Her lips part and she pulls the shirt up to her chest.
“But only when you’re sober.” I turn back toward her and cup her face in my hands. “I care about you too much to let you do something stupid, even when that stupid thing is me. I’ve wanted to have sex with you since I saw you, but this isn’t how it was supposed to happen.”
My throat starts to feel tight, and I rest my forehead against hers again. She keeps my t-shirt over her breasts with one hand and brings the other to my face. Her mouth opens and a small breath comes out instead of words.
My resolve is weak right now, and I have to remind myself she’s drunk. She might tell me she cares too, and that she’s been resisting this whole time and it took until tonight to realize that she wants me too.
That she misses me just as much as I miss her and she couldn’t keep the truth from me after a few drinks, but she’s glad it’s out now. That she loves me and will still feel the same way in the morning so we might as well fuck now so we can do it again once the sun comes up.
But she doesn’t say anything at all.Chapter 27Owen“You…you should get some rest,” I tell her, forcing myself to break away. I help her pull the t-shirt over her head and then untuck the sheets. She nestles down into the covers and reaches for me.
“Will you stay with me?” she asks, brows pinched together. “I’m not too drunk to know I like having you with me.”
“Of course.” I kiss her forehead and get up to get her water. My cock is still hard and throbbing against my jeans. Charlie is in my bed, wearing my t-shirt, and was all too willing to have sex.
I turned her down.
Hell has frozen over.
Pigs are flying.
I guess there’s a first for everything.
But I meant what I said. I care about Charlie too much to let her be a drunken hook-up. Burying my cock deep inside of her, feeling her pussy contract around it as she comes…fuck, I’m getting even harder just thinking about it.
I want to fuck her.
But I want to love her more.
I awkwardly go down the stairs and grab a water bottle from the kitchen. Charlie is almost asleep when I get back into the room. Setting the water on the nightstand next to the bed, I go into the bathroom, turn on the shower, and strip out of my clothes.
I grab my cock as soon as I step into the shower. All I have to do is think back to a few minutes ago, to the way Charlie felt up against me…the way she tasted, to get myself off. Coming brings me physical relief, but I’m still painfully unsatisfied.
Hot water streams down on me, and I stay in the shower for a few more minutes just to calm myself down. I almost had sex with Charlie, and I stopped it from happening.
Do I hate myself?
Are things going to be fucking awkward in the morning? She’ll leave, I’m sure.
“Fuck,” I mutter and turn off the water. Maybe I should have slept with her. At least I would have had one last time before she left for good. I dry off, brush my teeth, and then go back into the bedroom. I didn’t bring any clothes into the bathroom with me, so I wrap the towel around my waist again, shut off the bathroom light, and wait a beat before opening the door to let my eyes adjust to the dark.
Charlie is still in my bed and has rolled over onto her back. Her blonde hair is strewn about her face, and she has one hand up resting on the pillow above her head. She looks so peaceful and so innocent.
I did the right thing by not sleeping with her, even though it hurts. Letting out a sigh, I cross the room, put on a pair of boxers, and get into bed.
“Owen?” Charlie grumbles, not opening her eyes.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
She wiggles closer, feebly reaching for me. I move in next to her, taking her in my arms. Her head rests on my chest and she hooks one leg over mine.
“Thank you, Owen.”* * *
For only the second time in my adult life, I wake up with a woman in my arms who I hadn’t had sex with the night before. And for the second time, the morning is nearly perfect.
“Careful,” I tell Charlie, who sits up fast. “You’re probably going to feel last night.”
Blinking, she looks at me and then down at herself.
“No, not that kind of feel,” I tell her.
“I know,” she grumbles and puts her head in her hands. “I remember everything.” She flops back down onto the pillow and turns to face me. Her cheeks redden. “Thank you, Owen.”