Page 60 of Bump and Run
Charlie didn’t say anything else. I watched as he spread lube over himself, lined up with my hole and nudged me gently before he eased himself inside. Every single nerve ending in my body lit up.
Charlie was with me. He was going to be inside of me again, and everything was going to be okay. He loved me. I loved him. Things were going to work out like I had always wanted. We could be happy.
A low whimper escaped my mouth when Charlie slid all the way inside of me, his fingers digging sharply into my waist. He grabbed my legs and lifted them onto his shoulder, yanking me closer and putting me at an angle that brushed over my pleasure zone with every movement. I gasped as he moved inside me, bliss and joy rolling over my skin. I wanted to scream, cry, and beg Charlie to never stop. So that we could stay like this forever, him buried deep inside of me. Owning me. Making me come apart like no one else ever had or would.
“Jonesy.” He gritted his teeth. “You feel perfect. So fucking good.” Beads of sweat beaded on his forehead. “Who do you belong to?”
I reached my arms up toward him. “You, Charlie, I belong to you. And only you.” That familiar feeling began to hum inside my brain. The one that meant my release was near. I hadn’t even touched myself, but I knew I was close. I knew my body inside and out, how it reacted to stimuli, and right now—
I shouted his name, followed by a hoarse cry, and then I exploded across my stomach and chest. Charlie kept moving, his hips slapping against me, and then he kissed me, his tongue lapping around the seam of my mouth as he came. I swore I felt him jerk inside of me, flooding me with his release. He let out a low whine, then slumped against me, his face buried in my neck, his breath hot against my skin.
I dragged my hands through Charlie’s damp hair and listened to the sound of his breathing. I could have this every day. I could be with Charlie, he could sleep next to me, and everything would be perfect. We could have our happily ever after.
The way it was supposed to be.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Charlie
I blinked myself awake, my eyes adjusting to the sunlight that was currently beaming in through the curtainless windows. I was going to buy Jones some curtains today. That was what I had told him last night, before I shoved my tongue deep inside his ass, while his hands twisted into the sheets of the bed. My already-hard cock twitched at the memory, the sounds Jones had made, the way he pushed back against me and then begged me to put my dick inside of him. He didn’t exactly use those words, because this was my Jonesy, but I gave him what he wanted.
I brushed the haloed curls from his forehead, taking in the calmness of his face. His lids fluttered as he slept, his lips opened slightly, and his leg was pushed between mine. I brushed my lips against his, careful not to wake him, and felt a smile creep over my face. Jones was heartbreakingly beautiful. I was here in his bed because he still wanted me. He was still mine.
Jones loved me.
I climbed from the bed and managed to dig out a pair of his sweatpants that sort of fit me from the overstuffed dresser. They were a little short, riding up over my ankles and tight around my hips, but they would work for now. I brushed my teeth in the bathroom, tried to tame my hair,gave up, and wandered down into the kitchen to find some coffee. Only to come face to face with a very pissed off Ollie.
“I knew it,” he snarled, standing up and straightening his shoulders.
Ollie was a big man, towering over my six-foot frame, and right now I was a little terrified he was going to give me a black eye to match the one he was currently sporting along with the split lip. That looked fresh.
I held up my hands, palms out. “I love him, Ollie. You can hit me all you want, but I love Jones, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“You broke his heart,” Ollie reminded me, his hands balled into fists at his side. “You lied, Charlie. You left him and then you just, what? Charmed your way back into his pants? Goodness, this is going to end up a bigger mess than last time. And who’s going to have to pick up the broken pieces again? Me. That’s who.”
I was more than aware of what I had done. “You can hate me all you want, Ollie, but Jones has forgiven me.”
“I just... Do you even have any idea what he went through?” Ollie dragged both hands through his red hair, and his green eyes flashed angrily. “How he wanted to lie in bed all day. Jones wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t shower, he just slept. My brother and I...” He shook his head at the memories. “I can’t believe you’re here. In his house, in his clothes. It makes me sick.”
“I know that you’re in love with Jones. I’m sorry that I—”
“I’m not! I care about him. He’s my best friend, and sure, I love him like a brother, but I’m notinlove withhim! I thought I was, but now I know what love is. It’s angry and explosive. It’s frustrating and sweet. It’s hard kisses, whispered confessions in the heat of the moment, and stolen glances. That’s not what I felt for Jones.”
I stared at the giant before me, took in the way he avoided my gaze, the bruising around his eye and dried blood on his mouth. Who was hurting Ollie like this, and did he thinkthatwas love? That was abuse.
“How long have you been here?”
“Half an hour or so. I went to wake Jones, but...” He shrugged, and a smile pulled at his lips. “That’s more of my best friend than I wanted to see.”
I gripped the back of my neck. “Sorry about that.”
“You really love him?” Ollie asked. He didn’t look upset, just worried.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“I don’t know about you, but I could really go for some coffee.” Ollie moved to one of the kitchen cabinets. I watched as he filled the machine with water, dumped in some scoops of coffee, and turned it on.
The soft gurgle of the machine filled the air, and I took a deep breath.
