25. Logic Has Left the Building

Chapter 25

Logic Has Left the Building

Nothing moved in the sleepy town as Charlie raced the few blocks to Joy's place. Speed limit? He ignored it. If Shane O'Brien or any other law enforcement officer had been on patrol, they would have cuffed Charlie's ass. He was behaving like a lunatic stalker. But he didn't give two flying fucks. He was hell bent on a mission.

He slowed down long enough to survey the front of Crystal Harmony Haven. Dark. The M3 was parked right where he'd left it, but the Mercedes was missing, which meant Asshat was gone—assuming Asshat had been driving the Benz.

Every nerve ending in his body fired as he pulled around back and parked in the empty lot. He shot from the driver's seat and banged his truck door shut, the sound reverberating in the chill night air. Charged toward Joy's back door. Pounded. Stood back. Pounded again.

The door opened just as he was about to pound a third time, revealing a mussed-up Joy in petal-pink shortie pj's and a scrubbed face. She rubbed her eyes as if she'd just awoken. "What are you—"

"Is he here?" Charlie bounced on the balls of his feet, clenching and unclenching his fists inside the pockets of his hoodie.

"No, he left—"

He didn't wait for her to finish. Just pushed through the door, slammed it, and took her face in his hands before crashing his mouth down on hers. The beast inside him roared to claim her. He had no fucking idea where it had come from, but it didn't matter. He'd been sitting on a lit fuse she'd set the flame to, overwhelmed by the need to show her the havoc she was wreaking.

He broke the kiss, his chest heaving.

She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. "Is everything okay? Wh-what's going on?" Her voice was one breathless rush.

"I'm here to finish what we started, unless you tell me to leave. But you'd better do it right now." Her almond-floral shampoo invaded his senses, making him dizzier than he'd been seconds before.

Her eyes flared, but the rest of her face remained perfectly expressionless for an agonizing few ticks of the clock. Finally, she spoke, her voice dropping an octave. "I don't want you to leave."

His extended abstinence was about to come to an end.

"Lock the door." He released her, cuffing one wrist while she threw the deadbolt with her free hand. He had to touch her; he couldn't stand letting her go.

She cocked an eyebrow. "You seem a little … off. Are you sure everything's all right?"

"No, but it will be." He scooped her up, one arm under her bare knees, and carted her to the bedroom.

The moon had risen higher, and the room was painted in broad brush strokes of silver. He set her on her feet, and she opened her mouth—probably to ask what the fuck he was doing, for which he had no answer—and he took her mouth again. She responded with a sweet moan that fired up his belly and made his cock swell painfully against his fly. When she opened for him, his tongue swept in, demanding, showing no mercy. He tasted and sucked and owned and devoured , his hands in her hair, wrapping strands around his fingers so he could position her head where he wanted it and delve deeper.

He drew back, searching her face for permission. His breaths were growing quick and shallow, and he fought to keep them even. "If you want me to stop, tell me now because I am loaded like a freight train, and I'm bearing down on you, princess." His speech was a string that barely made sense to him. Every action was driven by feral instinct; logic didn't co-exist in that space.

She gasped out two words that stoked the fire inside him, making flames leap to new heights. "Don't stop."

"I'll take care of you, but I need this off." He tugged at the hem of her top, and she helped him drag it over her head, revealing a thin tank top that couldn't hide her taut nipples straining against the white fabric. He spun and dropped onto the edge of the mattress, yanking her between his legs. She was still on her feet, putting her breasts at the perfect height for his mouth.

"I need to taste," he grunted. Hands on either side of her ribcage to hold her steady, he latched on to one.

"Oh God!" she wailed, adding fuel to the conflagration inside.

He moved to the other side, turning the fabric wet and transparent from his laving. Her perfect brown buds showed through, and he nipped at them, sucked them, and flicked his tongue until they were pebble-hard tips. The rougher he was, the louder her moans grew. She threw her head back and leaned into him, writhing against him while he held her up.

