Page 106 of Duke's Daring Bookworm
She fell asleep with my hand still gripping her tight and I didn’t see her again. I respected her wishes and stayed away from the funeral, as painful as that was. I didn’t stay away from her grave, though. She didn’t ask that of me, and I put fresh flowers there every time I visited Savannah, including the day before I left to come here.
I still prayed she was right and that I just needed to use this chance to prove myself to Jess, prove that we can work again, prove that my heart is hers and always has been.
Chapter 7
Jess
“I’ve never had another girlfriend. There’s not been anyone but you.” Charles’ voice echoed through my head. He had sounded angry and hurt when he said it, like the thought of being with anyone but me was unbearable to him. My heart was racing along with my thoughts. None of this made any sense. It’s been ten years since I broke up with him. Surely, in that time, he’s been with other people, he’s dated, he’s loved.
No. No, no, no, no, no.
I can’t — I can’t deal with this. Thinking he had found love, someone better than me, got me through the heartbreak. He hasn’t. He’s been alone for ten years, and it’s all my fault.
God fucking dammit, Jess.
My heart rate and breathing picked up again, but I couldn’t move. He had to hate me now. Hell, I hated myself now.
“Love will find you when you’re ready for it,” my grandma told me when I moped from loneliness. Did she mean Charles? Did she mean he was waiting for me?
This whole time. She knew. She knew he — he what? Still loved me? That couldn’t be right. He couldn’t possibly still love me. Not after I broke his heart. Not after all this time. I wasn’t worth that kind of devotion.
My lungs burned from my frantic breathing and the thin, cold air. The same air numbed my fingers and toes and stung my cheeks, and I realized I was standing outside in a snowstorm at high elevation with little more than a sweater and the boots I had hastily put on. I wasn’t ready to face him yet, but I couldn’t stay outside.
“I’m going to take a bath,” I said when I stepped into the warm cabin. Charles looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself and just nodded. I could feel his eyes tracking me as I went into the bedroom to grab my robe and a change of clothing. His silence bothered me and I couldn’t figure out why. A part of me wanted him to fight with me, to treat me like I was the villain, because I was. He didn’t, though. He treated me like a friend.
A friend.
That should be good. That should be the best I could hope for, but I couldn’t help wishing for more. Sometimes, the way he looked at me, what he said, how he acted, it was like hedidwant more, but that so far from how I expected him to act that I just couldn’t seem to process it.
I sunk back into the water, my fingers stinging from the sharp contrast between the cold outside and the warm bath. I don’t think I’ve had a moment to relax since getting here. Even when I’ve put on a mask of relaxing, my muscles were tense and my brain was running nonstop. Now, though, the bath worked like a charm and I could feel my shoulders and jaw unclench.
As I let the water soothe me, I rethought the last few days and tried to reconcile Charles’ declaration with his actions. He’d been so light-hearted from the start, teasing me about my pillow wall, guessing so accurately that I wanted to touch him, trying to get me to remember the good times.
A picture of him shirtless that first night flitted through my head. For years, my go to fantasy included how Iimagined he would have grown and changed. That fantasy was nothing compared to reality. He was large, not just tall like I remembered, but built thick and muscled. I imagined running my hands along his body. What would he feel like?
I couldn’t touch him, so I touched myself instead. The contrast between the cool air and warm water caused me to be aware of every inch of my skin. I lifted my chest out of the water and let my nipples pebble in the cold air before raising my hands to them and circling them lightly, gently grazing them with my thumb.
All the while, I pictured Charles. He would touch me with sure strokes. He was never afraid to touch me before. Even in our teenage fumbling, he was confident and determined to figure out what I liked and what I didn’t. He touched me like he owned me, like he owned my pleasure and I was just along for the ride.
Oh, god.
I ran my hand down my body and spread my legs wide. When I ran into the limits of the side of the tub, I lifted one leg out of the water and angled my hips for better access. I didn’t go straight for the most pleasurable spot, but circled around, grazing my hands along my thighs, my stomach, slowly inching closer and closer to my pussy. My first brush along my outer lips had my hips arching, begging for more.
I pictured Charles there, standing over me. He wasn’t touching me though, just watching as I pleasured myself, a slightly disapproving frown on his face, like he didn’t like the way I was doing it. Then he would smirk and drop his hands to the waist of his shorts. I didn’t know what he looked like below them, but my imagination was active and had no problem filling in the blanks. The sound that left my mouth as I pictured him pulling his shorts down, his cock already half hard, wasinhuman, and my outer lips spread in arousal, opening me up to more exploration.
“Are you touching yourself for me?” Imaginary Charles purred. Despite standing in front of me, his voice was coming from beside me and a shiver ran down my spine, directly to my pussy.
“Yeah.” I could barely whisper it. Arousal had punched the air out of my lungs, and all I wanted was to breathe him in.
“Good girl.” His cock twitched and hardened further. He brought his hand down to stroke it slowly.
I slipped my finger to the edge of my opening and gathered my juices before slowly bringing it up to circle my clit. “Fuck.”
“Just like that,” he growled. “Don’t forget about your nipple. Pinch it for me.”
My other hand had been stationary, just lightly cupping my breast. I had forgotten about my nipple. I did what he demanded and pinched my nipple, lightly at first and then firmer, tugging on it slightly as I grazed just above my clit.
My back arched out of the water and I nearly lost my balance before I hooked my leg better around the edge of the tub.
