She gasped with every thrust into her body, groaned with each withdrawal.
His arms spread over hers, Charlie pressed them into the bed above her head and reared over her.
“Christ, Kate.”
She’d thought he couldn’t get deeper, couldn’t thrust harder but he managed both.
Kate’s muscles spasmed, her body shook and she was washed away in waves of pleasure, pounded into the surf as each contraction bit deeper.
Charlie’s face contorted and then she felt his cock swell.
As he jetted into her, her muscles clenched around his cock, dragging his cum out of him.
As their breathing eased, Charlie’s eyes opened.
“That was fantastic.
I never want to move.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.
I can’t move.”
Charlie sighed as he withdrew his cock.
Kate sighed louder when her legs were back in a straight line.
“Result of the 11:05 race.
Snow the winner with Storm a close second,” Charlie said.
“I think it was a dead heat.”
He laughed.
“I’m dead hot, you could be right.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kate opened her eyes the next morning to find Charlie looking at her.
She gave him a lazy smile.
“I love you,” he said.
Kate gulped, wide awake.
“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you.
I should have said it before.
Properly.
I.
Love.
You.” He punctuated each word with a kiss.
For once, Kate had no smart retort.
Her heart was sprinting, racing against her brain toward a finish line and winning.
He loved her.
He no longer
thought
he loved her.
He
did
love her.
His dark eyes were like deep pools, so beautiful she longed to submerge herself in them.
“And although I love fucking you, it’s far more than that.
I love you because I can be honest with you.
I trust you.
I love you because you’ve made me see I’m more than I thought.
I love you because you’ve made me real.
I’m trying to ignore the fact that my dick gets excited when I even think your name.” He kissed the end of her nose and then pulled back.
“Do you love me?”
“Yes, I love you.” She ran a finger along his lips.
“You’re my other path, Charlie.
Of course I love you.”
His face lit up and then his smile slipped a little.
“What other path?”
“When I was seven my life divided.
I went one way into care and my hopes went on another, different path, one where I hadn’t stepped in as my parents fought, one where no one died.
On that path, I could pass exams, seize opportunities, get a good job, find someone to love me—someone who thought I was sweet and kind and beautiful.
I thought, one day the paths will come together, someone will help me bring them together.
That’s what kept me sane, helped me to survive.
That’s why Richard fooled me.
I thought it was him I’d been waiting for, but it wasn’t.
It was you.
And in a strange, warped way, I’m glad I met Dickhead, otherwise I’d never have met you.”
“Who said anything about you being sweet, kind and beautiful?” Charlie asked.
“This sexy guy I know.
I’ll introduce you one day.”
He leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on her lips.
“I wish I could turn back the clock and make things right.”
“They’re right now and that’s all that matters.”
“I want to give you the world.”
“I only want you.”
“Even with all my bad habits?” he asked.
“Well, no, not with those, obviously.”
He leapt on her, taking her wrists in one hand and pinning them above her head.
“You’re supposed to say you love me even with those.” His other hand tickled her ribs and stomach and she squirmed.
“I give in,” she yelled.
“You’re too easy.”
But he pulled her back against him and wrapped his arms and legs around her as if he was trying to make her part of him.
Kate didn’t think she’d ever felt so safe and happy.
“So why do you think no one would have died if you hadn’t stepped in?”
She tensed and Charlie kissed her shoulder.
“Tell me,” he whispered.
“I made matters worse.
I think I stopped Mum saving herself because she tried to protect me.”
“But you were only seven.
You couldn’t have prevented anything from happening.”
His legs entwined with hers, toes kissing.
“I’ll never know, will I?” Kate said, her voice subdued.
“Is that what your father wants to talk to you about?
What happened that night?”
Silence.
“Have I got to tickle you again?
Talk to me, Kate.
Please.” He brushed his cheek against hers.
“I think he wants to ask me to forgive him and I don’t think I can.”
Charlie pressed his face into her hair.
“You forgave me for hurting you.
He’s your Dad, Kate.
You should at least let him talk to you.”
“I don’t want to.”
Charlie let her go and rolled on to his back.
“I wanted to ask you to do something with me, only I’m not sure that I should now.”
