Charity For Nothing: The Virtues Book III (8 page)

“Where’s Cutter?” Hope called.

“Locking down the shutters with Pyro, Radar, and Marlin,” Stoker called. I handed him a plate and he smiled, inclining his head once in thanks.

A little bit later Marlin, followed by Cutter, Pyro, and Radar came through the front door dripping in Gordon’s Fisherman yellow rain slickers and hats.

“Fuck, its bad out there!” Cutter declared, “Radar, go do your thing.”

Radar nodded, “Soon as I dry off I’m on it. Hey Charity, mind fixing me a plate?”

“Sure,” I murmured and went to do just that.

Eventually people were settled around the huge dining table eating, Radar set up at one end on three laptops scrolling and clicking through screens.

“What’s the word?” Cutter asked.

“Not as bad as it’s gonna get, Cap. It’s still early.”

I felt bad for Nothing, weathering the storm all by himself. It wasn’t a time to be alone so I made a decision. I quietly went about packing up some Tupperware and while everyone was gathered around Radar and his laptops looking at what he was pointing out on the three screens, I ghosted upstairs with my haul and brought out one of my extra bags. I packed up dry clothes, a couple of towels and the food and slung it over my shoulder. I tucked my phone into one of the side pockets, made sure my room was neat and presentable and with a nod, took up my keys. My heart fluttered erratically in my chest. It really
was
bad out there and I didn’t exactly want to drive in it, but I couldn’t fathom Nothing being all alone. It just didn’t sit well with me. It didn’t feel right.

I slipped out the front door in my Keds and shut it firmly behind me. My summer dress was plastered to me in the matter of half a second. Undeterred, I bolted across the driveway and flung open the door of my Jeep, throwing in my bag and diving inside. A gust of wind battered my vehicle, rocking it mercilessly and I gasped. I thought to myself maybe this is a bad idea, even as my hand turned the key and my baby fired up into life.

“Bad idea or not, you’re in it to win it now, Charity.” I told myself. I pressed down on the clutch and shifted it into gear, and with the wipers going full bore, I eased around the circular driveway and hung a right onto the street.

It was a freaking nightmare out here. Wind battered and buffeted my Jeep so hard I thought it would topple over. No one was out here, the streetlights, what few the town had, all seemed to be hanging on by a thread. I squinted through the flying leaves and debris and eased my way through the sheets of rain looking for Everglade to make my turn; crowing in triumph when I spotted it.

I laughed at myself for using my signal. Ft. Royal was a ghost town, there wasn't really a reason to. I inched down Everglade and made the next turn, driving around a fallen palm tree, having to go up onto the sidewalk to make it. This was bad, and I’d like to say that pulling into Nothing’s driveway in front of his closed garage door was enough to ease the knot of anxiety in my chest, but it wasn't. I still had to make it to his front door and hope that he could hear me knocking above the howling and the raging of the growing storm.

I killed the engine and slung my bag over my shoulder, taking a deep breath. Another gust of wind shoved my Jeep from behind and nudged it forward a couple of inches even with the parking brake set. I shuddered and climbed over the center console into the passenger seat which was closer to the house’s front door. I waited for the next crazy gust and when it petered out, leapt out the door and was drenched again before I could slam it shut. I ran, head ducked, for the small front porch and knocked loudly at the front door, huddled in on myself, the thin fabric of my summer dress clinging wetly to my body.

The door opened and Nothing stared down at me, stunned. He grabbed me by the arm and hauled me across the threshold before slamming the door shut behind me and latching it.

“What the fuck are you
doing
here?” he demanded and I looked up, startled.

“I didn’t think you should be alone…”

The anger in his gray eyes softened marginally before he rallied and it came back full force.

“How did you get here?” he demanded.

“I drove, why?”

He put his hands to his head and gripped his hair like he was ready to tear it out, “Why!? It’s a goddamn fucking
hurricane
going on out there, Charity! You could have been hurt, or killed! What in the absolute fuck? Don’t you California girls have any fucking sense?”

“I’m sorry,” I hugged myself and shivered, feeling like a child well and truly admonished.

“Where’s your Jeep?”

“In the driveway.”

