About Time (Broken Vows #4)

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Charlie Past- Age 29

Artie turns out to be a jacked guy who most definitely doesn’t look like an old man. Being here is making me confront some facts I was actively ignoring. While I’m not ready to broadcast to everyone in our gossip-obsessed town that I’m dating my friend’s nineteen-year-old sister-in-law, I at least need her to know that we are more than I said six weeks ago.

I knew I was full of shit when I laid out the rules, but I had to at least try and stop myself from falling head-first in love for the first time with a woman who still has yet to set herself out on a path for her adult life. Fuck, she’s barely an adult. I should have known it was pointless by the way I couldn’t resist her, even while lying to myself that it was only sex.

Now here I am, sitting through the most awkward dinner I’ve ever attended. Part of me wonders if Martin and Elisa suspect there’s something going on between Hattie and me, because I keep getting these odd looks from them. Hattie is quietly pushing her food around her plate. I don’t think she’s actually eaten any of the food.

Martin and Artie keep trying to carry on the conversation since no one offers any topics, which devolves to them talking about different radiologists. Elisa hasn’t given up on her scheme to force Hattie into the dating world.

“Martin, I’m sure Artie didn’t come here to talk about work,” she says, and her eyes slide over to Hattie. She’s not even a little subtle, and Hattie is growing more embarrassed by the second.

Elisa turns to Artie and smiles. She is probably more attractive now than she was in high school, and I knew many guys who would have given their left nut to be Martin for a single day. Artie strikes me as a pretty nice young man, which means he has no defense against Elisa when she decides to dial up the charm.

“Artie, Martin tells me that you spent a summer in Hawaii with a local group to clean up beaches from trash.”

He is probably the only one at the table eating normally. He takes his time, chewing the bite he’d just stuck in his mouth, and washes it down with iced tea before he answers her.

“Yeah. It was right after I graduated from high school. I went out there with several members from my church and spent two months picking up trash. It was an incredible experience. One of the guys in our crew was local, and an avid surfer, so I got to learn to surf a little while I was there too.”

I can tell by Elisa’s grin she already knew this, and her entire reason for asking the question. My suspicion is proven correct when she turns to Hattie, and says, “That’s great to hear, isn’t Hattie?”

Looking back at Artie, Elisa continues to lay it on thick, despite the fact that Hattie has said little past, “Hello, nice to meet you.”

“Hattie was in Florida all of last school year and got into surfing. Quite a rare hobby to find in a person this far away from the ocean.”

Up to this point, Hattie has barely acknowledged Artie’s presence, but the mention of surfing had piqued her interest. She turns in her seat, her body language opens up, and they start a lively conversation about the type of board they prefer, swells, and the best time to hit the water.

“I’m so jealous,” she sighs. “I started surfing almost as soon as I got to Florida, but the waves in the gulf are pretty small. I’d love more of a challenge.”

Elisa’s smile brightens with her perceived victorious matchmaking efforts. I fight hard to hide my scowl, but I’m growing less and less interested in hiding my relationship with Hattie. I can’t tell how Hattie feels about it though, because she seems less concerned with watching my reaction to focusing completely on her conversation with Artie.

Martin is growing bored now that the conversation has diverted away from his work. He tries to pull me into a conversation about our softball team, and he mistakes my preoccupation with Hattie for boredom.

He jerks his head toward the door that leads to the garage. “Want to come and make sure I don’t fuck up my truck?”

As a mechanic, I have a moral obligation to protect an innocent vehicle from an amateur poking around under the hood. I say as much to everyone else still at the table, but only Elisa is paying attention to what Martin and I are up to.

She waves us off. “Go on. I think we’re done with dinner. I’m going to see what Wren has gotten up to. She’s far too quiet. It’s making me nervous.”

I look back at Hattie, but she is still focused on Artie.

I don’t think Martin needs to worry about his skills destroying his truck. I’m angry enough to pulverize metal.

No. This isn’t anger. I realize for the first time in my life, I’m jealous.

Martin and I tinker with his truck for over an hour. I think we change one spark plug in that entire time, not a job that would take me even close to an hour, but work in the garage is code for go drink beer. Since I still have to drive home, and I never drink more than one beer if I’m driving, I mostly stand around hyper-fixating on what Hattie is doing.

Good times.

My inattention ends up with me cutting my hand. Cuts and scrapes aren’t new to me. I’ve had plenty of them working in a garage, and a few burns from exhaust pipes and radiators. Being in a hurry, or working when there’s something else on my mind creates the perfect setup for injury. I think watching the woman I’m obsessed with be pushed toward another man is a pretty big distraction.

When I can reasonably excuse myself from our manly bonding time, I go back inside. I’d like to speak to Hattie, maybe see if she’s coming over, but I’m shit out of luck. She’s nowhere to be found.

Worse, Artie is gone too.

Elisa comes down the stairs just as I’m heading out. “Going already?”

