*37:Goodbye

A couple of hours later, Charlie had crammed everything back where it belonged – her regret, her passivity, and her feelings.  Anything that wasn’t required to instigate an orgasm was far removed from her mind as she focused on nothing but the physical pleasure that lie ahead.

The night was starry and clear, and it was cool without the sun to chase away the chill in the Atlantic breeze.  Dew transferring from the grass to her feet deducted another two imaginary degrees from the temperature, and Charlie questioned the simple t-shirt dress she’d put on after her shower. 

It had been impossible to not select another dress to “tease” him, and the heather gray was also soft, comfortable and easy to slip back on afterward.  All that made it perfect with the exception of the evening chill, which she staunchly decided to endure without complaint.  Jon would heat her up soon enough, anyway. 

She passed through the pool gate and followed the concrete around to the short stepping stone path that led to the Airstream’s door.  Although everything was quiet, the barely visible light from the trailer suggested that Jon was inside and Charlie lifted her hand to knock.

“Yeah.”

Taking that as her cue to enter, she opened the door and stepped up into the Airstream before pulling that same door closed behind her.  She found Jon stretching forward from his seat on the jackknife sofa to put his phone on the countertop across from it, and once the leather case slid safely onto the surface, he leaned back to regard her with hooded eyes.

“Counselor.  We meet again.”

“Imagine that,” she marveled with a reserved smile as her little clutch purse joined his phone. 

If Charlie didn’t know better, his state of undress and tousled hair would suggest that he had just rolled out of bed.  The only thing he wore was a pair of navy gym shorts with a New England Patriots logo at the hem. 

Nothing else. 

With the close quarters in here, he was no more than three feet away, and she could easily identify individual hairs as his bare chest rose and fell.  The set of ab muscles hiding under his folded hands carried the same 3-D clarity as did the strip of furred skin between his waistband and belly button. 

She had the oddest compulsion to lick that strip and follow it up with a quick shove to his elastic waistband.  That’s all it would take for him to be naked, and the Technicolor thought of it had her nipples chafing against bra cups that had seemed soft mere moments ago. 

It was distressing how attracted she was to him, even knowing what he thought of her.  The only thing that eased it was the awareness that he suffered from the same attraction – even knowing what he thought of her – and was just as appalled by it.

“Come here.” 

The order was issued quietly but with a thread of steel that commanded compliance as he pushed into a more upright position, and without speaking, she glided sandaled feet toward his.  Those feet had barely come to a halt when Jon's hands curved around the backs of her thighs and tugged, impelling her forward.

Charlie peered down into sultry blue irises curiously, but lifted a knee to place beside his left hip.  She assumed he wanted her to straddle him, and his murmured “other one” along with the continued tug at her thigh confirmed it.  Hiking up gray cotton to the top of her thighs, she once again did as told because it suited her purposes.

Tucking her mouth into a lopsided smirk, she let sandals slip from her feet to bounce against the floor and glided open palms over his chest.  The warmth of his skin immediately chased away the chill while the crisp hair added a level of stimulation.  The sensation was almost as pleasurable as the way he felt tucked between her thighs, but he evidently didn’t share that opinion. 

Jon he circled her wrists and held them immobile against his rippling pectorals to instruct, “Kiss me.”

The smirk dug deeper into her right cheek.  “This your version of making me pay ‘dearly’?  Bossing me around?  If so, I’ve already paid several times over.”

“Just fucking kiss me.”

While, in their physical relationship, his authoritative shtick was nothing new, this was the first time he’d demanded a kiss.  Jon usually stuck to orders involving movement and body positions, or decreeing her orgasm.  Kisses were merely another means to release aggression once the hormones started raging.  They were never a starting point.

“Why?” 

The devil – Jon – made her do it.  He was responsible for the wickedness that drove the question.  If Charlie had her way, she’d rather just slide her tongue inside his mouth while he groped her curves.  Being bad hadn’t been this enjoyable until he came along.

Divorce settlement bad?

She gagged the voice in her head so it didn’t drown out his answer.

“Because I said so.”

“Not good enough.  Tell me you want me.”

“No.”  Her wrists were released so that unforgiving palms could seize her buttocks.  Almost painfully so.  “Give me a goddamn kiss.”

He wasn’t mad – yet.  For the moment, Jon was only exerting his willfulness to weigh it against hers.  It was a game, and she was excited to play with him.  He wouldn’t get as far with it tonight as he had earlier in the evening.

“No,” she volleyed bluntly, rolling her hips into his with a little grind as she waited to see what he would do with the ball back in his court.

What he did was set his lips in a mulish line and harden the angle of his jaw to the consistency of granite as he clutched the imaginary ball with an iron fist.  The wheels in his mind cranked with agitation as he lobbed the ball back and forth from one hand to the other, deliberately choosing his course of action.    . 

