Page 14 of Mine
I tighten my hand more, but Charlotte still won’t look at me. The tighter I go, the more she squeezes her eyes closed.
Her body shakes, but her pebbled nipples tell me she’s just as aroused as I am, as do her tightly pressed thighs and flared nostrils. But I choose to focus on the former.
Releasing her neck, I trail my forefinger over her pulse point until I reach the end of her chin. Tilting it back, I tap the little dip in her chin with my thumb until her eyes finally open.
Bright and light. The color has paled, somehow becoming lighter with her arousal.
Charlotte tilts to her left slightly and gives Michael a little smile and a small wave. My rage builds. I have never, ever felt violence toward my brother before this girl. I could not have imagined it, but right now, I want to stab him in the neck with my truck keys.
I don’t get to dwell on my dark thoughts for long because when Charlotte looks back at me, she gives me the brightest smile anyone has ever sent my way.
My heart expands in my chest. Is it possible to love someone with one look?
I twirl my finger in front of her face, only for her to do the cutest fucking spin that ends with her still facing me.
I make a sound that I don’t think I’ve ever made before. I laugh. It’s deep and rough, but it’s definitely a laugh.
This woman.
I feel my brother’s hand on the back of my neck. The squeeze a silent acknowledgment of what just happened.
My heart fills my chest even more. It feels as though it wants to reach out and absorb her into my body.
To make us one.
So that’s exactly what I do.
Reaching out with both hands, I firmly grip her shoulders and turn her. A thought occurs to me to be gentle, but that wouldn’t be me. And I need someone to see the real me for the first time in my life.
My large hands grip her underarms, and without warning, I lift her clean off the ground and right into my lap.
Just as I settle her onto my thighs, she tries to slide farther back and off onto the bench seat.
I am having none of it.
My arm is a wall of muscle as it hooks around her waist, my hand spanning her stomach to slide her ass back onto my thigh.
At first, she struggles, but when my pinkie finger slips under the waistband of her jeans, brushing her lace panties, Charlotte quickly uses my knee and shoulder to situate herself more comfortably on my right leg.
The need to make sure she doesn’t sit comfortably for days nags at me, but I push it aside. No doubt my girl will earn herself another spanking very soon.
I settle my right hand on her hip and tap the underside of her shoes as a sign to lift them.
Her brow scrunches. “Please, can I just sit on the seat?”
“No.”
“Daniel” — she sighs — “I’m not going to fit. I’m too big!”
“Hardly. You can barely be five feet and a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet,” Michael corrects her for me.
“Five feet two, actually,” she mutters, her legs still hanging out of my truck.
“You’re very petite.” I can hear the grin in his tone and know he’s about to deliver a blow. “Small enough that you should be praying your kids take after you and not my brother. Imagine pushing that out.”
Michael’s words do the trick, and when I next tap the bottom of her shoes, she lifts them automatically, not thinking, too caught out by his words.
Grabbing her ankle, I push up to bend her knee more, her body tilting slightly as I move her foot to rest on my left thigh. To steady her, my right hand releases its hold on her body and grips the steering wheel, giving her my arm to lean back on.