Knocking Boots - Willow Winters Page 0,70

it. I moan every time he moves his finger.

It’s so taboo, so wrong…

He sucks on my clit, although I can’t forget about where his finger is. He picks up the pace, his tongue moves faster, massaging and taking me higher. He slowly brings a second finger to join the first.

I explode, riding high on a wave of sensation that won’t stop. I call his name as I find a sudden release, a blessing or a curse, I don’t know.

Before I even finish, Charlie stands up and turns me around. My naked breasts touch the bar and I spread my legs for him. He runs his hand down my bare back, and squeezes one of my ass cheeks.

“You really want me?” he asks me.

“Yes,” I groan. “Are you going to…” I want to ask him if he’s going to try to put himself…

“Not tonight, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” Before I can answer, the words are knocked out of me.

He enters me in one brutal stroke, making us both cry out. He fills me completely, possesses me utterly, steals my very breath.

He does it again, and again. Over and over, he strokes into me with every bit of his strength. My body knows what's coming. I’m shaking like a leaf.

Every nerve ending cries out for fulfillment. I move with him, thrust with him until I can’t anymore. Until I see the edge of the precipice, looking up from down below.

He doesn’t stop fucking me, taking me even higher. Prolonging the pleasure.

He stiffens and grabs my hips hard, bruising my flesh as he finds his own release.

When he’s finished, we stand, both catching our breath and coming back down to earth for a long moment, struggling to breathe. I turn my head back, and he nuzzles my neck, but he won’t look me in the eyes. He finally withdraws from my body and I wince, already aching between my legs.

“Wait here,” he says, pulling up his pants.

I turn around, picking my dress up from the floor. He returns as I'm putting the dress on. He has a clean, wet rag.

“Here,” he says, reaching low to wipe the stickiness from between my legs. I balance myself by gripping onto his shoulder as I feel the warm rag wipe me clean.

“Thanks,” I say awkwardly. The tension is still there. It’s suffocating. As soon as he's done, I finish getting dressed, pulling my panties on and watching Charlie. But he never looks at me the whole time.

I’m trying to be what he wants but I can feel him already slipping away.

He tosses the rag aside and catches me by the waist. Finally, his green eyes stare back at me and my heart flips. His mouth kicks up, half a smile on his face. He kisses me, slow and tender.

When I break away, his smile falters and he lets me go. “I still have to close. It’s going to be awhile. An hour, at least.” He scratches the back of his head, looking away.

“Oh,” I respond but so many questions linger at the back of my throat. “I think I’ll go. I have to work in the morning.”

“Right,” he says with a frown. “Right, of course. I’ll just walk you to the door then.”

“No need,” I assure him. “I think I can make it a whole hundred feet alone.”

He looks like he’s going to argue with me, but then he swallows it back. “Sure. I’ll see you later, then?” he asks.

“Yeah. Sure,” I answer him as I slip on my heels, only then remembering I never told him anything I wanted to say. It hurts way too much to not be a breakup.

“Okay. Text me when you get home, let me know you got there safe.”

I give him a half smile that I don’t mean, feeling the split between us. What the hell is wrong with me?

I open my mouth to tell him, but I can’t. He has to work, and I need to get home. If I say anything right now, I know I’m going to cry. I’m going to be that clingy girl he didn’t want. Instead, I let myself out and cry alone in the car on my way home alone.

Charlie

Little Evie is upright in Joseph’s lap, staring back at me with wide eyes as I shove peas into my mouth.

I don’t taste a damn thing. It’s been five days. Five fucking days since that night at the bar.

I should have ended it that night at the bar or at least