Public Displays of Affection

  Her laugh died. Her whole body shuddered. “Joe—”

  “I only wish I’d found you sooner.”

  “I wasn’t ready to be found, Joe.” She smiled sadly at him. “I married Kurt. I had the kids I was supposed to have. I wasn’t ready for you to find me.”

  “Until now,” he said.

  “Until now,” she said.

  His other hand reached up to stroke the line of her jaw. She turned into his touch, rubbed into his palm, and closed her eyes at the pleasure in that simple gesture.

  “I’ve been watching you, baby.”

  His voice was low and rough and Charlotte gazed down to see his expression full of need. She nodded. “Okay—”

  “I’ve watched you work in your garden, eat with your kids. I’ve seen how much you love them, how much you give them.” Joe paused and made sure his eyes were locked on hers. “Tonight wasn’t the first night I’ve watched you with my binoculars. I’ve seen you masturbate, Charlotte.”

  A hum of terror moved through her body, starting at her toes and rushing up to her brain until she feared her head would explode. He’d seen her?

  “I watched you write in your diary the other night. I watched you make yourself come.”

  “Oh, my God!” She tried to get up. His hand clamped down on her thigh.

  “It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen a woman do in my entire life. I love how hot you are, Charlotte.”

  She barely had the courage to look at him. Kurt had been so disgusted with her that he couldn’t even discuss this, and Joe thought she was hot?

  “What were you writing about, baby? Tell me.” His fingers continued their soft slide into the vee of her legs.

  “I… nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Poetry. I write a little poetry.” Her heart hammered and her hands began to sweat.

  “Really? What kind of poetry?” He stroked the sensitive skin at the juncture of her legs, and his touch felt like magic, like a familiar dream….

  “Erotic poetry—” she breathed, arching her neck with the pleasure. “About you and me, mostly.”

  His fingers spread, separating the puffy lips of her sex. She could feel herself opening to him as her legs fell apart, her arms fell to her sides—hands loose and palms up. Her breath was coming fast and shallow.

  “Do you have any memorized?” Joe sat up and leaned close. His hand remained just at the opening of her, toying with her, teasing her until she knew she was wetter than the kitchen faucet.

  “Of course I have them memorized. I wrote them—ahh!” His finger scarcely brushed over her erect clitoris and she saw black spots dance in her vision.

  “I want to hear one. The hottest one you’ve ever written. Give it to me.” His soft lips were grazing her face, her temples, her hair, the side of her neck…

  She was having trouble concentrating. “How about something short and to the point?”

  He chuckled against the juncture of her neck and shoulders, and his goatee tickled her. Then his fingers slid more purposefully over her clit, and she gasped.

  “Go for it,” he said.

  “It’s called ‘Nice Pants.’”

  “I like it already. Let’s hear it.” His warm lips and tongue were now trailing down her shoulder to her upper arm, the robe falling away as he went, his fingers still coaxing her, pinching her, flicking at her.

  She could barely get the words to form. “ ‘ Nice Pants,’ by Charlotte Tasker,” she whispered. Just then, a finger slid inside her and she bucked from the invasion.

  “I’m listening,” he said, his voice muffled by the flesh of her breasts.

  “It’s only two lines….”

  Two long fingers slid into her. “Uh-huh.”

  His lips and teeth tugged on a nipple while she felt what she swore were at least eight fingers all over her between her legs—on her clitoris, inside her pussy, pressing into her bottom.

  She rose up so he could get at anything he might want; then she shouted out:

  “Nice pants.

  Take them off!”

  Joe’s laughter rumbled into her skin as she came. He was all over her then, wrapped around her, holding her tight as she rode through the rough pleasure. It was intense, complete, and so familiar.

  When she regained some sense of where she was, Charlotte noticed Joe struggling to remove his boxers. She gave him a hand, then put both hands on his ass.

  “You have real talent, Charlotte.”

  She giggled. “So do you, Joe.”

