I can’t help but laugh. “Holy smokes?”
“Yes! Holy smokes!” she shrieks. I can’t stop looking at her. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off her all night, actually.
I like this version of Charlotte. Carefree, laughing, relaxed, excited. I like it a lot, actually. My heart hums in my chest. I feel buzzy, but not from alcohol. I haven’t had any. I haven’t neededany. It’s a little scary, but I’m not worried. Whatever I’m feeling seems natural.
We pull up to her apartment, and I take a long look at the place. It’s in an older building, a cute little brick establishment that has been reconstructed in the recent years like many places in the city.
“That was fun.” she says unbuckling her seat belt. “I don’t get to do that often.”
“Go out? Dance? Or have fun?” I ask.
“All of the above,” she says.
“Why?” I ask. “Who’s stopping you?”
Charlotte thinks about that. “Me, I guess,” she admits.
“Well, I think you need to have more grace with yourself. Because relaxed you is a pretty fun person and we still got things done. It’s okay to let your guard down once in a while.”
“Do you want to come inside?” she asks, throwing me off a little. “Josie isn’t here. She’s staying at her sister’s tonight to binge the new season of Take It to Your Grave.”
“The true crime show?” I ask, and she nods.
“Josie loves true crime,” she says, and I smile too. I don’t want to talk about Josie, but I do want to go inside. As an answer to her question, I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door.
Her apartment is exactly what I expected. It’s small, but big enough for two people who don’t mind close quarters. There’s exposed brick and interesting architecture, but the sink and appliances are new. The bright colors, abstract decor, and antiques give it a boho/vintage vibe.
“Nice crib,” I say as the door closes behind me.
“Crib?” she asks, and I chuckle. “Your apartment. I like it.”
“Oh thanks,” she says, stripping out of her boots and walking into the kitchen. “It’s a mix of both our tastes, though she has it a little more cluttered than I’d prefer.”
It’s funny because despite the artsy decor, I wouldn’t describe the place as cluttered. I can see how Charlotte might think so.
I watch her buzz about the kitchen in her jeans and tank top. She took her coat off at the door, and I can finally appreciate her figure without all the bulk of winter wear.
“So I have wine, beer, tequila, and I think there might be some vodka in the freezer,” she says. As she walks over to the fridge to check, I close the space between us and stand right behind her. “Yep, we have vodka. I’m afraid it’s the cheap stuff. Oh–”
Charlotte turns around and runs right into me. I don’t think she was expecting me to be standing so close.
“I’m not really in the mood for a nightcap,” I tell her, tugging her hair from its tie and letting it fall around her shoulders.
“You’re not thirsty?” she asks, her voice breathy.
“Oh, I didn’t say that.” I answer and our mouths crash together.
Charlotte wraps her arms around me, and I pin her against the fridge as we kiss hungrily. Fuck being thirsty, I’m starved…for her. I don’t want to go faster than she does. If there’s anything I’ve learned about Charlotte, it’s that she likes to call the shots. She likes to feel in control. She likes–
“I want your dick,” she says, and it about knocks me on my ass.
“You got it,” I say, picking her up. At around five-seven, Charlotte is taller than most girls I’ve been with. It makes it easy for her to wrap her legs around my toned torso. She even locks her ankles, giving her the freedom to run her hands through my hair while pressing her pussy right against me.
“Living room? Bedroom? Shower?” I wiggle my eyebrows. “How do you want it?”
“Bedroom,” she says between kisses.
“Traditional. I should have guessed,” I say, making my way down the hall.
