Charlie's weekend was awful. She and Miles barely spoke to each other, certainly not about Bass, but Miles watched her like a hawk. She didn't bother trying to go anywhere, not wanting to deal with the inevitable interrogation. They watched TV together largely in silence. Miles didn't make her go to the bar with him at all, which was surprising, but Charlie figured he would be able to sense if she tried to sneak around, now that he was paying strict attention. So even when he was at work, she stayed at the apartment, soaking in misery.
On Monday, she was glad for the distraction of class in the morning and work for Professor Jacobs in the afternoon. The professor herself was out of town, and Charlie was relieved not to have to see her. She wasn't sure that she'd be able to hold it together if Marin asked her what was wrong.
Finally, when the evening outside had almost turned to night, Charlie shut down her computer with a sigh. Time to head back to Miles' place. Back to awkward silence and pointed throat clearing and glares.
When Charlie got to the lobby, she stopped dead in her tracks, her heart racing. Bass was there, just as he had been many times, picking her up on evenings like this. Though he looked much more casual than he usually did for their dates, in old jeans and a faded red long-sleeved t-shirt. He hadn't spotted her yet, was just sitting in an armchair, staring thoughtfully into space, one hand over his mouth. Charlie paused and gathered herself for a few seconds before approaching him.
As she drew closer, she saw that Bass looked terrible. He was scruffier than usual, and his eyes were reddened. With her own messy ponytail and makeup-less face, they made quite a pair. She was nearly on top of him before he saw her and sprang to his feet.
"You look like hell," Charlie opened with false bravado, smirking and hitching her bag up higher on her shoulder.
A ghost of a smile flickered across Bass' face, and he replied, "Can we talk somewhere? Preferably with less fluorescent lighting?"
Charlie desperately wanted to talk to Bass, and she couldn't think of any reason not to. "Yeah. Is outside ok?"
Bass pulled his coat off the arm of the chair and gestured that she should lead the way. Charlie zipped her parka up and headed outside, onto one of the footpaths across campus. She had a destination in mind, if they made it that far. If Bass was here for the reason he hoped she was.
They walked in silence for a while, but Charlie was determined to let Bass speak first. Finally, he did. "I'm sorry about Thanksgiving." She was silent, sensing there was more. He paused and continued, "I should have been strong for you, but I wasn't. I wasn't prepared for how badly he took it."
Charlie nodded, her heart light with relief. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have asked you if I could stay with you. You were right, it was too much. I just… when Miles… I panicked."
They both fell silent, and Charlie felt hopeful for the first time in days, even though she still wasn't sure what they were going to do.
"I don't want you to have the wrong idea," Bass said suddenly. "About… us living together."
"What do you mean?" she asked carefully.
"I hope we get to that point eventually. But I don't want to rush into it. I don't want to let myself get pushed too fast and end up fucking things up." Charlie reached out and tucked her arm in his. He pulled her close to him and went on.
"That probably sounds like total commitment-phobic bullshit," he said, sounding frustrated.
Charlie nudged him, "Can you stop arguing with yourself, please? I said I agree with you that it's too soon to live together." Secretly, she was almost giddy at the revelation that, like her, Bass hoped they would someday. "So I guess I'm staying at Miles'."
"Yeah, that probably makes the most sense." Bass sounded extremely displeased, which was just how she was feeling.
"I have another couple weeks of finals left, anyway," she continued. "I'm going to be really busy writing papers and studying. Maybe we should just wait to see each other til after I'm done."
Bass nodded, seemingly deep in thought. "But then you go back to Philly," he said, stating the obvious.
Charlie's heart sank. Their time together was almost over, regardless of what happened in the next couple weeks. She'd been avoiding thinking about it, but he was right. "Yeah."
Suddenly, they reached the destination Charlie had had in mind: a huge Christmas tree set up in a courtyard between several campus buildings. The massive tree glowed with multicolored lights reflecting off huge round ornaments. In the near-darkness of the evening, the atmosphere it created was magical. In silent agreement, she and Bass drew nearer to the tree, until they were standing just a few feet away from it. They were the only people in sight.
