Page 110 of Never Kiss and Tell

“Good girl.” He pulls back, powering me through one last, soul-shaking orgasm. He kisses me roughly, growling in satisfaction as he comes.

“Fuck,” he curses when his orgasm subsides, kissing me softly.

It’s at that moment I realize with some distress that I am falling completely, helplessly, one hundred percent in love withCharlie Coulter. My enemy.

And I had done so before I ever broke the no kissing rule.

I’m stuck in this now. If I don’t end this soon, I’m not sure there will be any of me left to take back to Malibu when I leave.

Charlie cleans me, puts cream on my wrists and backside, even though there are no marks, then he just kisses me. He kisses me until all sounds of the city die down outside the house and I can barely keep my eyes open. My body feels lax, my lips swollen, but still I kiss him with a fever I’ve come to realize is reserved for only him.

“Are you falling asleep on me, sweetheart?” he asks, nipping at my bottom lip and forcing my eyes open.

I laugh sleepily, curling further into his embrace. “I should go home. I’m tired.”

I move to slide out from under the covers, but Charlie catches my hand.

“Come here,” he chuckles, his voice still husky. He pulls me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me. His warm front rests against my back and even though I can feel he’s still hard, he doesn’t press the matter.

“I thought you didn’t do sleepovers?” I joke, nestling into him. I can’t resist the urge to shut my eyes, yawning.

Charlie’s lips press against the soft flesh behind my ear. The movement is sweet, possessive. It fills my stomach with things I don’t want to feel.

“I don’t.”

“This is complicating things,” I say after a moment, worry making my stomach feel like a pissed off bee hive.

“So let it,” he responds, holding me tighter.

I don’t argue with him. I haven’t slept next to someone in a long time, especially not with them holding me — no, cradling me, like I’m something precious to them. At least, not while sober. Despite the deal, despite the animosity I used to feel toward him, I meant what I said to him earlier. I trust him. In fact, I feel safe with him.

I curl up, closing my eyes and succumbing to the weight of sleep trying to drag me under. Even if it is just for tonight, maybe he can chase away my nightmares and make me feel like a human. Like I’m not just an accessory or a toy or a child.

Maybe for tonight, I can just be his.

Charlie

“Don’t touch me.”

The words cut through my consciousness like a sharp blade. Something moves beside me, shoving into my side. My eyes shoot open, the heavy haze of sleep still threatening to drag me back under.

“No,” Bailey whispers, tears in her voice.

I panic, reaching for her, until I realize she’s having a dream. A nightmare.

I gently brush her hair back from her face. “Sweetheart,” I whisper, placing a kiss on her lips. “Wake up.”

I lightly shake her and her eyes shoot open. She clambers up the bed, away from me.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice unsteady and her hands shaky.

“Come here,” I say, holding out my arms to her. She eyes me suspiciously, but comes anyway, sinking into my arms. “What were you dreaming about?”

She buries her head in my chest, inhaling like she’s grounding herself.

“Nothing,” she whispers, so quiet I can barely hear her.

“Bailey.”

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