I jerk my thumb over my shoulder toward the dining room. “Looks like the party ended. Don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Elisa gives me a soft smile. “You’re always welcome here, Charlie. I hope you know that.”

Guilt hits me swift and strong like a punch to the gut. I try to smile, but it probably looks more like a grimace. If she knew what has been going on between her sister and me then there’s no way she’d welcome me back here. It should be enough to make me stop, but it doesn’t.

I start to drive toward Oakridge, where Hattie lives, with the full intent to sit outside of her apartment and wait for her to come home from whatever the fuck she’s up to right now. I get to the edge of town before I calm down enough to remember that I don’t know where in Oakridge she lives. It’s a small town, but not small enough that I’m going to drive around aimlessly searching for her car. Even then, unless it’s a marked spot, I don’t know what her apartment number is.

Going straight home isn’t an option. If I did that I would just pace and drive myself insane until I got a chance to talk to her. No, what I need is to stay busy. Going to see Griffin crosses my mind, but my best friend sees too much sometimes. I know sooner or later he’s going to pick up on the fact that I’ve been avoiding him outside of work.

That narrows my choices down to going to the bar, or aimlessly driving around town. After growing up with an alcoholic, I never drink when I’m upset or angry. So really my only choice is to drive around aimlessly. Ironic, because that’s the reason that I ruled out trying to find Hattie’s apartment.

On my second pass through town, I notice a car parked in front of my house. That makes me slow down enough to recognize it as Hattie’s car. She’s sitting in the driver’s seat, so I pull into my driveway and walk over to the driver’s side door. Hattie is preoccupied with a book and doesn’t see me come up to the window. When I tap on it she jumps as high as she can while seated in her car.

She gets out and for a minute we just stand there, awkwardly staring at each other. She watches herself twist her fingers together before looking back up at me. “You’ve been gone a while,” she says softly.

“You were gone when I came back in from the garage. I thought you left with Artie, so I drove around to clear my head,” I reply.

“Why would you need to clear your head if we were nothing more than sex?”

I smile because she handed me the perfect segue to talk about the changes I want to make to our arrangement. For starters, I’d like to switch from being an arrangement to a relationship.

I jangle my keys in front of me. “Come inside and we’ll talk.” I don’t wait to see if she’ll follow me, I know that she will.

“Okay, I’m inside, let’s talk,” she says while she closes the door.

“I realized something tonight at dinner,” I begin.

Her posture goes rigid, and her fingers clutch her jeans like she’s trying to hold her arms in place. I move closer to her and gently brush the side of her face. “For the first time in my life, I was jealous. I wouldn’t have felt that way if we were just sex.”

She looks up at me, her green eyes open wide and hopeful. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“I didn’t like watching you talk to another guy,” I admit.

Her lips twist. “That’s it? You didn’t like me talking to another guy?”

I exhale. It’s harder than I thought it would be to tell her I’m developing actual feelings for her. “Don’t you get it? I felt possessive of your attention. It’s not just your body that I want. Although, I do love playing with you, and I still want you to be my toy, but only in the bedroom.” I look around the room. “Or, any room, but only during sex. I want the rest of your time too. Dinners, movies, walks?—”

“On the beach?” she says with a giggle. “Are you saying that you want to take me out on a date?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m saying that I want you to be mine, completely. You can call it whatever you want. Call me your boyfriend if that feels right for you. I don’t care what we call it as long as you don’t leave in the middle of the night anymore.”

Her mouth falls open wide, and I don’t think it is because she’s overcome by my romantic gesture.

“Y…you,” she stammers then inhales deeply then tries again. “You make it sound like I snuck out in the middle of the night. You. Told. Me. To. Leave.”

I slip my arm around her waist and pull her flush against my body. “Everyone knows I’m a bit of an idiot. I thought that if I kept you at arm’s length I could protect myself.”

Her eyebrows scrunch together, and a crease forms between her eyes. “What do you need to protect yourself from?”

The corner of my mouth pulls up, and I bring my free hand up to smooth out the worry line between her eyes. I want to kiss her so badly, but this conversation needs to happen first. “Can’t you see? I know what this is for you. I’m a story you’ll tell your friends someday. I’m not the guy who gets to keep you. This town is who I am, and you are meant for so much more than this place. Way more than a grease monkey like me can give you.”

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Charlie, I can get myself material things. That’s never been important to me anyway. No other guy can give me you. That’s all I want, but I want the real you.”

“Do you know what you’re asking for?” My voice is gravelly and low. She’s turning me into a beast. I’m probably seconds away from growling at her.

I really wanted to give her sweet. Lay her down and make love to her slowly and tenderly and all that shit, but if she wants me, that’s not what she’s going to get. All of my edges are rough.

“You deserve romance and lovemaking,” I tell her. My words say one thing, but my fingers thread through her hair and move her head to face up at me. Hattie is naturally submissive, and her eyes tend to drop down to my chest or feet. Of course, it could be nerves, but I don’t think so.

