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He met her on the stairs up to his apartment. Sam knew the second he answered the phone that she needed him. Perhaps that was his lot in life. To be the one who always caught her. The one she ran to. Would it be enough? The aching response of his body when he scooped her against his chest told him it was not. If it came to this or nothing? Was he strong enough to endure? He knew he would have to be. What else could he do?
Charlotte did not speak, and he did not ask her to. She walked up and placed her face to his chest, sliding her arms around his waist. She was shaking, and a salty, lingering scent gave away the secret of her tears. It felt as natural as breathing to lift her against his chest and take her inside.
Sam set her down at the door, bending to remove her boots. She lifted each foot like a child, allowing him to slip them off. After Charlotte was free of her jacket, Sam hung it on the hook. Then he took her hand, leading her down the hall to the stairs, up to his bedroom. She said nothing, silent and still beside the tremors that wracked her limbs. If ever for a second she doubted his intentions, it never showed. Her tear-swollen eyes were half-closed as if she could not stand to keep them open.
Sam pulled back the quilt on his bed and tugged her over. When she crawled inside, he tucked the blankets tight around her and switched off the lamp. Taking his pillow, he turned.
“Where are you going?” Her voice was rough.
Sam paused. “Downstairs to sleep on the couch.”
“Stay with me, please,” she whispered. The words floated to Sam through the darkened room.
He should say no, but the loneliness in her voice drove a spike into his heart. He nodded and eased under the blankets at her side, cocooning them both in the cloud against the chill.
Sliding one hand under her knees, he folded her up against his warmth. The palm of his free hand stroked her tangled hair until the shaking in her limbs subsided. She fell into sleep like a stone in a pond, instantly submerged. It didn’t matter to Sam that she hadn’t spoken besides that simple plea. He had never needed words to understand Charlotte. Lying engulfed in her smell, the warmth of her body against his, Sam drifted back to sleep.
***
When Sam blinked awake, a grey shrouded sun hung like a stubborn balloon outside the window. He lay still, disoriented by the comfort of Charlotte tucked tight against him. For someone who had never understood the appeal of lying in bed late into the morning, Sam knew he would be content to stay there for hours. The muscles in his back ached, but he ignored them. If he moved, Charlotte may stir and feel the evidence of how much he enjoyed waking to her ass pressed against him.
Charlotte, with her knack for timing, chose that moment to yawn and stretch. Like a cat, she arched her body backward, pressing her ass right into his raging hard-on. A moan escaped Sam before he could stop it. His face heated and, though he hadn’t thought it possible, he grew harder. Charlotte stilled, the shuddery jerk of her gasp bouncing around the silent bedroom. Then, tentatively, she pressed back into him again.
Sam put a hand on her hip, unsure if he meant to stop her or pull her tighter to him. A shiver ran through Charlotte and made the twirls of hair clinging to his pillow shudder. The bone of her hip curved under his fingers, her t-shirt hiked up so the tips rested against her taut skin. He would only have to slide his hand forward... Sam stopped the thought in its tracks. Neither of them moved. They lay halted, sensibilities battling with needy bodies. Charlotte wanted him. At that moment, Sam didn’t doubt the fact. Her body hummed beneath his touch, and the chilled air in his bedroom was thick with the musk of sleep and desire.
He could lay still no longer. Good sense and morals could only prevail for so long. He moved, and it should have been away from Charlotte. It should have been off the bed and out of the room. He should do something, think about anything else to ease the incessant ache. Instead, he spread his hand open across the gentle curve of her abdomen. Pressed her back and upward until his erection lodged so tight against her ass, he saw stars.
Charlotte whimpered, her head lolling back on the pillow, exposing her throat to his searching lips. Beneath the caramel of her skin, her jugular pulsed. Sam groaned and dipped his head forward, dragging his teeth over that pulsing evidence of her desire. Pressed his mouth to the fluttering throb just beneath the surface of her sweet skin. Her hips bucked, and she hissed in a breath. Sam’s world narrowed to only Charlotte, the heat of their bodies between the blankets that shielded them and the desperate need clawing through his abdomen.
Placing her hand atop Sam’s, Charlotte guided his fingers lower, a moan moving through her chest when he reached the juncture of her thighs.
