About Time (Broken Vows #4)

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Hattie Present- Age 43

It’s been a long time since I let myself look back at that time. I thought it was because of how painful it was when my relationship with Charlie imploded. A tear runs down my face, and I wipe it away.

“I haven’t thought of any of this for a long time,” I say through a throat full of emotion.

Wren is trying hard not to give in to her own tears. Her green eyes are brighter through the sheen of moisture filling her eyes. “I had forgotten about my obsession with that movie, or how my parents would bicker about what to put on pizza. I think it’s the only thing they ever fought about, and even that wasn’t serious.”

I swallow hard, my throat still feels thick, like I can’t swallow. “I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t let myself think about them very often. Even the good memories hurt. I asked Elisa once if the grief of losing our mom would get easier. She said she thought we’d learn to live with it.”

Wren traces some invisible design on the table. “I don’t think the grief ever goes away, it just becomes a part of you. I read somewhere that the more you love someone the harder you grieve them. All I know is that I have days, sometimes weeks even, where everything is okay. It’s always in the back of my mind that she’s gone, but I push it aside. But then there are these moments, the ones where you stop and soak it in because you know it’s a memory to cherish. The first thing I want to do is run to her and tell her. I wanted her to be there with me on my wedding day and at the hospital when my babies were born. Hell, I would have even loved fighting with her about falling in love with Griffin.”

“Do you think she would have had a problem with it?” Not telling Elisa about Charlie and me is one of my biggest regrets.

“At first I think she would have. My dad really would have. But, I like to think that after what I went through with Liam they’d understand and support the man who treated me the way I deserve. The way my dad treated my mom.”

Wren winces. “I’m so sorry Claudia. It’s not that I forgot you were here, but I just didn’t think for a minute. I try not to bring up any of that stuff around you.”

Claudia waves her off. “Don’t be. Liam might not be that way with me, but what he did to you was fucked up. He has to live with that. You shouldn’t have to hide your trauma just because I’m here. I hope you know that.”

Bess exhales. “This got really heavy. If we’re going to rip off all of our scabs we need to find something stronger than soda.”

“Excellent idea,” I agree. “If I’m going to continue this story we’re going to need the strong shit.”

Wren jumps up and goes to the fridge. From the freezer she pulls out a bottle of vodka. “Will this work?”

“As long as you have something to go with it,” Bess says.

Wren grabs a pitcher out of the fridge. “Uhm, how tacky would it be if all I have is Kool-Aid?”

Harlow rubs her belly and grins. “Suddenly I’m not so upset that I can’t drink with you.”

“I think it sounds like high school. Hand it over,” Bess says and goes about making herself a drink.

I cringe. This sounds worse than dropping a Jolly Rancher inside of a Zima, but I’m not about to start drinking straight vodka. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that this story was going to need some liquid courage.

Every spare minute I have when I’m not working is spent with Charlie. Sometimes it’s with his hand wrapped around my throat while he drives me out of my mind with pleasure, and other times it is in bed with his arms wrapped around me. It took me a couple of weeks before I was willing to trust this change in our relationship, but now it feels like it has always been the two of us against the world.

The only problem now is that the world doesn’t know about us. I’m not great at hiding things from Elisa, so I’ve been making excuses about working overtime. This can’t go on forever, because sooner or later my sister is going to show up at the job she thinks I’m working an excessive amount of hours at, and she will find out that I work a straight forty hours every week, and not a moment more. That will inevitably lead to her and Martin demanding to know why I’ve been lying. I would fold like a house of cards and answer all of her questions and some they might not think to ask.

Charlie and I have talked about telling people, but the risk isn’t the same for me as it is for him. Martin, Elisa, and even his friends might look at him like he groomed me to be with him, or used his friendship with my brother-in-law to get close to me. I will be the poor girl taken advantage of by a nearly thirty-year-old man. It doesn’t matter that none of that is true. My poor, love-sick teenage self knew without a doubt that Charlie barely knew I existed when I was sixteen and seventeen. It wasn’t until I came back after being gone my freshman year of college that things changed between us. If there was pressure used to start this relationship, it was by me. I saw that the way he looked at me had changed, and I took advantage of it until I basically wore him down.

I guess what bothers me is that he doesn’t see me as being worth the risk, which can only mean that he doesn’t see us lasting past the summer. I don’t know why I’m finding this so shocking. It isn’t like something has changed, but that’s the issue. I thought it had changed when we went from just being about sex to being something more. Stupidly, I let myself believe that it meant the deadline for the end of our relationship went away with our previous deal. You know what they say about assumptions because I certainly feel like an ass for letting myself get carried away by a childhood fantasy.

Now, there are a couple of weeks left of the summer before I have to return to class. I’ll be giving up my apartment and moving permanently to Centralia because even though it’s less than an hour to drive there, it’s still too far to do twice a day. I believe we could make it work, but I can’t put in all the effort by myself.

Late on a Friday night, Charlie and I are lounging on the couch watching a movie. It’s a mindless action flick, not mentally stimulating enough to pull me out of my head. Without meaning to, I withdraw into myself.

Charlie stretches out his leg and pushes my thigh with his bare foot. “What is going on in that pretty head of yours? You have been really quiet lately.”

This is my opening, if I’m brave enough to seize it. I wet my lips and steel myself to face this. “I’m just thinking about how fast the summer has passed, and that I’ll have to go to Centralia to start classes soon.”

