Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

N INE DAYS .

That wasn't written down anywhere, and Cal hadn't actually looked at a calendar, but he knew his leave was ticking away. Literally. The first three weeks of it had gone by in a blur. Well, except for the kissing he'd done with Charlotte.

Definitely no blurs there.

Those memories were right there in the front of his mind and were encouraging other parts of him to go back to her for more. More would no doubt be sex, and that was the reason Cal was trying his level best to throttle back. Three weeks wasn't nearly enough time for her to get past whatever she was feeling or had felt for Noah.

Was it?

Those memories and the mindless part of him behind the zipper of his jeans assured him that it was. That Charlotte hadn't loved Noah in a long, long time. That their relationship had technically been over long before Cal had shown up with the Dear John official breakup. Still, it'd been three weeks.

Three long weeks where Charlotte's life had changed. Where she'd started her dream of Port in a Storm. Where Izzie and Taggert were no longer getting married, which meant there was no dream double wedding on the horizon. When Cal laid it all out there like that, it seemed like these three weeks had been in doggy time and had stretched out into months.

Of course, that rationalization only gave his mouth and dick encouragement he didn't want them to have, so Cal tried to push it all away, dry off from his shower and get dressed. By now, he had enough splattered jeans and shirts, but he went with something paintfree, and he didn't even try to pretend it wasn't because he wanted to make a good impression.

Because he did.

And because Harper would be arriving at Port in a Storm today, and according to Dr. Kentrell, she was ready to face him down. Whatever that meant, Cal was more than ready for it. Or rather he was just anxious to get the meeting out of the way.

Harper likely wouldn't be impressed by clean clothes, but Cal thought they might at least make him feel less grubby. That might help with his overall mood. Might. It seemed a lot of pressure to put on fresh laundry.

Dr. Kentrell had been the one to suggest that Cal go ahead and visit Harper as soon as she arrived. The therapist had thought it would be good for Harper to have that initial contact so she could understand right from the start that this wouldn't be just a single meeting, that she might end up seeing Cal and other people she knew on a regular basis. If Harper couldn't cope with that, then it was best for them to know up front. And if she couldn't cope, then they would need to come up with strategies to temporarily minimize her contact with him and move her to yet another facility.

Charlotte had already offered Cal an out by letting him know that she didn't expect him to visit Harper. That she knew how hard such a visit would be on him. But Cal had no intention of taking Charlotte up on that out. He needed to at least try to see Harper, to let her know that he would help her in any way. If she wanted his help, that is.

And, yes, it would be hard.

Not just for him but for Harper and Charlotte, too. Cal suspected they were all in for a high-stress kind of day.

He finished dressing and walked out of his room, nearly smacking into Blue, who seemed to be pacing outside his door. "Were you waiting for me?" Cal asked at the same time Blue said, "I wasn't sure you were alone. Is Charlotte in there?"

Cal sighed. He wasn't a fool, not generally anyway, so he figured that gossip about him and Charlotte would get around. No way to stop that. But if Blue thought there was a possibility that Charlotte was in his bedroom, then his brother obviously thought the relationship had escalated.

Which it had.

It just hadn't gotten to the bedroom-overnight stage.

"Charlotte's not here," Cal assured him. "What's wrong?"

"Dad got a PI to do a full background check on Rowan," Blue provided.

Cal shook his head and swore under his breath. "Please don't tell me Dad's tried to contact him." Because Cal figured the contact should come from Rowan, not the other way around.

"Not that I know of, not yet anyway. But I don't know what's in the report, and Dad's not sharing. I just thought we should keep an eye on him in case something he learns about Rowan hits him hard."

Cal frowned. "Like what?"

"Like maybe Rowan never wants anything to do with any of us. Especially with Dad and Audrey. I'm not sure he could handle that right now."

