Chapter 8

Charlotte spent the day in a state of fugue. Not because she’d not slept well—she’d surprisingly fallen off quickly and deeply. The comfortable bed was only part of the reason. The bigger part? Ares, who had a way of making her feel protected and important. Add in the acceptance by his family and her sense of security only increased.

Seeing Greta in her glory—being the center of attention and basking in the happy vibe emitted by everyone—also helped. It had always bothered Charlotte to see the close bonds other kids got to enjoy: the pictures of family dinners and holidays, the grandparents who spent time with the young ones, building memories. Poor Greta had no one but Charlotte. No grandparents to spoil her, nor aunts or uncles, which meant no cousins, either. Barry might have been able to give her some extended family, only he chose abandonment. She’d always found his actions odd considering he was a man who boasted about how close he was to his brothers, not all of them blood.

Then again, knowing what she did now, it was probably for the best Greta never got to know that violent crew.

Ares couldn’t have been more different. Self-assured without crossing into arrogant. Generous, giving of himself and expecting nothing in return. Genuinely good-natured. Close to his mom and sisters. Honest in how he felt.

All things that made him sound weak, and yet, he oozed strength, and when he strutted, she practically needed a fan to cool down.

As if he weren’t already too good to be true, he and Greta had formed a bond. From the moment he’d killed that bug in her kitchen, her daughter had chosen him to be her hero, and he had yet to disappoint. He didn’t ignore Greta when she spoke. He didn’t roll his eyes when she wanted to re-read a story or sang the same song a dozen times in a row. He showed patience, explained things to her. Essentially acted like a dad.

Seeing them together, Charlotte melted. This was the family life she’d always wanted, so why did it terrify her?

Because the last time she thought she’d found “the one,” he turned out to be a stranger. The act he’d won her over with, just that: a charade. The real Barry turned out to be an asshole. After Greta’s birth, the change had been most startling, from loving partner to verbally abusive and rude. “Jeezus, cover up. I can’t believe how much you let yourself go.” She was two weeks postpartum at the time. Months later, she still carried a few pounds, and when she tried to initiate intimacy, he’d recoiled with disgust. “You can’t seriously expect me to get it up with you looking like that. ” Still, she’d stayed, hoping for the man she’d fallen in love with to return.

She waited in vain for things to get better, but they got worse. He started going out every night after work. When she’d dared to question his frequent outings, he barked, “I’ll be back when I feel like it. Don’t like it? Too bad.”

But the worst had been his accusations. “Whose kid is she?”

Her reply of “Yours,” led to , “Like fuck she is. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” It didn’t matter what Charlotte said.

“I swear, she’s yours. You’re the only man I’ve been with.”

“Lying whore,” was only one of the nasty names he used.

She’d literally only ever been with two men in her life. One in high school and Barry in college. Barry had mentally beaten her down, destroyed her confidence, and made her so suspicious of men she’d chosen to not date. Am I too fat? Am I that unattractive?

Logically, she knew Barry was being a dick. Men flirted with her, and while about thirty pounds heavier than in college, she thought she wore the weight well, her figure curvy in the right places. But a part of her had still heard the burning insults… until she met Ares.

He eyed her as if she were a delicious dessert he wanted to eat. He flirted. He came straight out and said he liked her. Kissed her and made sexy little growly sounds.

Before the fire that rendered her temporarily homeless, she’d been ready to throw caution to the wind and finally make herself vulnerable with a man. AKA, get naked. She trusted Ares to not be repugned. Trusted him to bring her pleasure, not pain. And while their plans the previous evening had been curtailed, tonight, once Greta went to bed, it would be just them in the house.

Just her, him, a bed, and six years of repressed desire.

She hoped she didn’t embarrass herself by either freezing up or coming too fast. Was there even a term for a woman who orgasmed prematurely? It might happen. When he kissed her before she left for work, the pleasure had her tightening so hard she’d almost climaxed in the driveway.

Pathetic. I’m pathetic. Sigh. And the day dragged. The only highlight—and torture—the regular updates from Ares. True to his word, he documented Greta’s adventure at the farm. Greta’s open-mouthed laughter as she fed rabbits of all sizes. The look of pure joy as she sat in a barn surrounded by goats—in pajamas! A sight that kind of made Charlotte jealous. She wouldn’t mind petting a baby goat too. The baking she’d done with Bea, the pair of them in matching aprons. The picture of Greta walking hand-in-hand with Selene in the woods. Someone even captured a great shot of Ares holding Greta up in the air so she could snag a leaf that remained stubbornly stuck to a branch.

She wished she’d listened to Ares and called in sick.

The day couldn’t end soon enough. December twenty-second meant all kinds of last-minute shoppers, and the next few days would be even worse. Then she’d finally get one day off for Christmas before the Boxing Day madness began. Ugh. She really hoped the new job at the dental office worked out because if it did, then next year she’d actually get the week off between Christmas and New Year.

