Page 82 of Brace and Chase

He did get drafted before me—one pick earlier—and that burned too. Not that I regret it now since I clearly ended up on the better team.

“And what were you implying then?” he asks, not losing his fake offended expression. He sits up and turns, his naked torso drawing me in and bewitching me.

“You’ve got good genes, sweetheart,” is all I say, then I kiss him slowly, coaxing a good mood out of him since my dick is still hard as a rock. “And you’re definitely my favorite Heart.”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “You like my food so much, and my grandmother taught me everything I know, so...”

“I’m going to have a talk with her. Maybe she’s the one I should be seducing.”

“Ew,” he cries, and I burst out laughing and lean back until my back is against the headboard. Then I spread my legs and pat the space between them.

“Let’s forget about grandma Heart for now,” I say and wiggle my eyebrows.

“We call her Lala, by the way,” he says with a laugh, and he moves into position. “And yeah, we can think about her some other time.”

I like making him laugh.

After a moment of just staring at it, he finally takes my dick, circles it with his long fingers and then... seems tostudy it. Quite critically if the way his eyebrows scrunching together is anything to go by.

My breath shudders out. It’s only happened one time before but I still can’t get over how good his hand feels around me. I didn’t think it could be possible from such a simple touch.

Then he mutters something I can’t understand and I feel sudden panic.

“You really don’t have to if?—”

He shuts me up by taking the head and maybe an inch more into his hot mouth, and then he sucks while holding my gaze prisoner with his dark bottomless eyes.

He takes a completely different approach to me, sucking hard, moving fast. Then he adds his hand into the mix, twisting his fingers at my base, and he even cups my balls with his other hand. I understand now why he was grabbing onto the sheets and twisting them in his hands.

It’s too good. You have to hold on to something when it feelsthis fucking?—

“Char—” That’s all I get out before I’m moaning and my orgasm hits me like an avalanche. My hips twitch uncontrollably, and I want to apologize when Charlie’s throat protests and he gags, but I’m still lost in the pleasure he’s bringing me. It seems to go on for longer than usual. Could it be because I was teasing him for so long?

I file that thought away and focus on making my lungs pull in air so I don’t pass the fuck out.

“Damn, sweetheart,” I say when I can finally speak.

“I’m pretty proud of myself,” he says, and he looks it.

“I’m proud of you too.” Hard breaths make my moves jerky, but I still manage to pat his head right where I wanted to. He swats my hand away and shuffles to the foot of the bed to stand.

“We need another shower,” he commands, and walks back to the bathroom. I watch him go, and enjoy the view for as long as it lasts.

Hours later,we’re done with dinner and just keeping the conversation going at the table with empty plates and espresso cups in front of us.

While he cooked, and he made me help so I could learn a few things, he kept up his bargain from before and told me all about his maternal grandmother.

I discovered he’s a good storyteller, from the tale of the beautiful Italian girl who fell in love with a simple man from Chicago.

Isabella and Joey, such common names if you think about it, but what they created out of that love and devotion was a big, messy, and loving family that they still look over to this day.

My heart ached just a little while listening to Charlie’s voice, saturated with love as he talked about them, and about the “most handsome cousin” competition they’d had over the years. I laughed along with him when he told meevery which way the kids drove their grandparents and aunts and uncles insane.

He told me about his oldest uncle, Enzo, and how he fell in love with a man when he was barely out of school. He told me of the hardships he had to endure thirty years ago for that love, and how today he’s married to the love of his life—another man named Atlas who restored his faith in love.

I listened intently, taking in every detail, because no matter how much it felt like every word was poking at a wound that has never healed, I still yearn for it.

Pirates family or not, it’s thanks to Charlie that I have to accept I still want more.

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