Cal had to agree. Two serious heart attacks, a marriage on the rocks and learning he had a son he'd never met. News that the son never wanted to see him might trigger both medical and psychological problems, and his dad sure as hell didn't need any more trouble than he already had.

"I'll keep an eye on him," Cal promised. "And I'll try to talk to him about it. Maybe see if I can get him to stop digging into Rowan." Though the lack of digging likely wouldn't stop his dad's need to know anything and everything about his son.

"Good. Maybe talk to Audrey, too. I've already done both. So has Egan. But maybe if they hear it from all three of us, it'll sink in that they're not doing themselves any favors by pushing these particular buttons right now."

Of course Egan and Blue had already had those conversations with their dad and Audrey, and they would have probably asked Cal to intercede a whole lot sooner had he not been going through his own crap.

Cal gave his brother another assurance he'd help, said his goodbye and headed down the stairs and onto the side porch that was closest to where he'd parked his truck. Again he nearly smacked right into somebody. Or rather two somebodies.

His dad and Noah were on the porch, and judging from their expressions they'd been having a deep conversation. Cal didn't have to guess what they'd talked about. Nope. Charlotte and he were a solid bet.

"Everything okay?" Cal automatically asked, which was a dumb question since it was obvious that both men had more than their share of problems.

"Your dad was just telling me that you're planning on getting out of the Air Force," Noah threw out there. "Why the hell would you do something like that?"

Cal just gave him a flat stare and waited for Noah to recall what'd happened to Harper.

"That's why you're getting out?" Noah demanded, and it sounded like the tone of a current, worried friend rather than a former friend who might hope that Cal would dissolve into a puddle of goo. "How will you getting out fix Harper?" But he didn't wait for Cal to respond. "It won't, that's how."

"No, but it might fix me," Cal said.

That had Noah's shoulders snapping back, and Cal saw the surprise morph to something else: disgust. "You'll be around to pursue Charlotte after my leave is up, and I have to return to duty."

Cal was certain there was some disgust on his own face. "Pursue? No. Just no. If she wants to see me, however, I won't stop her."

Well, probably not. Cal doubted he could work up enough resolve if Charlotte did end up wanting to go through with a relationship. That said, she might be working up enough of her own resolve to stop it in its tracks.

Noah bit off a string of swear words, probably because of the dirty look he got from Cal's father. Everyone who knew Derek knew he wasn't a fan of cursing.

"Sorry," Noah grumbled. "I should be going, anyway."

"Don't you first want to tell me why you came?" Cal asked. "Because I figure you're here to see me and not my dad."

Noah locked eyes with him. "No, I came to see you. I wanted to ask you to back off seeing Charlotte to give her time to make up her mind about whether or not she wants to get back with me."

As far as Cal was concerned, Charlotte had made that clear. There'd be no reconciliation. And considering the way she'd kissed him, Cal believed her. Heck, maybe Noah believed her, too, but he might not be able to fully grasp yet that he'd lost her.

Cal's phone dinged, and he saw the message from Charlotte. Noah must have seen her name, too, because he said something that got another dirty look from Derek. Then Noah headed off the porch toward his truck.

Just an FYI , Charlotte had messaged. Dr. Kentrell has arrived with Harper.

So it'd happened. Cal had thought that maybe at the last minute Harper would refuse to come to Port in a Storm. Apparently not.

"You think we can talk later?" Cal asked his dad.

His dad gave him a flat look similar to the one that Cal had given Noah just minutes earlier. "Blue told you about the PI report on my son."

"He did," Cal verified.

"And you think I should back off and wait for my son to contact me." There was plenty of surliness in his dad's tone, but then he sighed and dropped it down a couple of notches. "I'm tired of waiting. It helps to find out everything I can about him. It's like actually getting to know him."

Cal couldn't quite wrap his head around that, but then he wasn't in his father's shoes. And that's why he, too, dialed down his concern. "Just don't try to contact him," Cal urged. "That might put him off if he's still trying to make up his mind about talking to us."