“Fuck, give me your keys,” he ordered and held out his hand, waving his long fingers towards him twice. I dropped them in his palm. “Come this way,” he ordered and set off past the living room, hanging a left just before his kitchen and opening the first door in the hall on the left. He went down a couple of steps.

“When I say ‘go’ press that button,” he demanded, pointing to the garage door button next to my head. I nodded and tried not to think about him being shirtless now that my butthurt from being yelled at was wearing off.

“Go,” he ordered and I hit the switch. I wondered vaguely what he’d been waiting for, as the door trundled up and the rain and wind swept in. I bit my lower lip as some things blew off a shelf and out the door. I think I heard Nothing curse as he ran out into the storm and got into my Jeep, pulling it into the garage.

“Shut it!” he yelled and I hit the button, the garage door trundling down, settling into place just as the next big gust knocked into it with a shuddering bang. He got out of my Jeep, shirtless, wet, and dripping; bare feet slapping the smooth concrete of the garage floor. He shook some of his midnight dark hair out of his eyes and burned me with a look.

“I can’t fucking believe you, I can’t fucking believe the guys let you leave like that,” he grated.

“Don’t be mad at them, they don’t know I did.”

“You fucking serious!?”

I swallowed hard, “I’m sorry,” I repeated and hated the feeling that came with the apology. I had apparently fucked up big time, but I hadn’t seen the harm, I mean the storm was just getting started, right?

He pushed past me and I closed my eyes, he was
really
angry, and I guess it was more serious out there than I’d thought. I followed him to the kitchen and stopped, in the middle of his kitchen floor his bike leaned over scattered newspapers. Oil spots dotted the newsprint and the engine was in various stages of pieces under the harsh overhead fluorescent light.

“You work on your motorcycle in your kitchen?” I asked.

“More comfortable than in the garage and it’s not like Corrine is here to bitch at me,” he said irritably, scooping up his phone off the kitchen counter.

“Corrine… is that your late wife?” I asked.

He turned his head to look at me over his shoulder and glared at me. I bit my lips together and hung back in the doorway as he swiped his thumb across the screen in whatever obscure pattern to unlock his phone. I couldn’t see who he was calling, but truthfully, I was distracted by a bead of moisture rolling down his spine.

“Yeah, Cutter. Yeah, I know, she’s here. She fuckin’ drove here, in a hurricane,” he paused, “She’s safe. No, it’s way too bad out there. No, it’s cool man; I got it. Want to talk to her? Doubt it. Yeah. Sure, thing. See you when it’s over.” He hung up and let the phone clatter onto the Formica countertop.

I set down my bag and automatically went to him, hugging him around the waist, resting my head against his back as we both dripped rainwater onto his kitchen floor.

“Please, don’t be mad at me,” I breathed. He put his hand over mine and stood stalk still for a really long time, struggling with some invisible force and I simply stood there, tense. I didn’t want him to be mad at me. I just
really 
didn’t want him to be all alone, either. I think he’d had enough of being alone.

He let out a pent up breath slowly, and as he did, grew less ridged beneath my touch, but only by a little. He turned in the circle of my arms and looked down at me. His hands found my hips and he turned me gently, hauling me up so I sat on the empty counter.

“What were you thinking?” he asked, gray eyes tumultuous.

“I didn’t think, I guess,” I gripped the edge of the counter to either side of my hips and trembled as much from his proximity as from cold. The air conditioning had kicked on and swirled through his kitchen, raising goosebumps on my skin.

He touched the side of my face and I held my breath,
please kiss me,
my mind plead and I think it may have filled my eyes. He frowned, and the anger and frustration swirled behind his eyes.

“I’ll ask you again,
why did you come here
?” he demanded and I felt the tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding ease out of my shoulders.

“I didn’t think you should be alone anymore, not with this,” I raised a hand and waved ineffectually to take in the howling wind and raging rains pattering against the house. It was that and the electric hum of the house’s AC unit and nothing more that hung between us. I could see the war on his face, feel it in the tightly coiled energy of his body, raised just above his skin. He shifted forward and back on his arms, his hands planted firmly on the counter’s edge.