Now he was getting mad, and she derived a perverse pleasure in it.  Charlie held her breath while patiently awaiting the final outcome.

“Everything’s gotta be a fight with you, Chiara.” 

The lack of explosion was a bit of a letdown, but she took the use of her name as compensation.  The sound of it wasn’t sexy before he started using it, but now she couldn’t hear it without suffering a jolt of desire.

“Why not when it feels so good?”

Frustrated hands went from her butt to the hem of her dress, which got bunched in his fists and used as a handle to jerk the whole thing upward.  Her dominant position put her at a height advantage, meaning that it didn’t get swept over her head in a historical romance novel move.  It got hung around her head and shoulders, leaving Charlie the job of pulling the garment free and tossing it to the floor. 

His eyes ravaged the view he was left with – bare skin and a skimpy beige lingerie set – and his hands soon followed suit.  Rough and callused fingers pawed at her torso, burning each inch of flesh that they came across.

“You feel good. Too fucking good.”

The bitterness in the admission didn’t offend Charlie.  She thought the exact same thing while digging impatient fingers through his hair and relishing the assault.  He felt too fucking good for this to be the last time. 

It was a fleeting notion pushed aside by the same manhandling that pushed aside her bra cups.  The weight of her breasts settled in his hands, with him assessing how they filled his palms before resentfully kneading the pliant flesh.

“Tell me you want me,” she prodded.  If this was her tri-annual pilgrimage to be the object of a man’s desire, Charlie deserved the verbal confirmation along with the physical.   Even if it was a lie, she wanted the whole enchilada.

“After you kiss me.” 

It wasn’t happening.  She wouldn’t kiss him if she was Snow White and he was her only shot at waking up.  He’d gotten enough of her cooperation for one evening and she would die on sheer principle before touching her lips to his.

“I guess we’re at an impasse, then.  Mmm.” 

One rough hand was replaced by his mouth, which delivered a hard bite to her nipple.  What he likely intended as punishment, she enjoyed almost as much as she enjoyed provoking him.

“Harder next time, Stud.”

The rumble of his laughter vibrated against her bosom as he rolled that nipple on his tongue before letting it slip free.  “If I said a zebra was black and white, you’d say it was white and black just for the sake of argument.”

“I think we’ve already established that fighting feels good.  There are better uses for your mouth than talking, so get back on that, would you?”

It was surprising that he latched back onto her nipple without comment.  A mere second later, she found out why – and where his free hand was.

“Ow!”  Charlie jerked upright and gave him an accusing glare as the stinging pinpricks danced over her right buttock.  “You just smacked me.”

“Mmm-hm.”  With a wet ‘pop’, he released the nipple again.  “I’ve been threatening to bust your ass all week.  You finally pushed too far.”

This man.  It had to be this man turned her on like a freaking light switch.  The one without an iota of respect for her. 

Enjoy what he gives you.  Don’t think about what he doesn’t.

Extracting her hands from his hair, she reached back to unfasten her bra and let it fall down her arms and to the floor.  She taunted him with her body by pushing both bare breasts into his face, then with her words.

“I figured you’d be man enough to try and turn me over your knee.”

“Is that a challenge?”

A challenge wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she intentionally sought to spur another quarrel, but the emboldened glitter in his eyes…  It had her thinking that perhaps this was a case of deviant serendipity.   

“One that you can’t live up to – unless I take pity on you.”

The world went tilting on its axis with up going down, down going up until Charlie was looking at the floor and heard a resounding smack of flesh. 

“You were saying, Counselor?” he exulted as that wide, square palm soothed away the sting. 

Indignation, anger and arousal all fought for dominance over the forefront of her mind.  Indignation and anger were the logical choices, but because she’d never been spanked before, she hadn’t realized the sting would morph into such tantalizing tingles.  Those tingles were trying to steal the show away from the other two, and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it. 

Or was she?   

“I hate you!”

For making me want you.

Another crack resounded off her other cheek, and he chuckled arrogantly as she struggled to get her feet on the ground.

“You hate that I know which buttons to push.”

Having finally found some balance and stability on her own two feet instead of helplessly sprawled across his lap, she blasted him with a fierce scowl.  It didn’t prevent her from stepping out of her panties, but she wasn’t a display of eroticism when retorting, “When you push them all, it’s not hard to figure out, genius.” 

Charlie bent at the waist to bunch the legs of his shorts in both hands.  When her grip was solid, she jerked with all her strength and pulled both him and the shorts off the couch.  Now he was the one scrambling to get to his feet, and when he stood, she pointedly noted that he wasn’t unaffected by the bizarre foreplay. 

“And mine obviously aren’t the only buttons getting pushed.” 