His dad shook his head, not in disagreement but rather frustration. Cal could tell he saw the logic in waiting. "All right," his father finally said. "Now, you go ahead to Charlotte." He paused a beat. "What's going on between you two, anyway? Did the fake stuff turn into something not so fake?"

"It's not fake," Cal could say with certainty.

But as for what was going on, that was still in the to-be-determined category. Maybe a fling. Maybe just a temporary attraction. Maybe that dreaded rebound reaction on Charlotte's part.

And maybe something much more serious that could stir up things six ways to Sunday.

He told his dad goodbye and went to his truck to start the drive to Charlotte's. Thankfully, it was short so he didn't have the time to delve into a whole bunch of bad what-if scenarios. A few still sped through his head, though. It was possible that Harper would pitch a fit when she saw him. The only contact he'd had with her had been that just give the hell up text.

As usual, there were a lot of other vehicles at the ranch. The tasks of the day seemed to be painting the exteriors of the house and barn while the landscape crews were tackling the yards and trails. He spotted Becker in his wheelchair seemingly testing out one of those trails while Jack trotted along behind him.

Cal also spotted the medical-transport van in the mix of the other vehicles. It appeared to be empty, and neither Harper nor Dr. Kentrell were anywhere in sight. Gathering his breath and trying to tamp down his nerves, Cal went inside the house and didn't have to look long before he found them. They were in the downstairs suite that Charlotte had set up for Harper. Someone had already brought in Harper's suitcases, and there was a woman in purple scrubs placing some bottles of medication on the nightstand next to the bed.

All of the women shifted their attention to him, but the one in purple—probably the home health worker—quickly returned to her duties. The other three, however, pinned him with their gazes. There was concern in Charlotte's eyes. A breath-held look in the doctor's. And Harper, well, she was more in look-what-the-cat-dragged-in mode.

He'd tried to steel himself for what he might see, but there wasn't enough mettle in the universe for this. For just an instant, he got a flash of the last time he'd seen Harper. About three months ago after a NATO flying competition that he'd won. Harper hadn't been all smiles about losing, but she had posed for photos with him. She'd been healthy, strong and fierce.

Nothing like she was now.

His first thought was that she looked like a survivor of a nearly fatal car crash. Which she was. A crash that had clearly taken its toll. Her head had been shaved, no doubt to perform the surgery that had left a scar that was nowhere close to being healed. It was still angry-looking and red, and her hair hadn't grown back in enough to cover it.

There were yet other scars on her throat and her hands from what appeared to be multiple surgeries, and her right leg was in some kind of brace. Since she had no scrapes or bruises that he could see, Cal supposed those had healed by now, but there was also very little color in her face, and she was thin. Way too thin. He was guessing that she had lost at least twenty-five pounds, which meant she no longer had that athletic build.

She didn't attempt to speak. No surprise there since he'd already known her vocal cords were damaged. However, she could certainly see, because she was giving him one hard look. She was able to move, too, because she used her stiff and crooked right index finger to turn her motorized wheelchair in his direction. It was similar to Becker's, but this one had a small tablet anchored onto the left arm of the chair. The right arm had the controls.

"Harper," he managed to say despite the fact that his throat had clamped shut. "It's good to see you."

She could apparently react, too, because the corner of her mouth lifted in a purely sarcastic "Yeah, right" smile. Cal didn't let that pass.

"It is good to see you," he reiterated. "I'm glad you're alive, and I'm very sorry this happened."

He figured that would earn him another snarl or hard look. It didn't. Harper continued to stare at him for several seconds and then she typed out something on the tablet. The device was obviously set to convert text to speech because the computerlike voice said what she'd typed.

"Halo."

Just that, just his call sign. Cal thought it was probably a dig on his heavenly reputation, but she could have chosen a whole lot worse to address him.

Harper didn't add more. Well, not words. She pressed something on the tablet and music blared out. NSYNC's "Bye Bye Bye."

