Author's Note: Friendly reminder that Lust does not equal Love. A person, especially a man, can absolutely lust after a person and want to have lots of wild, crazy sex with them, but not be in love with them. Will that change later in the story? Possibly. We will see. For now, however, no, Charlie is not in love with Hermione nor is she in love with him. This is casual sex as the story summary and tags on AO3 explicitly state. If you find casual sex morally reprehensible, I can respect that. This story isn't for you. I would like to politely encourage you to read another story because the moral admonishments for the characters doing exactly what the summary states they will do are pretty annoying. I seriously don't care if you don't like it. Read another story.

(I know I promised I would update once a week and missed one. Last week I had the flu and wanted to die and this week I have a sick doggie who is making me very nervous. Fanfiction hasn't been a priority. Maybe I'll make up for it with two updates in an upcoming week.)

Chapter Nine

Charlie

No matter how many times it happened, Charlie didn't think he would ever get tired of kissing Hermione. Strange thought to cross his mind, he knew, but it was the truth. In most circumstances and with most of the women in his past, he didn't care much for kissing. It wasn't that he hated the act. Not at all. It was simply that he never had much of an opinion about it one way or the other. Often he felt it was just an obligatory step on to the next round. With Hermione, he could feel all of the pent-up feelings and passion she worked so diligently to keep pressed down and hidden from the rest of the world slowly begin to bubble to the surface with each second their kiss continued.

It was addicting, something he just couldn't seem to get enough of. He liked feeling as if was somewhat responsible for the shift in her moods and actions. Had anyone else ever been able to convince her to tug up her skirt in the middle of a public place where they could easily be caught? The ego in him somehow doubted it. Likely they were both behaving in ways they wouldn't ordinarily when they were alone. Certainly he could admit that being with her felt very different than being with any other woman from his past.

"You shouldn't have been waiting in the shadows for me. It's creepy, Charlie."

Far from being offended by her admonishment, he only chuckled against the skin of her bare shoulder as he pulled the unzipped dress off. He knew she wasn't being serious. If she really found his behavior to be unsettling and she didn't want him there, she never would've allowed him up the staircase to her home. It wouldn't have taken her much effort to keep him away. One word and he would leave her alone forever, if she desired.

"I wasn't waiting in the shadows. I just happened to be here when you got home. It was all just a coincidence."

"I don't believe a word you say. You were… ahh, yes, right there."

He swirled his tongue over the same patch of sensitive skin just as he was told. A pleased shiver seemed to creep through her entire body. Having a partner who was vocal and clearly receptive to his actions only encouraged him to want to keep going. Who didn't like feeling wanted and desired?

"Yes, good boy. That's very nice."

A single pull of the fabric dropped her dress to the floor at her feet. Wearing only rather skimpy undergarments, Charlie couldn't keep from raising a single curious eyebrow. Was she expecting her date with Kingsley to end very differently than it had? Maybe she was hoping it would be the Minister's hands pulling down the zipper on her back. A choking wave of jealousy splashed over him that he never would have expected. It suddenly became very important to his pride to be certain he was the only man in her thoughts.

She gasped when he picked her up underneath her thighs. Her legs wrapped around his waist as if they had an instinct all on their own. Needing to feel her mouth again, Charlie captured her lips in a fierce kiss. If their lips weren't both swollen before the night was over, he would consider himself a failure. He wanted to see physical evidence that it wasn't all a fevered dream.

Every second of the short journey through her open bedroom door and over to her bed, he didn't stop his kiss. She grew less inhibited by the second. Carefully laying her down on her bed parallel to her headboard, he meant for her legs to hang off the edge of the mattress. His hands sought out the tiny knickers that really didn't do much to shield her modesty. As much as he wished to torture her slightly by taking his time lowering the useless scrap of lace down her shapely legs, he was not known for his patience.

At the same moment the knickers hit the floor, so did his knees. He nestled between her thighs, pulling her legs over his shoulders for even more access. She didn't have any complaints. One swipe of his tongue escalated a madness that plagued them both. She screamed out his name and he longed for nothing more than to hear it shouted over and over again. Nothing else in the entire world seemed to matter so much.

"Right there. Yes, yes. You're such a good boy."

As she muttered out her praises, her hand slid through his thick red hair. Finding a spot his tongue discovered particularly pleasurable, she squeezed a clump of hair on his scalp in a tight fist. It hurt in the best way possible. With her praise still on her tongue, he used his own to make her come completely undone.

It was strange that he found his own pleasure in listening to her compliments and repeated good boys like he was more obedient dog than powerful wizard, but he couldn't help it. Every time she praised him, he wanted to do nothing more than make her do it again. Likely there was something seriously psychologically wrong with him that a trained Mind Healer or Muggle psychiatrist would make a fortune diagnosing.

