Page 17 of Reckless Chances
“Thanks,” she smiled and twisted her long hair into the towel on top of her head.
“I don’t know how girls do that,” he laughed.
She touched the carefully wound towel on her head. “Says the guy who just fashioned a skirt out of two hand towels.” Emma’s stomach growled loudly, and she drew her had to the front of her robe in embarrassment, as if placing her hand in front of her stomach could somehow quiet the whale calls.
“I’m a little peckish myself,” Charlie smiled. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your fridge.” He passed by Emma and strode into the little kitchen, his face lit from the small light bulb in the refrigerator. “Oh my,” he said.
He stepped back from the fridge and pulled out the second strawberry shortcake. “Can we eat this?”
“The whipped cream is looking a little said.” She dragged her finger through the deflated cream on top of the once spongy, now soggy angel food cake.
“Have you got any Kahlua?” Charlie asked.
“I think that Jimmy left some liqueurs in the cabinet. He told me to drink them.” She opened the leaded glass cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Kahlua. “Got some!”
She handed the bottle to Charlie who had already added the leftover heavy whipping cream to the stand mixer on the counter. “I’m surprised he keeps this stuff in his house. He hasn’t drunk for years,” Charlie grunted as he twisted off the top of the dark bottle.
“I guess there are no secrets in this town.” She shook her head. The reality of small-town life was truly setting in. At that moment, she realized that she could never go to the grocery store and be anonymous, there would always be someone who knew her story. She wasn’t sure whether she loved or hated the idea of it all.
Charlie seemed to pick up on her contemplation. “It’s not that bad. Remember, I’m the bartender. If anyone knows the dirty secrets of all the Rapidians, it’s me. Now, do you have any sugar?”
“Rapidians?” Emma reached over Charlie’s shoulder and pulled out a crystal sugar dish, complete with tiny silver spoon. “Will this be enough?”
Charlie’s fingertips touched hers as he took the sugar and heat shot from her fingertip right to her toes. “Should be.” He turned on the mixer and slowly poured the sugar into the whipping cream. Over the whirring of the mixer, he said, “Locals, that’s what we call them, Rapidians.”
“So, you’re a Rapidian?” she asked.
Charlie laughed and put his hand on his belly. “Maybe I am now, but the real Rapidians would scoff at that. I moved here to be a ski bum. I grew up in Ridgeway.
Emma wanted to ask him more, but at the mention of Ridgeway, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Adam was from Ridgeway too. She cleared her throat, “How long have you lived here?” she asked.
Charlie sped up the machine and drizzled the Kahlua into the mixer. The sugary smell was divine. “Feels like forever.” He stopped the mixer and dipped his finger into the whipped cream and turned to face Emma. He pulled her towards him with his free hand, her hips pressing against his as he leaned against the counter. “Have you ever had whipped cream with Kahlua?” There was a glint in his eye, and he held the off-white puff of cream to her lips.
“I haven’t,” she whispered. Torn between sucking the whipped cream off Charlie’s finger or just bypassing it and going straight to his lips. He made the decision for her and slipped his index finger into her mouth, his thumb on her jawline. She sweetness of the liqueur and the silkiness of the whipped cream melted in her mouth and she wanted more. More cream, more Charlie. She sucked on his finger and gazed up at him and saw a smile on his face.
“Do you like it?” He withdrew his finger from her lips and sucked on it.
Emma leaned against him, stretching her arm past his side to dip her finger into the bowl. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” She let Charlie suck the whipped cream off her finger, and the warmth that rushed between her hipbones and between her legs told her that taking it slow with this man was no longer an option.
“Charlie?” She was breathless. She pulled her finger from the warmth of his mouth and replaced it with her lips. He kissed her then picked her up as if she weighed nothing and set her down on the terra cotta tiled kitchen island.
“Yes?” His lips were so close she could feel the breath from his words on hers.
They were both breathing heavily, and she kissed him again, speaking with her lips touching his, his beard tickling her skin. “It would be a shame to put that whipped cream on that soggy cake.” She undid the tie on her robe and shrugged the silky fabric off her shoulders.
