?" Charlie demanded, words still firm, unyielding, and cold. Like maybe he knew. Like maybe he just needed the confirmation.
"It's crazy, really, but she thinks that he has plans to use me to secure better connections with suppliers in Colombia."
"How?" he demanded again, hand reaching out to snag my chin, forcing me to face him as I admitted the ugliest part of it all.