Summary: When he returns from his fishing trip, Chris invites MC (Charlotte) over to his house for dinner and dessert takes a steamy turn.
The following morning, Charlotte awoke to the chirp of her cell phone. Her eyes still closed, she fumbled blindly at the nightstand for the phone but only succeeded in knocking it to the floor.
“God dammit,” Charlotte mumbled into her pillow. She leaned over the edge of the bed, nearly sliding onto the floor, but she caught herself and scrabbled for the phone, finally securing it. With what felt like a herculean effort, Charlotte hauled herself back into the bed and brought the phone close to her eyes, squinting at the bright screen.
Finally have service again! Are you free for dinner tonight? I’m cooking.
It took a moment for Charlotte to register that the text was from Chris. She smiled.
Sure, she texted back.
Chris texted her the address to his house and Charlotte lay back in the bed, feeling a small flutter of excitement. Yesterday’s massive hangover was finally just a painful memory and she was feeling better, like this could really be her new start. She knew she still had to get out of the house, but there wasn’t a harm in staying just a little longer while James and Vanessa were off on their honeymoon. Charlotte would have to return the keys to him and it made sense to wait until he as back in town
Right?
When Charlotte pulled up to Chris’s house, she couldn’t help but smile. It was exactly the sort of house she would’ve imagined a flower guy to live in. The flower beds lining the walkway and the front of the house were bursting with blooms, including a trellis that arched over the stone pathway that hung heavy with clusters of purple flowers. It reminded her of the cover of The Secret Garden, which had been her favorite book as a child. Charlotte had longed for a secret bit of earth all her own, where she could make things grow and create a lush garden palace. Unfortunately, the apartment they’d lived in when she and Kaitlyn were kids was lacking in secret gardens, so Charlotte had resigned herself to creating one in a planter box. But the apartment had been lacking in natural light and despite Charlotte’s best efforts, the colorful flowers she’d transplanted from the local nursery had withered and died. Chris, however, with his beautiful garden, did not seem to share her childhood hurdles.
Charlotte parked her car on the street and walked slowly through the front gate, glancing around at the lush flora around her. She paused under the trellised archway and looked up at the flowering vines, thinking that this must be what it felt like to stand inside a fairy tale.
“Did you get lost on your way to do the door?”
Charlotte yelped, startled. She hadn’t even heard Chris open the front door. She looked over at the house as she put a hand on her pounding heart and saw him leaning against the door frame, an amused smile curling his lips. Charlotte swallowed, trying to get her breathing to return to normal.
“I was just admiring your garden,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks,” Chris said as he stood up straight and walked down the pathway towards her. “I kind of modeled it after English cottage gardens, but I try to use native Maine plants whenever I can. Better for the local ecosystem.”
Charlotte nodded as she surveyed the garden, noticing a bench off to one side. “Do you sit out here often?”
“Not as often as I’d like,” Chris admitted. “With my dad still recovering from knee surgery, I’ve barely been able to keep tabs on my garden, let alone enjoy it.”
They stood in silence for a moment, each studying the flowers. Chris stood close enough to where Charlotte could feel the warmth radiating off his skin as the sun continued to sink below the horizon, cooling the evening air. She shivered.
“Hey, are you hungry?” Chris asked, noticing her shiver. “I’ve got steaks on the grill that should be almost done.”
“Steaks?” Charlotte asked as she followed him into the house. The interior was sparse, but clean and functional. Clearly, Chris was not as invested as decorating the interior as he was the exterior.
“Oh, shoot, do you not eat red meat?” Chris asked, a concerned when he stopped and turned to her. “Dammit, I knew I should’ve checked.”
“No, no, that’s not it at all,” Charlotte assured him quickly. “I’m a carnivore, I promise. I’m just surprised is all. You were just on a fishing trip so I was just expecting a different menu, that’s all.”
Chris laughed. “That was my original plan when I first planned on asking you over for dinner, but we didn’t catch anything.”
