Warning: pretty explicit lemon ahead.

Enjoy :)

There was a lot that could go wrong with the plan. Charlie rubbed the inside of her wrist where the Militia had branded her. Should anyone see that mark, it would be over for all of them. The Patriots would take her for questioning, and then what would she say?

"You'll be fine."

Charlie looked up and saw Monroe stepping out of the shadows. She glared at him, tense from nerves. "I'm beginning to think I'm your best friend. What do you want?"

He glanced down where she was still rubbing the M scar on her wrist. "That bothering you?"

She dropped her hands immediately and sneered. "Not particularly."

Monroe nodded but in a way that let her know he knew she was lying. He took a seat next to her.

She expelled a breath and tried to keep her mind from jumping all over the place. In just a few hours, she'd be on a train to the middle of nowhere, all alone, in enemy territory. "I'm just thinking about what to say if they see it."

"If they see that mark," Monroe said, angling his head to look at her arm, "then they'll assume you were in the Militia." He shrugged. "Go along with it."

She stared at him. Go along with it?

"Everyone hates me because they think I nuked my own people, Charlie. Including what's left of my army. Work with that. I'm sure you'll be able to draw inspiration from somewhere."

That was actually a pretty good idea. "Yeah, I'm sure I will." Charlie stood up to leave.

"You know, I might deserve a lot of people's hate for a lot of different things, but not that."

Charlie stared down at him. "What do you want me to say? I don't care that people hate you. I hate you."

He looked up at her with scorn. "Yeah? Is that right? I'm not so sure."

A brief incredulous laugh escaped her. "What?"

He stood up. "You heard me."

In the ensuing silence, she struggled to form an answer to his ludicrous claim. "What insane logic are you working with that makes you think I don't hate you?"

He shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. You take my side against Miles and your mom all the time. You slept with my son. You let me train you." He stepped closer and she frowned. "You let me touch you. Those aren't the actions of hate, Charlie."

Now her eyes were wide with shock. How in the hell could he have interpreted her actions so badly?

"I've hated people, Charlie. You don't hate me. You used to," he conceded, "but not anymore."

"You… You're insane. I loathe you. You killed my dad."

"No, I didn't."

"You got him killed," she revised, raising her voice.

"His death was an accident."

"You killed my brother, you kept my mom from me half my life, and you're just, in general, a horrible person. Those are reasons enough to hate you." She was so close to losing her temper and punching him in the throat.

"Danny getting killed is the biggest regret of my life," he admitted. "But your mom helped destroy the world. She left you of her own free will to come to Miles. What happened to her is her own fault. And your right, I'm a horrible person and I've done terrible things. Things I never would've done under different circumstances. If I'm a monster, it's because the world made me that way."

Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. A fight she was losing. "I can never forgive you, no matter what you say. I'm a horrible person too." A sudden tear slipped down her cheek but she didn't wipe it away. "And I've also done terrible things. Things I never would've done had your men not come to my village that day." She turned away from him. "All the bad in my life I associate with you. Whether you deserve it all or not."

He was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then he said, "Okay, Charlie. I can live with that."

She felt him come up close behind her and some part of her liked the feel of his warmth radiating against her back. What was wrong with her? After everything she'd just said.

"But you're not a terrible person, Charlie. You're the only one here, including my son, who hasn't hurt or killed people for any other reason besides love. Whatever you did after that day, was to save your brother. Save your friends. Save your family. I'm right."

"Sometimes it was to save myself." Jason…

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but you're worth saving too."

She had no idea why he thought so.

He was close behind her now. He tilted his head, his eyes roaming over the side her face, her hair, the curve of her shoulder. "What was it you said to me the other night?" His voice was low.

She didn't know. She'd said many things to him over the last few nights. Her breath quickened.

"If you're going to do something awful that you can't live with, it might as well be for love?"

Yeah, she remembered that.

"Whatever you gotta do in that place, Charlie, remember-it's because you love your family."