Bass pulled Charlie around to face him, and she looked up at the gorgeous face she'd come to know so well, lit soft pink by the Christmas lights. Unable to resist, she ran her hand over the plane of his jaw, then dropped it to her side. Bass looked inexplicably nervous as he stared at her.
"What would you think about me taking you back to school? Driving you, I mean." Bass asked her. "I promise it would be more comfortable than the train," he joked, but it was obvious he was unsure about his question, her answer.
Charlie's face broke into an elated grin. "Really? That would be amazing. Absolutely." A mental image flashed in her mind of her and Bass side by side in his vehicle, facing the road ahead together.
Bass pulled her into his arms, and she nestled her head against him. "There's something else," he said. "I was thinking… I might stay awhile. In Philly."
Rising up on her tiptoes briefly in excitement, Charlie pulled back to look at Bass in disbelief. "For how long?" she asked, not wanting to get her hopes up that this could mean they had a future together beyond the next few weeks.
He shrugged slightly and answered, "For as long as you want me there." His eyes looked into hers searchingly.
In response, Charlie jumped into his arms kissed him hard. She was surprised to find tears burning in her eyes. Bass was going to come to Philly and stay. For her.
Bass returned her kiss, plunging his tongue against hers, opening her mouth wide into his. Despite the cold air, Charlie felt her body heating beneath his touch, his hands pressing her body to his, running up under her coat. They broke apart, and Bass grinned down at her, laughing slightly. "So that works for you?"
Charlie laughed back. "Yeah, that works." She snuggled into his embrace, the lights of the Christmas tree twinkling in the corner of her vision, and she thought that the moment could not be more perfect. She decided to say it out loud. "I'm really happy."
She shivered as Bass' hand traced circles in the small of her back, and she felt herself getting turned on. It had been awhile since she and Bass had gone so long without each other, and her body was responding to his nearness now.
Bass dropped his head to her neck and nuzzled under her ear, then planted soft kisses along her throat. Charlie's breath caught and she moaned quietly into his ear. In response, he caught her up closer and darted his tongue out to taste her skin. "How am I going to go two weeks without you?" he asked, running his hands down to cup her ass.
"I don't know," Charlie groaned, feeling Bass growing hard against her. Giving in to temptation, she darted her hand down to rub lightly over his erection, and he pressed into her hand. She rubbed him more firmly, and he gave a rumbling moan deep in his chest.
The sound of loud talking and laughter echoed across the courtyard as a group of students turned the corner toward them. Bass and Charlie pulled slightly away from each other reluctantly as the group passed by.
"Come on," Bass said, his voice laden with regret. "I'll drive you back to Miles'."
They made their way back to his car, and as they navigated through the dark streets, they made plans for their trip to Philadelphia and for Bass' time there. Charlie suggested a few neighborhoods near her school where he might look to stay, places that would make it easy for them to see each other. How long he would stay wasn't a question either of them could answer yet. For the moment, he just needed a place for a few weeks, to see how things continued to unfold between them.
When they were a few blocks from Miles' place, Charlie suggested that Bass go ahead and stop, that she would walk the rest of the way to avoid the risk that Miles would see them together. Bass agreed, pulling over and throwing on his hazards. He and Charlie shared a long, deep kiss in his front seat. As she leaned away, she sighed.
"It's just two weeks," Bass assured her. "You'll be so busy, you won't even miss me."
Charlie smirked. "Doubtful." She kissed him again and slid out into the cold night.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A week and a half later, the Thursday before she and Bass were to leave for Philadelphia, Charlie and her friends were celebrating. The group had taken their philosophy exam that evening, and they'd headed to a bar immediately afterward. They quickly downed a round of shots, high on the adrenaline of the semester almost being over. Charlie just had one more paper to complete and turn in on Monday, and she'd be free.
As she downed a few more drinks, Charlie grew warm and happy. She and her friends started a rousing game of Never Have I Ever, and the racy questions inevitably led her thoughts to Bass.