  His mouth crushed hers. She drowned in his kiss, his heat. And as he untied her belt and slid the robe completely from her body, Charlotte felt the years fall away, felt her heart come to life and her body unfurl like a flower. In her mind’s eye that’s exactly what she witnessed: Charlotte Tasker, business owner, scout leader, widowed mother of two, was a deep red rose captured in time-lapse photography, opening into full bloom in this man’s hands—only for this one man.

  Joe broke the kiss to cradle her face and look her square in the eye. “You were a virgin that day, but you came so much. You can’t help it, can you, Charlotte? You really are a sex goddess. You were made for sex, weren’t you?”

  She nodded, so full of desire, so ready for whatever he was about to ask of her—and so excited by the way he spoke to her.

  It seemed that Joe was as raw with his words as he was thirteen years before—raw power, raw sexuality. She thanked God that the years hadn’t changed that.

  “I want you to do something for me.” Joe broke out into a lopsided grin. “Will you?”

  She nodded again.

  “I want you to be the little soccer mom slut that you really are.”

  Charlotte heard her own gasp, felt the lightning bolt of sexual greed strike her down.

  “Nobody will know. It’ll be our secret. Just be who you really are, for me, tonight, because I have to tell you, Charlotte—I fuckin’ love it.”

  Joe eased her down onto the SpongeBob sleeping bag, covered her with the hard glory of his body, and kissed her ferociously, his lips crushed against hers. Charlotte welcomed Joe into her arms, into the arms of the little slut she was.

  Chapter Nineteen

  How could a man feel so grounded and be flying at the same time? Joe couldn’t grasp it, but there he was, inside Charlotte at long last, flesh to flesh, his body soaring through space even as his heart hit the ground with an audible thud.

  He was home.

  Charlotte was with him, right there with him, her eyes locked on his as he took her. He felt the force of her welcome, her love, as her legs opened wide beneath him.

  The impulse to drive into her was unstoppable. The surge of power that coursed through him was equaled only by tenderness he felt for her. She was his safe haven, his perfect fit, his lover. And he would die before he’d let her go again.

  Joe smiled when she shouted out his name. She’d been shouting his name so often and with so much gusto that he feared she’d wake everyone in Hayden Heights. He tried to keep his mouth on hers but couldn’t stop himself from occasionally making a detour to bite those tasty cherry nipples.

  He also needed to keep his mouth free to talk to her. It didn’t take a genius to see that words did the trick for Charlotte. Every time he said something even remotely racy to her, her eyes flashed and her body clenched him tight.

  “Come for me, you beautiful, sweet, sexy little soccer mom slut.”

  There she went again, his cock the lucky recipient of the wet velvet vise treatment he hoped to God would be his for the taking the rest of his life.

  “You can’t stop, can you, Charlotte? Tell me you want some more.”

  He reached down into the slippery juncture of their bodies and found the hard little peak uncovered by her position. He circled his fingertip around it.

  “I want more!” She wrapped her legs around his butt and squirmed to meet his thrusts.

  “How much more?”

  “I want everything! I want you, Jo
e!”

  He slammed his lips on hers, his wide mouth engulfing her from her silky upper lip to her adorable chin. He felt her bring her arms around his body and squeeze. He tasted tears, but he didn’t know which of them was crying. And he kissed her hard and breathed her in and got lost in the scent of their union—skin and sweat and summer air and honeysuckle—and knew this was the only real thing he’d ever known. He soared higher and then exploded inside her—giving her everything. He gave her himself. Just as she’d asked.

  They hung on to each other in the single flashlight beam. Joe felt his skin fused to hers. He felt her breath against the side of his neck and her heart beating wildly beneath him.

  Charlotte trembled, and he rolled until her small body stretched out on top of him. She burrowed her face in the crook of his neck and the tears trickled down his shoulder.

  “Tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

  She sniffled. He stroked her hair.

  “I was thinking that I’m glad. I’m just so damn glad I wasn’t making it up all these years!”