There he went, making her feel better again.

It really pissed her off.

She turned suddenly. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

She waved her hands. "That! Say those things… Try to make me feel better. Why?" Her voice rose high with confusion and anger.

He smiled. Wow, she thought, they were standing way too close. She could feel his breath against her face when he spoke. "You may hate me, Charlie-although, Idon't think so-but I don't hate you. You're Miles' family. That means something to me."

Something crept inside her. Danger. Excitement. Monroe was forbidden. Whatever he thought, she did hate him. Or at the very least, really disliked him. Why did she tolerate his touch when they were training? Why did she like it? Why did she sleep with Connor?

Because she didn't hate him. Not anymore.

"I don't hate you," she whispered, understanding dawning. "I hate myself." How sad.

His face twisted and she wasn't sure what emotion caused it. Then he brought his hand up to touch her cheek softly. She felt the rough callus on the pad of thumb. "Don't. Don't hate yourself, Charlie. Hate me instead. I can take it." He continued stroking her cheek.

She felt like she was a kid again, lost and alone. Her blue eyes could only stare at him, wide and filled with conflicting emotions.

Monroe's hand suddenly stilled on her face. Then it slid around the back of her neck and rested their, fingers lightly moving over the nape. She closed her eyes momentarily, then opened them again. There was only about three inches of space between his mouth and hers.

Charlie closed that distance, angling her mouth over his. She felt like a dam broke inside her, nervous and excited at the same time. This was forbidden. Dangerous.

Exhilarating.

He didn't pull back so she kept going, closing her eyes and parting her lips, kissing him until his hand tightened on her neck and he drew her even closer. The only sound was the pounding in her ears, the blood pumping from her racing heart.

He tasted different than she had imagined in her dream, but still good. Like whiskey and … she didn't know what. She needed more and moved her hands to his shoulders pulling him so that her torso was flush with his.

I can feel his heartbeat, was her distant thought. It was racing.

Knowledge that he was as turned on she was spurred her on. There wasn't much time. Someone could walk up on them at any second. The thought both thrilled and terrified her.

She lowered her hands to his belt buckle and slid the tips of her fingers inside his pants. That broke the control she'd known he'd been trying to keep and he tore away from her kiss.

Drawing a ragged breath, he shook his head. "Don't, Charlie. You'll regret it." He took some deep breaths through his nose in an attempt to bring his body under control.

Charlie didn't want that. She slid her hand down further, bumping against his hard arousal. "Maybe."

"Stop."

"I don't think you want me to stop," she whispered, sort of mimicking what he'd said to her earlier about hate. "You're always following me, always watching me." His eyes closed as if in pain when she twisted her wrist and turned her hand around, brushing against the tip of his cock.

"That doesn't mean…"

They didn't have time for him to sort out his morals, she thought. And the more he stalled the less sure she was that she'd go through with it. And she wanted to. Badly.

She took her hand out of his pants and stepped back, straightening her jacket in the process. "You don't want me? Fine." She shrugged and turned away. "I'll go find someone else."

She'd barely said those last words aloud when he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"I was just trying to be nice," he said in a low voice.

"I don't want nice. Not tonight." She wanted hard and rough and hot.

He looked briefly frustrated and then his eyes flickered down to her mouth. He pulled her close against him and then they were kissing again. His hands were everywhere, sliding over her face and throat, sliding down over her arms to cup her ass. He pulled her tight against his hard length, lightly thrusting between her legs.

She moaned in her throat and opened her mouth for deeper access to his. Her hands fumbled with his shirt, pulling it out of his pants and sliding her hands up his muscled chest.

It was a frenzy of touching and feeling and need. Everything the both of them wanted right now. Monroe unbuttoned her pants quickly and slid his hands inside her jeans and over the curve of her ass.

She gasped into his mouth. "Monroe?" she half-moaned, half-murmured, in between kisses.

"Yeah?"