Charlie had more fun using the game as a confessional rather than actually trying to get her friends to drink. When it got to her turn, Charlie couldn't resist saying, "Never have I ever… had sex with someone more than twice my age." Then she smiled smugly and raised her drink to her lips, taking a long swing. She was the only one.
A guy she didn't know very well, Jason, was standing next to her and nudged her teasingly. He'd been trying to flirt with her all night, offering to buy her drinks and always working his way over to her side in the group. "Getting it on with grandpa!" he exclaimed.
Charlie smiled enigmatically. "Some women prefer a real man rather than a mere boy," she said.
Jason clutched his hand over his heart, pretending at deep hurt. "I'm crushed! How dare you? Would a boy be able to do this?" Without warning, he grabbed Charlie in his arms. She screamed as he dipped her deeply, nearly tipping her off her feet.
Charlie laughed and punched his arm as he pulled her back up and she regained her balance. "Ass." Jason merely smiled at her.
As it grew later, Charlie couldn't get her mind off of Bass. They had agreed not to see each other until Monday, but she missed him terribly. Yes, she still had one more paper to write, but for tonight, she just wanted to have some fun. With him. Preferably naked.
She asked her friend Janaya if she could borrow her phone, and Janaya tipsily handed it over without asking why. Charlie called Bass' phone, but it went to voice mail. She tried his home: no answer. Frustrated and impatient, Charlie gave the phone back, contemplating her next move. She was overwhelmed by her desire to see Bass, and she had to make it happen.
Suddenly, inspiration struck. It was Thursday night. Bass was undoubtedly fighting. A thrill of excitement shot through her at what she was about to do.
Charlie said goodbye to her friends, who were at this point too drunk to care much about what she was doing. Even Jason had moved on, draping his arm around Janaya and another girl, Whitney, regaling them with a tale of how he'd been followed by the police just for taking a series of wrong turns in front of an embassy. Charlie was profoundly relieved and excited as she stole out into the cold night.
She grabbed a cab outside and slid in. "Um, we're going to a bar, but I don't know the name. I'll have to direct you," she told the driver. As she positioned herself in the middle of the back seat, she saw the time: nearly 1 a.m. Working from her memory of that night months ago with Miles, she directed the cab on the long ride from the campus bars to the sketchy neighborhood where she knew she would find Bass.
Charlie felt a thrill of triumph when they turned onto the familiar street and she saw Bass' car, saw the lantern hanging over the otherwise nondescript door. She paid the cab driver and got out, standing on the street, taking a few deep breaths to collect herself. Charlie was dressed to kill, in knee-high black heeled boots and skintight dark jeans, with a dark green low cut tank top that zipped up the back under her long black wool coat. She felt powerful and sexy, ready to see Bass in his element, this time as his woman rather than as a near stranger.
Charlie entered the bar and worked her way toward the back room. Though it was warm inside, she kept her coat on, remembering how the men had reacted to her last time. She heard a tinny voice announcing something over the PA, but the din of the crowd drowned it out.
When she reached the painted black door, Charlie addressed the bouncer sitting there, a different man from the one she'd seen with Miles. "I'm here to see Bass Monroe," she said, jutting her chin forward in what she hoped was a confident manner.
This man was chattier than the previous bouncer. "Oh you are?" he said mockingly. "Well what's the password, shortcake?"
Charlie was taken aback. Password? Miles hadn't had to give any password. Narrowing her eyes, Charlie stared directly into the bouncer's eyes and said flatly, "Didn't think I needed a password as long as I had cash." She shrugged out of her coat, looping it over her arm, exposing her sexy outfit. "Was I wrong?"
The bouncer burst into appreciative laughter. Shaking his head, he said through guffaws, "I'm just fucking with you. Go on, go on." He gestured her toward the door, not even taking her money. Before he could change his mind, Charlie hustled forward.
The back bar was quieter, though still packed with people. No one harassed her upon her entrance this time, which was a relief. Several men gawked in her direction, but gawking she could handle. Charlie also noticed that she wasn't the only woman present this time. There were several women in skimpy outfits standing around, improbably more beautiful than the men they appeared to be with. And the bartender was a woman. Flora.
