Page 64 of For All It's Worth
“That was college, though. You were young, and well, dumb. We all were. I’m just lucky I didn’t pick up anything either.”
“It wasn’t just that though. It happened just before my birthday, remember?” Charlie nodded. “Well, I tried to get in contact with my mom.” His eyes widened. “I didn’t tell you, but she had moved. Left no forwarding address. Her number was disconnected.”
“Fuck!”
I couldn’t contain my bitter laugh. “Yeah. So being rejected and catching an STD after my boyfriend cheated and turning twenty-one with no family was great.”
“I’m sorry, Max.”
“At least I had you.”
“You’ll always have me.” He sounded so certain. No room for doubt but that didn’t mean that I was sure of my place in his life. Especially if this all went wrong. Still, I reached for reassurance. “Really?” I could hear the fear and longing in my voice.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s not all though, Charlie.” I pushed down my worry to get it all out. “No one has accepted me so I’ve never really had things the way I want them.”
“I want us to be different. To keep talking when we need to say things. I want you to be comfortable enough to ask for what you need.”
“It’s not that simple. I…”
“Tell me,” he pleads.
“I…I can’t.” I buried my face in my hands.
“Then,” Charlie moved closer, running his hand up my thigh, “How about you show me how you need it to be?”
I lift my head to stare at him. “Really? Just like that?” I couldn’t seem to process what he wanted, my brain on the fritz from the sensation of Charlie’s wandering hand.
“Absolutely.” His hand paused and he squeezed lightly, “Look, we need to do what works for us. Communication is great, but sometimes just showing me what you need for you to be happy is what will work better. D’you know what I mean?”
I nodded since his words made sense. Being open with Charlie was easy because we had a solid foundation to work from. The only reason that we hadn’t talked about sex before was that I hadn’t wanted to listen to him talk about fucking other guys while I’d been in love with him and wishing it were me instead.
Standing, I took his hand and pulled him towards my room, sensing that we were on the cusp of something but unwilling to slow it down. I needed this as much as I needed air. We needed to reconnect physically. True, it was quick to be jumping into bed but also felt completely natural to put my trust in Charlie, in what we were building, to take that step. Once we did this, there would be no going back.
The window was open to allow the scent of the cleaning products to dissipate and I dropped his hand to head over and close it, pulling the blinds down partway for privacy.
Kicking off his shoes, Charlie got on the bed and sat himself against the headboard.
I pulled off my t-shirt and dropped it to the floor, padding over in bare feet and sweats to him. My heart was beating a mile a minute as I tried to put on a brave face. I could trust Charlie. Even if he didn’t want things the way I did, he’d meet me halfway. We could work through it together.
Climbing onto the bed, I straddled Charlie, leaning in for a kiss.
“Show you, huh?” I whispered against his lips.
“Yes,” he breathed before pulling me flush against him.
Charlie surrendered to my kiss. My hands ran through his hair before pulling his head to angle it the way I wanted. His moan reverberated through my body and I couldn’t help but rock against him.
His hands roamed my back, pulling me tighter against him. I could feel his arousal against my own.
Each of his reactions showed me just how right I was to trust in what we had. He was as into this as I was. It wouldn’t always be as easy as this, but I just had to believe in us.
Every tiny moan was ratcheting my arousal higher and higher until I had to lean back and take a deep breath.
The dream of having him under me, as desperate for me as I was him, didn't compare to the reality, and I wanted to pinch myself to prove this was really happening.
I moved back to tug at his shirt, silently telling him to remove it. The shirt quickly joined mine on the floor and I was able to run my hands over the bare expanse of his chest, feeling smooth skin pulled taut over firm muscles. Weeks working with Henry had given him great definition and one day soon I’d spend all day mapping his body with my fingers and mouth.