Her screams continued to echo throughout her quiet flat when Charlie stood back up to his feet to start lowering his own zipper. Did she have silencing spells on her walls to keep her neighbors from hearing what was happening? It didn't matter to him one way or the other. Nothing was going to stop him from what he was going to do next. Not even an angry neighbor pounding on the walls or front door. Only Hermione had the power to stop it.

And she didn't seem in the least bit interested in doing so. Her eyes were still closed as the last tremors in her legs began to subside. Wanting nothing more than to get her screaming again, Charlie dropped his own clothes to the floor in a frantic rush. Once he was just as naked as his partner, he carefully pulled her thighs apart to sink inside her ready body at a glacial pace. He didn't want to rush or waste time. Having nowhere else to go that night, he wanted to make every second count.

Of course that was easier said than done the deeper he pressed and the lower her guttural moans of raw pleasure became. He'd been with other women in his past who would pant and cry and put on a good show for his benefit, but he often felt that most of them were being disingenuous in order not to injure his fragile male ego. Not once did he worry Hermione was doing the same. In fact, he got the distinct impression that she would not hesitate to tell him if she thought his performance was somehow lacking. That made him even more eager to give her a reason to praise him.

It was easy to lose all track of time when he was naked in a bed with Hermione. As enjoyable as it had been to sneak around the Ministry stairwell with charms and silencing spells, he much preferred the freedom of being alone in her flat with no concerns of being interrupted. They could do whatever they wanted for however long they desired or at least possessed the necessary energy to continue.

If he was honest with himself, he knew it was wrong to seek her out that night like he did. Wasn't he the one who pushed Kingsley not to give up and encouraged her to say yes? It made very little sense that he should then keep hanging around in hopes that she would pay him some more attention. She deserved better than the likes of him. Much better.

But if she wasn't on the verge of kicking him out of her bed, he certainly wasn't going to leave on his own. Rare had he experienced that intense level of passion. Neither one of them seemed eager to end the night. For at least a little while longer, they could continue their unorthodox and likely inappropriate arrangement. As of that moment, no one had gotten hurt yet.

He didn't know what time it was when they finally both collapsed on top of her mattress sweaty and panting and far too exhausted to go on. Not a single moment that night was wasted. They wrung out every drop of pleasure and excitement they could. If that was to be the last night they were ever together, a depressing thought that could be very true, at least they made it memorable.

Too tired to move very far, Hermione laid her head down on her pillow to instantly fall asleep. The rule was they didn't sleep over. It was sex and only sex. Charlie understood, but that night, he didn't care. Besides, how could he even hope to walk down the Alley to his own flat when his legs didn't seem to work correctly any longer? And Apparition was out of the question even for such a short distance. Splinching was dangerous and humiliating. He wouldn't dare try until he had a few hours of sleep at minimum.

Wrapping his arms around Hermione's body and pulling her against his chest felt nice. He could get used to feeling her in his arms. Before he could remind himself again that he was breaking one of their most basic rules, he was deep asleep.

Hermione

A repetitive tapping on glass ripped Hermione rudely out of an interesting dream just when it was reaching the good part. Frustrated that she woke up before she knew what was going to happen next, she didn't even try to suppress her annoyed groan. Why did reality always have to find its way to intrude on fantasy? Escaping to her own private dream world was often the highlight of her entire day.

Feeling the heat of bare flesh against her back, Hermione froze, all thoughts of her interrupted dreams pushed out of her head. Reminders of the night before came rushing back. It certainly had been a memorable night. She was so tired she hadn't even moved from the position she fell asleep which was most unlike her sleeping habits. Usually she tossed and turned all night long.

Why was Charlie still there when it was clearly morning? They had rules that they weren't supposed to break. She couldn't believe they slept through the whole night together. That wasn't supposed to happen. She wished she'd had the presence of mind to send him on his way back to his own flat, but she also was aware she hadn't been in the most conscious state when she placed her head on her pillow. Both of them earned their rest.

The sound of the tapping caught her attention again. A post owl stood patiently outside on the windowsill waiting to be noticed. Not for the first time in all the years since she learned she was a witch, she wondered why the magical world hadn't evolved past using the owls to deliver their letters. It was hardly the most efficient method. One of the more common complaints she heard from others was how frustrating it was to be woken up from a deep sleep by one of the messengers. Maybe one day the magical world would move on to a different form of communication that made sense. Until then, she was stuck being annoyed by an owl she didn't recognize.

