Page 28 of Break the Rule
“You don’t sound sorry.”
“Suppose I’m not,” Charlie admits, only feeling a tiny bit guilty about the confession. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
“Don’t call me that either,” he hisses.
“Well, you haven’t told me what I can call you,” Charlie points out. “I still don’t know your name. How am I supposed to know what to call you when you fuck me?”
He drops his hand in favor of crowding into Charlie’s personal space, an act so unexpected it has Charlie’s breath catching in his throat. Even more unexpected is the way he risesonto tiptoes and pulls Charlie’s face down to whisper, “I’m going to have you ass up, moaning like a slut. You won’t need to know my name because you’re barely going to remember your own.”
White hot lust courses through Charlie. “Fuck.”
A finger traces down the shell of his ear. “You gonna let me fuck you, Charlie?”
Charlie would let him do anything he wanted right now. Fuck him, suck him, even step on him.
“You really are a slut, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Charlie confirms, having absolutely no qualms about admitting it. Keeps things simple. Charlie likes sex, and he’s not embarrassed in the least about it. If someone is gonna judge him then they sure as shit don’t belong in his bed.
“Okay then,” he whispers, so close Charlie could touch if he wanted. He doesn’t, not sure if he’s allowed, and he has just enough sense to know if he screws it up now he won’t be getting screwed later. “Then tonight, just tonight, you’re gonna bemyslut.”
Biting back a groan, Charlie nods. They might be the only ones in this dining room since the other couple eating left but there are people in the back cooking. If he’s too loud, someone might wonder what is going on. While Charlie doesn’t care what anyone thinks about him, he recalls the pretty blond’s earlier words about needing this job; therefore he acts like a good boy, keeping his hands and moans to himself. For now anyway.
“I’m going to go back to work now, Charlie.” He takes a step back, the defiant glint in his eyes replaced by something bordering on confidence. It’s equally sexy but far more intoxicating.
“Wait, let me give you my number.”
Not giving him a chance to argue, Charlie grabs a napkin off his table before hurrying to the register. He can hear voices conversing in Spanish, but no one comes to check on them, sohe reaches over the counter to grab a pen, scribbling his phone number down before hurrying back to his mystery man. He holds the napkin out, relieved when pale fingers curl around it.
“Keep that. If for any reason you change your mind about coming over tonight, just text me. I might be disappointed, but I won’t ask questions or demand an explanation. Changing your mind is fine, leaving me hanging isn’t.”
His pretty boy clenches his jaw, and for a moment Charlie worries he’s fucked up, but then he shoves the napkin in his pocket and sighs, voice so low Charlie can hardly make out what he says. “M’sorry.”
“What?”
“I’m not going to say it again,” he hisses, louder this time. “Just...shoo. Go away before I try to take you into the bathroom to blow you and get myself fired.”
“Is that a possibility?” Charlie asks.
“I’d rather not test it.”
“Then I’ll see you tonight?” Charlie asks, unable to keep the hope from his voice.
“Yes.” The to-go bag of food is removed from the table and pressed into his arms. “I have to work. Get the fuck out of here, Charlie.”
Hearing his name fall from those pretty, pink lips does it for Charlie. They’re kind of shiny, almost like there’s some kind of shimmering lip gloss or something. It would be embarrassing how desperately Charlie wants to see those lips wrapped around his dick—if he was ever embarrassed about sex, which he’s not. He does really, really want to see that pretty mouth on his dick though. He hopes this guy doesn’t bail a second time.
“Fine,” Charlie concedes, because he knows Andrew is likely sitting in his car waiting outside for him. “But call me if you change your mind. Or text me. Send me a carrier pigeon even. A skywriter that says ‘fuck off Charlie’would even suffice.”
“You can fuck off right now,” he snarks, looking like he wants to hit Charlie. That shouldn’t turn him on but it does.
“I will, tonight. With you.”
He groans, shaking his head then gesturing to the door. When he points to the exit, it draws Charlie’s attention to the pale pink nail polish on his hands. His fingers are small, delicate almost, and the chipped, peeling pink polish is as unexpected as everything else about him.
“Out,” he barks. “Now.”
“Fine,” Charlie concedes, partially because he doesn’t want to push too far and ruin his chances this cutie shows up tonight and also because he knows Andrew will be starving. After sparing one final look at the guy he gets to have in his bed tonight, Charlie turns and marches out of Juanita’s with his to-go order clutched in his hands and a smile on his face. This smile grows when he finds Andrew parked directly out front, windows down and classical music softly playing through his speakers. His eyes are downcast, so focused on the phone in his lap that he doesn’t notice Charlie’s approach. Smirking to himself he gets closer, curious what has Andrew so hyper focused. Moving quickly, he reaches through the open window and snatches Andrew’s phone.