Charlie didn't see Bass. Figuring he would show up eventually, she made her way up to the corner of the bar, squeezing through the crowd until she was pressed up to the shiny wood. She tossed her coat in the corner on top of several that were already lying there. It was that, or carry it around with her all night, which she wasn't in the mood to do.
Flora was pulling beers, shot a glance in Charlie's direction, "What can I get you?"
"Vodka soda," Charlie called. Flora nodded, served the drink, and took Charlie's money. Charlie positioned herself facing out into the room, keeping watch for Bass. A few minutes later, Flora came over to where she stood and started preparing a tray of shots.
"You were here before," Flora stated. "With Bass' friend Miles."
Charlie looked at her, surprised. "Yeah, I was. How do you remember that?"
Flora shrugged. "Not too many chicks come in here who aren't working girls." She nodded around at the other women Charlie had seen as she came in. "Plus that was the night Bass almost died." Charlie could hear the pain and worry in her voice, even these months later.
"Are you and Bass close?" Charlie asked impulsively, liquor loosening her inhibitions.
At this, Flora looked up, irritated. "Are you?" she asked pointedly. Not waiting for an answer, she picked up the tray of shots and walked away.
Charlie was somewhat embarrassed and took a swig of her drink. She felt light-headed and bold and wanted someone to talk to other than the unfriendly Flora. Pushing away from the bar, she made her way unsteadily across the room, making flirtatious eye contact with a few men as she did, but not pausing.
Above her head, the PA speakers buzzed, and a voice said, "In the ring now, Denzer and Monroe. Denzer and Monroe." Charlie was just a few steps away from the ring where she'd seen Bass fight before. She stopped short, looking around frantically for Bass, unsure if she wanted him to see her or not.
Finally, she spotted him, sauntering into the ring from the opposite side. Unlike the last time she'd seen him fight, he looked strong, serious, and deadly. He was again shirtless, wearing light gray slacks and barefoot. And, Charlie noticed, he was clean. He hadn't fought yet that night. His eyes were focused with fierce intensity on his opponent, a slightly shorter man with spiky yellow hair.
The toady referee scurried into the ring and babbled something Charlie couldn't make out. Then he stepped back and the two men in the ring started circling each other. Denzer lunged toward Bass, and unlike last time, this time Bass didn't take a hit. He shot his arm up to block his opponent, and with his other fist landed a harsh blow to his jaw, then his ear. Bass leapt back a few feet, smoothly, and Denzer pursued, throwing his whole body at Bass. They grappled briefly, and Bass threw him off of him, then landed a powerful kick to his torso.
Denzer staggered backward, and this time Bass came toward him, kicking him again in the ribcage. Crying out in pain, Denzer bent to protect himself, and Bass hit him with an unrestrained uppercut. Charlie caught Bass smiling grimly as he pummeled Denzer, blood spurting from the man's mouth all over Bass' face and chest. Denzer turned away to protect his face, and Bass kicked him solidly in the side, sending Denzer flying down to his knees.
Bass waited as the other man staggered up from the floor, breathing heavily, watching him, giving him a chance to right himself. With a savage scream, Denzer suddenly turned and flung himself at Bass, landing two hard punches to his face before Bass could react. Then he did, bellowing with fury, grabbing Denzer's arm and yanking it back violently, holding him sideways as he hit Denzer with his free hand.
Denzer slowly grew limp under Bass' blows, and when Bass released his arm and shoved him away, he crumpled to the ground. After several seconds, he'd still made no effort to get up, and the referee cautiously stepped toward Bass and raised his hand in victory. The crowd around Charlie burst into appreciative applause, seemingly unconcerned with the badly beaten Denzer, still huddled on the ground.
A couple of the "working girls" as Flora had called him, approached Bass, their eyes wide and eager. He literally shrugged them off, stepping away to grab a towel and bottle of beer from someone nearby. As he held the bottle to his lips and drank greedily, Charlie moved toward him and stepped into his line of sight.