  Joe laughed, hugging her tight. “Neither of us made it up. It was all real.” He pulled a strand of damp hair from the side of her face and kissed her hot cheek. “It still is.”

  “I needed this, Joe.”

  “I did, too.”

  “You have no idea how much I needed it. How long I’ve needed it.”

  “Tell me.”

  Charlotte pushed herself up on her arms and looked down at him. Her face was relaxed, open, and a wistful smile played on her mouth. In the strange light inside the tent, she seemed to glow from the inside.

  “I loved Kurt and he loved me. He was a wonderful man and a great father. But this wasn’t important to him.” She glanced down at their bodies still joined. “Sex wasn’t important to my husband.”

  Joe wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. “Want to repeat that?”

  Charlotte pushed herself up until she straddled him. He was still inside her, growing soft and malleable, but enjoying the sensation of her heat. The peace.

  She nonchalantly pulled her hair back off her face and tied it in a knot on top of her head, a move that put her breasts on display. He was in love with her breasts. He wanted to know what they felt like full of milk when she was pregnant with his child. He wanted to drink hot milk from her and then lie down next to her in the spoon position, holding those full breasts in his hands while he took her from behind.

  “Kurt was not a very sexual man.”

  Joe blinked. He had heard right.

  “I was frustrated through my whole marriage, Joe. I felt immoral because I wanted it so much more than he did. The only thing that kept me going all those years was fantasies about…” Charlotte dropped her gaze and shook her head gently. He reached up and lifted her chin.

  “Tell me.”

  “You. I fantasized about you, Joe. All the damn time.”

  There was something seriously wrong with the concept that any married woman—especially a beautiful, sexual, loving woman like Charlotte—had to rely on fantasy for satisfaction.

  “Was your husband gay?”

  Charlotte scrunched up her pretty mouth and shook her head. “You know, I wondered that a couple times, but I really don’t think so. It was more his personality. His upbringing. He never wanted to talk about sex. He never wanted to experiment—be adventurous with me. He never saw sex as the gift it really is.”

  She shrugged, letting her fingers fiddle with Joe’s chest hair. It was such a small thing—but so intimate—that his breath caught.

  “I think he was ashamed when I asked him for things he couldn’t or wouldn’t do. He was ashamed of me. And over time, I became ashamed of myself.”

  Joe was getting hard again. “Details, please.” He brought his hands around to cup her sweet behind.

  With a tilt of her head and a wicked little grin, Charlotte said, “You aren’t anything like Kurt when it comes to sex, are you, Joe?”

  “Doesn’t appear that way.” He pinched her plump little ass. She yelped and squirmed on him. Joe was getting stiffer, quick.

  Her voice became a soft whisper. “Once, I got the courage to ask him to spank me.”

  He was at full attention now. “And he didn’t?”

  “He said he felt foolish.”

  Joe smacked her butt—real hard. She squirmed again and let out a contented sigh. So he did it again. He frowned as if in deep thought, then smiled. “Nope—I just double-checked and I don’t feel the least bit foolish.”

  Charlotte’s laugh disappeared into a moan when he spanked her again, then again. She gazed down at him with a hot, half-lidded look of lust. Her hair had slipped down out of its knot and fell in straight shiny strands around her face.

  This woman clearly needed to be fucked some more.

  “And once, I asked him to tie me up,” she whispered.

  Joe licked his lips, wondering if the SpongeBob sleeping bag had string ties. “Too foolish?”

  “No. He said he respected me too much to despoil me or treat me in such a sadistic way.”

  The guy was definitely gay.

  “Well, baby, I’ll tell you what.” Joe smoothed his palms over her bottom, the flesh hot from spanking. “I would consider it an honor to tie you spread-eagle to the bed and despoil you until you can’t see straight—in a completely respectful way, of course.”

  As they moved in unison with laughter, Charlotte made a smooth segue into raising and lowering her body on his cock. Before Joe could anticipate it, she was riding him with purpose and he was back in serious fucking mode, as if he hadn’t just come a few minutes ago.

