Page 79 of Business Casual
Charlie reaches over and closes his hand around mine, tugging my zipper up until it’s tight against my neck.
“Nova,” he says carefully, eyes straight ahead. “Enough with the zipper.”
“Is my stained Blondie T-shirt tempting to you?”
His eyes slant down to mine. “You are tempting to me.”
The bus drives off and Charlie steps off the curb. He doesn’t wait for me to cross with him, two of my steps for every one of his.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you walk so fast.”
“I’m highly motivated,” he tosses over his shoulder.
Motivated until we’re on the same street as my house, and the entire sidewalk is blocked by a gaggle of geese, their dark heads bobbing as they waddle their way across the pavement. There must be a hundred of them, squawking and hissing at each other. We both stumble to a stop, Charlie’s hand curled around my bicep as he tucks me halfway behind him.
“What the fuck is happening?” he mutters. “What the fuck is this?”
“It looks like a gaggle of geese.”
“Is it every goose on the Eastern Seaboard?”
Possibly. It’s certainly a lot of them. I think they’re going for the fountain on the other side of the street. Charlie tries to step forward, and the one closest to us flaps its wings in warning. The goose right behind it hisses.
I grab the back of his coat and tug him back, my arm wrapped around his middle. “It’s probably best to wait them out.”
Charlie grunts and drops his head back, his jaw and the line of hisneck in stark relief against the bright blue sky. I feel a swoop low in my belly.
“If we’re waiting, you’re going to need to stop staring at me like that,” he mutters, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Like what?”
“Like you’ve got ideas.”
I blink innocently and his whole face collapses into something serious and strained. Twilight eyes. Middle of the night, Charlie above me in bed eyes. Tense jaw and a lock of dark hair over his forehead. A man pushed to the very edge. The lovely, unrestrained version of Charlie. The one that was missing when he walked into my studio this morning.
“I have lots of ideas,” I say, voice low. He makes a faint pleading sound. I laugh. “I told you. I can’t stop thinking about all the things we didn’t get to do.” I trail a single finger over his knuckles. “Would you like to hear about them?”
He grabs my hand with his and starts to tow us through the geese. One snaps at my ankle, and I make an embarrassing squeaking noise, pressing myself closer to Charlie. His hand tightens on mine and he walks faster. “You can tell me all about your ideas at your house.”
“If a goose bites me, you’re not going to hear anything.”
“Do geese bite?”
“I better not find out.”
The geese don’t bite, but they aren’t happy with Charlie steamrolling a path through them. I press my grin into the space between his shoulder blades as he grumbles and curses under his breath, his hand reaching behind him to anchor in the front of my jacket, keeping me close. Once we’re free of the gaggle, Charlie tugs at me until I’m in front of him, marching us the rest of the way down my block and up my front steps like he can’t wait a second more.
We collapse through my front door and immediately grab for eachother, my hands pushing his jacket off his shoulders while his fingers yank at my zipper. Something tears, a button goes flying across the hallway, and I laugh into his chin. We are a blur of grasping hands and fumbling kisses, uncoordinated and messy and tripping over one another.
“You should have told me sooner,” he mumbles against my mouth, one hand working at his belt, the other cupped around the back of my head. I sigh and slip my cold hands beneath his thick sweater, the material bunching at my wrists. I trace his sides, his chest, the smooth muscles of his abdomen. His body goes rigid and then relaxes, a string pulled until it gives. He abandons his pants and grips my chin instead, holding my face to his.
“What?” I gasp into his mouth.
“You should have told me you wanted me again.” He drags wet kisses down my jaw to my neck, nipping at the curve of my shoulder where he yanks my T-shirt to the side. I arch and press myself harder to him. “I would have given you anything you wanted, Nova.”
I know he would have. But I want him to take what he wants too. I guide him backward until the backs of his knees hit the couch in my living room, pushing at his shoulders until he collapses. He stares up at me, legs sprawled wide, his big body taking up a majority of the couch. His sweater is half pushed up his stomach, revealing a trail of dark hair beneath his belly button. I like him like this, loose leather belt and the press of his cock against his pants. Thoroughly undone. I drag my tongue along my bottom lip.
He pats his knee once. I grin.