When their eyes met, Bass lowered the bottle slowly, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. After a beat, he sprang into action, putting the bottle on the ground, stepping toward Charlie and closing the distance between them. He grabbed her arm roughly, almost painfully.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, propelling her across the room. Charlie was too startled to respond, trailing along with him, her heart in her throat. This was not the reaction she had expected.
Bass pulled her down a back hallway, around a corner, and up a narrow, dark set of stairs. At the top of the stairs was another hallway, lined with doors. Looking side to side quickly, he dragged her into one of them. Bass kicked the door shut behind them and faced her, looking furious. Charlie's mouth went dry.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Bass asked her again, clearly struggling to keep control of his temper, his body coiled with tension.
For a few seconds, Charlie was silent as she got her bearings. The liquor in her system had rendered her slower than usual. She processed that they were in a tiny, dimly lit room with just enough room for a couch and a small footlocker. The noises of the bar downstairs were still audible through the floor. Looking back up at Bass, a coil of excitement shot through her. He looked insanely sexy, glaring at her, his blue eyes dark, his body still covered in sweat and blood from the fight, one of his eyes slightly blackened from the hits he'd taken. Last time she'd seen him like this, she'd had to look but not touch. Not this time.
Charlie stepped toward him in what she hoped was an alluring manner. "I wanted to see you," she said. She reached her hands up and rested them on Bass' chest. As if her touch had burned him, he grabbed her wrists and shoved her arms back down.
"Don't. Touch me," he commanded. Charlie frowned, frustrated. Could Bass really be this angry with her?
"Seriously?" she asked. "You're pissed off that I'm here?"
Bass' mouth fell open as he exhaled with exasperation. "I thought I made it clear that I don't want to share this part of my life with you." His hands were clenched at his sides as he stared her down.
Looking into his eyes, Charlie suddenly realized. He wasn't pissed. He was ashamed. Worried. About what she would think, how she would react to seeing him here, to this dirty, seedy, bloody world, so different from her own.
Careful not to touch him again, Charlie stepped incrementally closer to Bass. "What if I want you to share it? What if I think it's sexy?"
At that, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. "It's not sexy. It's fucked up. I'm fucked up." His words were laced with bitterness, but he seemed to be prodding her, testing her.
"You're not fucked up," Charlie said in a low voice, trying to show him how sincere she was, aching to hold him.
"Oh no?" he spat. "How's this for fucked up: You want to know why I fight? You've asked me enough times. I fight because I lost my family. They died. And every time I step into that fucking ring, I think, maybe this time, I'll die too. And somehow that makes it better." His voice cracked on the last sentence, and he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.
Charlie waited, and Bass opened his eyes, adding, "You don't need to be around all this."
She wasn't sure whether he meant the bar, the fighting, or him and his issues, but she didn't care. "Wherever you are is where I need to be," she said softly, still remaining motionless.
Bass regarded her edgily, not responding. She decided to chance it, reaching for him again. This time, he didn't push her away as she ran her hands across his torso and wrapped her arms around his waist. He didn't look down at her as she drew herself into him, pressing her lips into his shoulder.
"Charlie," he said. "What are you doing?"
"What do you think? I want you, Bass."
Wrong answer. This seemed to set him off again, as he stepped back from her, causing her arms to fall to her sides. "Here?" he said in shock. "Do you even know where we are? This is where guys take the whores from downstairs to fuck them."
"So?"
"So, are you a whore?" he demanded. "You want me to fuck you like a whore?" Despite his antagonistic words, it appeared that Bass was ready to do just that.
Charlie looked at him, breathing hard. It was insane, but she couldn't remember ever being so turned on, with Bass vulnerable one second and angry the next, talking dirty at her, looking like he was ready to pounce.
"I want you to fuck me however you want to," she answered, meaning every word.
Bass ran both hands roughly over his face and back through his hair. Then, seeming to come to a decision, he stepped forward, abruptly closing the distance between them. He grabbed Charlie into his arms, finally—finally!—lowering his head and kissing her. Charlie roughly tangled her fingers in his hair, feeling weightless as he pulled her up off the ground slightly, deepening their kiss.