Pausing his ruthless onslaught, he glanced up at her. "You like what my mouth is doing to your tits?" Eyes on her face, he bit down on a nipple.

She lowered her head, her eyes glittering slits as she gazed at him. "God, yes," she hissed.

He bent back to her chest, and she wrapped her hands around his head, slim fingers tunneling through his hair, drawing him closer. Suddenly, she juddered backward. The tank was between his teeth when she jerked, and it made a tearing sound. He'd probably ruined it. He couldn't muster any regret.

"I need to tell you something." Her words came out in a breathy quaver.

He looked up at her beautiful, flushed face. His hands reached up, cupping her breasts, thumbs strumming her pearled peaks through the wet fabric. He had to touch. "Tell me."

"I-I don't … This feels wonderful, but I don't ever have … Orgasms don't happen for me. I just want you to know so you're not disappointed when I don't get there. "

She couldn't have said anything that would have spurred him on more. Though she didn't realize it, she had just thrown down a gauntlet he had no choice but to pick up. She'd waved the red cape at the snorting bull inside him, and he was kicking up the dirt, ready to charge.

Telling himself not to spook her with his current brand of crazy, he let a lazy smile bloom on his face. "You don't mind if I try to get you there, though, do you?"

Her eyes were all dark, liquid desire. She shook her head in herky-jerky fashion.

"Good. I do love a challenge." His fingers were already hauling her shorts over her hips, down her smooth, olive-toned legs. He would have preferred removing one layer at a time and enjoying the visual overload, but his patience was stretched as tight as his zipper, so he ridded her of her bottoms in one go. There would be plenty of time for panty-gazing later.

She quivered as she stood before him, bare except for the tiny tank top that showed more than it hid. Her arms fell to her sides and dangled awkwardly, as if she didn't know where they should go or what to do with them. She made a move to cross them over her chest, but he pried them apart and placed her hands on his shoulders, holding them there, covering them with his own.

"Let me look at you." Sliding his hands to her hips, he stroked the silky skin above her hip bones with his thumbs while he roamed his gaze over her. As she watched him, her small, strong fingers dug into his shoulders through the layers of fabric. He took her in, worshipping her with his eyes for long moments, letting the heat between them bubble and steam. She had put on weight in the time she'd been here, he was sure of it, and he appreciated every inch of her.

In the background, the refrigerator hummed, and a soft breeze ruffled the gauzy bedroom curtains, bringing with it the sweet scent of mock orange.

He lifted his chin, pointing it at her top. "Now show me all of you."

She hesitated for a heartbeat, two, her eyes searching his for what, he wasn't sure. And then it hit him: this wasn't about modesty. It was about control. She was weighing how much she was willing to hand over. This woman did not forfeit power easily, if ever. But if it was orgasms she wanted him to serve up, she would have to let go at some point .

He would never make her go anywhere she didn't want to go. Coax her? Yes. Urge? Oh yeah. Push the limits? Absolutely. But right now he also didn't want to give her too much time to think, to wrestle the upper hand he held by one slim thread—because he was about to seize all of it.

They played another marathon game of chicken, staring one another down. He didn't blink, didn't flinch, keeping his eyes fastened on hers so they didn't stray to the revealing tank or all that glorious bare skin below it. Was this thing going to happen between them, or was she about to send him home with an ache in his pants?

Her lids lowered. "I'm curious about one thing," she murmured.

He tipped his head in question.

"Was that a request or a demand?"

"Let's call it a soft demand. I'm not asking for permission this time." He cocked an eyebrow when she didn't move. "I'd be happy to take it off for you, but it might not stay in one piece."

One corner of her mouth lifted. "You're good at this."

"Glad you think so because I am way out of practice."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it, princess. It's true."

Sliding her hands from his shoulders, she grasped the tank's hem and pulled it up an inch before stopping. "When do you take your clothes off?"