“How long have you been planning on asking me over for dinner?” Charlotte asked as she arched an eyebrow. Chris’s cheeks flushed slightly when he realized she’d noticed that detail.
“So, do you want something to drink?” he asked as he headed towards the fridge. “I’ve got beer, wine, iced tea, water …”
“Iced tea.” Although her hangover was long gone, the memory was not. “And you didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, you’re right, I didn’t,” Chris said as he handed her a glass of tea, the ice clinking gently against the sides. “To answer your question, the steaks should be done in just a couple more minutes.”
Charlotte raised her eyebrow at him as he smiled smugly, but she didn’t push it.
They ate dinner at Chris’s kitchen table and the conversation flowed easily between them, the last of the summer light vanishing, unnoticed, until the food was long gone and their drinks were little more than melting ice. Charlotte stood up and started to collect the plates but Chris caught her wrist.
“Wait, I’ll take care of that,” he said.
“No!” Charlotte protested. “You cooked, it’s only fair I clean up.” She noticed that Chris hadn’t let go of her wrist yet and she didn’t really feel inclined to take it back.
“But you’re my guest,” Chris insisted. “Please.”
“Fine,” Charlotte said. “But can I at least take my plate over to the sink?”
Chris heaved an exaggerated sigh and sat back heavily in his chair. “Fine. But no washing.”
Charlotte smiled and took their plates to the sink. She set them on the counter and turned on the water to start rinsing their silverware. Charlotte didn’t hear him get up from his chair, but she felt the warmth of his body as he came to stand behind her.
“I thought I said no washing,” he said, his warm breath on her ear as he traced his fingertips down her forearms to her hands and took the silverware from her and dropped it into the sink with a clatter.
“What can I say? I’m a rebel,” Charlotte said with a grin, looking over her shoulder at him. Once again, she was struck by how blue his eyes were.
“What am I going to do with you?” he asked as he turned off the sink, his chest pressing lightly against her back. He didn’t step away and Charlotte didn’t want him to.
“That depends,” she said, her lips just far enough away to where they weren’t touching his, not yet. “What do you want to do with me?”
Chris put his hands on her hips and slowly turned her around until she was facing him. Then he softly ran his hands up her sides to her shoulders, trailing his fingers down her arms to her hands. His skin was softer than Charlotte had expected and she threaded her fingers between his. Chris ran his thumbs over her knuckles before he released her hands and let his touch drift back up her arms to her neck. Charlotte felt her pulse quicken when he slid one hand around the back of her neck as he let the other drift down, his fingertips tracing the line of her collarbone. She put her hands on his hips and pulled his hips against hers, wanting to feel him against her. His breath hitched when their bodies made contact, but Chris kept his movements slow. Charlotte watched his face and to her, it looked like he was trying to study her, to memorize her skin. She tilted her face towards his and he allowed himself to lean closer, just enough to let his lips brush hers, but he didn’t fully kiss her, at least not the way she desperately wanted him to. The air between them was thick and charged with electricity and Charlotte didn’t want to break the moment, but she did want him to keep touching her. God, did she want him to touch her.
Chris’s breath was warm against her cheek as he let his fingers drift lower, down below her collarbone. He reached the low neckline of her shirt and traced its edge with his fingertip as it flowed over the swell of her breasts. Charlotte inhaled sharply and Chris’s hand hesitated.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she leaned closer to his ear, her lips just barely kissing his skin. Charlotte felt his hand move again, continuing along the line of her shirt. When he’d made the full arc of her neckline, he let his hand trace the same path, although this time the tip of his finger was hooked inside her shirt, his knuckle brushing her skin and the lace bra she wore beneath it. Charlotte could feel the unmistakable hardness beneath his jeans, his hips still flush against hers, and she slowly slid one of her hands beneath his shirt. His back was warm under her touch and she spread her palm flat against his skin. Chris turned his face towards hers and they stayed there, each of them unwilling to break the tension with a kiss.
