The scent of the ocean in her hair
5.
She likes how the sound of the ocean changes now the first stars appear in the night sky. Charlie watches them from her place outside and close to Miles' familiar shoulders.
Miles is sitting next to her. His fingers are casually wrapped around the bottle they are sharing. Bass is sitting across from them. The subtle light of a group of candles is playing with the deep green glass of the bottle.
She had found some almost forgotten candles in one of the kitchen cabinets and she had taken them with her when she had walked of the steps of the porch. The candles cast shadows against the wooden wall of the house and the branches of the trees close to the house.
The light adds depth to the metallic colours of Miles' necklace. It adds more texture to Bass' scruff. It reveals all the different golden colours in her eyes.
The house and trees are a natural shield to create a space under the stars close to the ocean to drink and to just be for a while. The golden warmth of a day at the beach has moved into those hours before midnight when the sky is clear and the night is still so young. Nobody even makes an attempt to get up and some sleep.
When Bass puts the bottle to his lips her eyes have to follow the lines of his moustache that flow into his beard. She can't stop. Not now she knows how that mouth feels against hers. Not now she knows how he tastes.
Bass tries to focus on damn bottle in his hands. But the candles add a soft glow that touches her damn skin. He gives her the bottle when it is her turn. He can't ignore the way she accepts it without a single moment of loathing or doubt. Fuck.
Charlie takes another sip and when she can feel the burn of the booze in the back of her throat, it warms her from within. His eyes meet hers and everything that happened in the shadow of a rock alcove, rushes back to her.
She puts the bottle to her lips again and refuses to look away. This is them and has been them for such a long time now. Eyes locking, stares that burn.
Bass untangles his eyes from hers. Miles demands more whiskey and Charlie grins at him before she hands over the bottle to him.
'Hey remember that girl in that bar who was so drunk that she almost gave you a fucking lap dance after just one drink?' Bass asks Miles. His voice is laced with smug pride.
Charlie is used to Miles telling Bass to shut up at this point. She is used to the mocking tone in Bass' voice when he apologizes to Miles right after that. But tonight, they keep on talking when memories rush back to the present.
'Megan...' Miles points at Bass with the bottle in his hands when he answers him. His grin is filled with slow amused pride for remembering her name. Bass can't help but grin back at him.
And she drinks and just watches the two men who are sitting so close to her. Two identical grins appear on their faces, and it changes them in so many ways that it almost hurts.
They include her in their stories that makes her heart ache for the both of them in a strange new way and yet, they fill her with something good. So she drinks, shuts up and just listens to the both of them.
Bass can't fucking believe what is happening. He sees his brother, sitting right there in front of him. Miles makes another lame joke. But Bass doesn't give a shit about that joke. What he does give a shit about is how that damn joke makes Charlie laugh so hard that the sound of her laughter fills the space between them. His eyes won't let go of her and his brother.
Bass' heart beats faster inside his chest. Charlie laughs. Hell, Miles even smiles. He can't remember the last time he saw him like this, so like the man he used to know. Charlie and him, they are so alike that it almost breaks his fucking heart. He swallows that last thought away.
The hours slowly melt into the night with the dance of the small flames of the candles. Charlie yawns. When her eyes start to feel heavy because of a day filled with sea air and sunlight on her skin, she finally gets up. She stretches and the sand on the wooden floor of the porch tickles her feet.
'Night kid.' Miles' voice is filled with less burden than he usually carries with him.
'Night.' She grins at him.
'Goodnight. ' Bass' voice is low while it breaks the quietness of the night. His eyes say even more. Bass can taste the Charlotte in the air. And hell, maybe she does too.
She is standing close to the kitchen door. And right before she walks inside, his eyes are so focussed on her that she can't move or look away. The sound of her voice changes, but lucky for her, her uncle is drunk enough to not notice it.
'Goodnight.' The unspoken Bass gets lost in the way he looks at her.
Dammit. The heat in the small space around him irritates him. It's too damn hot in here to have the memory of her soft, full tits against his chest on repeat in his damn head.
Sitting close to Miles and across from her tonight had quickly turned into torture and him telling himself to stop thinking with the wrong head. They had shared a bottle of whiskey. But he had only been able to taste her.
Bass curses in the dark. He kicks the sheets away from his thighs. He sits up and while his bare feet touch the wood of the floor, he considers to go to the kitchen to grab the bottle Miles had left there on the kitchen counter. But whiskey won't stop him wanting her.
