Beyond the Orange Moon (Mathews Family Book 2) (12 page)

“I don’t even feel it anymore,” she said, and leaned into him.
 

“You’re walking sideways, Lucy.”
 

She fell into Charlie’s chest with a loud, sexy groan. “My God, you smell so good,” she purred against his shirt.
 

“Thank you,” he said. He looked down just in time to see her look up at him with hooded eyes and a smile that could have killed him if he weren’t ridiculously sober. It had been a long time since such an expression had this kind of effect on him.
 

“Charlie?” she asked, and closed her eyes. “If I don’t tell you something, I think I’m going to explode.”

Charlie smiled down at her adorable face and ran his fingers through her hair. “Explode, huh?”

“You’re going to hate me,” she practically whispered.
 

“I could never hate you, Lucy.”

Lucy nodded and turned her face back into his shirt. “You smell like a man. And woods. Man and woods. That’s you.”
 

“That’s me,” he said, and lifted her from his body, which was betraying him by how hard he was getting at just the sound of her voice. “Let’s get you inside. Where’s your key?”

“I have Grace’s key,” she answered. “She took it off her car keys before she left with your brothers.”

“Check your purse,” he said, and eyed the silver bag in her hand.
 

With a lot of effort, Lucy dug through her purse. “I.D., gum, and lip gloss. No key,” she said, and let the purse fall to her side.
 

Charlie sighed and looked up. It was in her pocket and she was going to need help, he was sure. He imagined going in to get it with his teeth, which only made him harder. “Lucy, where’s the key?”

“In my pants.”

“How the hell did you get anything else in those?”
 

Lucy laughed and fell back into his chest. “A lot of hard work. It’s in my back pocket.”

“Are you going get it?” He placed his hands on the soft skin of her arms.
 

“Get it for me,” she demanded, her voice muffled.
 

Sweet Jesus.
 

He moved his hands from her arms and placed them at the small of her back, before beginning the agonizing descent into her back pockets. “Do you know which one, right or left?” he asked with a shaky breath.
 

Lucy shrugged. “Nope.”

He slid both hands into her pockets and felt a twitch below his belt at the feel of her ass in his hands. The tight leather felt like butter against his skin. He felt around and then sighed, truly exasperated. “There’s no key in either one.”

Lucy turned around and leaned back against him. “Then check the front,” she said, and giggled. “I know it’s in there somewhere.”

“Lucy, you’re killing me,” he groaned.
 

“I know,” she said, a hint of teasing in her voice. She leaned even closer to him and rested her bottom on just the right place. If she hadn’t known the effect she had on him before, she certainly did now.
 

He moved his trembling hands into her front pockets and held his breath as she rubbed against him and twisted her hips into his right hand. His fingers roamed around with very little room in those tight pants until he finally found the key in her right pocket.
 

“Find it?” she asked, breathless.
 

Charlie stilled and tried to control his breathing. “Uh-huh,” he said, and dipped his face to the top of her head to bask in the beautiful scent of her soft hair.
 

“Good.” Lucy pulled at his left hand to free it from her pocket and brought it up to her lips. “You have the best hands,” she admitted, and kissed his fingers. “I still remember the first time I saw them—you have no idea how bad I want them on me now.”

He closed his eyes as she took one of his fingers into her mouth. As she sucked, she rubbed against him harder, each movement unbearably slow.

Charlie pulled his other hand from her pocket and turned her around to gently push her up against the wall. “Lucy, this can’t happen like this,” he said, his breath almost gone.
 

“Take me inside,” she said, ignoring his protests. Lucy stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. She reached up and sucked on his bottom lip before sliding her tongue into his mouth.
 

This is so wrong. So, so wrong.
 

With a long, surrendering groan, he moved his hands to her round bottom and squeezed tight, pulling her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. He pressed her against the door, needing several attempts to unlock it before he heard the click of sweet success.
 

“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen,” she said against his mouth and ran her fingers through his hair.
 

He kicked the door closed behind them and had her up against the wall in one swift movement.
 

“I want you, Charlie,” she breathed.
 

His hands traveled up and squeezed onto the breasts he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind from the moment he met her. He felt her nipples harden through the thin material beneath his palms.
 

She let out a little gasp and thrust against him before throwing her head back. “Take me to my room, Charlie Bear,” she demanded with a drunken chuckle. “I want you inside me.”

Charlie froze and a chill ran up his spine. He moved his mouth from her neck and stared into her eyes. “What did you just say?”

Lucy smiled and put her hands on his face. “I. Want. You,” she repeated with a small laugh.
 

Charlie shook his head. “No … the Charlie Bear thing. Where did that come from?” He slowly released her until her feet were on the floor. “Why did you call me that?”

Lucy shrugged and swayed. “You’re a big, muscular teddy bear. You’re gentle … and … I don’t know. It just fits, I guess. Why?”

Charlie felt his face turn cold, washing over with white. What the hell was he doing, anyway? Adorable Lucy was
wasted
—wasted enough to regret this in the morning—and he was sober enough to care.
 

Lucy put her hands on his chest and looked at him with confusion. “Don’t stop, Charlie.”

He lifted one of her hands and kissed her open palm. “I can’t do this, Lucy. You’re drunk and I’m not that guy.”

“I’m not that drunk,” she said, her mouth gaping.
 

“Yes, you are,” he said, amused. That was a typical drunk statement if ever he had heard one.
 

“So, you’re just going to leave me like this?”
 