"They're definitely coming off, but not until I'm ready." He was so damn ready right now—and not only because his skin was overheating in his hoodie. He relished this game far too much to give in to her or to his craving just yet.

Rising to his feet, he placed his palms under her hands, nudging, lifting, encouraging her to remove the last scrap of clothing hiding her body from him. When at last she shimmied out of it and dropped it to the floor, the sight sucked the air from his lungs.

"You are perfect," he whispered in awe. He skimmed his palms over her, following the path his eyes had taken moments before. Her lids fluttered, closing and opening and closing again, while breathy mewls fell from her parted lips. A shiver ran through her every time he happened on a particularly sensitive spot, like her ribs just below her breasts, the hollow at the base of her neck, or the flare of her waist at the small of her back. Before dawn lit the sky, he planned to taste every square inch of skin in those spots .

Threading his fingers through the hair at the back of her head, he bent to meet her mouth as he drew it to his. His other hand trailed to her back, over a rounded globe. He filled his palm and drew her in tight, digging his fingertips into her flesh as he kissed her. His tongue stroked hers, and hers responded boldly with explorations of its own that sent chills skittering up and down his spine. He was setting the rhythm, taking it slow, savoring the taste and feel of her soft, moist mouth. Earlier, he'd been so utterly out of his mind he'd missed that she tasted like strawberries and cream and smelled like caramelized sugar. He wanted her to spread it all over his body.

His mouth drifted to her throat, where he licked her collarbones and explored the soft skin at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Fingers tunneling into his hair, she dropped her head back, giving him free access. Her body slithered against him, bare skin against his clothing while his hands wandered all over her. Everywhere he touched, she was warm, lush velvet.

"I want to feel your skin against mine," she purred.

He did too, but he needed to rein himself in so he didn't lose his mind and his load. The thought of her giving over control, of her eventually coming unglued because of him whipped up a frenzy of lust inside him.

With great restraint, he stood upright, putting inches of daylight between them, and unzipped his hoodie. "Take it off." Without a word of protest, she slid the sweatshirt off his shoulders and down his arms while he watched.

The garment hit the floor. "Now take off my shirt," he ordered.

She tugged at the hem of his T-shirt where it was tucked into his jeans, and he seized the opportunity to toy with her stiff peaks. Cock straining and aching at the thought of getting his mouth on that silky skin, he watched his fingers roll and pinch her pearled buds, watched her chest stutter when he increased the pressure. A gentle touch was not what got this woman's body rocking.

Frustrated that she couldn't loosen the T-shirt, she went for his belt, her nimble fingers making quick work of the buckle, but he put his hands on hers and stopped her. "Not yet. Only the shirt right now."

She smirked at him. "Then this is going to take all night."

Grasping the tee behind his neck, he yanked it over his head in one move. No sooner had it gone sailing across the room than her hands were on him, running over his pecs, circling his nipples, tracing his abs .

"You're beautiful," she murmured. His mind was a little too muddled to tell her that was his line. Instead, he let his hands dangle at his sides, let her inquisitive fingers explore, trying not to shudder under her touch. His skin sizzled in places and broke out in goose bumps in others. He was consumed by a need for more—more of her hands on him, more of her bare skin under his.

When she snaked a hand down and began stroking his dick through his jeans, he clenched his jaw.

"You're so big," she whispered, a touch of surprise in her voice. His ego shot to the moon.

"It's all for you," he gritted out. "But not yet."

He moved her hand away, grasped her upper arms, and spun her so she faced the bed. His chest slid against her back. Dropping his mouth to her shoulder, he worked a slow trail of kisses up her neck while his hands cupped her breasts, kneading, tugging, alternating between rough and rougher as he gauged what flipped her switches. He wanted to know everything about this woman. He wanted to turn her inside out and make her unravel in every way possible.