I hold my breath waiting for a response, but there’s no change in his demeanor. Inside I’m shouting, “What does that mean for us?” But I just can’t get my mouth to form the words.

“We need to get your mind to relax,” he says with lust deepening his voice.

My mind wants to revolt, but my body is completely on board with his plan. He hasn’t even touched me yet, and I can feel myself growing wet. The stress and uncertainty reach a crescendo and even my mind comes on board with Charlie’s plans to seek a reprieve from the spiral of anxiety.

The addictive aspect of Charlie’s games is handing him control and shutting my mind off completely. He stands up and holds out his hand. I take it without question, and he leads us to his bedroom.

He doesn’t say a single word to me, and I allow myself to slip into the space where the only thing in my world is what he wants. His fingers grab the hem of my tank top, and he pulls it over my head. Then his dark brown eyes grab and hold my green ones. I can feel his fingers land on the button of my jeans, but I don’t dare look away.

Charlie shoves my jeans down my legs. Even as he bends down to pull them past my knees, I don’t dare look down at him. I feel a tap on my ankle, and that is my only command to step out of my jeans. He reaches behind me and unhooks my bra. Even this many weeks later my first instinct is to cover my nakedness. I fight against the urge and leave my arms loose by my sides.

He still says nothing to me. At least not verbally. His eyes tell me he is enjoying this game, but my glimpse of them is brief. Charlie circles me slowly. Once he is behind me his hand grips the back of my neck and he silently guides me forward toward the bed.

Instead of putting me on the bed, he bends me until my chest is on the bed, and my feet are still on the floor. I know without him telling me not to move. He moves around, stretches my arms out above my head, and secures each with a restraint and cuff to rings built into the bed frame. Then he moves behind me again. Charlie pushes his foot between mine and kicks my legs apart. I hear rustling under the bed, and then he binds each ankle.

Despite the fact that I can’t move, he places his hand on my back to hold me down. His other hand reaches between my legs. His fingers stroke my mound and slip between my folds. No doubt he feels how turned on I am. He uses my wetness to stroke his finger over my clit until I’m flooded.

The sound of his zipper being undone fills me with a delicious anticipation. Being with him has helped me discover who I am more than an academic year in Florida did. I never in my wildest dreams would have imagined I am submissive, how much I crave being used for his pleasure. I definitely wouldn’t have thought I liked being fucked more than making love. I wanted it rough enough that I could still feel him the next day. It’s going to be so hard moving on from him.

I exhale a puff of air trying to force these thoughts from my head. I haven’t been told I could make a sound, so undoubtedly he would punish me for disobeying him.

The head of his cock presses against my opening. He grabs my hips with a firm hold, his fingers indenting into my skin. He pulls my hips back and slams his cock deep into my cunt. I cry out with the delicious feel of his invasion like he knew I would. I love the way he takes me so animalistic. As if he couldn’t wait another second to feel me wrapped around him.

With his cock deep inside of me, he lifts one hand and slaps my ass. “Toys aren’t supposed to make noise. You’re a greedy little slut hungry for cock, aren’t you?”

I am not sure I’m supposed to answer, so I remain silent.

He pulls out with just the tip still inside of me, and thrusts forward at the same time he slaps my other cheek. The vibration travels all the way through me and causes my pussy to clench down hard on his cock.

“You don’t have to answer, I can feel your cunt trying to choke my dick. Does my fucktoy want me to fill it with cum?”

Charlie picks up the pace, rocking me back and forth on the bed as far as my binds will allow. I bite my lip to keep any more sounds from escaping until I’ve been given permission.

“I can feel the walls of your pussy fluttering around my cock. Do you want to come on my cock like a good little whore? You can answer me.”

“Yes, Sir,” I gasp.

He stops moving, and holds deep inside of me. “Beg me to come.”

I wait a couple of beats, but he doesn’t move. The orgasm that was beginning to form is taunting me. He’s left me no choice, I have to plead for release. “Please, Sir, make me come.”

Slowly he drags his cock out and just as slowly pushes back in. It keeps me on the edge of coming, but doesn’t let me fall over.

“I’m not convinced. Tell me how much you want me to fuck you.”

“Please, fuck me, Sir.”

Charlie continues at the agonizing pace. I can feel every ridge slide across my nerves. He tips his hips so that the ridge of his shaft strokes that magic spot deep inside of me. My climax continues to build and grows more intense with each pass over my G-spot.

“Like this, Doll?” he taunts.

“More please, Sir,” I beg.

He leans his body over mine, his chest pressing against my back so he can whisper in my ear. “What is more? Tell me exactly how you want to be fucked.”

“Fuck me hard, Sir. Please use me how you want. Fill me with your cum.”

“You really are a good little slut. Since you asked nicely I’ll give you what you want. I’ll use your pussy to empty my balls and make a mess out of you.”

He stands back up and holds my hips once again. With his firm grasp he pulls me back on his thick cock every time he plunges inside. The mixture of pain and pleasure drives me higher and higher. The stress and uncertainty I’ve been carrying tangles with every overstimulated nerve.

“Fuck I love the feel of your pussy around my cock. Come with me, Doll. Let me hear you scream,” Charlie demands.

It feels like an explosion inside of me. Too many sensations all at once, and I feel like I could scatter into a million little stars. Charlie lets out a long, satisfied groan as he fills me with hot jets of his seed. The feel of his release as his cock pulses inside of me shoves me over the edge. I give him what he wants and scream as I shatter to pieces.