"Take off your pants. We don't … have … much time." She let her head roll back when he dragged his lips across her jaw and throat, licking and kissing to her collarbone.

She felt him move to obey and when his attention came back to her, she turned around, moving her hair to one side. Taking her pants and boots off was too much work. She wanted him inside her now. He knew exactly what he was doing which was nice.

Without missing a beat, he walked her over to a tree and freed himself from his pants. She leaned back against him briefly, wanting to feel every inch him in her hand. He was content to let her for a few moments. He roughly shoved aside the straps of her tank top and bra and dipped a hand down inside her bra to palm and knead her breast.

The sounds she was making were delicious and he had to stop her. Monroe wanted to be inside her when he came, not in her hand like a teenager. Without gaining her approval first, he placed her hands against the tree and slid her pants down far enough to access to what he really wanted. He quickly made sure she was ready for him and then placed himself at her entrance.

She pushed back at the same time he thrust forward and then he was buried to the hilt in her wet slick heat. A ragged moan tore from his throat and he had to concentrate for a few moments to keep from coming right then. He breathed through his nose and thought of anything he could to keep his orgasm at bay.

But then she whimpered and reached around to pull on his arm. To bring him closer, and all his control was lost. He hunched over and hooked one arm under hers to grip her shoulder and the other went down to stroke the bundle of nerves between her legs.

She covered her mouth with the back of her hand to keep from crying out. Monroe had never seen anything so sexy. Maybe it was because it was Charlie and this was all so forbidden. He couldn't see her face which was what he really wanted but he could see her coming unraveled in his hands and that was next best thing.

"Faster," she gasped and he was more than happy to oblige.

He thrust slowly, but quickened the movements his hand was making between her legs. She inhaled sharply, muffled sounds escaping from between the fingers covering her mouth, spurring him on.

"Come for me, Charlie." His voice was tight with white-hot desire and he wanted nothing more than to pound into her and seek his own release. But he refused to do that before she did. He wanted to be the best. Better than any boy she'd ever had, including Connor. Especially Connor.

He felt her body tense and heard her breath stop completely. He kept his fingers on the right spot until his hand was soaked and she was finished. Her breath came in gasps and her body went limp against the tree.

Then Monroe was free to focus on what he wanted. He fucked Charlie hard and fast, right there up against the tree. Her body shook with every thrust, but he was careful to make sure he wasn't hurting her. Her ass rhythmically smacked against his pelvis and he was shocked the sound hadn't carried all the way to the house.

That thought almost stopped him cold. The thought of Miles popping out of the shadows and seeing him banging his niece from behind up against a tree.

Almost.

He never missed a beat, but he did close his eyes and throw his head back, wantonly riding Charlie to completion. When he finished, he collapsed against her back, gasping for air and was distantly gratified that she didn't shove him off right away.

As his senses slowly came back to him, he slipped out of her and pulled his pants back up, tucking everything in and making sure nothing was out of place. Charlie did the same, silently adjusting her shirt and bra.

It was awkward to the least. Neither knew exactly what to do so Monroe gestured toward the direction of the house. "I'll go first."

She let him go and then went down and sat on the log, heavily. Almost immediately she hissed in discomfort. Between her legs, it was sore. Not that she'd change anything about her encounter with Monroe. It had been exactly what she'd wanted and needed. It had been mind-numbingly hot and even better than she'd expected.

Up against a tree, she thought, a squirmy feeling in her stomach.

She'd been wrong. If she could change one thing, it would be to have more time with him. Raw, wet, hot sex with no constraints or time limits.

Next time. If there was a next time.

God, she hoped there was.

She checked the sky. Dawn would soon break. It was almost time to leave. She stood up and checked herself one more time. How she'd ever be able to look Miles or her mom in the eye this morning was beyond her, but she had to act as natural as possible.

Focus.

Anything less than perfection and she'd get herself or someone else killed.

Then she started back to the house.