“What?”
“I want to go and see my birth mother.”
Something squeezed her heart.
“Right.
Where does she live?”
“Surrey Quays.”
“What’s her name?” Kate turned her head on the pillow to face him.
“Janet Doyle.”
“Have you spoken to her?
How does it work?
What do you have to do?”
“They suggest someone act as intermediary, in case she drops dead with shock when she sees me.
But I’m the one with the rights, not her.
She has no access to me, unless I want it to happen.” Charlie took a deep breath.
“She registered the fact that she left me outside Woolworths so I guess she thought I might get in touch one day.
She could have contacted the adoption agency and asked them to get in touch with me, but she hasn’t.
So, I have to assume she’s not interested in what happened to me.
Only when she finds out who I am, I think that will change.”
Kate saw Charlie’s problem.
“Want a cup of tea?” he asked and rolled out of bed, padding naked across the floor.
Kate got up and followed him.
“Look at it another way, Charlie, she could have told the adoption people she didn’t want any contact from you, but she hasn’t.
Maybe she’s always hoped you’d want to find her.”
He pulled on a blue toweling robe and tossed a white one to Kate, giving her a wry smile.
“We are such a pair.
You don’t want to speak to your long lost dad and I’m desperate to speak to my long lost mum.”
“Are you going to ring her or just turn up on the doorstep?” Kate asked as they went downstairs.
“They don’t recommend knocking on the door out of the blue.
I mean, she really might drop dead with shock.”
“What are you going to do?”
Charlie switched on the kettle and took two tall mugs from the cupboard.
“Call her and arrange to see her, if…if she wants to.” He looked at Kate.
“I’d like you to sit in the car and wait for me, so you can give me a hug when I come out.”
Kate put the milk on the work surface.
“What are you looking for, Charlie?
What do you want her to tell you?”
He ran his finger down her forehead, over her nose to her lips.
“I need to know why she didn’t want me.”
Kate’s heart lurched.
She couldn’t imagine giving her baby up, couldn’t imagine giving Charlie up.
She put her arms around him.
“Could you do that?
Give up your child?” he asked and then rushed on before Kate could answer.
“I mean we’ve never talked about children.
I don’t want to rush you or anything.”
“Why?
Were you thinking of starting now?”
His hands slid to her backside, and he tugged her against him.
She could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing against her.
“I think I’m going to call you Ever Ready,” Kate said.
“We haven’t done it in the kitchen yet.”
“We haven’t done it on your couch either.
Or in the garage.”
His eyes twinkled.
“So much to look forward to.”
The noise of the boiling kettle pulled them apart.
“How much do you know about your birth mother?” she asked.
“Just her name and address, and the fact that she left me outside Woolworths.
I was nine months old.
I guess the fact that it was Woolworths gives me some idea of what to expect.
Not Harrods or Selfridges.” He shot her a wry grin.
Kate handed him the tea.
“Hey, you don’t know why she abandoned you, Charlie.
She could have just been a kid.
There might be lots of reasons why she couldn’t keep you.
Maybe she was raped.”
He stared at her.
“But even if she was raped, she went ahead and had me, kept me for nine months and then dumped me.
Would you ever do that?
Abandon your baby?”
Kate shook her head.
“No, but—”
“No buts.
She kept me for nine months.
Nine fucking months.
The same amount of time she had me inside her.
I mean, is that significant?” His voice had risen.
“I understand about rape.
I could see that.
It might have happened.
Or if there was no rape and she was a kid, maybe, just maybe, I could accept that.
But by nine months I might have been walking.
I’d have been smiling at her.
Trusting her.
Loving her.
I was a person.
And she didn’t want me.”
Kate wrapped one of her hands around his clenched fist and pulled him into her arms, holding him tight.
Charlie needed steadfast love more than anything, she saw that now.
It explained his drive to succeed as a pop star, why he’d turned to acting and why it would never be enough.
He might moan and wail about the fans, but he needed the adoration, fed on it because he was trying to wipe out the fact that the one person who should have loved him more than her life, had rejected him.
“Ethan’s going to kill me,” he muttered.
“Why?”