  This woman made him crazy. He had to slow down. He clamped his hands on her thighs to keep her still.

  “You can always tell me what you need, Charlotte. If it works for you, it’ll automatically work for me.”

  “Thank you, Joe.”

  “I love how passionate you are, how sexual you are. You don’t have to hold back anymore. Ever.”

  She pushed his hands away without further comment and moved on him, varying her tempo and pressure and angle to coax the pleasure, drag it to its acute phase. She was a marvel, a redheaded vixen who seemed quite pleased with her official sex goddess status. It was obvious from the gleam in her eye and her self-satisfied smile. With a sigh, she lowered herself down on him, pressing her breasts against his chest.

  Joe stroked her hair, delighting in the cool, silky feel of it slipping between his fingers. “Did you ever ask for anything else?”

  She let go with a small laugh. “Well, one night, I asked him for one of my favorite fantasies.” Charlotte left little kisses along Joe’s throat as her lower half undulated over him.

  “I can’t wait to hear this one.” He nibbled at her neck.

  Charlotte stopped moving and simply laid her head on his chest. “It wasn’t wild, Joe. I just asked him to sleep with me under the stars. Naked. I wanted to make love under the stars. That’s all.”

  Joe had to close his eyes against the sadness that swept through him. He almost didn’t want to know the answer to the question he was about to ask—he wasn’t sure he could bear to hear it.

  “Please tell me your husband did that for you, sweetheart.”

  “He tried.” Charlotte rubbed her cheek against Joe’s shoulder. “We got out here in the backyard and he couldn’t… he was just too worried and embarrassed—”

  That was it. Joe saw it happen in his mind—he’d just handed his heart to Charlotte Tasker on a platter. He just silently uttered the words, Here it is. It’s not much, but it’s all yours. And right then, he knew that whatever she might ask of him, it would be his honor to do it. As her man, it would be his job.

  A job he desperately wanted.

  Joe sat up, tucked Charlotte’s legs around his waist, and told her to hang on. He stood, grabbed the sleeping bag, and unzipped the tent door.

  “You and me and SpongeBob got some love to make,” he said.

  J
oe tossed the sleeping bag on the grass and stood with Charlotte still attached to his naked body. He could feel her giggling. “Now, tell me exactly what you want, sweetheart.”

  She lightly touched his hair, then his cheek, then the smooth, clean lines of his goatee. It amazed her that he was so eager to please. She felt the tears build again but saw no reason to force them down—nothing she’d revealed so far had scared Joe away. Maybe nothing ever would. “What I want—what I really, really want—”

  “Tell me.” He pressed his soft lips to hers. “Tell me everything.”

  “I want to feel the power of you and me. I want you inside me, part of me. I want to look up and see your face surrounded by a thousand stars. I want to know that it’s true—that we were supposed to be together.”

  “Comin’ right up.” Joe supported their combined weight on one arm as he lowered her back to the sleeping bag. He pushed inside her, gazing down at the woman beneath him, her pale skin glowing in the night, her eyes as bright as the brightest star in the heavens.

  “I’ll never leave you again, Charlotte.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  “I want to love you.”

  “I want to love you back.”

  Charlotte smiled up at him, then felt her eyelids slide shut at the consuming pleasure, feeling Joe going deep, deeper than she’d ever allowed a man to go, deep into her secret heart, her secret passion, her secret self.

  She felt the truth and opened her eyes in time to see that Joe felt it, too.

  “Let me do that, Joe.”

  “Nope. No deal, soccer mom.”

  Charlotte sat at her own kitchen table feeling quite useless. She took another sip of the coffee Joe had poured for her a moment ago, watching him root around in the cabinets for the stove’s griddle attachment and then hunt for plates, utensils, and ingredients stored on pantry shelves.

  “Organic stone-ground whole wheat pancake mix?” Joe held up the box and frowned as he read the directions. “What’s that gonna do for us, exactly?”

  “It’s a complex carbohydrate. More fiber and vitamins than white flour. Plus there’s oat bran in it.”