“I tried to kiss you. In the hospital. I had one of those epiphanies, you know, from facing potential death, where I thought, ‘Hey, I love Charlotte, what am I waiting for?’ But you looked at me like I had lost my mind, so I let it drop.” He had stepped back, putting space between them, and he shrugged, looking a little sheepish.
Now it wasn’t just her mouth that was hot, it was her whole body, head to toe and every speck in between. She did remember, after all. “I thought you were hopped up on pain killers and didn’t know what you were doing. I thought maybe you were dreaming. You were muttering incoherently. And did you just say that you love me?”
He nodded. Then he took her hand, his touch tender, his thumb smoothing over her skin. “Charlotte, I love you, totally and completely. As a friend, yes, but it’s more than that…I love you the way a man loves a woman.”
Charlotte was speechless, a big old grapefruit-size lump in her throat preventing her from swallowing or speaking. Not that she had formulated a coherent response anyway. She couldn’t really see, either, because tears had completely blurred her vision. So she stood there watery and wordless and shook her head, overwhelmed. This was real. He was real. The love she felt was real, and now he was telling her she had his, too.
Squeezing his hand back and breathing really hard, she managed to force out, “I love you, too,” before dissolving into full-blown sobbing. She didn’t mean to. Didn’t want to. But the emotion she felt, the relief, the joy, the hope, was overwhelming, and she just lost it.
Will pulled her close against his chest. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s alright. It’s all good. These are happy tears, right?”
She nodded, face squashed against his T-shirt. “Uh-huh.” Wiping her tears on the cotton of his shirt, she sucked in air and tried to get control of herself.
“Alright, then.” He tipped her head up, forcing her to look at him. “Then can I make love to you?”
Hell, yes. “Absolutely.” Only she couldn’t stop herself from darting a quick glance over to his kitchen, where the mistletoe was lying.
He grinned. “Should I go get it? And how exactly did you cast a spell on that thing anyway?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just leave it.” Bree would be disappointed that it hadn’t worked, but Charlotte couldn’t say she was. Will wanting her all on his own was far better. There was really no comparison.
“Sure it does. I’m curious.” He went over to the kitchen and picked it up. Groaning when he made contact, his eyes rolled back in his head like he was suddenly experiencing intense pleasure.
Charlotte was horrified for a split second, then Will laughed.
“Just kidding.” He winked at her.
“Not funny.” Though he was so damn cute, it wasn’t like she could even work up any real irritation. He loved her. He. Loved. Her. She was going to be flying on that for about a month.
“Yes, it is.” Will was inspecting the mistletoe. “What’s this white ribbon for? It’s all twisted inside the branches and you drew little pictures on it.”
“Those are symbols.” Charlotte crossed her arms and tried to be nonchalant about the whole thing.
“Symbols for what?” He twirled it around, running his finger down the ribbon. “This is a blue wavy line. What’s that mean?”
“Serenity. In our relationship.”
He glanced over at her, looking touched. “That’s very sweet.”
“Your friendship brings me happiness.” They were only a few feet apart, but Charlotte felt the energy between them, the new awareness of each other, a sort of strumming electric attraction and excitement, a giddy sense of anticipation and security. They were no longer just friends. They were about to become lovers and they were in love. It was a powerful moment, just locking eyes with Will and letting him see the truth.
“Yours does, too, Charlotte, more than I can say.” He cleared his throat and tapped the next symbol. “This is a crazy-looking H, or I don’t know, like a arch of some kind. What’s that mean?”
“That’s the bluebird of happiness. It’s for love.”
Will tilted his head slightly. “This sounds more like a love spell than a lust spell.”
She had to be honest, with him and herself. “Maybe it was both.”
“I think they really go hand in hand, don’t they? One works best with the other.”
“That’s true.” And she loved him even more for understanding.
“So what’s lusty on here?”
“The hexagram is the symbol for sex.” Which she wanted to actually be doing instead of standing there talking about it.
“Okay, you have two of those. And three male symbols.”
Yes, she did. Charlotte felt her inner thighs moisten, the tight ache she’d been feeling all night building and growing in anticipation. “Those are the phallus of thrusting symbols.”
Will sucked in his breath, his look so hot, so aroused, that it felt like he was stroking her from across the room, like his fingers were already inside her body, invading and pleasuring her.
“Are they now? And you felt the need to put three of these on here? More than anything else, I see.” Will started toward her, stalking her, an impressive erection already pressing against the front of his jeans. “Why is that, sweetheart? Are you saying you want me to thrust my cock up inside you?”
Hello. Charlotte’s nipples tightened and she shifted restlessly. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. That’s what I was hoping for, even when I thought it could never happen.”
His hand brushed against her waist, thigh rustling against hers. “It’s going to happen. Right now.”
Six
WILL HAD INTENDED TO TAKE IT SLOW, SENSUAL, SWEET FOR their first time. But then Charlotte had blushed, her cheeks pink, her lips wet and parted, and she had just tossed off that admission of having put phallus-thrusting symbols on her mistletoe ribbon.
He’d heard “phallus” and “thrusting,” along with her wanting him, and his brain had ceased to function. All commands were coming from below the belt now, which was why he just about attacked Charlotte, hands sliding all over her thighs, her ass, her waist, while he kissed her hard, sucking and tugging and thrusting. Her hands went into his hair, gripping hard, as they rocked and slapped together, tongues entwining, skin hot, breath rushed and urgent. Pulling back slightly, Will ripped his shirt off over his head and dropped it to the floor.
Her eyes widened and she dropped her touch to his chest, stroking over him with such appreciation and curiosity that Will groaned. Her lips were wet and shiny from his kisses, skin flushed with pleasure, legs spreading apart as she tried to get closer to him. Charlotte had a raw sensuality that he had never seen, never even guessed existed, and he wanted to see more, wanted to see how hot she could get, how far she’d go. They were going to have a hell of a lot of fun exploring that in the next few months.
Shoving up her sweater, Will pulled and tugged until it popped off over her head, her head sticking up, her arms flailing as she tried to get free. Then to his total amazement, she reached back and unhooked her bra and tossed it to the side, exposing her very lovely breasts, bare shoulders, and flat belly to him. Will forgot to breathe.
Then he couldn’t prevent a guttural growl from coming out of his mouth as he bent over and took her nipple into his mouth, cupping the soft weight of her breasts with his hands. She gasped, pinching his shoulders. That sound, the way she expressed her pleasure, her voice the same one he knew so well, yet so different, was as big of a turn-on as the taste of her tight flesh under his tongue.