When Chris ran his hand along the neckline of her shirt again, this time his fingers dipped lower brushing against her hardening nipples through her lace bra. She noticed the change in his breathing, deeper now, his eyes, darkening with desire, meeting hers. Charlotte slid her other hand under his shirt, both hands now tracing over his toned, muscular stomach before hooking her fingers into the waistband of his jeans. She lightly ground her hips against his and Chris rocked his against hers, the edge of the counter digging into her back. He removed his hand from her shirt and ran his hand up her chest before tracing the line of her jaw with his fingertips, stopping just under her chin, tilting her lips closer to his.
Charlotte was just about to give in and kiss him when she felt his lips on hers, soft but assertive. Her muscles felt tense and ready to spring and she wanted to devour him, but she forced herself to go slowly and match his speed. She tentatively slipped her tongue past his lips and he met her with ardor, his tongue folding into hers. The slow burn of a kiss began to intensify and Charlotte rocked her hips against him again, feeling a thrill at the push back as Chris’s hands tangled in her hair. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it up, and Chris released her long enough to yank his shirt off, throwing it aside before his lips crashed back into hers. Charlotte moaned softly as she sank into the bruising kiss, her fingers digging into his back to pull him closer as he ran his lips from her mouth and across her cheek before going down her neck, biting gently at the tender flesh.
“Do you still want to know what I want to do with you?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl as his hands slid underneath her shirt, pushing it up.
“Show me,” Charlotte gasped as his fingers found the hardened peaks of her breasts.
Chris picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her out of the kitchen and through his house, kissing her as he made his way through the dark rooms. Chris kicked his bedroom door open and it hit the wall with a crack, sending shivers down Charlotte’s spine. He set her down gently on the bed before pulling her shirt up and over her head and throwing it away. Then he leaned over her, kissing her breasts through the lace that covered them, biting at her nipples before he tugged at the lace cups, pulling them down to expose her soft skin. Chris covered her breasts with kisses as he deftly unhooked the bra and discarded it, taking care to lick, suck, and gently bite each of her nipples in turn, causing Charlotte to moan with pleasure.
She felt his fingers unbutton her jeans and begin to push them down over her hips, pulling them away from her legs. He knelt before her to remove them before he kissed her ankle, slowly making his way back up her legs, his breath hot against her inner thighs as he moved closer and closer to her core. Chris gently ran his fingers over her lace panties, already warm and damp. Charlotte shifted under his touch as he began to rub her in slow circles through the fabric with his thumb. He paused briefly to hook his fingers in the waistband of her panties, pulling them down with the same slowness he’d used on her jeans. Once again, he kissed his way up her leg, urging her knees further apart. Charlotte’s heart hammered in her chest, her body wound tight with desire, and then she felt Chris’s fingers teasing her entrance. He slipped one finger inside of her, slowly moving it in and out of her before adding a second. Charlotte moaned and lifted her hips against his hand as he began to pump his fingers faster. She was already close but when she felt his tongue on her clit, it wasn’t long before she was writhing beneath him, pulling at his hair as she came, words lost in a cry of ecstasy.
Charlotte was still shuddering from the aftershocks of her orgasm as she watched Chris straighten up, rubbing the back of his hand across his lips. She wasn’t sure when he’d taken off his pants but she saw him standing naked before her. Charlotte pushed herself up into a sitting position, still feeling a little lightheaded from her climax and she reached for his cock, taking him in her hands. Chris groaned slightly at her touch as she ran his hands up and down his length, rubbing her thumb over the head. Charlotte made no move to let him inside her, not yet, but continued to massage his length as Chris tilted her face up to his and kissed her, her own taste still on his tongue.
After a few minutes, Chris put his hands on hers, stilling them. He pulled away from her and reached into the nightstand to retrieve a foil packet that he ripped open with his teeth, discarding the wrapper before rolling the condom into place. Charlotte reached for him again and guided him towards her, teasing the tip of him against her entrance. Chris gently ran his hands up from her knees, over her hips, and up her sides before catching them in her hair, kissing her deeply. Charlotte hooked her hands on his arms as she returned the kiss, losing herself in the feel of his lips.