Her tongue swipes across her bottom lip, drawing my attention to her mouth. My hand tightens in her hair, and I nearly lose control and devour her here and now. “Do you have something to say, Doll?”

That nickname drains the tension out of her, and she’s instantly my toy. But that’s why I haven’t taken her already. I need her to understand that just because I treat her like a cumslut doesn’t mean she’s not also rapidly becoming the center of my world.

Hattie swallows. “I don’t want someone else’s idea of romance. Let the other girls get the roses, I want your thorns.”

The smile that spreads across my face feels obscene. It hints at the things I plan to do to this woman. Only this time I’m going to let myself hold her close afterwards rather than push her away.

“You should have told me that you wanted gentle. I need you to remember that I care a lot about you because right now I want to fuck you like I hate you. It’s an odd feeling, but I can’t easily wipe away the frustration I felt watching you talk to that dumb fuck all night.”

“He was actually a pretty nice guy,” she starts to defend him.

My eyes narrow. That was probably the worst thing she could have said if she wanted a softer version of me. She must really want my thorns after all.

“Those aren’t the words I want to hear coming out of this pretty mouth.”

With my thumb, I smear her lipstick on her face. It’s a natural looking pink, and I wonder what she’d look like with red lipstick smeared off her lips, drool sliding down her face while her mouth is stuffed with my cock, and her hair a tangled mess from me using it to fuck her face. I want to see tears streak down her face as she fights her gag reflex to take me into her throat.

“I think I need to find a way to keep your mouth busy so you can’t say anything else to piss me off.”

My eyes slide down her body. The coldness is present in my demeanor, but inside I burn for her. Hopefully, she knows that, but there will be time afterward to shower her with affection. Now it’s time to play with my favorite toy.

I let go of her hair and step back. “Undress down to your bra and underwear.”

Hattie nods her head and I make a tsking sound. “What do you say, toy?”

“Yes, Sir,” she says softly.

I fight the smile I can feel threatening to spread and force my outward expression into a commanding sternness. It’s hard not to react watching her unveil her beautiful body, but outwardly I give her a bored look.

If she wasn’t built for me, and I her, I don’t think there’s such a thing as having another half. I don’t know if our souls are halves of a whole or any fluffy bullshit, but I do know that her kink matches mine. Hattie gets off on being used, treated like a toy, and degraded. Not harshly, but she does enjoy some dirty names. Which is all perfect for me, because I love playing with her, slipping into the fantasy that she’s a possession.

I jerk my chin up. “Get on your knees.”

She drops down where she stands and awaits my next instruction. Slowly, I unbutton my pants and slide down the zipper. The menacing way I step toward her while doing this is almost like my dick is a weapon I’m threatening her with. Hattie is shaking, but the gleam in her eyes tells me it’s from arousal.

Like she has been for the last month and a half, Hattie is right here with me. Not just physically, but we’re in sync like I’ve never been with a woman. She’s the perfect blend of fire and peace. She fights me when we’re not getting naked, and opens for me when we are.

Finally, the confines of my jeans release my rock-hard dick. I hold the base in my hand and tap the head on her lips. “Do I like to share my toys?”

“No, Sir,” she responds.

“Do you think you should be punished?” This is something we haven’t tried yet.

“If Sir thinks so,” she answers meekly.

I grab the back of her head and push her down on my cock. The warm heat of her mouth slides along my shaft, and I groan as I feel the tip hit the back of her throat.

She gags a little, and I pull back to let her get adjusted. When I can tell she’s ready, I start fucking her mouth.

“Oh fuck. You look so beautiful with your lips around my cock and tears running down your face.”

I grunt as she sucks harder and rubs her tongue down the ridge of my shaft. My hands tighten in her hair. “You’re such a good little slut. Take more.”

Hattie swallows pulling me deeper into her throat. With her throat clenching tight as she swallows I’m ready to blow.

I pull out of her mouth and jack myself in front of her. “I’m not sure you remember yet who you belong to.”

“Yes I do. I’m yours Sir. Only yours,” she answers quickly. She didn’t even need a minute to think about it.

“Since you’re my fucktoy I can do whatever I want with you.” I pump my dick hard, twisting a bit when I pull back down.

My orgasm races through my body. I decide to be kind and give her a choice. “Where do you want it? Mouth, tits, face?”

“Wherever you want, Sir.”

Her quick ascent sends me over the edge. “You’re damn right it’s wherever I want. I can take you however I want, and whenever I want. If I wanted to share you, you’d let me. However, I’m a possessive bastard, so the only cock you’re going to get is mine.” I growl my words at her as I come all over her tits.

Thick ropes of white cum slide down the perky globes. I swipe my finger through some and hold it up to her mouth. “I don’t want to deprive a good cumwhore, like you, of getting a reward for giving great head.”

She obediently sucks my finger clean.

I hold my hand out and help her stand up. Reaching behind her I undo the clasp of her bra and let it slide down her arms.

“You’re a beautiful mess, Doll. I hate to ruin my work, but I think you need to get clean before I dirty you up again.”