“Sounds good.” That thought has my cock stirring in my pants. “As long as I get to lick it off you as well.”
“Strip me down and make love to me in front of the fire.”
“Are you trying to turn me on right now?”
I shift to try and quell the growing problem in my jeans.
“I want you to fuck me right here on this ice.”
“What?” That has me pulling back and looking at Charlie like he’s lost his mind.
“Just wanted to see where this ‘whatever you want, Charlie’ business ends.”
I skate back from him, breaking the connection. “I see.”
“You can’t blame me, can you?”
“Trying to test me, hmm?” I skate another circle around him. “See how much I like you?”
Charlie shakes his head as he stumbles. He reaches out for support and I catch him.
“I already know how much you like me.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And how do you know this?”
“I just do.” The grin on Charlie’s face is smug. Like he doesn’t need to tell me how much Idolike him.
Because I do. We only just started this thing, but what I’m feeling for Charlie is new and different from anything I’ve felt before.
I shouldn’t be comparing the two, but it’s hard not to when the divorce is still so fresh. Everything with Delia always felt like we had to be on. For people to see just how much we loved each other. It never felt genuine. Like we were always one-upping those around us.
With Charlie? I don’t get any of that. We’re happy just to be together. Whether it’s at home or out doing somethingtogether, there’s no pressure. Or him letting me do a lap while he’s taking a break on the edge of the ice.
It’s refreshing. And it has me feeling things I haven’t felt in years. Considering where I am in my life, it should scare me. But it doesn’t.
“Yeah,” I say. “You do.”
Leaning against the boards of the rink that sits on the outskirts of town near the Naughty Pine Tree Farm, I skate over to Charlie and rest a hand on either side of him.
“And I know I like you.”
I smile back at him, pressing closer to him. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to be so cocky.”
“So sue me; I like knowing how you feel about me.”
“I’m beginning to rethink all of this,” Charlie tells me, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
“Aren’t you the jokester?”
Grabbing his hands, I pull him off the wall and take us on a slow lap of the rink. It’s better than the alternative of wanting to devour his mouth.
I find I’m becoming addicted to Charlie. It’s easy.