His beard tickled her cheek, then her neck. Goosebumps erupted over her entire body when the heat of his breath and the gentle brush of his whiskers swept across her chest, just above the neckline of her tank top. She writhed on the counter, loving the teasing, but part of her, the wild part of her wanted him to rip off her pyjama pants and let her feel his breath between her legs.
Charlie’s lips didn’t leave her chest while he flailed his arm behind him, his fingers grabbing onto the metal bowl. He slipped one strap of the tank over her pale shoulder, kissing the space it had occupied, and then did the same with the other strap. He trailed his fingers along the neckline of the tank top and Emma pushed her chest towards him, urging him to rip it off. He grabbed onto the shirt with his thick fingers and pulled it down, exposing her pink nipples to the cool air of the kitchen, lit only by the light over of the stove. Emma didn’t have big boobs, a fact that Adam had never let her forget. He had even suggested foregoing their honeymoon so that she could get a boob job. But Charlie’s eyes lit up as he cupped her breasts in his palm and Emma arched her neck, letting the towel fall from her head, her wet hair pooling on the island behind her. A gasp escaped her lips when the warmth of his lips met her nipple and the tickle of his beard scratched at the pale skin around it. She ran her fingers through Charlie’s hair as he nipped at her chest, but when an unfamiliar cool sensation met her bare and puckered nipple, she opened her eyes. The silky coolness against her skin was like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her left breast was still in between Charlie’s lips, but her right was covered in the Kahlua cream. She let out a happy sigh and gazed down at Charlie’s long lashes, his palm replacing his lips as he moved from her left to her right side. His blue eyes met hers through the dark curtain of his lashes as he licked a trail through the cream. Emma shuddered with the opposing cool and warm sensations and arched her chest closer to him, silently urging him to continue. He dragged his thumb through the cream, and she sucked in a breath as his tongue swept her chest clean, leaving behind nothing but goosebumps. When he finished, he stood and her fingertips fell from their loose entanglement in his hair, and when he kissed her, all she could taste was sweetness and desire.
She crossed her arms and pulled the tank top over her head, letting it fall to the tile floor, and slid to the edge of the counter, closer to Charlie, her body pushing his back as her feet dropped to the floor. She put her hand on his chest and nudged him backward. It only took two steps for his lower back to hit the edge of the counter in front of the sink. Emma pressed her bare chest into his abs and her belly pressed into the towel where his massive hard-on was practically ripping through the terry cloth. “Your turn,” she whispered into his mouth and swore that the towel twitched against her. She tucked the mixing bowl into the crook of her arm and dropped to her knees onto the rag rug while she tugged at the side of the towel with her free hand. The tight knot released, and the towel slipped silently to the floor. Released from its constraints, Charlie’s cock barely missed Emma’s chin on its way to slapping his rock-hard V-shaped lower abs.
From Emma’s very recent experience, she knew that the heat from her tongue followed by the cool of the whipped cream had made her knees weak. She stole this formula and took Charlie in her mouth, as much of him as she could manage. Her earlier estimations about his size weren’t exactly wrong, but he was even bigger than she had imagined. While he was in her throat, she dipped her fingertips in the bowl, and then dragged lines of whipped cream where her lips had just been. Just as she had, Charlie moaned with the sensation, his thighs twitching against her shoulders and she didn’t waste any time, licking it off, devouring the sweetness, and savouring Charlie’s manhood until his legs were shaking like the maple leaves battering the single-paned windows from outside.
“Oh God, Emma.” He moaned. “I’m going to, I’m going to...”
He came before he could stammer out the rest of his sentence. He was still breathing hard and fast as he helped Emma to her feet, and before she knew what was happening, she was swept off her feet and carried honeymoon style into her bedroom.
They didn’t fall asleep until the bowl of whipped cream was literally licked clean.
Sometime over the night, the rain must have stopped, and Emma woke to the sun shining through the thin white curtains. The first thing she spotted was the empty mixing bowl. She smiled and turned, hoping to nuzzle into Charlie’s underarm for a few minutes before they had to get up and get to work, but she was met with an empty bed. “Charlie?” She untangled the sheet and wrapped it her body, clutching it to her chest as she made her way through the house. “Charlie?” The bathroom door was open, and her heart sank when she looked to the entryway and saw that his boots were gone.
