15. Charlie

15

CHARLIE

M y lips tingle with the memory of the kiss. Not just any kiss. When Quentin’s lips touched mine, my body came alive in ways it never has before. And not just my body. When we connected with our limbs entwined and our lips locked, my very soul felt like it had come home.

I’ve never in my life experienced anything like the connection I have when I touch Quentin, which is why it’s so maddening that he continues to deny it.

I don’t understand his reasoning. Age is just a number to me. I don’t care that there are fifteen years between us. I don’t care that he’s a friend of my father. Those things mean nothing when there’s a connection like ours.

He needs to get over it and explore where this thing can take us. But I get it. He’s fighting years of conditioning, years of doing the honorable thing. But there’s nothing honorable in denying your feelings.

He just needs a little push to convince him to give this thing between us a shot.

Which is why I’m awake before my alarm goes off. It’s dark outside and the hotel is still, but this morning I’m not hiding under my pillow. I’m up and out of bed as soon as I hear Quentin stirring in the bathroom.

The shower turns on, and I wait for a few moments before pulling back the covers and creeping across the floor.

Yesterday I slept until my alarm went off, and he’ll assume I’m asleep now. But if I’ve timed it right, he’ll be naked in the shower right about now.

With my heart hammering in my chest, I turn the handle to the bathroom door and push it open.

The faint glow from the screen of his phone is the only light. Quentin must not have wanted to risk waking me by turning the bathroom light on. There’s a flutter in my chest at his thoughtfulness and it makes me bolder about doing what I’m about to do.

As silent as I can, I push open the door and slip into the bathroom.

He stands with his back to the door, water gushing over his muscular body. In the dim light I glimpse thick thighs, a perfect ass, and an inked back that ripples as he washes water over his face.

My breath hitches, and I forget to breathe. Heat floods my body and a sharp twinge tugs at my core. My panties dampen and my nipples stand to attention. He’s perfection.

His hardened body turns, and his eyes widen in surprise as he sees me.

The words I had planned die in my throat. I was going to pretend I needed the bathroom, but that feels lame now that I’m caught in his gaze.

There’s movement below his torso, and I look down to watch his manhood lengthen. His beautiful thick cock stands to attention and makes my pussy drip with need.

I lick my lips and swallow hard. My breathing goes shallow, and an overwhelming need to ride his thick cock makes me bold.

Before he has time to say anything, I step into the shower.

“What are you doing, Charlie?”

Quentin’s voice has a word of warning to it. My t-shirt is immediately soaked with water and sticks to my breasts. His eyes glance down at my peaked nipples, and he takes in a sharp intake of breath.

“I’m doing what you won’t.”

I take his hand and plaster it to my chest, moving his fingers so they squeeze my needy breasts. He groans and I push forward, pressing my body against his.

“I want you, Quentin. I need you.”

His eyes darken, and there’s indecision on his face. I move his hand down my body and slide it between my legs.

He groans again, and the sound combined with his touch makes me shiver.

“I need a release that only you can give.”

Quentin lets out a long shuddery breath. His hand moves between my legs, and his touch makes me whimper.

“You’re trouble, Charlotte.” His voice is croaky, and the way he says my name is like a rough caress.

His lips find mine, and the passion in them tells me how much he wants this too.

He kisses me hard, and I respond with a feeling of triumph. He pushes me backwards until I hit the shower wall. I’m caught between the hardness of the tiles and the hardness of his body. I squirm into him, flexing my hips as his palm caresses me.

The water has my t-shirt completely soaked, but he doesn’t stop to take it off. Instead he runs a hand underneath and up my body, and I arch my back as his fingers trail over my skin.

Every touch brings new heat to my body, which is made more sensitive by the hot water cascading over us.

Quentin hasn’t shaved yet, and his stubble scratches my chin as he nuzzles my neck, kissing me behind the ears.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispers into my ear, sending shivers down my body and into my core.

“I need you.”

He groans at my words and grinds his hips into me. My hand runs down his taut chest and past the pubic bone until I grasp him in my hand.

“Charlie…” He groans as I stroke him, needing both my palms to cover the length.

His hand slides over my panties, and even through the fabric, the sensation sends a shot of intense pleasure through me.

I cry out, and my head slams into the wall as my eyes roll backwards. One hand falls from his cock and with the other I squeeze him tight, not knowing what I’m doing any more.

“Tilt your hips forward,” he commands.

I do as he says and am rewarded when his fingers circle my sensitive nub.

“You’re going to come for me, Charlotte, like a good girl.”

Even during this intimate moment, Quentin can’t help giving commands. I like the way he orders me around in his gruff army sergeant voice.

One hand slides around my ass and grips it tight while the other explores my most intimate places. Although I’ve still got my panties on, the sensations are intense. I’d prefer there not to be a barrier between us, but at least he’s touching me.

“Come for me, Charlie.”

The pressure builds, and I grip him hard. “Don’t worry about me. Focus on you, Charlie.”

I do as I’m told, and with a final stroke the pressure breaks and I explode on his palm. Waves of pleasure and heat roll through my body, and I cling onto him as the orgasm shakes my world.

Intense sensations roll over my body, and for a moment I can’t hear anything. Then the feel of water hitting my legs and the pounding of the shower against the tiles brings me back to earth.

When I open my eyes, Quentin’s watching me intently. His hands are still pressing into my pussy, and he moves them slightly. A new pressure begins to build.

“You’re beautiful, Charlotte.”

No one’s ever called me that before without my makeup on. And the intense way he’s looking at me makes me think he means it.

His palm moves against me, and by now my panties are soaking wet from the shower and my own juices. I must look startled, because he looks concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve never done this before,” I confess.

His eyes widen, and his hand stills. “You’re a virgin?”

There were plenty of boys in the various towns where we lived in California who wanted to do it with me, but I never felt like I wanted to be close with any of them.

“I’ve never wanted to be intimate with anyone until I met you.” He frowns, and a pang of uncertainty pierces my gut. “Is that a problem?”

He takes a few breaths and withdraws his hand from my panties. I shake my head quickly back and forth.

“Oh no you don’t. We’ve started this, Quentin; we need to finish it.”

“That was before I knew you were a virgin.”

“What difference does that make?”

He runs a hand over his bristles. “It’s big, Charlie. It’s a big responsibility. Is that what you want? You think I’m the right candidate to lose your virginity to?”

I stare at him, uncomprehending. “Stop making a big deal out of everything, Quentin. I never met anyone I wanted to sleep with before. Then I spend two days in a van with you, and my body is acting like it’s missing a limb and you’re that limb. I want you. That’s all there is to it. Don’t over think it.”

I reach for his cock, and he turns away.

“I can’t do this, Charlie; it was a mistake. I won’t be responsible for taking your virginity.”

Anger flares in my belly. Why can’t he see that there’s something between us, and it’s more than a quick fumble? I like him. I like him a lot. And now I’ve humiliated myself. I’ve thrown myself at a man who doesn’t want me.

Tears of humiliation sting my eyes, and the last thing I want is for Quentin to see me cry.

“Fine.” I step out of the shower and grab a towel from the rail. “You can live your life under a rock, Quentin, over thinking everything, but that’s not how I live. I like you; I want you, and I know you feel it too. But you’re too much of an ass to see it.”

I fling open the door and head to the bedroom, slamming it shut behind me.

I thought we’d made progress, but the man’s impossible. I thought there was something between us, and all he needed was a push in the right direction. But I was wrong. He’s too set in his ways, and he won’t ever change.