Charlie and Bass were coming back from the bar one night. They'd both had quite a few, and finally Charlie decided she'd had just about enough of Bass Monroe's cryptic remarks and unreadable glances for one evening. Telling him not to bother following her, she walked off. It wasn't long before two drunk assholes confronted her in the street, making it very obvious that her intentions for her were no good. Charlie tried to reason with them, but when the taller of the two men grabbed her around the waist and started to pull her off the road into the bushes, she panicked, and screamed.

Suddenly, out of the darkness, Bass was there. He'd pulled a knife and quickly dispatched of the two thugs, not bothering to ask questions or take names first. Charlie was left safe, gasping for air, but her pride wounded. Without saying one word to Bass, she made a disgusted sound and ran off, trying yet again to get away from him, this time heading into the forest.

Bass stomped after Charlie, furious. "Where are you going?" he shouted.

"Anywhere you aren't!" she screamed back. She knew it was childish, but she couldn't be around him right then.

"What the hell is your problem?" he demanded, catching up with her, causing her to pick up her pace even more. "You going to get yourself killed just to piss me off?"

"You're such a bastard," Charlie spat. "I would have been fine, but you treat me like I'm a complete idiot." She gasped as Bass grabbed her arm and whirled her around to face him, his expression thunderous with rage and something else she couldn't quite pinpoint.

"How about we be honest with each other for five fucking minutes, Charlie?" he asked, his voice suddenly low, intense. "Do you think you could manage that?"

Charlie's eyes widened. This change in Bass was totally unexpected, and it caught her off guard. "Five minutes of honesty? More than you've ever given me before. Alright, deal." She stared at him, a challenge in her eyes.

"Great," he said sarcastically. "So I ask again, and maybe this time you'll tell me: what is your problem? What are you so mad about?"

Charlie narrowed her eyes, choosing her words carefully. Finally, she said, "I'm tired of being saved by you."

Bass glared at her. "Well, I'm sorry, but leaving you to die is not an option for me."

"Why not?" Charlie snapped back. "What do you even care?"

"Yeah, what the hell do you think, Charlie?" Bass retorted. "I do care. I care about you. I know you think it's because of your uncle or because of some guilt about your family, and that stuff is all true, but I care about you. I'll burn in hell before I let anything happen to you."

Charlie closed her eyes briefly. Honesty. This had probably been a terrible idea. Still, it compelled her to say: "It scares me. Being cared about by you."

Bass barked out a laugh. "What? Why?"

Charlie shrugged. "It's like if you were to try to cuddle with a grizzly bear. It might mean well but it's just as liable to rip you apart on accident."

At that, Bass smirked. "You're not scared of me, Charlotte," he said, his voice once again that barely audible caress.

She sighed. "No. Not anymore. Not really. I don't hate you anymore either." It wasn't her imagination – at those words from her, Bass took a step closer to her, forcing her to look up to see his face. Instead, she stared at his chest right in front of her, where the open vee of his shirt exposed tanned skin. She had a crazy urge to lick him there, when his question broke into her thoughts.

"When did that stop?" he asked.

"What?"

"Hating me."

Charlie replied, "When you saved me in that bar. I was so terrified, even though I tried to hide it. I was going to die, for certain. And then, there you were. And you ripped those guys apart, and the way you looked at me afterward…" She paused. "I couldn't hate you after that." Her voice shook slightly at the confession.

Bass gently placed a hand under her chin and tilted her face up to look at him. Considering for a second or two, he asked her, "And when did you start wanting me?" Charlie's mouth fell open. Before she could say a word, Bass reminded her, "No lies."

Defiantly, Charlie stared back at Bass. "Before that," she answered. He looked confused, so she clarified, "Before the night you saved me. When I first saw you, fighting in New Vegas. That was when."

"You wanted me then?" Bass asked, his voice husky.

Impatiently, Charlie blurted, "Yes, when I saw you fight. Geez." She buried her face in her hands in embarrassment. "What made you so sure I did, anyway?"

Bass ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, pulling her hands away from her face so she couldn't hide from him. "Charlie, come on," he said gently. "We've both felt this for a long time."

"How long?" she asked. "When did you know?"

Bass' mouth hardened into a thin line, and Charlie could see him clench his jaw. Reluctantly, he said, "From the first moment I saw you."

Taken aback, Charlie asked, "What, when you almost had me shot?"

Bass nodded. "Yes, when I threatened your life to manipulate your mother. Yes. I wanted you then. I wanted you then and every moment since."

"Why?" Charlie said, genuinely confused. "I was just a kid."

"I know," Bass said. "You were just a kid, you hated me, you were my prisoner. I had no right, but when I saw you staring down the barrel of that gun, it was like I'd been asleep until that moment. You woke me up. You've owned me ever since then." He added, "Even if sometimes you do piss me the fuck off by reminding me way too much of Miles or your mom."

Charlie laughed slightly, focusing on his last comment rather than the confession he'd just made. Because if it was true that she owned Bass Monroe, that complicated things considerably. Since she was pretty sure she'd been in love with him for longer than she was willing to admit.