Her breathing hitched, the sounds coming from her harsher, and it drove the blaze inside him to spark hotter, higher. He glided one hand down the back of her thigh and lifted her leg, planting her foot on the edge of the mattress while he pushed her knee to the outside, splaying her open. While one hand toyed with her tits, his mouth worked over the sensitive skin on her neck below her ear. He inched his fingers toward her seam, not quite reaching, teasing with the threat of a touch, until she was bucking against air. He kept his eyes open, watching her gorgeous body move.

Fuck, the noises she made!

The sight and sounds made his balls ache, made his tip leak. He might have been in control at that moment, intent on getting her off, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out.

Cupping between her legs, he kept his touch light, his fingers still. "What do you want, princess?"

A frustrated moan rolled through her, and she threw her head side to side against his chest, arching her back. One hand reached behind his head, yanking his hair by the roots, and her other one languidly stroked the breast he wasn't fondling.

That was next-level hot. He didn't want to break the spell .

He watched, mesmerized, and began mimicking her movements. Her pleasure mounted, and soon she was grinding against his hand where he still cupped her.

"Charlie, I need … I …"

"Do you want my fingers inside you?"

Another moan, coupled with a garbled, needy plea.

"I need to hear you, baby. Do you need my fingers fucking you?"

The instant the word "fucking" left his lips, her body responded with a series of undulations, like the waving movements traveling up and down a belly dancer's body.

"Yessss," she cried out.

"Yes, what? Tell me what you want, Joy." His voice was strained, like the rest of him.

He dragged his fingers along her entrance, coating them. She was fucking drenched, and his entire body shook with the need to slide inside her.

He might have been tormenting her, but it was no more than he was torturing himself.

Finally, she gasped, "I want your fingers inside me. Please. "

Oh, he liked the sound of that "please." He pushed in one finger, and she drew in what sounded like a breath of relief. Another, and she let out a shaky exhale. He moved his fingers in and out, slowly at first, letting her adjust. When he added a third finger and brought his thumb to the party, she wailed and jerked, her movements out of sync, as though she were short-circuiting rather than getting off.

He slowed the tempo. "Relax, princess. Let me do this for you. Does it feel good? Do you need me to change anything?"

A reedy noise that sounded like "No" was his answer.

When he picked up the pace again, the jolting repeated. He withdrew his fingers, chuckling inside at her huffs of protest. "Don't worry, princess. I'm going to take care of you. I just need to change things up. Lie down."

Panting, she shot him a questioning look over her shoulder. "You're kinda bossy."

"And you kinda like it. On your back. Now," he demanded in a harsh tone .

If he read her signals right, she dug him taking charge. She also dug the dirty talk. With what brainpower he still had at his command, he made a mental note to ramp up both.

She plopped onto the mattress and wriggled up toward the headboard, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"That's right. Good girl." His cock was going to have a permanent imprint of a zipper on it if he didn't let it loose, so he unbuckled his belt, popped the button on his jeans, and unzipped. He toed out of his shoes and pulled down his pants and his underwear, kicking them off to the side. His cock sprang free, and he nearly groaned in relief. Meanwhile, Joy's eyes fastened on his dick and widened.

He gave himself a long stroke. "Like what you see?" Yeah, he was being cocky as hell, but the sparks in her eyes and her head bobs emboldened him. She was obviously enjoying his antics. More than anything, though, he wanted to deliver that elusive orgasm—and then some. If he could get her good and worked up, he might get her there.

"I didn't hear your answer," he pressed.

"Yes," she rasped, "I like it. Very much."

He stroked himself again, once, twice. "You're going to like it even better when I'm drilling into you. I can't decide if that's going to be from the back or the front the first time."

If it was even possible, her eyes went rounder. They darted side to side. "Did you bring a condom?"

"Several, but we're not there yet. No, we're a long way from needing a condom." He flicked a finger at her juncture. "Spread your legs, princess. Wide. I need to fit my shoulders between them."

"You're not going to—"

"I sure as hell am. Now lie back and quit talking, unless it's filthy talk or you're telling me how much you love my tongue inside you."