“Lord, Charlotte.” Sam’s voice was rough as gravel. “I want you.”
“Please.” The word came out as a sob, and she pressed into his exploring fingers. His touch slipped over the slickness of her folds as he searched out and discovered the tiny knot hiding there.
“Oh.” It was half-word, half-purr, signalling his success in finding what he sought. Sam used his thumb and pointer to pluck at her. She arched, moaning as she thrust her hips against his hand. Her ass rubbed the length of Sam’s aching cock, and he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the urge to come right there.
Without warning, Charlotte rolled, pinning his body beneath her. He could feel the wet heat of her through the cotton pajama pants he regrettably still wore. “Oh, please, no sudden movements,” he groaned. “I’m scared I’ll embarrass myself.”
Charlotte answered by leaning forward to slide her lips across his. At the same time, she rubbed herself against his hard length. Her nipples were hard as pebbles against his chest, and Sam’s mouth watered with the need to taste them. He grabbed her hips and stilled her. “Stop,” he rasped. “I don’t want this to end with me in wet pants like an adolescent. I want you so bad, Chuck.”
“Please, tell me”—she sat back, staring down at him through the dark curtain of her hair—“that you have a condom this time.”
All Sam could do was nod toward the bedside table. Charlotte leaned over. He seized her thighs to steady her and to anchor himself as he fought for control. As Charlotte fumbled with the box, his cell buzzed on the table. Charlotte glanced down at the phone, then frowned, going still.
“Ignore it.” Sam seized a handful of her ass and squeezed to augment his argument. Charlotte ignored him and picked up the phone.
“Sam,” she said, her voice strained.
“Yes?”
“Who is Jane and why is she, quote ‘coming commando to your date tonight?’”
“Shit.” Sam groaned and rubbed a trembling hand over his face.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she whispered, her brown eyes huge.
“No, I’ve only gone out with her twice,” Sam said, shaking his head and fighting to think over the pounding of his heart and the angry protests of his cock.
“Enough times, apparently, for her to feel comfortable enough to leave her panties at home.”
“Charlotte.”
“You’re here, doing this to me, last night, telling me all the things you told me... And you have a woman waiting for you?” Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t look away. “You were supposed to be one of the good ones, Sam.”
“It’s not like that.” Sam reached a hand to her cheek, but Charlotte jerked away.
“Oh, God.” She rolled off him and onto her feet, adjusting her clothing. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think about anything. Every time I turn around, there is something new hiding behind the fucking corner.”
As if to illustrate the point, her cell phone sprang to life. Closing her eyes for a moment, Charlotte turned and fished it out of her jeans pocket.
“It’s the hospital.” She raised it to her ear. “Hello?”
Sam tried to hear but could make out nothing more than a tiny squeak from the other end.
Charlotte nodded. “Yes, I see. That sounds good. Thank you so much, Doctor Burke.”
Sam winced at the name, shame burning hot as acid in his chest.
She hung up the phone and stared down at it. “I’ve got to go. They are releasing my dad.”
Sam sat up. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, I think... I think I need space from you, Sam. I’ve got to get Dad settled. They want to give him a home nurse for the next bit, and I have to pick up things for the house to help him be comfortable. I just...I need to clear my head.”
“Charlotte, please text me if you need help with anything. I’m serious.” Sam caught her eyes and refused to let her look away. “I love your dad like my own. I want to know how he’s doing.”
The tear welled in her eyes, and she turned from him, nodding. “I know.”
“Chuck.” He stopped her again as she was about to leave the room.
“Yeah?”
“Jane, she’s my... she’s my Charles. She’s that attempt at something, you know?”
She stopped, half in the room, halfway out, but nodded again. “I’ll do some thinking, Sam. I promise. Once this all settles down.”
Sam swallowed hard. He desperately wanted to grab her, beg her to let him come with her to the hospital. She shouldn’t have to do this alone. However, he knew the depths of her stubbornness and knew that he had hurt her again.
“Bye, Chuck,” he said. He wasn’t sure if she heard him. The front door closed a minute later, and Sam sank back on his bed, both palms pressed to his forehead.