When he suddenly pushed into her, Charlotte moaned into his mouth and she felt his hands tighten in her hair. She was still so sensitive and she wanted him to thrust harder, faster, but instead he took his time, moving slowly and steadily. Charlotte wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper inside of her. Chris dropped his hands from her hair and gripped her hips instead, his fingers digging into her skin. She could feel his restraint, could feel how much control it took for him to keep up his slow pace. Charlotte wrapped herself around him, leaving kisses across his chest as she tasted the salt of his skin, the sweat on his back making her fingers slip as she clung to him.
After a while, Chris’s movements grew faster, less controlled. He slipped a hand between them, his fingers finding her clit as he thrust into her, hard. His light touch was all the encouragement Charlotte needed and she felt the orgasm already at the brink, teetering before she fell over the edge. When she finally did, she clenched around him and Chris groaned as he pounded into her, causing her orgasm to keep pulsing through her body as she cried out, her head dropping back. Chris captured her lips and she kissed him hungrily, consuming him as he reached his own relief, groaning again as his face twisted in pleasure.
After a few more final thrusts he stopped, both of them breathing hard as he rested his sweaty forehead against hers. Now that they were still, Charlotte could feel the cool air of the room settling on their damp skin. Still inside of her, Chris pulled her tightly against him, kissing her hair, her brows, her lips.
“Okay, fine, I won’t wash the dishes,” Charlotte said, her breathing still heavy and labored. Chris laughed, finally pulling away from her.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll be right back; if you want, you can get under the covers,” he added, gesturing to the bed before he walked off towards a bathroom and closed the door.
Charlotte pulled back the sheets and slipped in between them, the pillow feeling deliciously warm. It felt wonderful to be here like this, no worrying that Chris was going to emerge from the bathroom fully dressed and on his way out the door back to a fiancee the way James always had.
James. God, it always came back to him, didn’t it? Charlotte frowned up at the ceiling, hating that James was interrupting her thoughts at a time like this. He was married, it was done. He’d made his choice. Now it was time to make hers, to choose to move on her with her life. To be happy.
Chris emerged from the bathroom and smiled to see Charlotte nestled in his bed. He joined her beneath the sheets, pulling her to him. She settled her head on his chest and relaxed as she listened to the steady beat of his heart and he lazily played with her hair, brushing it back from her face and running his fingers through the soft strands.
“Hey, Chris?” Charlotte finally said.
“Yeah?”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.”
Charlotte sat up, pulling the blankets up to her chest. “So. I like you.”
Chris grinned as he reached out and let his fingers fall along the length of her arm. “Yeah, I kind of figured that out.”
“But,” Charlotte continued, “I just got out of a really complicated relationship … thing. And as much as I like spending time with you, I can’t commit to anything serious right now. It just wouldn’t be fair to you. Or myself, for that matter, since I’m still trying to get my head back on straight.”
“Hey, I’m fine with that,” he said as he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “I’m not in any rush.”
It struck Charlotte that he was really telling the truth. He looked so relaxed, like they had all the time in the world to figure out where they stood. And, she considered, maybe they did.
“Can we still see each other while you’re figuring things out?” he asked. “No pressure or strings attached or anything like that; I just like spending time with you. And I don’t even mean this,” he said, gesturing to the two of them in his bed, “although I definitely really enjoyed it,” he clarified with a grin. “But I just like hanging out with you. Hiking, chatting in the bar, whatever.”
“Of course,” Charlotte said, her shoulders relaxing with relief. She leaned forward and kissed him before she lay down again. Chris wrapped her in his arms again and kissed the top of her head.
“Although,” Charlotte said, “I might be tempted to start washing dishes again …”
Chris laughed. “I’ll tell you what: I’ll agree to let you wash the dishes after breakfast if you agree I can find some way to pay you back.”
“Deal.”
