Page 72 of Charlie Sunshine
“Hardly,” I scoff. “It’s just a play.” I wink at him. “And dinner if you promise to put out.”
He punches me gently on the shoulder, his eyes glittering. “It’s the best,” he insists fiercely. “You used what you knew about me to create something you knew I’d love. And don’t think I’m unaware that it’s not your thing.”
“My thing is you,” I say softly. “I’ve been coming up with ideas for years. We just never called them dates.”
“Maybe we should have,” he murmurs. “We wasted a lot of time.”
“And maybe at another time we’d have crashed and burned. Everything happens in its own time, Charlie.”
He bends and kisses me, scrambling my thoughts and stealing my breath. When he pulls back, he smiles at me. It’s extremely fuckingpotent at this distance. “Thank you,” he says and sits up. “So, what are we seeing?” he asks excitedly.
I shake my head at him. “Some Shakespeare shit. Tickets are in the bedside drawer. You can see for yourself.”
“Yes,” he says and knee walks across the bed, leaning forwards to scrabble through the drawer. I watch as the sheet slips away, leaving him nude, and reach down and fist my cock which is hardening nicely.We’ve got time for a shag, I think lazily before I notice that his whole body has stiffened. I don’t have any time for any other thoughts before he whirls around, and I see what he’s holding.
“Oh shit,” I say.
“Care to tell me why there’s a pair of lace knickers in here that look very much like a pair I lost after the weekend in Brighton?”
“Oh… yes. Well… shit!”
He arches one dark eyebrow. “Well, that’s a very erudite explanation, Misha.”
I scramble to sit and hold my hands out defensively. “I can explain.”
“Yes, I believe that’s what I’m waiting for.”
I draw in a deep breath.Why the fuck didn’t I remember those knickers were in there?“Harry threw them at me in Brighton in the hotel corridor. Then I punched him in the face and we shouted at each other a lot. Another resident complained about the noise, and so Harry and I talked and then he left me with them.”
A stunned silence falls. His hand tightens around the cherry-red lace until his knuckles turn white.
I bite my lip. “Erm–”
“Am I to believe that my boyfriend at the time showed you these knickers just before you informed him that he was my ex-boyfriend? And then you kept the knickers in your bedside table and never said a bloody word to me in all this time?”
His cheeks are red and his eyes stormy, and I decide immediately to go on the defensive.
“And when were we supposed to have that conversation? When you were having the turns or while you were with your mum?”
“How about in the last couple of weeks that we’ve been together?” he shouts. Charlie rarely shouts.
“Are you angry with me?” I say tentatively. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I never knew how to bring it up.”
“What? That I’m a freak?”
“You’re not a fuckingfreak,” I say, anger seizing me. “Who the fuck told you that?” My vision darkens. “It was that wanker Harry, wasn’t it?” I hurl myself off the bed. “Oh myGod, he made you ashamed when it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. All the times I’ve wanked over them, and you think I’d call you names?” I grab my jeans. “I’m going to fucking kill him. I’m going to take those knickers and push them down his bloody throat and–”
“Misha.” Charlie’s voice intrudes on my rant.
He’s kneeling naked on the side of the bed, the knickers clenched in his hand. His cheeks match the cherry-red of the lace and his eyes are low-lidded. His cock is hard, but I tear my gaze away before I get distracted.
“You thought it was sexy? You wanked over them?” he says huskily.
I stand absolutely still. “It depends,” I say cautiously. “On whether that’s sexy or perverted.”
“Both,” he offers.
“Oh well, then, I definitely wanked over them.” I nod a couple of times. “Allthe time. Every night.”