One palm flattened against his sternum with enough force to throw him off balance and plop him back down in his original seat.  Charlie wanted her original seat back, too, and straddled him to stand on knees that were positioned outside his hips.   

“Pretty sure I hate you more,” he murmured, even as he allowed her to take his erection in one hand and pump it from hard to rigid. 

That was impossible at this moment.  Emotion stirred in her chest fiercely enough to mimic a cardiac incident ,and she wanted to inflict pain upon him in the worst possible way.  Forgetting the hands that had smacked her were now sensually caressing her backside, Charlie wanted to torture him.

Dipping the swollen head of his rigidity into folds that were beyond damp, Charlie dredged it through the wetness.  From clit to the opening that ached to be filled and back again she took him, soaking him with the desire that being with him wrought. 

Then she did it again. 

And again. 

“Don’t toy with me, Chiara.  Give me the pussy you’re dying for me to take.”

She lifted her head from the pornographic show between her legs to doggedly demand,  “Tell me you want me.  That you fucking hate it, but you want me anyway.  That you can’t help yourself.”

“You know I’m not going to do that.”

The clash of wills did nothing but make her hotter.  Angrier.

“You will if you want your cock inside me.”

His nostrils flared with either infuriation or arousal.  Both were so intertwined at this point, Charlie couldn’t distinguish the difference. 

“I already told you ‘no’.”

Unacceptable.  She desired him too badly to be denied, and he was in the same shape if he’d just frigging admit it.

“Do it and I’ll give you that kiss.”  That was as far as she was willing to negotiate.  Almost.  “A kiss like I’ve never given you before.”

Agitated hands kneaded her like bread dough.  First her butt, then her back, her ribs, her breasts…  His hands were everywhere, looking for the magical spot that would make her drop onto him and satisfy them both. 

That spot was in his mouth and no place else.

She let the barest tip of his dick slide inside her before clamping shut and rubbing his length over her throbbing clit.  Charlie could see that his nipples were as hard as hers, and that strip below his belly button was still just as enticing as it had been upon her arrival.  Unwilling to ignore the temptation this time, she stroked the soft, furry skin with the fingertips of her other hand. 

“Tell me.”  She’d given up demanding and moved on to coaxing as the empty ache inside her grew.  She wanted him.  All she needed was for him to admit the same and they could move on to the main event.  “Just tell me.”

Those roving hands slithered into the loose curtain of hair and shoved it away from her face.  “Look at me.”

His strangled tone had her eyes slipping upward with no thought for defiance, and what she saw was enough to steal her breath.  Sharp angles of cheeks, nose and jaw were more marked than ever because of the taut desire stretched over them.

Charlie couldn’t have read it more plainly if it was printed on a billboard in Times Square.  She was the object of this man’s desire.  She was wanted.  He wanted her.

“I want you, Chiara.”  The growling confirmation had the muscles in her lower abdomen clenching painfully.  “I hate it, but I can’t do a goddamn thing to stop it.”

Blissful satisfaction only fueled her yearning and Charlie was ready to go in search of the explosive completion that they both craved. 

She sank down with a quiet hiss as tenacious hands fastened onto her hips and slammed her down fully.  There was nothing left of him that wasn’t inside her and, even though he knew it, he jerked sharply upward to try and burrow deeper.  To crawl inside her and ease the madness they stirred together.

That was the point where Charlie ceded control.  She might have been on top of him, but he drove the tempo and force of his hips and hers.  Slow and hard at first, then faster and not as fierce, then fierce and furious – all as she moaned, whimpered and screamed her pleasure as she climbed toward the distinctive peak one last time.

Recognizing the nails in his back as one final sign of her impending climax, Jon let himself scale the mountain with her and roared along for the ultimate release.

She was nothing more than a boneless heap against his chest after tumbling down the other side, with both of them gasping and Charlie marveling at it all.  Just when she thought sex between them couldn’t be any better or more intense, this is what happened.   He – they – took it so far to the outer limits that she was no longer sure where those outer limits were.

And you’ll never find out.  This is it.

“Kiss me,” came the mumble that distracted her from such thoughts, and Charlie brought her hands under her chest to push against his and rise. 

She shouldn’t make this a thing.  She should just give him his damn kiss as promised and carry on with her hatred.  That’s all he wanted and all he expected.

If only she weren’t so blissfully sated and filled with a childlike wonder at the fact, maybe she could have.  The damn afterglow had her feeling soft and fuzzy enough to risk making that kiss part of a genuine goodbye.

“Thanks for the fun.”  The soft utterance was easily audible in the solitude of the trailer.  “I’m going to miss this.”

Charlie’s lips were even softer than her words when they met his in a remarkably poignant kiss that was unlike any they’d ever shared – or that they ever would.