Page 107 of Charlie

"Thank you, Lach." I press a kiss to his cheek and strip right in the middle of the room, using his shoulder to balance as I pull on the sweatpants, studiously ignoring what the vibe is doing to me. "It's perfect!" I turn in a circle in front of him. "What do you think?"

"Stunning," he says, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in for another kiss. When we finally break away from each other, we make our way to the deck. The boat is tied to an impressively large dock just outside a weathered, wood-planked building. Lach keeps me steady with a tight grip on my elbow as we walk down the gangway. I'm thankful for the support when my knees start wobbling with every step, my clit throbbing in time to my heartbeat. Every single time I move, the vibe press against my clit or my g-spot – even if I stay perfectly still, I can still feel it keeping me right on the cusp of a violent orgasm.

"How many people come here on boats this size that need a dock that big?" I ask.

"Me."

I gape at him. "You? You had this dock built?" He nods. "You like this place so much that you had a dock built so you could come whenever you wanted?" I ask incredulously, letting that information sink in, and finding I don't quite like the feeling of it.

"It's my sister's pub, Charlie."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I screech, too mortified about the situation to care that I sound like a banshee. "Your sister? I'm meeting your sister with a remote-control vibe shoved up my pussy?" I shove my palms against his chest, blood pulsing in my temples, my blood pressure sky high. "We're turning around right now and taking this out." I spin on my heel, dragging him with me.

Someone calls out his name and I turn to see a blonde woman striding down the dock toward us. Lach holds his arms out to her, pulling her into a tight hug, his features softening.

"Pen, this is my fiancée, Charlie. Charlie, this is my sister, Pen," Lach introduces us, beaming.

I reach out to shake her hand, but she grabs my left hand instead, "You did it, Lachie! I'm so proud of you!" She pulls me into a hug, squeezing me tight around the neck. "I can't believe I'm going to have a sister!"

"Nice to meet you, Pen," I laugh. She's beautiful: delicate pixie features and blonde hair that waterfalls in thick waves over her shoulders. She's wearing a fitted army green coverall, but she pulled the top half off and tied the arms around her waist, revealing a white tank top underneath.

"It's Penelope, but Jack started calling me Pen as a joke, and it stuck."

"What do you prefer?" I ask, struggling to keep pace as she pulls me by the hand toward to pub.

"Pen is fine. I'm used to it now. Is Charlie a nickname?"

"My given name is Charlotte, but my friends call me Charlie."

"Charlie it is," she says, winking. "Are you hungry? I put together a tasting menu when Lach told me you were on the way."

"You're the chef here?"

"Sometimes the chef, sometimes the bartender, sometimes a waitress. It just depends on the day."

"Jack of all trades?" I ask as we approach the building.

"You could say that," she says proudly. "I took out a loan from Lach several years ago and finished paying it off a couple of months ago. I could never have done it without his help."

"Anything to get you off that godforsaken boat," Lach mutters.

"I used to dive for scallops," she explains, "I still go out in the crew now and then – that's why I thought the pub was a good idea. We had to ferry the scallops over to the mainland every day. Now we serve them here. Plus a lot of other local seafood. Even lamb that's raised here on the island."

"That's amazing, Pen. What an incredible accomplishment."

"Thank you," she grins, her blue eyes lighting up. "Come on." She holds the door open and then motions for us to sit in a large corner booth. "I'll be back with the food," she says before disappearing through the door that I assume leads to the kitchen.

"She's amazing, Lach."

"Isn't she? I'm so proud of everything she has accomplished so far. She's really carved a spot for herself here." He reaches across the table and grabs my hands, the callouses on his palms sending a thrill of lust zinging straight to my core.

"Now I understand why you had the dock built," I say begrudgingly. I start to cross my legs but quickly realize I can't do that without putting myself in an impossible situation. Fuck.

"How are you feeling?" Lach asks, his lips pursed, trying to hold in a laugh.

"Fine, thank you." I take a giant gulp of the beer in front of me. "What kind of beer is this? I don’t usually find ones I like, but this one’s amazing!"

"Pen has a brewery in the back. She started it last year."

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