She scooted backward, digging her heels into the mattress. "But I haven't showered since last night."

"Then you'll taste all natural, like pure Joy." He knelt on the bed, grabbed her ankles, and yanked her back down again. Leaning over her, he pulled in an exaggerated inhale and licked his lips for effect. "I can't wait to get my mouth on you. You're going to taste so fucking sweet."

She blinked. Three times. "What if I don't like it? "

"Then you'll tell me, and I'll stop. But I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen."

Her chest rose and fell as her breath quickened, making her breasts jiggle. The building excitement was so thick he might need to push it aside like a curtain.

He swept his fingers up and down the side of her calf in long, even strokes. "I want you bad, Joy. I'm dying to have you, in case it isn't obvious." He rubbed his rock-hard length along her thigh. "If you're uncomfortable with anything we're doing, you just say the word. It'll be a challenge to stop, but I'll abide by your wishes."

The assumptive close. And God, he was praying it worked and she didn't tell him to stop. As much as he was trying to turn her dial to extra-high, his own dial had blown way past hers. His pump was fully primed.

Determination came into her caramel orbs, and she leveled them on him. "I don't want you to stop, Charlie. Take me any and every way you want." Her head dropped back, her eyes closed, and she swept her arms above her head in sweet surrender.

Fuuuuuck!

He snatched a pillow, lifted her head, and bunched it underneath her neck, propping her up. Startled eyes snapped to his, and he gave her a sly smile. "So you can watch what I do to you, princess. Meanwhile, I'll be watching your gorgeous face when I fuck you with my tongue."

"Oh!"

He propped her knees up and nudged them. "Relax." She obeyed and let her legs fall open. "Oh yeah. Just like that." Sitting on his haunches between her legs, he took in the view and whistled softly. His thumbs caressed the silky skin at the top of her thighs. What thoughts his brain could muster were powerful, primal. They existed deep in his gut and connected directly to his cock. But one coherent notion echoed through him: this was the woman he was about to lay claim to.

When he next spoke, his voice was like sandpaper. "I need you to do something for me."

Her brows drew together in a question mark.

"I want you to play with your tits while you're watching me feast on you." Hesitation shone in her eyes, so he pushed a little harder for that control. "Come on, baby. Show me how you like to be touched so I know what to do when it's my turn again. "

She didn't move. Looming over her, he braced himself on his forearms and kissed and nibbled each nipple. Then he covered her body with his, his cock trapped between them, and kissed her languidly, deeply, sucking her tongue into his mouth, then each lip in turn, worshipping her mouth as he fought to contain the fire raging inside him.

"I need you to show me, Joy," he murmured against her full lips and drew back.

Eyes locked on him, she lowered her hands to her upper chest and rested them there. He trailed kisses down her body, lingering at the altar of her breasts before he gathered her legs in his hands. Flattening his tongue, he took one long lick, his gaze mining hers.

A shiver raced through her. Her hands fluttered over her chest, as if unsure what to do, and a fresh dose of lust flooded his veins. "Touch yourself, Joy," he growled. He stroked her with his tongue, ending with a firm flick that made her ass come up off the bed.

Her fingers danced over her breasts, tracing tentative circles.

"You're holding out, baby. I know you like it rougher than that," he taunted. "Now's no time to be shy. Show me how you touch yourself when no one's looking."

She closed her eyes and tweaked her nipples.

Oh, she could do better than that, and he was just the guy to prove it. He began laving her, gently at first, sucking on her most sensitive spot. Turning up the intensity, he flicked, swirled, and dipped inside her over and over. With each pass, she writhed beneath his hold, her movements growing wilder. Her whimpers became cries that climbed higher. The harder she bucked, the harder he clamped down on her thighs so she couldn't escape his mouth. And the more acrobatic his tongue, the more she fondled herself with abandon. Her face was a study in unbridled pleasure.

Fuck yeah!

"That's it, baby. Ride that pleasure wave." Let go.