Suddenly, Bass released her, and she crashed to her feet, flailing for balance. Wrapping one arm around her waist, Bass pulled her into him again, placing his hand in the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging her head backward painfully. She cried out in pleasure, and he ran his teeth down the exposed line of her throat. Charlie's breath was coming in short gasps, and she let out a sharp "ooh" as he bit down on her tender flesh.
"This is why you came here?" he asked into her ear, keeping her still with the hand in her hair, running his other hand up over her breast, squeezing it.
"Yes," Charlie answered, pleading, pressing her body into his touch, wanting more of him.
Bass laughed, a dark laugh of self-satisfaction. "Couldn't even wait four more days 'til we left for Philly," he stated.
"I was… going crazy," she murmured, her eyes half closed. Then, focusing for a moment on him, dead serious, she added, "I missed you."
With a whispered fuck, Bass covered her mouth with his again, kissing her hard, releasing her hair, his hands working at the zipper on the back of her shirt. He got it down and pulled her tank top toward him and off her body, leaving her standing before him in her boots, jeans, and a red strapless bra.
Bass stepped back to admire her, and Charlie let him look his fill, not feeling self-conscious after their many weeks together. She knew that seeing her half-naked before she stripped down drove Bass wild, and she was more than happy to oblige once she realized he liked what he saw, every bit of it.
"Any way to get rid of those jeans but keep the boots?" he asked, his voice ragged, his eyes bright with arousal.
Thinking quickly, Charlie commanded him, "Turn around." He did, and she sat down on the couch, unzipping her boots and taking them and her socks off. She shimmied out of her jeans, leaving her black lacy thong on. Briefly, she wished she'd worn a matched underwear set, but she figured Bass wouldn't mind too much. Charlie zipped her boots back on over her now-bare legs, kicked her jeans and socks under the couch, and stood up.
"Okay," she said. Bass turned around slowly, smirking. When he saw her, the smirk fell off his face, replaced by a dumbstruck look of pure lust as he took in the sight of Charlie, standing proudly in her knee-high black leather boots, tiny black thong panties, and red lacy bra, her pert breasts straining up out of the cups.
"Holy fuck," he said, his hands immediately moving to undo his fly. He pulled his cock out, and Charlie could see it was rock hard and glistening with precum, felt wetness pooling between her legs in response. Bass fixed her with a hot stare as he pumped himself deliberately. "You're like a fucking wet dream."
"But I'm real," she said impatiently, ready for him to touch her again.
Bass laughed, sounding slightly out of breath. "Yeah, you are," he agreed, his cock still in his hand. "Lay down on the couch."
Charlie pouted. "Bass, get over here," she protested.
"You came here looking for me," he reminded her sternly. "No one invited you. My place, my rules." The grin playing on the corners of his mouth let her know he was teasing, but he expected to be obeyed.
Sighing, Charlie laid down on the cracked red vinyl of the couch, resting her back on one of the armrests, her legs bent up in front of her. "I probably just caught about eight STDs," she whined. "Now what?"
"Spread your legs," he said. Charlie thrilled, realizing where she'd heard him say that before. The first time they'd had phone sex, months ago. It felt a lifetime away, hearing that anonymous, sexy voice on the phone that turned out to be Bass, her Bass. At that moment, she decided to give in to wherever he was taking her, just as she had in those first conversations. She pulled her right leg in high along the back of the couch and lowered her left leg to the floor, resting on her high heel, pushing her legs as far apart as she could, draping her arms over her knees.
She heard Bass gasp as she moved. He stepped around so he was square to her, and he stared at her spread open below him. Even though Charlie was used to him looking at her, this was a bit much, and she felt her face growing hot.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," he said. "Touch yourself for me."
Without hesitation, Charlie slid her right hand down her pelvis and into her panties, pushing her fingers into her slit. She bucked up slightly and closed her eyes at the contact—she was already so aroused. Messily, she spread her moisture over her folds, rubbing her fingers in circles, hitting her clit at the angle she liked. The backs of her fingers pressed uncomfortably against the fabric of her panties—normally she would just take them off. But Bass wanted them on.
