Page 227 of The Charlie Method

My fingers tangle in his hair. “Don’t stop.”

His tongue circles my clit, teasing me until my legs are shaking. I can barely think, barely breathe, and all I can hear is the slick sound of his mouth on me and his husky, dirty praise.

“You’re so perfect, Charlie,” he mumbles, looking up at me, his lips glistening. “So wet for me. Tell me how much you want it.”

“I want you. I need you inside me.”

His smile is wicked as he stands, rough hands lifting me onto the counter. I don’t have a chance to catch my breath before he’s filling me completely, and the shock of it makes me cry out. He grips my thighs, pulling me closer, his thrusts deep and urgent.

“You feel so good,” he groans. “So tight. You were made for me, weren’t you? Made for me to fuck like this.”

“Yes,” I gasp.

He grunts low in his throat as he slams into me, over and over, until I’m on the brink of losing control. “I want you to come for me. Come on my cock, baby girl. Let me feel it.”

His command sends me over the edge, and the orgasm crashes through me. Beckett follows right after, groaning my name as he shudders against me. For a long moment, we’re both shaking, the world falls away, and it’s just us.

His sculpted chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. “Sorry. I couldn’t wait,” he says, grinning like a mischievous kid.

I choke out a laugh. “Yeah, I noticed.”

We stay there for a few moments, just holding each other, the sound of the ocean outside the window. I look up at him, my heart full, but that ache is still there, buried deep.

“I was thinking a lot about Will today,” I admit, running my fingers over his chest.

Beckett nods, his smile faltering. He slides out of me and hikes his sweatpants back up to his hips. “Yeah. Me too. The election’s tomorrow.”

I nod back. Will’s been working nonstop on the campaign. He’s been texting us, keeping us updated on everything, and while I’m excited for him, I also wish he were here with us. That he could be part of this life we’re building.

“Do you think his candidate will win?” I ask as I scrounge on the floor for my clothes.

“I hope so. He’s worked his ass off for this. He deserves it.”

We’re both quiet for a moment, lost in our thoughts.

Finally, Beckett looks at me, his features soft. “You miss him a lot.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yeah. I do.”

He comes over and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle. “Me too. But…we have this, sugar puff. And it’s good. It’s really good.”

No, what we have is better than good. But there’ll always be that part of me that misses Will.

“But if he changes his mind again and doesn’t want to come…will it still be good?” Beckett asks roughly. “With us?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“If he doesn’t come, am I enough for you?”

My jaw drops. “Oh my God. Of course you are.”

He searches my face, uncharacteristic vulnerability flickering in his eyes. “You sure?”

“One hundred percent.” We both hear my conviction. Because I fucking mean it. “I love Will, but my love for him has nothing to do with my love for you. You are more than enough, Beck. You protect me, you care for me, you make me feel safe, you fuck me on command—”

He snickers.

“How could I ever not be satisfied with that? With you?” I cup his face, stroking the day-old stubble on his jaw. “I love you. A million times over.”

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