What a sight she was! He'd never seen anything like her.

All the while, his balls grew impossibly tight, heat tingled the base of his spine, and his cock throbbed and wept until he thought he might explode. He needed to get her there and fast .

While his mouth alternated between gentle and savage, he inserted his fingers, pumping and stretching and curling, holding her down with the flat of his palm. She seemed to jolt the edge and fight her way back again.

"I'm sorry," she gasped out.

He slowed everything down, using light, languid strokes so she'd know he wasn't giving up. She looked down at him, and he met her gaze head-on, not hiding the naked heat he was sure burned in his eyes. Frustration simmered in hers. God, he hated to see that. What kind of selfish fucks had she been with who got her to a point where she apologized ? Assholes like Sterling , who didn't want to get their perfectly manicured hands dirty.

Climbing up her body, he cradled her face in his hands. "Nothing to be sorry about, princess. We're taking our time here. There's no sprint to the finish line. If we get there, we get there. If we don't, that's okay too because there's nowhere else I want to be. I love exploring you. I can do this all night." Shit, he hoped he could hold out for the next five minutes.

He brushed his lips against hers, dying to delve in, but he held back. "Do you want to taste yourself on my tongue?"

She shook her head.

"Then you won't." He took his time finding every sensitive spot on her neck and shoulders, until he had her moaning. Raising his head, he smoothed her hair back from her forehead and deposited a kiss there. "Are you enjoying me exploring you?"

She gave him a firm few nods.

"You'll tell me if you want more or less of something?" Her body was super sensitive, highly responsive, and it communicated her likes and dislikes with an ease that took him by surprise, but he wanted to be doubly sure he read her right.

Again, she nodded.

He slithered back down her body, repositioned himself between her legs, and gave her a long lick that made her judder. "You like that?"

"Yes," she mewled.

"Good, 'cause I like it too. I love watching your beautiful face when my tongue's inside you."

Closing her eyes, she let her head drop back on a whimpering moan. "I'm not … I can't …"

He pretended not to hear. "I love how wet you are and how your body bucks for me." Yeah, him talking was a huge turn-on for her—for him too, but this was about her. A lot more dirty talk was in store for her, especially if it got her out of her head and closer to that high she was chasing.

And chase it, she did. She squirmed, flailed, and clutched at his hair. Not letting up, he was relentless. Releasing his strands, she exhaled an extended, breathy "Oh" and arched her back.

A moment to catch her breath, and she locked eyes on him. She palmed her breasts. "You like that?" she mocked in a husky purr.

The sight thumped him in the balls. "Oh fuck yeah. I love seeing you touch yourself. Baby, you are about the sexiest fucking thing this man has ever seen." He slid his hands under her ass, pulled her closer, and put his mouth back on her, pulling gasps from her. Body slithering, mouth parted, sweet sounds of pleasure falling from her lips. The sensual overload had him aching to bury himself to the hilt.

"I can't wait until my cock slides inside you and you're gripping me so fucking tight." He slipped his fingers inside her wet heat. "But I'm not done here just yet. So you just lie back while I get my fill because I've never tasted anything sweeter than you." He was rambling, but he wasn't lying.

At last, her body seized and shuddered, and she let out a glorious yelp, her hands dropping to her sides to clench the covers. He took everything she gave him, lapping at her gently as she came back down.

Chest rising and falling, she clawed for breath. He kissed her mound and rested his head against it. Gentle kisses along her sensitive inner thighs caused little aftershocks to ripple through her. He paused to suck at her tender skin, pulled back, exposing a dark purple mark. Moving to the opposite side, he left a matching mark.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she huffed out.

Besides giving you your first of many orgasms? "I'm marking you."

What possessed him, he had no idea. Marking and claiming had never been his thing. But damn! After watching her let go and feeling her body release because of his ministrations, his control over his rational self had fled. The wild man inside him yearned to claim her. Joy Holiday was his.