Cautiously, Charlie looked up at Bass. No questions came to her lips. She just stared, unblinking.

"Think it's been five minutes," Bass commented, breaking the silence. "Back to your regularly scheduled denial." Looking frustrated, he took a slight step back from Charlie and turned to walk off.

Before he did, Charlie grabbed Bass' forearm, then in one swift motion, brought herself back around in front of him, pressing into him, running her hands along his abs and around his back. She reveled in the feel of finally having her arms full of Bass, ignoring the fact that he was responding only tentatively, barely resting his arms around her body, as if she were made of molten lava.

"Charlotte?" the hoarse question fell in her ear as he ducked his head down next to hers.

"Bass," she breathed. Turning to him so their mouths were only inches apart, she murmured, "I don't want just five minutes of honesty. I want it from now on." Gathering her courage, she declared, "Want you. From now on."

In response to her words, Bass brought his lips to hers and kissed her. Charlie kissed him back enthusiastically, running her hands all over his muscular torso, finally twining her arms around his strong shoulders, holding herself up against him as she lost herself in kissing him. Bass' body was warm and solid against hers. Her breath came in quick gasps as they broke apart, and her heart hammered in her chest.

Hungrily, Bass lowered his mouth to her jawline and then her neck, kissing and scraping her sensitive skin. Charlie moaned, a tortured but ecstatic moan. So this was what it meant to own a man like Sebastian Monroe. What the hell had she been waiting for?

Pushing her forward, Bass pressed her up against a nearby tree, bending to grind his hips into hers. There was no hiding from it: what he wanted, what they both wanted. Charlie had felt wetness gathering between her legs from the minute Bass started manhandling her and invading her personal space. The way she always did, to be honest. Her body responded to his like a tuning fork to a strike, humming at the slightest action by him.

Frantically, Bass ran his hands up under her shirt, pulling it off with her help. Bending down, he licked and suckled her breasts through the thin mesh of her bra. Charlie bucked into him, crying out, sure she would combust from the pleasure before he could even get any further. "Bass," she gasped. "Now."

He pulled away from her and looked into her face. Whatever he saw there made him growl with lust and turn her so her back was to him. He reached in front of her and plunged a hand down the front of her jeans, gathering her wetness on one finger with a groan, then smearing it over her clit. Charlie could feel his breath, hot in her ear. Much as she didn't want him to stop, because God it felt so good, she wanted more. Taking matters into her own hands, Charlie unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down her thighs along with her panties, leaving the fabric tangled at her knees.

"God, Charlie," Bass moaned as his hand gained free access to her sopping pussy. "You're ready for me."

Charlie bent forward, arching her back and sticking her ass out toward Bass, holding her legs as far apart as she could. She heard Bass unzipping his pants behind her, then felt the hard heat of his cock sliding along her slickened folds. She forced herself to remain still but couldn't help whimpering slightly as Bass moved back and forth, coating himself in her wetness.

She felt Bass put his cock at her entrance, felt the slight pressure of just beginning to stretch around him. "Do you want me?" he asked, not pushing into her yet.

"Yes," Charlie said clearly. "Bass, I want you." She moved her hips, pressing down onto him. "Fuck me."

Charlie felt herself stretching around him as Bass pushed inside her. His cock was massive, and he felt amazing, pressing into her inch by inch. Involuntarily, Charlie moaned loudly as he filled her up. Bass' hands gripped her hips as he pulled back out then slammed back in, both of them crying out that time. As she adjusted around him, Bass quickened his pace, fucking her aggressively, stimulating her desperate nerve endings in all the right places.

"I'm… I'm so close, fuck," Charlie said helplessly, unable to believe he was doing this to her. Bass fit her like they were made for each other, and every stroke was sending her closer to the edge. Finally, after just a few minutes, she broke apart around him, gasping and swearing through her orgasm, shuddering around him.

Behind her, Bass growled with masculine satisfaction at her completion, then fucked her harder, with a steadier, more measured rhythm. Charlie felt him stiffening within her, and she knew he was close. She closed her eyes and pushed back against him, wanting nothing more than to feel the sensation of Sebastian Monroe coming inside her.

After a few more hard strokes, Bass' hands dug into her flesh and he held himself hard against her, inside her, as his dick erupted. Charlie felt the warmth of his cum inside her, and she shuddered with the pleasure of it. God, it was better than she could have dreamed.

Quickly, Bass withdrew. They both pulled their clothes back on silently, not wanting to disturb the moment by speaking. Charlie felt suddenly bereft, with Bass being a whole three feet away from her, instead of wrapped around her body. Once she was dressed, she looked up at him to find him looking at her, his face inscrutable.

"Was that okay?" he asked guardedly.

Charlie broke into a beaming smile. "Yeah, it was okay. I love… I loved it," she finished lamely.

Bass also smiled. "Yeah. I loved it, too," he said, pulling her into his arms. Kissing the side of her head, he whispered, "You're amazing, Charlotte."

Leaning her head into his, Charlie said, "By the way. What you said before? That I own you?" She felt Bass nod. "I'm pretty sure you own me, too."

The end.