"That's a little loud, Harper," the doctor commented, and judging from her frustrated sigh, this wasn't the first time she'd dealt with something like this. "Harper downloaded some songs that she uses instead of responses. ‘Bye Bye Bye' is one of her favorites, along with ‘Blah Blah Blah' and ‘Take This Job and Shove It.'"

Harper turned her wheelchair back toward Charlotte and the doctor, and she typed something else that the computer read aloud. "I have eclectic taste that gets the message across." She finished that by hitting "Bye Bye Bye" again.

The doctor glanced around as if she might be looking for some reason to stay. Harper put a stop to that by wheeling farther into the room and making a shooing motion for them to leave. They did. All three walked out and then just lingered there in the hall.

"Sonora's there if Harper needs anything," Charlotte said as if to reassure the doctor and herself.

"Yes. Sonora's résumé and job experience are amazing," the doctor finally said, and she looked at Cal to fill him in. "Sonora Billings, the LVN who'll be looking after Harper and some of the other residents. Charlotte not only hired her but also offered her one of the rooms on the third floor so that Sonora won't have to drive back and forth to San Antonio."

Charlotte picked up the explanation from there. "Sonora will stay a week, and then another LVN will come in and take her place. They'll trade off like that as long as necessary. Added to that, a counselor will come in twice a week, and Harper will get PT every other day."

Charlotte gave him a wary glance as if trying to figure out if he was okay with all of this. With Harper being here. And with him seeing her.

Dr. Kentrell was doing some wary glancing, too, at the door. "By the way, Harper can walk. Not easily, but she's mobile when she wants to be. She'd be a lot more mobile if she'd done the exercises the physical therapist prescribed."

Cal had to shake his head. "Does it hurt her to walk? Is that why she uses the chair?"

"She still has pain, but she has some limited mobility. It's easier for her to use her voice tablet from the chair than it is when she's standing or attempting to walk. I also want her to work on that during her physical therapy." She gathered her breath. "I can't promise you Harper won't lash out and then demand to leave. If she does, call me, and I'll see what I can do to help. I just hope she gives this place a chance," she added with concern.

"And so say all of us," Charlotte replied.

The doctor left, but Charlotte and Cal stayed put. Maybe because they were both expecting the door to fly open with the lashing out that Kentrell had suggested might happen. But there were no sounds of outburst, no computer-voice gripes that Harper had typed out. Just silence, and after a few moments, Sonora came out.

"Harper wants a nap so I helped her into bed," the worker said, and she held up the monitor she was holding. "I'll keep an eye on her while I maybe fix her a snack plate that'll be by her bedside when she wakes up. You said it was okay if I used the kitchen?" she said to Charlotte.

"More than okay," Charlotte assured her. "Use whatever part of the house that isn't being painted or repaired. If you need something you can't find, and I'm not around, you've got my number so just give me a call."

Sonora headed to the kitchen, and Charlotte and Cal walked back toward the front of the house where he was certain Charlotte would be questioning him about how he was doing. But the queries would apparently have to be put on hold when they saw the man standing in the foyer.

Paul.

Cal didn't groan, but Charlotte wasn't quite able to suppress all of hers. The sound spluttered out before she tried to cover it with a greeting. "Mr. Johansen. How are you?"

Paul must have decided to skip the small talk. "Gossip is that my daughter is here."

Charlotte didn't jump to answer that.

"You can tell me if she is," Paul insisted. "She put my name on her medical forms so I could be told about what's going on with her."

Cal glanced at Charlotte to see if she had any idea if that was true. Evidently it was, because Charlotte nodded. And Cal wondered if that kind of consent had been voluntary on Harper's part or if Paul had pressured her into it.

"Harper's here," Charlotte said, but she stepped in front of Paul when he started to move, presumably to head down the hall. "But she's sleeping. It's been an exhausting day for her, as I'm sure you can understand."