Finally, her shift ended, and she couldn’t escape fast enough. The drive to the farm proved simple enough, highway to country road to another country road. She parked behind Ares’ truck and noted the Jeep Selene drove was gone. They’d left for their cruise as planned.

Before Charlotte had her foot on the first porch step, the door opened, spilling warm light and delicious smells, as well as an excited kid.

“Mama, you’re home!” Greta held out her arms, and Charlotte scooped up her daughter for a hug.

“Hey, munchkin. How was your day?”

“Awesome.” Greta proceeded to chatter about it.

Charlotte did her best to reply and pay attention, but her gaze kept straying to the sexy man leaning against the doorjamb wearing worn jeans that hugged his thighs and a plaid shirt stretched across that wide chest. Even his bare feet were sexy. To make things even worse, he gave her the most seductive, panty-wetting smile.

Ares winked and mouthed, “Welcome home.”

For the first time ever, it sure felt like it.

“Come inside, Mama. Dinner’s almost ready. I helped Ares make it.” Greta tugged her by the hand.

As she entered, she peeled off her coat, and Ares hung it and her bag on the hooks in the front hall. He then pointed to some knitted slipper socks as she kicked off her boots. “Mom left those for you. There’s also a hat, scarf, and mitten set.”

“She didn’t have to buy me things.”

“Actually, she made them. She sells knitted goods, along with honey and pies in her store.”

“When you speak to her, please say thank you.”

“Look what Selene gave me from when she was little.” Greta dragged her into the living room, where a miniature crib sat beside a wooden highchair holding a plastic doll. “Her name is Pansy.”

“She’s very cute.”

“Of course, she is. She’s my baby,” Greta said with a sober nod.

“Hungry?” Ares asked.

Yup, but not only for food.

Greta skipped ahead into the kitchen hollering, “I’m gonna get the cheese from the fridge.”

Before Ares could follow, Charlotte grabbed his hand and held him back.

He eyed her. “You okay? You seem a little stunned. I know we might have gone a bit overboard.”

“You did, but not in a bad way. Thank you. I’ve never seen her so happy.”

“I don’t think that kid is ever sad.”

“She’s pretty good-natured, but this…” Charlotte waved a hand. “When we did the big move, we had to leave most of her toys behind, and while I’d planned to replace them, the money just hasn’t been there.”

“More important than things, she had you,” his soft murmur. “I should be so lucky.”

She stepped closer. “Why, Ares McMurray, are you trying to say you want me?”

He uttered a low rumbly sound. “More than you could imagine.”

She tilted her chin to look him in the eye. “And what would you do if you had me?”

His arms went around her and tucked her close to his body as he growled, “Make you the happiest woman alive.”

He then kissed her, a press of lips that stole her breath—and heart. A kiss that ended too soon as he whispered, “While I’d love to take you upstairs right now, I get the feeling Greta might interrupt.”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t?—”

Right on cue… “Are you guys coming? I’m hungry.”

He chuckled. “Finish this later?”

“Yesss.” Her turn to be over emphatic.

Dinner tasted delicious and was full of smiles and laughter as she heard about their day.

While she wanted to rush Greta to bed, she controlled herself. She was a mother first. Her daughter deserved more than to be put down early so Charlotte could get some nookie.

When the time came, Ares carried Greta to bed, but they both read the story, taking turns doing the voices of the prince and princess.

When Greta’s eyes closed after a mumbled, “Love you,” Charlotte’s gaze met Ares’.

“I’m not tired yet,” she said.

He held out his hand.

Charlotte had never been so nervous in her life. She linked her fingers with his, but rather than lead her into his room, he drew her close in the hallway and began swaying slowly in time to the Christmas music they could hear from downstairs.

Unexpected, but it relaxed her. She leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes as she listened to the steady beat of his heart. His hands cupped the indent of her waist, and his mouth brushed against her hair.

Soft. Sensual. Also arousing.

She tilted her head and found him staring at her, a slight smile on his lips.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he murmured.

Rather than reply, she lifted on tiptoe for a kiss.

It started out slow, a rub of their mouths, an exploration that mixed warm breaths. His hands dropped to palm her ass, and she moaned at the feel of him pressed firmly against her.

She dared to slide her tongue against his, a teasing touch that deepened the embrace and drew that sexy little growl of his.

“It’s like you want me to lose control,” he murmured, not once letting his lips leave hers.

“Would that be so bad?” To her, the idea he could be so impassioned only made her desire him more.

“How did I get so lucky?” his reply before he drew a startled cry from her as he swept her into his arms.

She wanted to protest— I’m too heavy; you’ll hurt yourself— but held her tongue because he carried her with ease into his room.

Rather than set her promptly on her feet, he let go of her legs and kept her tight to him, tight enough she could feel his erection pressing against her belly.

Oh my. He appeared to have some size to him.

She stroked her hands over his shoulders and down his thick biceps. Such nice muscles.