As she stepped her bare feet onto the cold floor, she realized that wasn't all that was uncovered. She had been so tired when she finally closed her eyes that there had been no thought given to getting dressed again. Not wishing to freeze on the way to the window, especially when she opened it, Hermione picked up Charlie's discarded shirt from the floor. She would've put on anything that was close enough to grab. The fact that it belonged to the wizard still asleep in her bed didn't matter.

Hermione tried to be as quiet as she could while she crossed the floor to the window. As long as Charlie remained unconscious, they wouldn't have to have the necessary, but uncomfortable, conversation about breaking the rules of their arrangement. No matter how exhausted he was, he shouldn't have stayed the entire night. That was just asking for trouble and complications neither of them needed.

The cool morning air sent a chill through her body when she carefully opened the window. She shivered, wishing she was still back in the warmth of her bed. What was so important that someone needed to send her something so early?

A small box was attached to the owl's leg instead of the usual letter. Once she had it removed, she offered the messenger an owl treat she kept close by. It accepted the morsel before flying off the windowsill. Evidently a response wasn't necessary or expected which only intrigued her further.

When she removed the top of the box, a large, elaborate bouquet of flowers popped out, nearly startling her enough to gasp out loud. Tucked inside the blooms was a note from Kingsley apologizing again for having to leave early the night before. He promised he would make it up to her very soon.

Instantly she felt guilty for her own actions the night before after leaving the restaurant, and if she was honest with herself, a little gross. What madness consumed her hours earlier that made her think of inviting another wizard into her flat and ultimately into her bed when she had had such a wonderful date with Kingsley? She regretted every choice she made. What had she been thinking? Letting Charlie anywhere near her was a bad idea. He'd already made it clear what he was and was not willing to offer. It didn't seem to matter. More than once she had proven she couldn't be trusted to behave rationally around the man.

She set the flowers down on top of her chest of drawers. No doubt enchanted to survive even if she didn't put them immediately in water, she didn't want to look at them for another second. They were a reminder of her own bad behavior. If Kingsley knew how she spent the night, he might never even speak to her again let alone take the time to send her flowers.

Turning away from her gift, she was one step back towards her bed when she stopped again. Charlie was awake. Still laying with his head on a pillow he had no right to, he was staring at her with an odd expression on his face she didn't really understand. Suddenly, she felt very vulnerable and on display.

"What?"

He cleared his throat as he sat up. His eyes shifted to the floor.

"You look good in my shirt."

Though it was undoubtedly a compliment, she still felt self-conscious hearing it. When she was pulling it on, she hadn't considered what she was doing. Wearing his clothes felt like a very intimate act. It felt wrong even if the shirt was very comfortable and she couldn't help but notice how amazing it smelled. Without giving it any further thought, she took it off and threw it straight at him. Ignoring the choking sound from him on the bed, she rushed into the bathroom and closed the door.

Alone again, Hermione required a few minutes to compose herself. Tempted to try to wash away all of her worries and concerns under the hot spray of the shower, she stopped herself after one step in its direction. Besides, Charlie might take it as a silent invitation to join her and she was almost certain she wasn't strong enough to tell him 'no'.

When she knew she could no longer hide away another minute, she grabbed her dressing gown off the back of the door. Covered again she felt a little more confident to return to the bedroom. Charlie used the time she was gone to get fully dressed himself. Maybe he would've left on his own if she waited a few more minutes. For a second or two, she was tempted to turn back around and see if she was right.

Charlie stood next to her chest of drawers admiring the flowers she received. Again Hermione felt guilty for the reminder of her poor choices. What had she been thinking? Could she blame it all on the wine she drank at dinner?

"He spared no expense. How much do you think these flowers cost?"

She wanted nothing more than for him to leave. Why was he still there?

"It doesn't matter."

"He must really fancy you."

Every word he uttered only made her feel sicker. Mostly because she knew he was right. Kingsley had serious feelings for her as he had shown her already several times. If he knew what she did after he ran off to the Ministry, he would be rightfully hurt. She never wanted to hurt him. Not only was he a dear man but he had also been a wonderful friend for many years.

With her mind preoccupied, she didn't even realize how close Charlie had gotten to her until he spoke again.

"You feel guilty."

It wasn't a question. He didn't need to ask how she was feeling. Both of them already knew. Likely it was written all over her face which only made her more annoyed.

"Of course I do."

"Do you and Kingsley have an agreement that you two are exclusive?"

She shook her head. Everything with Kingsley still felt so new. There hadn't been a reason yet to have that exact conversation with him. Maybe they would have if he had been able to finish their date properly. In all honesty, Hermione had never really had to have that particular conversation with anyone she had ever dated because despite the lies that were written about her in the paper, she couldn't remember a time when she had more than one person actively pursuing her at the same time.