Judging from the way Paul's jaw set, he wasn't as understanding as Charlotte hoped. "How'd she take coming here?" he finally asked.

"Everything's going well enough," Charlotte said, and Cal knew she'd carefully chosen her words.

Paul made a snorting sound to indicate he wasn't quite buying that. "Hard to believe, especially if she saw Cal. Seeing him would set her off because she blames him for everything. I told her if she wants somebody to blame, all she's gotta do is look straight in the mirror." He stopped, shook his head. "Stupid. She threw it all away because she couldn't handle a little competition."

Cal's first instinct was to punch the man. Not the way to go, though, since a fistfight wouldn't help Harper. So he tried something more diplomatic.

"Harper will get the help she needs here," he said.

"What she needs is her head examined," Paul grumbled. "Is she getting that?" He waved that off, indicating he didn't care for a response. His gaze came back to Cal. "Your daddy's ticker might be bad these days, but he raised his kids all with spines. He didn't raise losers."

Charlotte perhaps anticipated Cal's desire to use his fist, because she stepped in between Paul and him. "Harper's not a loser. She just needs to find her way again, and we can all help with that. With therapy, yes, and by giving her a quiet, nurturing place to heal. Quiet and nurturing," she emphasized in a tone that managed to sound cheerful instead of insulting.

Paul must not have known how to respond to that, because he stared at her for a while and then checked his watch. "So does this place have visiting hours or something?"

"Yes," she was quick to say, though she'd never mentioned a word about such things before. "I'll be asking visitors to come early afternoons, provided the clients don't have already-scheduled appointments." She groaned, but it sounded darn fake to Cal. "Which Harper does. She'll have PT this afternoon. I suspect she'll be very sore and tired afterward, so maybe it's best if you come back tomorrow or later in the week."

That added more tightness to Paul's jaw. "Tomorrow. I'll be back at one, so make sure my daughter doesn't have any other scheduled appointments." He spoke those last two words as if they were a waste of time.

In his mind, they probably were.

He seemed to have already written off Harper, and that made Cal wonder why Paul even wanted to see her. Was it because he loved her but wasn't able to express that? Or was this more about wanting to have some control over her? Cal hoped it was option number one, but he was betting it was the second. If so, he wanted to be in the vicinity in case Paul's visit turned ugly.

"So," Charlotte said, looking at him, "would a good, long French kiss level you out and make you feel better?"

Cal certainly hadn't been prepared for that offer. He'd thought she would go with a simple I'm sorry or maybe some other soothing words. He hadn't expected her to jump to kissing.

Of course he was interested in that. And it would indeed make him feel better. Or at least it'd get his mind off his troubles for a while.

"You're going to turn me down," she said, probably interpreting his expression. "You're worried about me, about how I could be led on by kissing. Because you're not in a place to be able to commit to anything."

True. So very true. But Cal didn't get a chance to voice that.

"You could also be troubled about your visit with Noah," she went on, taking him by the hand and leading him up the stairs. "How did I know about the visit, you ask? Well, the gossip mill is on speed dial. One of your ranch hands who's prepping the space for the rescue horses saw Noah arrive at Saddlebrook as he was heading out. He figured Noah was there to have it out with you." She put that last part in air quotes. "And the hand mentioned that to one of the painters, who then in turn mentioned it to me."

She looked back over her shoulder and was clearly waiting for an answer as to how the meeting had played out.

"Noah didn't have it out with me," Cal assured her. "In fact, we didn't have much to say to each other."

Charlotte sighed. "And that hurts. Believe me, I know. I don't miss Noah as a part-time, off-and-on boyfriend. But I miss the friend part. Those times when we used to be able to talk about anything. That's gone forever."

Yes, it was, and Cal missed that as well. Maybe years down the road all of this would be water under the bridge, but it was much too recent for things to be dismissed.