It won't stop his mind asking that fucking stupid question of what it would be like, to open that damn bra of hers and to cup her tits with his hands. He can almost feel them against the palms of his hands. He tells himself to stop being a fucking sixteen year old. It's never going to happen.
'Fuck..' he curses again before he moves his hand over his face.
Charlie lazily moves her fingers through her hair. The pillow under her head is soft, the bed big enough to be comfortable.
She listens to the ocean. Her room is filled with shadows and the breeze that has travelled from the ocean to her small window. She had refused to wash of the salt of the ocean when sunset was close.
It's dark. It's quiet. Her thoughts are filled with him. And she remembers how Bass had taken his time to slowly kiss her. She remembers how she had let him. She remembers hot breath and a hard body so close to hers. She remembers how out of breath she was by the time he had slowed down the kiss.
She remembers the raw burning sadness in his eyes when he finally stepped away from her.
And every time she is back with her feet in the warm sand of the beach and her hands on his strong, wide upper arms, her mind takes her back to him and that moment that lingers here with her in this room.
She can practically hear the curse when his mouth is still on hers. She can feel the struggle in the way he is breathing and holding her. Calloused fingers in her hair, a strong masculine hand gently on the skin of her shoulder blades under her tank. She can feel more of his struggle when he is slowing down this moment. And when he pulls his mouth away from hers, she can't step away. She should. But she just leans into him and he lets her. Her forehead touches his scruff and his hand is still there against her back.
She curses at herself for the way she had wanted to let the moment burn longer. She had wanted to try that kiss, but him letting her close when she had let herself lean into him is a completely different line she had crossed with him.
She doesn't want to cross it with Monroe. She doesn't want to cross it with anyone. Not after everything her life has been.
It had been easy, too easy, to get lost in him. He had made it easy and tempting and everything that a part inside of her screamed for, before he had stepped away and they had walked back to Miles.
She has left her window open, unable to shut out the night breeze. She doesn't want to sleep. But just as much as she craves to keep on listening to the ocean, she can't stop thinking of him.
Today has made her feel alive. Seen. Tomorrow they will get back on the road and they will go back to their lives. To everything that is waiting there. Tomorrow everything could change again. It probably will. That is her life. Their lives. She knows that. She will never not know that.
But there is something about today. And as long there is ocean salt on her skin, she refuses to let go of today.
The unexpected sound of her in the hallway stopping on the other side of his door, pump a wave of adrenaline through his body. Years of surviving in a blackout world and more years of ruling a Republic have taught him to never, ever let his guard down.
Bass looks at his damn door opening in the middle of the fucking night. And then, it is her and all of her, there.
The silence lingering in the house and the cool metal of the doorknob against her hand accompany her while she can feel his eyes roaming over her body. Charlie finds him awake and sitting on the edge of the bed in the middle of the room. His sheets are a mess, his dark blonde sweaty curls too.
His leather jacket hangs over a chair in the corner of the room. His boots are on the floor. His swords are leaning against the side of the bed. His gun is on the nightstand.
When she closes the door behind her, she tells the wild rhythm of her heartbeat to slow down. She knows she wants this. And she is done walking away from what she wants.
In the middle of a lot of curses inside is head his mind makes an inventory. Panties. Tank. No bra. Fucking hell.
It's the way she moves her tongue over her bottom lip that tells him she is nervous. She is hiding it well but he knows her well enough by now. And there is something heavy in the air that makes his heart beat inside a chest the way it does when he dives into another fight.
He soaks up how she starts walking to his damn bed without even blinking. And for one moment he knows how her prey feels, when she is out there in the woods and hunting. Her steps are slow but certain and with every step she takes from the door to him, he feels more steel lust.
'Can't sleep?' His voice is filled with smugness but she can see how he swallows.
And another heartbeat tells her he knows why she is here. Another look at him and the steel want in his eyes tells her how much she is wanted here.
She doesn't stop until she reaches his bed. Until she reaches him. 'Shut up.'
'All right.' Bass' voice is low and warmth and husky want. There is amusement in his tone that moves to the blue of his eyes.
And then, he just watches her.
She puts her hand on his shoulder to balance herself. She straddles him and slowly lands on hard thighs. Her knees touch the soft mattress under her. The inside of her legs meet his upper legs.
