The Charlotte Chronicles (Jackson Boys 1)
Her words hang in the air, and I’m chilled despite the hot water. I’m the reason that our childhood bond was broken.
“I love those letters. I read them constantly, and they got me through a lot of hard times. Some guys in the service never get one thing. It was wrong to not write you back and expect you to continue to correspond with me, but I was selfish. I could not give those letters up.”
Charlotte turns in my arms and wraps a pair of wet arms around my neck, awkwardly lying sideways between my legs. “It doesn’t matter. Not now. Not anymore.”
I crush her to me, wanting to write those words in indelible ink on our skin. The only thing that matters is that we’re together now. The past is over. I plunge my tongue deep inside my mouth, letting her know exactly what I want and how I want it. She kisses me back just as aggressively, and my cock rises out of the water seeking appeasement.
Unfortunately, she breaks away and lays her head on my heaving chest. “Tell me what it’s like to be a Navy SEAL.”
“It’s a lot less romantic than the movies and books make it out to be. Every day is a training day, even the days in which you’re actually conducting an operation.” I don’t want to talk anymore, but I’m not going to push myself on her if she’s hurting.
“Nate,” she says after I fall silent.
“What, baby?”
“I don’t think I’m that sore after all.”
“Thank Christ.” I lift her and in one hard thrust fit my entire shaft in her cunt. Still holding her back firmly against my chest, I slide all the way down to the end of the tub, jerking the handheld shower off the hook. With one hand I catch it, and with my other hand I hit the water.
“What are you going to do with that?” she asks suspiciously.
“Make you scream, baby.” I turn the shower head dial to pulse and place it directly over her clit. Kneeling against the tub base, I jack my hips against her from behind while the water strikes her tender pussy. Our bodies are slick and leverage is hard to attain and we slip around the tub as I pound into the tight clutch of her cunt until we reach the end of the tub. Our hands hit the tile, and she braces as I thrust. It doesn’t take long for a low keening cry to erupt as she convulses around me. The nonstop pressure from the dual assault triggers a second orgasm.
“Nate,” she cries. “I can’t take it.”
“Oh yes you can,” I grunt, digging my knees into the hard surface and thrusting upward with as much power as I can muster. I want her to come again and again until all that exists for her is me and the pleasure I can bring to her. Back arched, neck exposed, she allows the tsunami of feeling to overwhelm, and I finally allow myself to come, spurting hard threads inside her sex. When it is over, we rest against the wall, my heavy weight bearing down over her slighter one.
My arms are weak like Jell-O, but after I recover a small measure of strength, I carry her, half dazed, from the bathroom into the bedroom.
Laying her on the sheets, I cover her and pull on my jogging clothes. I should be tired, but I’m not. Every inch of me is alive as if I’ve just finished a successful mission. And I suppose it is a successful mission. Charlotte’s in my bed, wearing my ring, and sporting the best just-fucked smile this side of the Pacific.
She’s still sleeping when I return from my run. I toe-off my sweaty shoes and socks, tossing the smelly things into a laundry bag.
A knock on the door interrupts my journey back to Charlotte. A look through the peephole gives me a jolt a surprise. Yanking the door open, I greet my former teammate. “Ford, what’s up man?”
“You got a minute?”
“Yeah, come on in.” I open the door wider and gesture for him to enter. He shakes his head in refusal.
“How about out here.” He jerks his head toward the hallway.
“Sure.” I can count the times Ford has sought me out on my one hand. The last time we really talked was during the CIAs search for the journalist, after we’d failed to rescue her the first time. He might be a spook now, but he was my teammate once. I’d do pretty much anything for a teammate. I step out and close the door behind me. “Sorry, I just got back from a run.”
“Yeah, no problem.” He glances around me to the closed door, rubs his head, and looks down the hall. I’ve never seen Ford nervous before, so it takes me a minute to recognize that he’s not checking for targets but searching for the right words to say.