Somehow, the name lands wrong in Charlotte’s core. Distant, like she’s speaking to a stranger. She lets out a reluctant sigh: “I don’t know… I guess I’ve gotten used to it now. I might not mind it if you call me Charlie every once in a while.”
Something flickers in Riley’s expression. “No, I couldn’t. Not now that I know how much you hate it.”
“No, Riley, I…” Charlotte grunts at having to spell it out for her. “I’m saying youcan.Sometimes. In moderation.”
“I canwhat?”Riley's tone has a playful tint. “I’m gonna need you to be very clear about this.”
For lack of a more mature response, Charlotte turns her hand into a puppet, repeating Riley’s words back to her in a childish voice.
“Not falling for your trap, Charlotte,” Riley says.
“Do not make me beg you to call meCharlie,” Charlotte hisses through her teeth.
“All I need is your permission.”
“And I’m saying you…ugh,you have it!”
“Have what?”
Checkmated by Riley, once again.
“You have my permission to call me Charlie,” Charlotte seethes, her frown painfully straining her eyes.
“And I happily will,” Riley grins like the cat that got the cream. Then she lowers her voice: “As long as you keep calling me Ri.”
Charlotte sniffs and wriggles herself from Riley’s grip. “Let’s find some goddamn seaturtles.”
They do end up spotting an array of beautifully colored fish,a family of turtles, and a bunch of coral that looks almost hot pink as the water breaks the afternoon sunlight in such a way it sparkles up the bottom of the ocean.
On the way back to the dock, Charlotte makes Riley stay close to her so she can direct her to go slower, faster, or take a break. A few minutes before they reach the shore Riley starts to grow loopy, but as soon as Charlotte helps her off the boat, she wakes like a sleeper agent.
“I’m back, I’m okay!” she loudly declares, pretending nothing was ever off, though she does seem to be in a hurry to get away from the dock.
After Charlotte has returned the keys, she joins Riley on the path leading back to the main road.
“So, how do you feel about letting me plan the next one?” Riley says, lightly prodding Charlotte’s ribs to mess with her.
“The next one?” Charlotte’s head jerks up. “There’s gonna be a next date?”
“Yeah, of course,” Riley says, and Charlotte’s heart swells. But then she adds: “Can’t havethisdebacle be the last one, can we?”
Though Riley has probably meant it to sound joking, and though she’s admittedly suffered through half of the date, her comment keeps swimming around in Charlotte’s head long after they’ve arrived back at the hotel.
Has Charlotte actually messed it up? Is she that bad at taking someone on a date? Does Riley still want her if she clearly has nothing to gain from her, if Charlotte can’t manage to make her feel special and cared for?
If she hadn’t already brought up the stupid name thing, she would feel comfortable enough to share her fears with Riley. Now she feels like she’s already used up all the complaints on her punch card: she doesn’t want to have another difficult conversation. She wants to be fun. She wants Riley to have a reason to spend time with her. Her own insecurities and weird brain worms are clearly not fun for anyone, so she decides to battle her thoughts alone.
Initially, nothing seems to have changed. They steal moments during the day, secretly sneak into each other’s rooms at night, and bicker and provoke each other in between. It’s easy to let a little more carelessness slip into their dynamic, but they make sure to stay careful around Gabi and Lou as her sudden sapphic splurge still isn’t something Charlotte is ready to shout from the rooftops.
As they wake up on the day the guests begin to arrive, they’ve already started to mourn the loss of their free time. Knowing they won’t be able to sneak away as much, they try to make the most out of their last day before stepping fully into the roles of hostesses.
“Fuck this… and fuck… you,” Charlotte mutters in between kisses. “For being so… goddamn… insatiable.” She nips at Riley’s bottom lip, making her gasp so she can slide her tongue inside. Riley’s moan is sinful, and she loses her composure for a second before doubling down in intensity, sucking back at Charlotte’s lips.
“I’m the insatiable one?” Riley says, greatly offended, cupping Charlotte’s ass with one hand and the back of her head with the other. “Do you remember who woke me up this morning by rubbing her needy pussy against my thigh?”
Charlotte does remember, even though the memory has already grown hazy since it got followed up by a lesson inqueening:Riley had made Charlotte straddle her head, which had Charlotte concerned for their safety before losing herself to all-consuming pleasure. The way this position had granted Riley full access to Charlotte’s most sensitive areas had taught her to engage her core muscles—as well as hold onto Riley’s hair, as if she was riding a horse—in order to stay upright. Riley’s pained grunts had quickly turned into blissed out hums, and Charlotte’s orgasm had nearly sent her into space.
Now, with Riley willing but still clothed in her bed, only a few hours after their morning session, she a littledazed from the dirty talk. She has a sense Riley knows how weak she is for it, but still she tries to hide her reaction lest Riley uses it to her advantage.
