One Night of Misbehavior

CHAPTER Four



Charlotte wanted to protest, wanted to say she wasn’t that sort of girl, but the words jammed halfway up her throat. She clutched his shoulders and let him kiss her. Cripes, why not tell the truth? At least to herself. He made her feel free and daring, and she wanted him so much it hurt.

He fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, wrenched her bra aside. She groaned against his mouth as he thumbed her aching nipple, tugging and creating the perfect friction. One hand crept up her thigh and under her skirt, palming her buttock and squeezing.

She pulled away from the kiss, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. His hands didn’t leave her skin. He surrounded her with his power, his scent. His determination. Fear should have filled her, but he brought out the femininity in her, made her feel more than a drudge. He made her beautiful. Powerful. And it was heady stuff.

“I don’t suppose you have a condom?” Ms. Feisty to the fore. Oh, yeah.

He muttered something under his breath, seconds before his fingers dipped beneath the band of her panties. Fabric ripped as he cupped her heat. She gripped his shoulders and held on, moaning her pleasure when one finger pushed inside her. Not even the embarrassing liquid squelch of her arousal pulled her from the spell. All she could think about was him filling her, thrusting deep with his hard length.

Impatient for more, she attacked the fastening of his trousers, pleased to find a distinct bulge. “Ash, please.”

He flicked his finger over her *. “Please what?” His gritty voice told her they were both lost causes. Neither of them possessed an ounce of good sense.

“F*ck me. Please, I need you inside me now.”

“I thought we weren’t going to have sex again.”

Her groan was half laugh “This is scratching an itch. Putting out a fire. You started it with your dinner flirtation. Fix it.”

“I didn’t think you’d noticed.” Two fingers pumped into her now, and she sensed rather than saw his grin. Oh Lord. It wasn’t enough.

“More.” She yanked at his zipper, managing to get it open, and scooped his cock out with difficulty. She couldn’t see much in the dark, but she could feel. The sweep of her thumb was greeted with beads of moisture.

“Charlotte, don’t do that. I can’t…let me get a condom.”

She almost cried at the emptiness when he pulled his fingers out of her. He gave her panties a sharp yank, and they came away in his hand. She thought he stuffed them in his pocket but couldn’t be sure.

The rustle of clothing sounded, the crinkle of a foil packet.

“Stand over here,” he said, guiding her to a place with a low brick wall.

The sweet scent of spring flowers wafted to her, a hint of daffodils and erlicheer. Someone’s garden. Then thoughts fled from her head. He turned her to face the wall and lifted her skirt. The evening breeze blew across her bottom, a contrast to the searing heat between her legs.

“Perfect,” Ash said and with a low growl he filled her with one steady thrust.

Her breath caught at the rightness of his possession. She bit down on her lip, the distant sound of a voice, the faint rumble of a passing car reminding her this was a public place where they faced discovery at any second.

As if sensing her desperation, Ash set a fast pace. In and out. Thrust and withdraw, filling the empty spaces inside her.

“Play with your *,” he whispered against her ear. “Make yourself come.”

His directions fired a switch in her. She wanted to please him, and oh, she craved release in the worst way.

One hand gripped her hip, hard enough to leave a bruise. His other hand snaked around her torso, seeking her breast. While her finger slipped back and forth over her flesh, he plucked her nipple, his handling rough and perfect.

Charlotte bit her bottom lip, trying to contain her cries of pleasure. He shoved deep and pinched her nipple hard. Combined with her stroking finger, it was too much, and the coil of sensual tension inside her snapped, exploding, drowning her in the aftermath. Her keening moan seemed to set him off. He drove into her with hard, uncompromising strokes before freezing, balls deep in her rippling flesh, his breaths harsh against her ear.

After a long moment, he pulled out. His clothes rustled as he dealt with the condom and righted his appearance. Charlotte stayed where she was, unsure if her legs would support her without the rigid brick to aid her balance.

“Charlotte, are you okay?”

“Yes.” Her reply emerged sharp. Short. The passion, the languid pleasure still roaring through her veins shocked her. What was it with this man? Without even trying he pushed past her defenses and incited her to riot against good behavior.

“F*ck,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.” He pulled her skirt down to cover her naked bottom and turned her into his arms. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t,” she said, reaching up to place her fingers across his mouth. “Don’t apologize.”

“Okay.” For once, uncertainty coated his voice.

Unable to make out the nuances of his expression in the dim alley, she reached up to kiss him instead. His arms swept around her, crushing her bare breasts against his shirt. But it was his harsh groan of surrender that thrilled her most of all.

They kissed for ages, neither flinching when the click of heels against pavement indicated someone passing the mouth of the alley.

He lifted his lips, pressing his forehead against hers. “I intended to use a bit more finesse with my seduction.”

Charlotte sighed. “I should go home. I want to ring the hospital to check on Gran.” She tugged her bra into place and fumbled with her buttons, praying they were in the right holes. “What happened to my undies?”