Bass made a strained hissing sound as she worked, and she opened her eyes to see Bass stroking himself in time to her rhythm, watching her hand intently. Charlie tilted her hips up and pushed her fingers inside herself, desperate to be filled, despite knowing that nothing could do it for her but Bass. An involuntary moan escaped from her mouth as she did, and she quickly pulled her hand back up to press harder into her clit. She felt her hard nipples poking into the fabric of her bra as she breathed hard, suddenly so close to orgasm. Imagining Bass mounting her, fucking her, sent her over the edge, and she bit her lip hard as she came quietly, her brow furrowed in pleasure, her pussy gushing moisture over her hand.
As she came down from her high, she was dimly aware of her fantasy coming true as Bass dropped on top of her on the couch, grabbing her hand that had been in her pussy and twining it into his own, pushing it down near her head. "So wet," he muttered. With his other hand, he pulled her soaked panties to one side, exposing her swollen lips. He ran his fingers firmly over her opening and over her orgasm-sensitive clit, causing her to cry out.
Then, holding her panties to the side, he lined his cock up with her entrance. Charlie felt just the tip pressing into her and thought she would die if she didn't get more. He was so hot, so hard, and she was so ready, her pussy aching with need for him. "Bass," she said. "Please."
He paused, pushed his hips into her, letting his cock sink in a tiny bit further. "Please what?" he asked her.
Charlie looked at him defiantly, not responding, trying to push herself down onto him, but his hand held her in place. Bass fucked her shallowly with just the tip of his cock, working his hips with utter control. Charlie wasn't sure she could hold out longer than him. It felt so delicious, and she wanted more of him, all of him, inside her, so badly. She threw her head back and moaned with frustration.
"Something wrong?" he asked, his voice tight through his smile. "Tell me what you want, Charlie. Say it."
She couldn't take it any more. Pulling her head up, she begged, "Fuck me, Bass. Please, give it to me."
Finally, Bass impaled her with his cock, roaring with passion, slamming into her, fucking her hard and fast. Charlie was pinned beneath his body. It felt like every bit of his weight was going into each thrust of his cock inside her. Charlie cried out with pleasure as the friction gave relief to her coiled insides. Bass was finally filling her, stretching her. She moved down as Bass thrust up, pushing him even deeper inside her. Spreading her legs as wide as she could, she pulled her left knee to her chest, opening up for him. Noticing what she'd done, Bass moved his hands to her knees, just above her boots, holding her legs open in front of him as he fucked her.
"So… fucking… hot," he groaned, slowing his pace somewhat, clearly wanting to make it last. He ran his hands over her boots, maneuvering to get her legs up over his shoulders, tight in to his neck, and then he started fucking her faster again. The new angle made her feel tighter, pushed everything together. Charlie could feel her panties rubbing against her pussy as Bass moved in and out of her.
Charlie was bent nearly in half below him, her heels up in the air as Bass plunged even deeper inside her. She loved being at his mercy but was somewhat uncomfortable, barely able to move.
"Bass," she said, pushing at his shoulder, lowering her legs down off of him. "Sit back." He did as she asked, pulling out of her and settling back into the center cushion of the couch, his feet planted on the floor in front of him.
Somewhat awkwardly, Charlie unrolled herself, having some difficulty standing up, and teetered to her feet in front of Bass. He watched her intensely, his cock standing straight up out of his pants, covered with both their moisture. Charlie stretched her arms behind her and unclasped her bra, tossing it aside. As she did, she saw Bass removing his final pieces of clothing, so he sat naked before her.
Charlie ran her hands over her breasts, savoring the feeling of stimulation to her nipples. Bass groaned, and she did it again, cupping her breasts in her hands and pinching the nipples between her fingers. Then she hooked her thumbs around her panties and lowered them down her legs, feeling the relief of the cool air on her aroused cunt. She pulled them off around one boot, then the other, stepping out of them. Then she grasped the zipper of her boot to take it off, as well.
"No!" Bass said urgently, his voice croaking slightly. "Leave them on."