"Noah hasn't given up on getting you back," Cal went on as they walked. And, yeah, despite this conversation about nonkissing, nonsex things, his body was already starting to rev up.

"And I haven't given up on making him give up," she was quick to say. "No way, no how, am I getting back together with him." Still no trace of a rebound.

But was he being foolish to think it wasn't there?

Probably, but the thought of kissing Charlotte was once again overshadowing common sense.

"Oh, and Alden gets here tomorrow," Charlotte said, and this time there was some genuine glee in her tone. "Of course, that means Noah will visit him. I'll deal with that, though. I'm hoping that Noah does the noble thing and doesn't try to use his visits with his brother to wheedle some time with me."

Cal figured Noah wouldn't be able to stop himself from doing just that. Desperate people did desperate things, and there was no mistaking that his former best friend was in that particular mindset.

They kept walking up the stairs, and the moment they reached her room, she pulled him inside. Then she pulled him into the kiss she'd promised. It was indeed French. It was long. It was good. So good that it pushed aside some of the stuff he was feeling. So long that all of the crap feelings vanished, and the only thing he could think about and feel was Charlotte. The only thing he wanted was her.

That's why he cursed when she abruptly backed away.

Her breath was heaving, and she was clearly aroused. Clearly. But she held up her hands in a "stay put" gesture when he moved in for more.

"I want you to imagine me kissing you again. Really kissing, I mean. The kind you feel all the way to your toes."

"I was feeling that last one in my toes." That was the truth. But he was feeling it more in other parts of him. Specifically, one part. "Why do I have to imagine the next one instead of it being the real deal?"

"Because we're alone in my room with tensions running high. We're very attracted to each other. Very," she emphasized. "And that means another kiss will quickly escalate to the point where we end up naked and having sex."

Yeah, his body was interested, all right. "I see absolutely nothing wrong with that." Of course, that was the lust talking. There were probably plenty of things wrong with it, but at the moment he couldn't think of any.

"Getting naked and having sex is a problem," she went on. "Well, it is unless you tell me you have a condom with you."

Oh, this was going to hurt to say this. "I don't."

She nodded. "And I didn't think of it until we were already on our way up here. If I had, I might have suggested kissing in the foyer. That would have tamped down the escalation."

"Maybe," he admitted. "Or we might have just ducked into a nearby closet."

She laughed as Cal had hoped she would. He needed the laughter to try to cool down some of the heat in his body. A heat that was quickly turning into a throbbing ache. Man, when had he started needing Charlotte this much?

The answer was, apparently, right now .

"I don't have a condom, either," she said, "and since we don't have an unplanned pregnancy on our bucket lists, then we'd better do this the safe way. Certainly you have a sex bucket list."

Cal shook his head. He didn't, but with Charlotte so close, he thought it might be time to come up with one that included her.

"I'm a guy," he finally said. "The sex itself is the bucket list."

Her smile took on a naughty, heated edge. "All right. Then I'll tell you mine. Sex on the hood of a car at night in the rain with no one else around. I saw that in a movie once."

That gave him an instant hard-on. Instant. Even though that had nowhere near been in his notion of a fantasy. Or at least it hadn't been until Charlotte had brought it up. Now it seemed like an amazing, stellar idea.

"Can you imagine that?" she continued, and she moved farther away from him to sit on the sill of the window. Facing him with her back pressed against the glass.

She certainly made a picture there with the sunlight streaming through the window. Like him, she hadn't settled for paint-splattered clothing today but instead was wearing jeans and a top that was the same color blue as her eyes. He'd always known that Charlotte was beautiful, but he'd never allowed himself to dwell on that.

He did now, however.

Along with dwelling on that fantasy of hers. The rain, the hood of a car, the night. Just the two of them.

"Of course, we'd kiss before the sex," she said. "You probably don't have to think too hard to imagine that, since we just did that."

Cal made a sound of agreement, kept his eyes on her. Yes, that memory was indeed very fresh.