It was like he needed that final little push, to take that leap of faith, except I didn’t know what to do or say to make him comfortable enough to make it. His indecision rose on the air, making it thick, making it hard to breathe; making me hold so very still, like he was a predator in my midst. I swallowed hard and his eyes snapped to my throat, watching the motion. He closed his eyes and bowed his head and I couldn’t resist. I raised a hand slowly and smoothed back his glossy dark hair. His head snapped up, and there must have been something in my eyes because before I knew it, his mouth was on mine and it was everything I had imagined it would be.

Chapter 10

Nothing

I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe
her.
Driving through a fucking hurricane so I wouldn’t be lonely? She had to be out of her fucking mind… and I know for sure it drove me out of mine.
She could have been hurt, she could have been killed, all because of you…
my mind whispered and I, just for once, wanted it to
shut up
.

She tasted so damn
good
, so soft, sweet like whatever she’d last eaten or drunk. My hands found her hips and pulled her hard to the edge of the counter even as I let my tongue delve further into her mouth, taking a reprieve from just
… everything
. Her arms snaked around my shoulders, her fingers burying in the back of my hair as I drew her hard up against my hard on.

Wet jeans and an erection this fierce did
not
get along. I was about to tear my mouth from hers to ask if this was something she wanted, when she answered me wordlessly before I got the chance, her ankles hitting the backs of my knees and pulling me tighter against her body. I groaned into her mouth, and ripped it away.

“Are we doing this?” I managed to spit out and she nodded, her hands smoothing my hair, gone too long between cuts, out of my eyes.

“Yes,” she moaned and it was all I needed. I pulled her off the counter and her flats slapped against my kitchen floor. I spun her around and she fetched up hard against the counter. I winced, but I was too busy moving her wet hair off her shoulders, around to the other side to pay much more notice. I attacked that sweet spot where her neck met her shoulder with lips and teeth, sucking and lightly biting.

“Oh, god!” she moaned and went languid in my arms. I pressed her body against the counter with my own and gripped her dress in my fists to either side, raising the wet material in increments, bunching it in my hands and cursing how it clung wetly to Charity’s soft skin.

You shouldn’t do this, let her go, let her go now and you won’t have been unfaithful.
I shoved the thoughts aside. I wasn’t being unfaithful; you can’t be unfaithful to someone three years and more gone. I knew that in the front of my head, but my heart and the back of my mind begged to differ. Right now, though? Right now I could only concentrate on the woman in my arms. I wanted her, I wanted the warmth and soft solace she’d been offering me and now she was here and we were alone and my weak ass couldn’t hold out anymore.

I craved her; I craved everything about her, from those soft blue eyes, to her gentle touch, to the sweet understanding she’d displayed every time we’d encountered each other so far. I wanted desperately to warm my frozen soul against the fire she had inside, and
fuck
those soft little moans of pleasure she was making. Jesus Christ, they were stripping my control, my last vestiges of sanity away from me with each and every last sweet soft sound out of her lips that were swollen from my kiss.

She’s not Corrine, she’s different; she’s not fragile like your wife…

It was true, and I let myself go, let myself be different with her. She deserved that much, but so too was I afraid of hurting her.

“Tell me to stop if I get too rough,” I said and she damn near broke me with her breathy response.

“Don’t stop, don’t you
dare
stop.”

I raised her skirt up onto her lower back and smoothed my hands over her ass, backing up to admire it. God she was wet, pussy swollen and glittering at her entrance. It didn’t even occur to me that she wasn’t wearing any panties, too involved was I with getting my button fly undone.

Victory!

My cock sprang free of its prison of wet denim; head damn near fuckin’ purple with how hard it was. I ached something fierce with the need to be inside her and I didn’t waste any time.

Oh, fuck.

Her body was hot, tight, and so wet, ready for me as I sank into her inch by inch. I pressed her flat to the counter, and dug fingers into her hips, surging forward powerfully, squeezing my eyes shut and bowing my head, just giving myself over to the sensation of her. She pressed her hands flat to the counter and arched her back, driving herself back onto my dick with every forward thrust. I was sure her hipbones were cracking into the counter with every thrust, and I was sure that it wasn’t pleasant but she paid it no never mind and with the way her body was squeezing down on my cock? I couldn’t bring myself to stop or adjust to a different position.