“May I undress you?”

His request, so polite, had her nodding, and she shivered as his fingers grabbed the hem of her sweater and lifted it. He removed it, leaving her clad in only her bra, but she didn’t feel a need to cover herself with her hands. Why would she when his gaze smoldered?

“Your turn.” She tugged his T-shirt out of his jeans, and he helped her to strip it, revealing his smooth, toned flesh. She couldn’t resist placing a kiss on his pec, and he groaned.

“You’re just determined to make it hard for me to take it slow.”

“Maybe I don’t want slow,” she quipped as she raked her nails down his chest and over his abs.

“My sweet and sexy Charly,” he murmured before kissing her again. A short kiss, as he let his mouth trail kisses along her jawline. Nibbled his way down her neck. A good thing he held her because her knees went weak.

He walked her backwards until her legs hit the bed and she sat down. He knelt in front of her, his hands working the button to her slacks. She leaned back to help him tug them off. She kind of wished she wore nicer panties, the pair she had on simple pink cotton.

He didn’t seem to care. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

No, he was the god in this scenario. His body a work of art. She reached for his belt buckle and undid the loop, then the button fly. His erection bulged against the front of his navy-blue briefs.

Soon he stood there only in his underclothes, his penis technically hidden but also clearly outlined.

He nudged her knees with his muscled leg. They parted, and as he knelt between them, she lay back on the bed. He didn’t cover her immediately. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to her thigh. Left, then right. Again, only higher, an anticipatory touch that had her shivering.

His lips teased the inner flesh of her legs, so close to the part of her that quivered with need.

When he pressed his mouth against the cotton gusset of her panties, she arched and uttered a cry, which immediately had her shoving a fist into her mouth lest she wake Greta.

He nuzzled her, teased her through the fabric until she whimpered. Only then did he tug the panties with his teeth, removing them and thus baring her to his view.

But not for long, as he returned with his mouth to kiss her in that most intimate of places. His tongue teased apart her nether lips and lapped.

She clutched at his comforter and gasped and writhed and squirmed. Masturbating just didn’t give the same level of pleasure as another person’s touch. And it had been so long.

When he flicked her clit, she clenched and came, a small orgasm that left her shuddering.

And embarrassed.

But he chuckled. “There’s number one out of the way.”

Wait, one?

He wasn’t done with her. He kept teasing her pussy, flicking her clit, sucking it, teasing the opening to her sex until she felt her pleasure tightening again.

Again?

She’d not even thought that possible.

When he stopped and moved off the bed, she uttered a soft sound of dismay, but he rumbled, “Just getting a rubber.”

The wrapper crinkled as he tore it open, and she rose enough to snag it from his grasp. She was the one to tug down his briefs. His cock sprang forward, eager to meet her.

She grabbed it, and Ares threw his head back and grunted. “Don’t play with it too much. I don’t know how long I can hold on.”

Sexiest thing a man ever said to her. She rolled the condom onto his thick shaft, taking her time stretching the latex over it, squeezing it and enjoying his hissing reaction and the jerk of his hips.

She lay back down and beckoned. “Come here.”

“With pleasure,” he murmured, covering her body with his own but not crushing her with his full weight. He braced his arms on either side as he leaned in for a kiss. An embrace of such pure sensuality she clenched and writhed under him. The tip of him nudged her sex, and she arched to welcome him inside. He slid in slowly, stretching her, filling her. Torturous pleasure.

When he was fully seated, she couldn’t help but tighten her muscles around him, feeling his shaft pulsing.

A glance at him showed his expression intent, taut, strained, as if he held back.

She reached for him and drew him down for a kiss, and he sighed as he began to pump, a slow rhythm to start. Seesawing in and out. Rubbing her just right. The deep part of his thrust touching a spot that had her gasping.

He kept stroking, his pace getting faster, and she grabbed at his back, dug her nails in, and urged him on. Urged him to thrust harder, quicker. Her pleasure built for a second time, tightened until she exploded, her cry of climax caught by his lips. She shuddered as she came and kept coming, the orgasm that wouldn’t end and left her limp.

Only then did he hold himself deep inside, uttering a grunt as he came before he collapsed atop her, breathing hard.

He didn’t stay atop for long. He rolled and took her with him so she lay nestled on his chest. “Wow.”

“Very wow,” she agreed.

His hand lazily stroked up and down her bare back. “I knew it would be good… but damn.”

She giggled. “That was insane.” She lifted her head to eye him. “Will it always be that incredible?”

His lips curved. “I think it will only get better.”

He was right. Their second round, which involved a lot more body exploration, proved just as intense.

Afterwards, they cuddled. She didn’t want to leave the warmth of his embrace, even as she fully meant to go to bed so Greta wouldn’t wake alone.

Instead, she opened her eyes the next morning to see Greta beside Ares’ bed, grinning ear to ear. “Is Ares now my daddy?”