Not that that was what Charlie was doing. She understood what he was after, what he expected from her, and it wasn't the same as Kingsley.

"Then you've done nothing to feel guilty about."

Could it be as simple as he claimed? It seemed unlikely. In her personal experience, relationships tended to be more complicated. Perhaps that was all her fault and other people were fortunate enough to have it easier. She could think of a few couples she knew that made it look easy from the outside. Was that the truth or just a clever disguise on their part?

Charlie used her inattention to sneak up behind her close enough he was able to kiss her neck. Knowing exactly where to press his lips and swipe his tongue to make her sigh, he didn't stop. Part of her wanted to send him far, far away from her but mostly she didn't want him to go anywhere. It wasn't fair that he had so much power over her like that.

"You have nothing to feel guilty about."

His lips on her sensitive skin distracted her long enough that she didn't realize what his hands were doing until the knot in her dressing gown's belt was undone. Cool air hit her flesh as the fabric opened and slid to the floor. She felt very exposed standing with her back to him naked while he remained fully clothed.

"As far as I'm concerned, until you have some other wizard's ring on your finger, we're not doing anything wrong at all."

The level of the wrongness of their actions could be a debate topic better left for another day when cooler heads were in charge. She disagreed that a ring was required to make it all wrong, but she supposed it didn't really matter in that exact moment. Kingsley had yet to kiss more than her cheek. Three dates was a beginning. Until they were more established and spent more time together in a non-professional setting, they were both free to see other people.

At least that was what she told herself to justify not pushing Charlie away as he led her over to the comfortable armchair near the window where she liked to lose herself in a good book. Carefully, he pushed his chest against her back to move her towards his chosen destination. When they arrived, he used his hands on her hips to gently knock her down into the chair on her knees.

There was no question what he wanted. She held onto the back of the chair to keep from falling into the somewhat awkward position. From the base of her neck Charlie kissed and licked a path down her spine that knocked the last bit of any urge to stop she might have had. Even if her mind told her they should reconsider what they were doing, her body had different ideas. Base desires often won out in the end.

Her heart rate increased at the sound of his zipper lowering and the quiet shuffling of fabric. As if she had no control over them whatsoever, her legs widened in anticipation. He took his time sliding inside her from behind. A little sore from the night before, she closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. The little bit of pain was welcome and sent a shiver up her back. He was slow in the beginning, making sure not to go too fast before she was ready.

Of course it never took either of them long to adjust and want to escalate the encounter. Their chemistry was undeniable. Each time they were together only got better as they both paid close attention to what the other liked and begged for. Slow and steady to start, it didn't take long before she was grasping the back of the chair so tightly her knuckles were turning white. There would be bruises on her hips later if there weren't some already there from the night before.

Charlie knew just how to get her to turn off her thoughts. That was no easy feat to accomplish. Many times in her past she was able to participate in adult activities with her lovers while still keeping her mind busy with other thoughts, usually about work. Not with him. She struggled to even remember why she had initially been so reluctant to be with him again that morning. Certainly nothing seemed more important than what was happening between her thighs.

Far sooner than she might have liked, she found herself tumbling over the edge of her own pleasurable climax. It came almost as a surprise. In the midst of her moaning out her praise for a job well done, he came too. Perhaps morning interludes were always destined to be short though intense affairs. Not that it mattered. They weren't supposed to happen in the first place. No sleeping over had been one of their first and most important rules.

Worn out by his exertions, Charlie all but collapsed on her back to catch his breath. It was a position neither of them would be able to remain in very long. For the moment, however, no one had any complaints, especially as he pressed kisses along her shoulder and neck.

"Do you still feel guilty?"

She could feel his smile against her skin as he asked his question that she was positive he didn't want to know the real answer to. Yes, she still felt very guilty. More so even then just a few minutes earlier. Every minute they were alone together only made matters worse. How could she articulate her true feelings without hurting his feelings or fragile male pride?

A loud knock on the front door of her flat saved her from having to answer. Startled by the sound, Hermione stood to her feet so abruptly she nearly knocked Charlie to the floor. At the last second he was able to catch himself on the arm of the chair.

She couldn't imagine who would drop by her flat unexpectedly on a Saturday morning. Rarely did she have any visitors. All of the worst possibilities flashed through her mind as she rushed to cover herself with her discarded dressing gown. Each step to her door only made her even more nervous.

"Is it the Minister come to make up for last night as he promised?"

Looking through the small peephole on the door, she sighed.

"No, it's your brother."