Page 101 of Hold Me Instead
“Boss’s orders.” Jordan pointed toward Mel, who gave a wave. “Just make sure you come back again. That’s the only request.”
“Ahh, here just take it as a tip then.” Zachary threw some bills on the counter, then grabbed Charlie’s hand.
“Nice to finally meet you, Jordan.”
“Same. Be good to our guy, yeah?”
“Oh, I will,” Charlie promised.
He suppressed a growl as he looked down into Charlie’s face, her mischievous twinkle meant for him, especially when she pinched his butt.
“You’ll pay for that,” he whispered in her ear.
She giggled. “Can’t wait.” She waved to Mel, then hurried out of the bar, with Zachary right on her heels.
“Wait!” She spun toward him, her hand going to his chest. “What about Maple? She needs dinner, or—”
He kissed her. “She’s at Sandra’s. Vivi asked if they could have a sleepover.”
“Oh my God, that’s the cutest damn thing,” Charlie said, pulling him down for another scorching kiss. “Take me home.”
Chapter 29
Charlie
Charlieslidherhandsup and down her thighs, pressing her back against the passenger seat of Zachary’s car. Her attraction to him vibrated through her body, ready to burst from her fingertips if they didn’t do something about it.
The closer they got to her place, the more nervous she became. Zachary’s light touch on her shoulder made her jump, pulling her focus from the window to find his gaze on her.
“You okay?”
“Of course!” It came out high-pitched, immediate proof of her lie.
He nodded toward her hands, clenched into fists on her lap. She stretched her fingers, sliding them down her legs until her upper body was flush to her thighs.
“Fuck,” she mumbled. She lifted her head. “Can we go inside and…talk?”
Zachary nodded. “Whatever you want.”
She gave him a small smile, then bolted from the car, hurried up the walkway, and through the alcove to her apartment. Two small lamps glowed from the built-in shelves. Toothless was perched just inside, waiting to greet them, and wove between their legs. Charlie used the distraction to feed the cat and mutter sweet nothings at her.
“Feels so much later, but I guess we got to the bar early,” she said as she pulled the curtains and joined Zachary on the couch.
The darkness of late November added a chill to the air. She shivered. Zachary pulled the blanket from the end of the couch and draped it over their laps, then silently grabbed her hand, tracing her knuckles. She watched the motion, building up the courage to speak.
He waited. His patience, his care, went so much further than he could ever realize.
“I have something called vaginismus.” The admission fell from her lips, no bullshit, no dance. Her heart rate picked up, and Zachary gripped her hand. She dared to look him in the eye. “It’s a physical limitation. A sexual dysfunction, more specifically.”
His hand relaxed slightly, but he stayed focused on her. “Okay.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There are different causes, based on the person. Some experience it after trauma, some after medical treatments…which I guess is a form of trauma. Some, as far as they can tell, are born with it—that’s my scenario, by the way. Nothing happened, it’s always been like this.”
Zachary nodded, still quiet.
“Umm. Right. So I’ve been in physical therapy for years. Actually, it took years to find a doctor who understood what I was going through. I cycled through a bunch, most of them telling me it was in my head. Others saying that, with time, I could work through it—without giving me guidance, by the way. Oh, so I suppose I should explain more of what it is, huh? That might help.” She cleared her throat, nervous, emotions clawing their way out.
Zachary gave her a small smile. He didn’t move closer, but he still held her hand.
