Page 125 of The Charlie Method

“Would Will be mad if he knew we were in here right now, making out?”

“He wouldn’t care.” Beckett leans in, brushing his lips over my earlobe as he whispers, “We like to share, remember?”

A shiver skitters along my spine. This is so far outside the lines of anything I’d ever imagined for myself. The thrill of it is undeniable, but still, the confusion is creeping back in.

“I have a question for you.” Beckett’s voice grows surprisingly tender.

I swallow. “What is it?”

“When you think about that night… when you think about both of us…kissing you, touching you…how does it make you feel?”

I don’t answer.

“How does it make you feel?” he repeats.

“Excited,” I confess. Then I let out a soft groan. “But I don’t know how to handle this. You guys keep telling me it’s not a big deal, but I feel conflicted about being attracted to both of you.”

“To us, it’s not a big deal. And you don’t have to handle it, Charlie. Just let it be what it is. No rules, no expectations.”

I stare up at him, my heart racing. It sounds so simple when he puts it that way, but I know it isn’t. Not really.

“What if someone gets hurt?”

“Then we deal with it when it happens. But for now, just enjoy it. No need to overthink.”

I nod, even as my mind continues to race. I’m out of my comfort zone, yet I can’t deny how much I want it. How much I want to be with them again. The lines are blurring, and I’m terrified of where this might lead.

My pulse quickens when Beckett steps toward the door—and locks it. Hearing my breath hitch, he glances over with a faint smile.

“We might not want anyone barging in for this part.”

I exhale in a wobbly rush. “Which part?”

He closes the distance between us, and I shiver as his lips travel over my jaw. He reaches my mouth and hovers there. “The part where I make you come.”

Before I can blink, he’s on his knees. He tips his head back, peering up at me, waiting for my signal.

I respond by spreading my legs.

He grins. “Really. Not even an illusion of protest?”

“No. I want this.”

His hands rest on my thighs, fingertips brushing the hem of my skirt. I’m not sure if it’s the way his hands are creeping upward or the lust swimming in his eyes, but every inch of me is awake, waiting. His fingers move higher, slipping beneath my skirt, grazing the soft skin of my inner thighs, and I gasp.

He smirks. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

But I have a card or two to play myself. “I don’t know if you’d be teasing me this way,” I warn him, “if you knew what you were missing.”

Smiling, I roll my skirt all the way up so he can see my panties.

His answering groan sets the air in this cramped space on fire. “Oh my fucking God. There’s a bow.”

“Nuh-uh. There’s two bows.”

I stroke the sides of my waistband, teasing the silky pink bows.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he mumbles. “I’m dead, Charlotte.”

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