Her hands drifted to my bare chest and she slowly traced the lines of one of my tattoos with her index finger. Every muscle in my body went on alert as she gave me a slow, sexy smile and straddled me. She lazily trailed her finger between the two names I had inked over my chest; her eyes questioning everything they saw. Lowering her mouth to my skin, she gently flicked her tongue along the pathway of the two names.
My hands closed into fists against my thighs; my body coiled tight with tension, waiting for her to ask me about crap I had no intention of telling her about. Ever.
“I always wondered about your tattoos,” she murmured, licking and teasing my skin. “Who are Joey and Charlie? And what’s the story about the tree and rabbit hole?” she asked, skimming her tongue along the lines.
Hell, it was making mesick. Having someone else’s tongue on mesayingtheir names. The tension twisted my muscles and strained against my skin, my fists clenched tighter.
Charlie.Charlie.
That was a hell of a shit story. I leaned back against the edge of the couch and chuckled to myself. This conversation was a fight waiting to happen. That’s another thing I don’t get about women. Why do you ladies want to know about the girlsbefore?It’s not going to make you happy, especially when we explain to you our first great relationship, the one you’ll never live up to. Ever.
I wasn't goingthere.
I needed a quick fuck and a quicker getaway.
Slumping my head back against the cushions of her couch, I loosened my fisted hands to open the button to my jeans and unzipped them. I tugged myself out, stroking, squeezing; then letting it spring free. “Don’t want to talk,” I said, tangling my fingers through her hair and spreading a hand across the back of her neck to push her mouth over my cock.
With a low moan, Brooke took me all the way in and gagged. Setting up a slow pace, she bobbed her head up and down, softly raking her teeth against me.
Man, I needed it faster. And what was with the teeth? Damn, no teeth. Ever.
I had to get the Hell out of there.
I tightened my grasp on her hair, twisting the strands through my fingers—pulling and pushing, quickening her speed, pressing her deep, getting the rhythm I needed.
She pulled her mouth off me with a small whimper and looked up at me. “Tell me who they are,” she whispered, running circles over me with her tongue.
Big turnoff. I hate the sexual power games women try to play.
One of her eyebrows lifted. Her hand wrapped around my shaft, and with perfect pressure she continued to try to torture the truth from me.
Another small swirl of her tongue and both eyebrows lifted up as she tilted her head to the side.
Brooke was waiting for my answer. She was looking at me with those giant blue eyes, her wild, sexy hair framing her cute face, and she looked like a life size Barbie doll. Any man would probably cut off his left nut to spend a night with a woman like that, and I’d be a fool to tell her anything about my past. So as always, I kept my thoughts to myself. I kind of liked my manhood in one piece, and since it was in her mouth at that moment, I was feeling if I started talking about Charlie, she might bite it the hell off.
And what thehellwas she thinking, asking me that stuff when I was in her mouth? What did she think—she could suck and slurp the answers out of me?
One long swipe of her tongue, from bottom to top, “Tell me, Delaney. Or do you want me to stop?” she teased.
But I didn’t want to think about that shit.
I tried to forget. I tried to forget how everything happened, how the whole damn Charlie-Joey-fuck-my-life-situation played out. About how I tried getting it all back, but I couldn’t bring back shit.
I couldn’t do anything.
So, I always kept my thoughts about everything in my head. I didn’t give a voice to them anymore; it was just a wasted effort.
I just stopped trying to get everything back.
Everything.
Everyone.
Was gone.
Sometimes, when I’m working, and I see a woman with that long, silky chestnut colored hair standing in a crowd, my body freezes, and I stare at her until I know for sure it isn’t Charlie.
It’s never Charlie.