“Because he wants to control everything about me and I’m not going to tell him about this.
He’s basically a good guy.
He bullied me into getting help, pushed me when others would have given up but he’s king of the fairground ride, a master of spin.
If I told him what I was doing, he’d have the press there and a TV company recording the whole thing for some Sunday night special.
Maybe
Hello
or
OK
magazine
set up with a mega-deal.
Pages of photos of a big, fucking happy reunion.
That’s not what I want.
I want to do this on my own.
Only…I want you there, too.
Would you do that?
To be honest, I don’t want you to wait in the car.
Would you come in with me?”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
“I’m a coward.
Holding your hand makes me feel better.”
“Ring her then.”
“What, now?”
Kate smiled at the look of horror on his face and kissed his cheek.
“Yes, now.”
“Who should I say I am?”
“Charlie!”
“Okay, okay.”
Kate leaned back against the counter top and listened.
Charlie already had the number in his phone.
“Hello, is this Janet Doyle?… Oh, Janet Crouch.
Sorry.
I know this is going to be a bit of a shock, but you’re my—”
He didn’t get any further.
Kate saw the relief sweep his face.
“Charlie,” he said.
“Yes…Yes…Okay…Right…See you then.” He put the phone down.
“She guessed when I said her maiden name,” he explained.
“How did she sound?”
“Slightly Scots, I think.
She sounded okay, not angry, but not thrilled either.
Sort of resigned.
We can go and see her this afternoon while her husband’s at work.
He’s not my father.”
He gave a deep sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Kate asked.
“How will I know whether she’s pleased to see me or not?
Once she recognizes me, she’ll react because I’m Charlie Storm and not because I’m the little boy she gave up.”
“Do you want to put a paper bag over your head?”
“Ha bloody ha.”
“Have you considered that she might go to the press?
Sell her story?” Kate asked.
Charlie started to bite his nails, winced at the taste and glared at Kate.
“She’s not going to look good if she does go to the press, is she?”
“If a lot of money’s involved, I’m not sure people care how the papers make them look.”
* * * * *
Charlie’s birth mother lived in an apartment a stone’s throw from the Thames.
When Charlie drove straight to her place, without even using his sat-nav, Kate wondered if he’d been there before, trying to spot her.
He parked next to a line of wheelie bins and as they walked to the front of the block, he squeezed Kate’s hand.
The block was a new build, three stories of London brick with gray multi-angled roofs.
Charlie’s finger shook when he pressed the buzzer.
He gave Kate a nervous smile.
“Come in.
It’s the top floor.” The voice from the intercom sounded raspy.
Charlie’s feet got slower and slower.
By the time they reached the last flight, Kate was all but dragging him.
Janet Crouch stood at her door waiting.
When Charlie came into view, her mouth dropped open.
“Is this a joke?” she muttered and looked behind Kate and Charlie, maybe checking for a film crew.
“Hello, er…Mum,” Charlie said.
“Fucking hell,” she gasped.
“Fucking, fucking, fucking hell.”
What a lovely way to greet a child you hadn’t seen for thirty years, Kate thought.
The three of them just stood there.
Kate could see she’d made an effort to smarten herself up.
She wore a neatly ironed blue sun dress, but if Charlie had hoped for a sophisticated, elegant mother, he’d be disappointed.
Janet was small and thin with startling bright red hair, courtesy of a box.
“It’s a joke,” Janet said again.
Charlie seemed to have lost the power of speech, so Kate took over.
“It’s not a joke.
Can we come in?”
Janet moved aside.
By the time they’d walked up another flight of stairs and she’d shown them into the living room, Janet’s expression had changed from one of disbelief to one of dreamlike bliss.
Kate could almost see wheels turning in her head, cogs clicking, money chinking like a jackpot pay-out on a one-armed bandit.
Kate looked around the room.
Apart from a very large TV and a DVD player, everything was shabby.
The curtains looked tired and faded and the cushions on the couch, lumpy and stained.
Janet started to tidy, but moving a few newspapers wasn’t going to make much difference.
Kate didn’t think Charlie had noticed the state of the place, his focus was on his mother, as if he was trying to see inside her, to see himself in her.