Her hands move around his face so she can find the right angle. She needs him to shut up. She needs this. So, this time, she kisses him. Long and hard.
He knows he should stop this. Fuck, he does. But he doesn't want to. He wants her here in his fucking lap. His mind races to all the different things he ever wanted to try with her.
His dick throbs between her legs and so close to her panties. And he can't fucking resists to let her know how hard he is and what he could do if she lets him.
Charlie can feel him shift under her so his dick meets her clit and her mind screams only one thing. Arrogant, smug asshole.
Bass has to fight back a satisfied grin at her angry response. The way her lips meet his now is more violent. He kisses her harder until his tongue soothes her irritation and he can feel her leaning into him more.
He lazily moves his hand through her hair. He is letting her decide where she wants to take this.
Charlie feels his wide, hard thighs behind her. Her panties melt against the deep blonde curls above his hard cock. Her hands move over his bare chest, her fingers caress the skin and flow to wide shoulders. With her free hand she makes a trail from her neck to her breasts and she doesn't stop before she can feel the wet, heated sensitive skin inside of her panties.
It is powerful and everything, the way he looks at her when she is slowly deciding what to do with him. She rubs herself over his cock. Slow and hard and soft. Her breathing is deeper now. She doesn't take off her panties when she demands his cock all to herself.
She just moves the wet fabric out of the way with slippery fingers. She never looks away. His eyes pierce into hers. She wants him to know it is her, her warmth and wetness that move around his wide cock now. And one second, one heartbeat of steel blue tell her he needs her to know it is him, deep and hard inside of her.
Bass grunts when he can feel her wrapped around him and she fucking stops moving. This time he is not one some fucking beach, thinking of her. Thinking of her hair against his chest and his hands around her hips. Thinking of how she would look when she would ride him. This time she is here.
When she finally makes a choice for a slow, deadly deep rhythm , she is there. He needs to remind himself over and over again. His fingers are digging deeper into her skin and thighs.
She watches him watch her. And she can just feel it, that moment when Monroe claims her. All of her. She should be offended. Pissed. She should stop this. But the harsh grip of his hands on her hips only makes her want more.
Bass can't control himself anymore. He moves his arms around her back and yanks her closer to where he needs to feel her. Her breasts press against his chest. One large hand disappears into her hair. His kiss is hungry. His grunt that fills the quiet room is deep.
'Put your legs around me...' his voice is low and hoarse.
It's an order she wants to rebel against but it feels to good to fight him. There is more than enough time for that tomorrow.
Bass moves them both to the middle of the bed. She looks into hungry blue and he finds a need in her eyes that almost makes it too hard to look at her and think about every single that is them and that is in their way. But this is her, this is Charlotte so he keeps looking at her.
He wraps his arms around her middle to help her find the rhythm she needs. He feels his dick throb inside of her and fuck he needs to come. But this is not about him, this is about her first.
She leans back. Her hands are on the mattress behind her now to make room for his mouth on her breasts.
'Fucking hell...' he curses, when she gives him a view of her perfect tits, flat stomach and her wet, deep blonde curls so close to his cock. She makes it impossible to not watch how he fucks her, to not see how hot and tight she is. It just makes him lose himself in her even more.
He licks the outside of her right breast before he moves his lips over her nipple. She is breaking every rule that she unknowingly made. Her hands have to move through his hair when his mouth is on her skin. He kisses and licks his way to her neck and from her throat to the sensitive space between her breasts. And all she can is feel him deep inside of her.
Sweat moves from his forehead and over the strong lines of his neck to his chest. Bass can only watch and fuck her. But then, she closes her eyes and her breathing becomes harsher and more out of control. And the only place where he wants her to come, is wrapped against his damn chest and in his fucking arms with her legs wrapped around his damn middle.
Charlie melts around him and soaks up his harsh grunts when her orgasm is about to make her have to surrender in a way she never did to Monroe.
Something inside of her is screaming that they are crossing a new line. But then, warm, large hands wrap around her body. Creating a space where it is her and the way he breathes and smells and tastes and feels against her skin. And without a thought she lets go, hidden in his arms and with her body wrapped around him.
Author's Note I am working on chapter six and the epilogue. I am also planning a new story and the first chapter is almost done. I hope I can share that with all of you soon. Thank you to all of you for your support and for sharing the love we have for fan fiction, Revolution and stories! Love from Love