Quirking an eyebrow at him, Charlie dropped the zipper and stood up straight. Bass stared up at her, breathing hard, his mouth slightly agape.
"Mmm, that's better," she moaned, running her hands over her now-naked body. She dipped a hand briefly between her legs, spreading her lips apart, electrifying her nerve endings. Charlie saw Bass moving to get up and stepped forward, bending down to put a hand on his chest to still him. Then she climbed onto Bass' lap, one leg on either side of his, his cock pointed up and resting on her mound.
Reaching down, Charlie grasped Bass' cock in her hand, squeezing it slightly, savoring the hard feeling of his arousal. Then she pushed herself up slightly with her legs, lining him up, and sank down onto his length. As his girth filled her again, she let out a whimper. Charlie began to ride him, impaling herself on his cock over and over, savoring the way his thickness separated her folds, his tip hit her deep inside. Rolling her hips, she worked him into her at every angle, holding onto his shoulders. She found the perfect pace and started crying out involuntarily, "Oh… oh… oh…"
Bass grabbed onto Charlie's ass as she rode him, cried out with pleasure for him. Pushing his face into her neck, he groaned, "Fuck. Such a needy little slut for me." In response, Charlie rode him even more vigorously, pounding her clit into his pubic bone. Bass grabbed the heels of her boots and yanked her legs forward, simultaneously pushing his hips up into her, ramming her with his cock in a sharp stroke. At that, she came undone again, emitting a high-pitched scream of ecstasy.
Bass kept thrusting up into her as she rode out her orgasm, pistoning his cock up and down steadily. His hands had moved back to her ass, and he grasped her firmly, moving her over his cock, as he made determined grunting noises. He grew louder and louder, until with a final groan, he pulled her down and held her in place. Charlie felt him shaking slightly as his cock pulsed inside her, filling her with his cum.
They sat like that for several long seconds, Charlie savoring the feeling of Bass inside her and his arms around her as she relaxed against him. But the couch wasn't exactly comfortable for cuddling, so they got up. Charlie did finally take off her boots, so she could get dressed. Bass put his pants back on, and then he opened the footlocker that Charlie had noticed when they came in. He pulled out the rest of his clothes, his jacket and shoes, and his personal effects. Quickly, Bass got dressed, putting his stuff in his pockets, and donned his leather jacket.
Glancing at Charlie in confusion, he asked her, "Don't you have a coat?"
"I left it downstairs," she explained.
Nodding, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her lightly. "I'm glad you came here tonight," he said.
"You're not mad?" Charlie asked, rubbing her hands along the soft leather over his shoulders, inhaling the familiar scent.
Bass shook his head. "I'm not mad. But I don't want you coming back here. We leave for Philly on Monday—can you promise me you'll stay away between now and then?"
Charlie frowned. She thought Bass had gotten past shutting her out, hiding from her. "Are you fighting again before we go?" she asked. In response, she saw his eyes harden. He didn't answer, and she felt her ire flaring. "Bass! We are not going back to this. Why can't you just be honest with me?"
"Sorry. You're right," he said. Sighing heavily, he added, "I've been trying pretend that this doesn't exist, for you. Pretend I'm not fucked up, that I'm just like other guys."
Charlie objected, "But you're not like other guys. That's what I love about you." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized what she'd said and clamped her lips shut. Charlie hoped that her admission hadn't registered with Bass, but that seemed unlikely as he held her even more tightly in response.
"If that's true, then I'm the luckiest goddamn guy in the world," Bass said with a tender smile. A pause, then, "And yes. I'm fighting Saturday night."
Charlie sighed with relief that he'd finally been honest with her, that he hadn't seemed appalled by what she'd told him. "Okay. Thank you."
Taking her hand, he led her toward the door. "Come on, let's get out of here. I'll drive you home." He paused, then amended, "Well, to within a few blocks anyway."
He did just that, and as Charlie moved to get out of the car, he took her hand, holding her back. "Hey," he started. Charlie met his eyes and saw joy and anticipation there as he said, "Four more days." Her smile matched his as she nodded, giving him one last kiss as they said goodnight.
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