Page 112 of Charlie

"Yeah, it did!" I laugh, elbowing Lach.

"Come on," Lach says, guiding me to the path. "I have to go tell Pen she needs to find a new crew."

"What? Why?" I look back at the shack to see the guys gathering their gear and filing out of the house, following us.

"Did you see them?"

"Yes, they are four handsome men that seem extremely competent. Didn’t you want her to meet new people?" I ask, trying to keep up with him.

"Not four of them, Charlie."

"Don’t be a hypocrite."

The only response I get is an unintelligible grumble before he opens the door for the guys and me. Seconds after all six of us get settled in the booth, Pen comes out with a large porcelain dish holding a towering chocolate souffle. Her steps falter when she sees the full table, but the need to get the souffle to the table before it falls takes precedence. She carefully sets the souffle on the table's edge and pushes it into the center, blowing out a breath of relief when it doesn’t fall.

"Who are your friends?" She asks, studying the guys with interest.

I keep my mouth closed, waiting for someone to answer her, but there's only dead silence. I glance at Lach to find him openly contemplating each of them. They aren’t paying him any attention. Instead, they’re staring up at Pen with varying degrees of reverence and a strong underlying current of sexual tension. Color creeps up Pen's cheeks as the silence drags on.

"Pen, meet your new crew. Guys, this is Pen," I say in a rush, unable to take the silence any longer.

"Fuck," Paul Bunyan mutters.

"My crew?" Pen asks, panic flashing in her eyes. "I'm so confused."

"After orientation, the captain pointed us up to the old fishing shack," Paul explains, "When we got there, the bathroom was otherwise, um—" he clears his throat, "—occupied. Anyway, Lach invited us to come for a beer. And here we are."

"Here you are," Pen murmurs, her gaze roaming over the guys, then snapping back to Lach and I. "You did not," she says incredulously.

"Oh they did," says the guy who gave Lach the vibe back. "Loudly."

Oh my God. I start to slide under the table, but Lach hauls me back up. "We're in this together, Carebear. Don't you dare abandon me at a time like this."

Pen digs a spoon into the souffle rather violently, spooning portions onto dessert plates and passing them around. She spins on her heel and heads to the bar, returning with a tray filled with beer glasses. She motions for us to help ourselves, then takes the last one for herself.

"To love," she toasts, lifting her glass toward Lach and I, her movements stiff, "And to a killer scallop season," she finishes, clinking her glasses to each of the guys. She downs her entire beer in one go, slams the glass back on the tray and wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

"A killer scallop season?" Lach asks.

Pen leans over the table, her head between Lach and I so no one else can hear. "It seems like I may have girl-bossed a little too close to the sun this time. Pretty sure this crew will be the death of me," she mutters. "Okay! Who's ready for another?" she asks, straightening.

"I think it's time for Lach and I to go," I say, pulling Lach out of the booth. "Nice to meet you guys. Hopefully we'll see you around sometime," I call over my shoulder. I pull Pen into a tight hug, both of us making promises to get together soon, and then I'm pulling Lach away from the guys I'm pretty sure he's ready to murder.

"Give me one second," he says, disappearing into the kitchen. He returns thirty seconds later with a to-go bag hanging from his fingers.

We barely reach the boat before Lach wraps his arms around me. We're stumbling into walls as we rip at each other's clothes. We're both in our underwear by the time we make it to the bedroom. I notice the to-go bag still hanging from Lach's arm, looking at it suspiciously.

"You did not?—"

"Oh, I did." He grins, reaching in and pulling out an entire canister of whipped cream and a full bottle of chocolate sauce.

I reach for the chocolate sauce, but he pulls it out of reach. "I get to do what I want, remember?"

"You just railed me in a public bathroom with four men listening. I think it's my turn."

"Fuck. You have a point." He hands me the bottle, and we face off, waiting to see what the other will do. I rush him, tackling him to the bed before he can brace himself. I jerk down his boxers, lust blazing through me as I pull out his cock. I hold the bottle above him, but he grabs my wrist to stop me.

"Wait." He pushes himself up to the head of the bed, propping himself up with several pillows. "I want to watch," he says, holding my gaze, "I want to see your lips stretch around my cock... see the tears in your eyes when you struggle to take all of me... see my cum glistening on your lips."

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