"The kissing would quickly get out of hand," Charlotte continued, "because, hey, lots of pent-up lust here. Then the touching would begin. Oh, so very much touching. I'm thinking I'd love to get my hands on your abs. And your butt. You've got an amazing butt, Cal."

That made him laugh, but there were some strained nerves behind it. This was sweet torture, and he made a mental note to buy condoms. Lots and lots of them.

"So I'd squeeze your butt cheeks and dally with your abs," she said, the heat rising in her voice.

"Dally?" he questioned.

"That's the only way to deal with your abs. Light touches, fingertips barely trailing over them, brushing against every inch of them." Her gaze dropped to the front of his jeans. "You never know where dallying will lead you."

Hell. That notched things up even more. "And what about me? Do I get to touch you?"

"Oh, I certainly hope so," she was quick to say. She touched her right breast and circled her nipple with her finger. It was erotic as hell, and he had no trouble imagining himself touching her there. Or imagining her stark naked, either.

And that's why he was staying put.

He cursed the condom-makers for not having products that could be delivered with the snap of a finger.

"But I have one very sensitive spot that I want you to imagine touching," Charlotte murmured.

Cal glanced between her legs, causing her to laugh.

"Yes, that is indeed sensitive, but we're still doing foreplay so I was thinking here." She touched the inside of her thigh. So very close to the center of all that heat. "There's a little spot that'd enjoy a kiss or two."

He groaned because he ached to kiss her there. To kiss her everywhere.

"With or without your panties on?" he asked.

"On, for starters, but then that would really skyrocket the foreplay and send us into now, now, now. Want to know what happens when we're in that mode?"

"Sex," he was quick to say.

She nodded, smiled. "Got it in one. First, though, there'd be clothing removal. Not pretty, either. This wouldn't be a slow striptease to finish awakening every nerve in our bodies, because all those little suckers would already be awake and revved."

Hell. Now he wanted her to do a striptease for him. But she was right. That first time would be a frantic race to find first the pleasure, then the release.

"So clothes come off, all willy-nilly. It goes with the dallying," she added when he raised an eyebrow. "And since we're outdoors on the hood of that car, my bare butt would be on the hood, and you'd be standing between my legs."

She stopped, frowned. Eyed him from head to toe.

"Would that work?" she asked. "I mean, would the height be right?"

"We'd make it right," he assured her.

Charlotte smiled again. "Yes, we would. And since this is a fantasy, everything is perfect. No bugs. No lightning. Just a gentle, warm rain sliding down our bodies while you put on a condom. We couldn't forget that. And you'd push into me."

He felt it. Damn it, he felt it. And he wanted it more than air, more than common sense. More than a condom, which wasn't exactly a safe thought to have.

"Lots of thrusting would happen next," Charlotte spelled out. "I'm in favor of the hard and deep ones that are just on the edge of being out of control. How about it? Would that work for you?"

Since he wasn't sure he could speak, Cal just nodded. He was reasonably sure that any form of thrust would work with Charlotte.

"Good. So, hard, deep and frantic. Lots of need. Oh, so much need. And pleasure. Let's not forget that. It's all about the pleasure, pushing us. Driving us to find just the right spots to make the world explode." She paused, leveling her gaze on him. "You'd find the right spot," she said with absolute confidence.

"I would." Cal's confidence matched hers.

She smiled again, and every bit of it was naughty, bordering on raunchy. "I'd find your spot, too, which wouldn't exactly be difficult because yours is a lot bigger than mine. A lot bigger," she murmured, her gaze sliding over his erection again. "So, more thrusts. Maybe some whispered nonsense, because the only thing that would make sense right then would be finishing it. Finding that click." She snapped her fingers. "Getting to that moment when the now, now, now is the yes, yes, yes...yes!"

Charlotte stopped again. Smiled again. And locked gazes with him. "Was it good for you, Cal?"

He smiled. Really smiled. Because it was.