“Tomorrow, you’ll thank me.” Charlie stepped back and put his hands in his pockets, trapping them from reaching out to her. He shook his head and frowned. “You’re better than this, and so am I.”

“Well, fuck you and good night, Charlie Mathews,” she slurred. She pushed past him and headed to what he assumed was her bedroom.
 

He winced at the sound of her slamming door and leaned against the wall. He raked his hand through his hair and shook his head with a frustrated growl. What the hell was he doing? He should’ve known that wouldn’t end well.
 

Wait … and how the hell did she know his last name?
 

He headed back to her room and opened the door. “Lucy? How did you—”
 

But she couldn’t answer. On the bed, she lay flat on her stomach, her back slowly moving up and down with each long breath she took. She was already out cold.

He stood for a minute and took in the sight of her. He slowly bent down and slid off her shoes. He considered taking off her pants, too, but decided against it; he had already groped her enough for one evening.
 

He walked into the kitchen and, after opening every cupboard, he found a glass to fill with water. Next to a jar of pens, he noticed a bottle of aspirin and shook out two.
 

He walked back into her room and put the water and aspirin on her nightstand. After taking a few steps back toward the door, he stared at her for a few painful seconds. He wanted to crawl into that bed and tell her exactly why he couldn’t do all of the things he wanted to do to her. She wouldn’t understand in her state of mind, anyway.
 

He left with his thoughts still racing.
 

It was going to be a long, sleepless night after he took the freezing cold shower he needed.
 

Chapter Six

Lucy sat up and groaned at the throbbing in her head. “Ugh,” she cried out and flopped back down. She opened one eye and stared at the water and aspirin on her nightstand. “Thank God,” she said, and grabbed both with one hand. She didn’t know how they got there, but she was thankful to find them.
 

“Morning,” Grace grumbled from the bedroom door. She walked in and collapsed onto Lucy’s bed. “I think I’ve barfed seventy times.”

“Don’t say barf,” Lucy demanded. She popped the aspirin into her mouth and fell back into the fetal position.
 

“Scoot over,” Lydia said, and slid in between Lucy and Grace. She turned onto her side and nuzzled up to Lucy’s back. “That little bitch called in again. Lydia’s Delights is closed today.”

“You can’t do that,” Lucy complained. “It’s Saturday morning.”

“I don’t care,” Lydia groaned. “I need to fire that cat-loving piece of crap.”

“We can do this.” Lucy patted her cousin’s head. “I’ll help you.”

“I think I’m going to die,” Grace said. “I drank like a frat boy last night.”

As the fuzziness subsided and flashes of the night before came rushing back to her, Lucy covered her eyes and scowled. “You left me!”

Grace laughed as she shimmied down into the covers. “You said you didn’t want to be around Charlie, so you were going to take a cab, but then Charlie didn’t leave with us; he wanted to stay with you.”

“That certainly blew up in your face,” Lydia said with a giggle.
 

“I was surprised when we got to his house and he was already there,” Grace said. “I thought for sure he’d spent the night here.”

“Wait.” Lucy sat up and leaned against her headboard. She pulled a down pillow into her lap and tried to subdue the bile rising in her throat. “What?”

Both Lydia and Grace burst into laughter.
 

It was annoying and Lucy wanted them to explain before she killed them both.
They
went to Charlie’s? “What the hell are you talking about?”
 

“Relax,” Lydia said. “We weren’t there for Charlie. I wish I had seen him first, but he’s all yours.”

“I hope you don’t mind, Lucy, but I filled Lydia in on the drama on the way home.” Grace cringed. “I’m still drunk, so I get a pass for having a big mouth.”

“I don’t care,” Lucy sighed. “He hates me.”

“Why?” Grace asked carefully. “Did you tell him?”

Lucy thought about that for a minute, because she really didn’t know. She remembered that it had been right on her tongue at one point. “No, I don’t think so. But I did throw myself at him and literally said the words ‘I want you inside me.’”

“Wow,” Lydia said, through a burst of laughter. “You just got right to the point, huh?”

Lucy buried her face in her hands as the night replayed in her head. “Oh my God,” she groaned, mortified. “I made him dig the key out of my front pocket and then shoved my tongue down his throat.”

“Nice move,” Lydia teased.
 

“And he denied you?” Grace asked with shock all over her face. “That man has some serious self-control. I like him so much.”

Lucy lifted her head and stared at her closet doors as the memory of her saying “Fuck you” came back to haunt her. “I’m never going to see him again.”

“That’s probably a good thing, Lucy,” Grace said quietly.
 

“I know that, Grace. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Lucy rested her head on the headboard and blew out a deep breath. “What about you? When did you get home?”

Lydia and Grace snuck looks at each other and laughed. Their little inside jokes were getting under Lucy’s skin and she was about to punch them both. She hated being the outsider, especially when there were Mathews men involved.
 

Grace stopped laughing when she saw the look on Lucy’s face. “We just got home.”

“You spent the night there?” Lucy asked incredulously. “With Charlie’s brothers?”

Lydia piped up. “Not exactly.”

Lucy groaned and threw her hands in the air. “Today, girls!”

“Okay!” Lydia shot back.
 

Grace sighed and sat up to lean against the headboard. “We got back to Charlie’s house and hung out in the living room for a little while.” She paused to look at Lydia. “And this girl right here passed out on the couch. Like, she was snoring and everything.”

Lydia intervened, pointing at Grace. “Yeah, and then this girl right here decided to hook up with the guy that I originally left with!”