We had another drink, a basket of wings (not twelve), veggies and hummus, and a lot more fun. That was the night.
After a few hours and a couple of rounds of pool while Charli watched, I declared, “I’m done sharing my girl.”
We said our good-nights, and when Charli kissed my friends on the cheek, I told myselfso the fuck what?Jealousy raged inside me, but then it was me she held hands with as we left the bar.
Me she leaned into on the walk home.
Me she smiled at.
Me. Me. Me.
I was beginning to become a caveman of epic proportions.
Or a kindergartner who was jealously guarding his toy.
The weekend passed too quickly, which wasn’t a big surprise.
On Saturday, after a run and a day at the beach, sitting on a blanket just kissing and whispering, Charli rested her head in my lap, and said, “There’s something different out here. I know it’s all chic and Hollywood-ish, but it’s so natural too. I feel at ease here. There’s this organic beauty—and yes, there’s smog and honking—but the pace feels so much slower. Better.”
I’d wanted to ask her to stay here indefinitely, but I didn’t. It was too soon. We’d only just become reacquainted, but we’d been intimate in almost every way. I spent the day warring with myself, wanting to ask her but telling my brain to shut up.
We walked back to my place and tossed the ball to Harriette in the yard as we shared a glass of wine. Passing the pinot grigio back and forth, my mouth over where hers had been and vice versa, I stared at her eyes and saw my heaven.
“I’m falling for you,” I said, and she set the goblet on the table and ran her hand up my chest, stopping over my heart.
“I’m falling right back.” She rested her forehead next to her hand. “Geez, that’s so cliché for a writer, but I am. Falling, and it’s so scary. Like one of those dreams where you wake up startled, your breath gone from your lungs, and you feel like you fell down a flight of stairs.” Her lips moved against my shirt, her words vibrating against my sternum, each one finding purchase in my heart.
Falling, and it’s scary.
I ran my hand down the back of her hair, smoothing the beach-blown waves and keeping her close to me.
“I would never let you get hurt.” That’s all I said, and then I kissed her. That was enough verbal declarations for one day.
I broke free, whistled for Harriette, and grabbed Charli’s hand. We both needed a shower.
I led us to the bathroom and turned on the water before undressing her, shirt first, bra second. I paused for a lick, a nip, and a suck. Her moan filled the room, swirling with the steam pummeling from the shower.
“Want to shower?”
“I thought that was what we were going to do.” She ran her hand under my shirt and pulled it off.
We shimmied out of our pants, leaving them and our underwear in a tangled pile on the floor, and stepped under the spray. Warmth enveloped us and I leaned back against the tile, pulling her flush against me, kissing, dancing with her tongue like tomorrow’s good-bye was in a minute and this was my last chance.
She slid down my body and dropped to her knees. Her mouth covered me, licking lightly at first and then taking all of me.
As she took me deep and sucked, my head tipped back into the tile. Water continued to rain down on us as she sucked me dry, refusing to move back up until she finished.
“Oh God, Charli, the best,” I murmured when she returned to her feet. “Nothing compares to this moment.”
Her fingertips traced my arms before grabbing hold of my wrists. “We’ll see each other again soon, right? You’ll come visit me?”
“Of course.”
More kissing, some soaping, and I fell to my knees like a man in love.
Then there was some more kissing of another kind.