“I’m afraid I ripped them.”

“You’re a bit hard on my lingerie, Ash. This is the second time I’ve had to leave the scene of the crime with a bare ass.”

He chuckled as they walked toward his car. “Scene of the crime?”

“Yeah.”

“I have your apricot panties at home.”

Charlotte chewed on her bottom lip as she considered what that meant. It wasn’t the behavior of a man on a one-night stand, or maybe it was. She had no idea since she and her stepsisters never discussed this sort of stuff. “I’ll have to start going commando soon,” she said drily as he settled her in the passenger seat. A fact. Elizabeth didn’t pay her much and had only given her a small wage each week at Gran’s insistence.

His grin was pure bad boy as he climbed behind the wheel. “The idea has merit.” His hand landed on her knee and skirted upward in an impudent manner.

“It’s not decent. Proper women do not go about without underwear.” And they shouldn’t leave a trail behind them either. Charlotte fought the instinct to spread her legs and give him full access to her p-ssy. A sharp intake of breath did nothing to clear her lust-filled brain. Resistance is futile. Holy Hannah. She was not letting a rich man rescue her from drudgery. It was too…too Cinderellish.

Traffic was light, and Ash soon pulled up in front of Elizabeth’s house. He undid his seat belt and she stopped him.

“Stay. I can see myself inside.”

“I was hoping I’d get a good night kiss.”

A smile curled her mouth. “You can have one of those.”

His lips against hers drew a sigh, the seductive flicker of his tongue an enticement to sink back under his spell. A revealing groan squeezed past her lips, the kiss taking on an air of desperation. The outside light switched on without warning, the bright beam intruding on their private world.

The front door opened, and Elizabeth stood there. One glimpse of her posture brought a wince in Charlotte. The brewing storm was clear, even from this distance. “I’d better go.” Charlotte opened the door.

“Wait. Give me your cell phone number.”

Charlotte shot a quick glance at Elizabeth, her stomach doing a double pike and spinning into freefall. Bloody hell. She rattled off the number, her hand going to the door.

“You’re going to accept the job with Marlborough Media?”

Somehow. “I promised Gran I would.”

“Good. Can you start on Monday?”

“Okay,” Charlotte said, and she jumped out of the car. Swallowing the nerves buffeting her, she walked toward Elizabeth. Behind her, Ash pulled out of the driveway, the low purr of his vehicle indicating she was alone to face the dragon. Which was what she’d wanted, she reminded herself. Her problem. Her battle.

“You’re late,” Elizabeth snapped.

Charlotte glanced at her watch. “It’s half ten.” Jenny and Rachel stayed out much later. Sometimes they didn’t come home.

“The dishes need doing and the kitchen requires a tidy. Make sure you do it before you go to bed.”

Charlotte nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“You smell of sex,” Elizabeth snapped.

Bother. She’d hoped Elizabeth wouldn’t notice her crumpled appearance, blindingly obvious in the unforgiving hall light. “I’ll go and do the dishes.” A strategic retreat. Make sure she lived to fight another day.

Charlotte rose at six the next morning, even though it had taken her a good hour to return the kitchen to the pristine condition in which she’d left it. No point complaining because Elizabeth would tell her if she didn’t like the way things were done, she could leave.

Breakfast was ready when Elizabeth walked into the kitchen. She inclined her head and actually thanked her for the coffee.

Foreboding rose in Charlotte.

“Come and sit down, Charlotte. We need to talk.”

Charlotte forced herself to walk over to the breakfast table—one foot after the other. The wooden chair scraped across the floor tiles when she pulled it out. Someone had spilt something on the floor. She’d need to mop today. The mundane thoughts helped to keep her panic at bay.

“I talked to Mum after you left and also to the doctors.” Elizabeth’s voice trembled a fraction before steadying. “The doctors say there’s nothing much they can do, except make Mum comfortable. The lupus has compromised her other organs, and she doesn’t have much time left.” She gulped and picked up her coffee with a shaky hand. After one sip, she set the mug down. “The doctors said they’d give her drugs to alleviate the pain. Mum wants to come home, but she requires a nurse or companion.” Elizabeth’s voice broke, her eyes taking on a distinct sheen.

Charlotte interpreted everything Elizabeth didn’t say. Wincing, she weighed the job of her dreams against spending more time with Gran, and it was no contest. “I’ll look after Gran.”

Elizabeth stared at her and, after a pause, nodded. “Thank you. I’ll see to arrangements for bringing her home. I’ll ring the hospital now to see how she is.” She rose and left the kitchen, bypassing the phone on the counter.

An ache spread across Charlotte’s chest then a tear plopped onto the tabletop, and Charlotte realized she was crying. With an impatient hand, she swiped the moisture away and stood decisively. Time to mop the floor. There was no point in sobbing over lost dreams.