Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Bess

L ater that night, I lay in bed, listening to his breathing. When I finally convinced myself he was asleep, I reached into my bag and grabbed the vibrator. It was fairly quiet, but I still hid under every bit of blanket I could find, hoping he wouldn’t wake up to the sound. I kept the toy at the lowest setting and slid it where I needed it, rocking against the buzzing piece of silicone. It wasn’t the fanciest model, but it would have to do.

The vibration worked its magic. My mind returned to our kiss in the hot tub, and it didn’t take me long to reach the tipping point — the moment reality faded to the corners of my mind. The sweet laps of pleasure turned into waves, building up. It was hot under the blankets, but I didn’t mind. I felt safe, hiding from the world, letting myself feel everything I couldn’t with him.

Charlie fucking Wilde. I hated him. I wanted him. I couldn’t have him. My hips undulated without conscious thought, working against the hot pink wand and its little suction head. I was close, teetering right at the edge. I heard a soft moan and realized it was coming from me. Was I making noise?

He’s asleep, I told myself, peeling off the blankets to come up for air. To my horror, I could still hear the buzzing of the vibrator, even through the layers of blanket. In the absolute silence of the cabin, the sound seemed to reverberate and echo off the high ceiling. I listened for any other sounds; any indication Charlie might have been awake. But before I noticed anything else, I heard the most horrifying sound of all. Silence. The battery had died.

When had I even last used the thing? When had I charged it? I couldn’t remember, which explained a lot. I threw myself back against the pillow, panting. My entire body throbbed with frustration.

“Can I help?”

His gravelly voice shot through me like lightning. I sat up, clutching the covers.

He stood at the top of the stairs, leaning on the banister.

“Charlie.” I was still panting. “What are you doing here?”

“Missing out.”

“But we decided…”

“Yeah. I was thinking this could also be something that never happened. In case you need a hand or?—”

My body screamed yes while my brain chased its tail, unable to form a coherent thought. “You heard me,” I said dumbly.

“Only because I was listening. Intently.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “We don’t have to do anything, but this is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. Ever. So please, continue.”

“I ran out of battery,” I said, finally closing my dry mouth. “So the show’s over, I guess.”

I felt grateful for the darkness that concealed my face, but I couldn’t stop the flush of embarrassment that engulfed me. He’d heard me. He’d listened to me pleasure myself. It was almost too much to process, yet my body throbbed, disappointed. Unsatisfied. Asking for more.

“Oh, no. So, you do need a hand.” He lay down next to me, peeling off the blankets until his fingers grazed my belly. Warm fingers that woke up every nerve on my skin.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice so throaty I hardly recognized it as my own.

“I’m not battery-operated, but I do a pretty good job, I promise.”

I pulled the covers to my chin, wishing I could disappear. But my body was at odds with my embarrassed mind, refusing to push his hand away.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

“No,” I choked out. “But I can’t ask you to...”

His fingers slid a little lower, touching the edge of my panties. “Why not? You do things for me all the time.” I heard the smile in his voice, but also thickness, like his throat was as sticky as mine.

“This is not some office errand, Charlie.”

“No. Because I don’t think you’ve ever enjoyed the errands you run for me like I’d enjoy this.”

He sounded out of breath, his voice thick with need, which relaxed me a little. “Come on, Bess. Let me help.”

He dragged his fingers along the edge of my panties, and I shivered from head to toe. When did I ever really enjoy myself? Could I let him do this for me? I wanted to touch him, to confirm he really was into this, that I wasn’t imagining things. But that’s when he shifted closer, and I felt his erection against my hip. A sudden, hard poke that awakened a whole new craving. I wanted him. I needed him. Charlie held still, waiting for my final answer.

I ran my hand down his chest. “So, this never happened?”

“I’m not even here.” He pulled back before I reached his crotch but his fingers traced a fiery trail down my stomach, slipping under my panties, reaching the wetness between my legs. He groaned. “Oh, my God, Bess.”

He touched me lightly, circling and teasing. But I was too far gone and bucked against his hand, desperate for friction. For a moment, he held back, then matched his movement to mine, stroking my achingly swollen clit. I was no longer holding back my moans. All I could think about was that sensation, rolling and quaking through me, building up until the waves no longer crashed ashore. They drowned me. I came against his hand, letting out a strange, choked cry. The waves of pleasure carried me, taking their time, relaxing every muscle.

As the sweet throbbing gradually settled, I risked a glance at him. “Oh, God. I needed that.”

“Me too,” he rasped. “Thank you for letting me… not be here.”

I sighed. How could I pretend that never happened? “Your turn,” I said, again reaching for him under the covers. It was only fair.

But he pulled away, leaving my hand grasping for air.