Page 192 of Charlie

"I like you like this," he mumbles, his lips moving against my skin.

"Like what?"

"Freshly fucked. Soft. Carefree."

"I like me like this too," I chuckle, nipping at his earlobe.

"Whose cum is dripping down your thighs, Charlotte?" His voice is rough, every word coated in desire.

"Lach's," I whisper, gasping as he drags his hands down my body.

"I want to see." He lifts me off the stump with one arm, pulling his t-shirt from his pocket and laying it over the rough wood before my ass makes contact. He drops to the ground in front of me, hands rough as he pushes my knees wide. "Fuck," he growls, his jaw ticking. The button on his pants is undone before I can blink, and he's pulling out his thick cock. He slides his fingers up my thighs and then wipes them on his cock, hips flexing as he fucks himself.

God, that's hot. I whimper, my pussy throbbing.

He wrenches my panties apart, his eyes darkening when he sees his best friend's cum coating me.

"Fuck, Charlotte," he groans. I shiver as he dips his tongue into me, his eyes fluttering closed at the first taste. "The taste of both of you together is the best fucking thing I've ever had in my mouth," he rasps, his breath stuttering. He licks me clean, sucking my clit into his mouth in one hard pull before sitting back on his heels, breathing hard. "Not yet," he says in answer to my mewl of protest. "I have something to show you." He pulls his pants up, holding a hand out to me and helping me to my feet.

"Look what I found." A wood-fired jacuzzi tub and a small cylindrical sauna sit tucked into a stand of pines. The chimney of the jacuzzi is already chugging out smoke, a small pile of wood standing at the ready next to it. I practically melt off the stump in anticipation, my muscles desperate for relief after last night. And this morning. And the last three months, if I'm being honest.

Jack helps me with my tank top, and I peel off his pants and boxers.

"Charlie!" Cam's melodic voice floats down to us in the breeze. "Text me the recipe and we'll run to the store for the ingredients!"

"Okay! Give me one second!" I call back up. "Can I borrow your phone?" I ask, turning back to Jack.

"Get in. We'll pick something out together." He helps me up the steps and into the steaming water, sinking in behind me with a groan. "Fuck this is nice. I know what I'm buying the second we're back home."

I settle between his legs, staring up at the trees towering above us. Perfect solitude with the perfect man. I'm in heaven.

"What's your favorite thing to cook?" he asks, lightly massaging my shoulders.

"What's your favorite thing to eat?" I counter, groaning when he focuses in on a knot. "If I'm cooking, I want to make sure it's worth the effort."

"You're my favorite thing to eat, Sassenach."

A spike of desire streaks down my spine as his words come to life in my mind. The scratch of his beard on my thighs, his tongue sliding through my folds?—

"Concentrate, mo chridhe," he chuckles, sweeping my hair over one shoulder and pressing a kiss to my neck.

"What's your favorite thing to eat other than my pussy?" I ask, looking over my shoulder at him.

"You're not going to like the answer to that, either," he says, giving my ass a squeeze.

"Jack!"

He laughs, drawing me closer, forcing me to relax into him. I don't need encouragement.

"A good stew with fresh bread is probably my favorite thing," he says, finally giving a serious answer.

"What about Cam and Lach?"

"Neither of them would turn that down."

"Will you hand me your phone? I'll look up a recipe."

"You don't need a recipe, Charlotte. If you'll let me, I'll teach you how my mom used to make it. How she taught me to make it."

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