To Be Obscure

| CH. 13

1838

I missed her.

I hadn't seen her, in any way, for over a month. The town council spent every day, arguing back and forth, on whether or not to remove the natives. Charles and I argued the recklessness of removing families from their homes. "They're people!" Charles slammed his hand on the podium, "I'll be damned if you think you can remove my wife!"

Someone thought it'd be funny to point out that his daughter was also one of them, and needed to be removed, as well. He took the comment back when I lifted him in the air by his collar and told him I'd kill him; I'd rip him limb from limb, tear his intestines out and hang them to dry by the church. I was a demon after all, and I made sure he knew it.

No one heard the threat or saw the utter fear on his face. I was ordered to let him go and leave the courthouse for the day. Thankfully for him and everyone around me, I obliged, but gave the man one good glance to ensure him I'd do good on my word.

I'd spent the rest of the hours wandering the town, downing a few drinks at the pub. I never sought out Charles to ask about the final decision made in that courthouse—a forgotten thought. Instead, my mind running on drunken fumes and tobacco, led me outside Charlotte's bedroom window.

I wasn't sure of the hour, but by this point, the moon was high and bright in the sky as my only form of light. I called for her quietly and tossed a pebble at the glass. When she saw me, she wasted no time running down and out the door, into my arms.

I pulled her into the trees a few yards from her mother's garden.

"I missed you," she sighed as we kissed. Her hands gripped the front of my shirt, holding herself steady. I let my hands explore what I never could. A month apart from the woman you love could do a lot to a man.

"Have you?" I smirked as I pulled her waist close to mine. She trembled at my touch, eyes half-lidded and glazed. She wore nothing but her sleeping gown, white and thin. I could feel her breasts through the fabric as they pressed up against me. With restrained a groan of delight, I mentally told the length within my pants to calm down.

She was the love of my life, and I'd die if I killed her.

"Terribly." Charlotte pressed herself up on her toes to breathe on my lips. Her finger traced the faint stubble on my chin. "In the morning, at night."

I hissed. Why did she do this to me? Her eyes, the way they looked at me; her lips, the way they parted, beckoning me to kiss her. And her hands—oh, did her touch drive me mad.

I pulled her fingers away from my chin and kissed the tips of them. "Only the mornings and nights? You don't think of me throughout the day?" I chuckled quietly against her hand.

She turned red as a cool wind broke through the space around her. "I'm sure you know what I mean."

My, my, my Charlotte May.

The next groan I couldn't hold back. I cupped her ass in my hand and hoisted her up, legs around me. With a quick turn, I pressed her back against the tree. The mixed nervousness and desire on her face made me tremble as I breathed against her lips. There was no hiding the heat that dropped down in between my legs, and she knew.

"Lamont." Her hands found the length of my hair, undoing the tie that held it in its ponytail. Dark strands covered my face as the wind blew again, but she brushed them away with her fingertips. Her red lips inched closer to mine. Hot breaths left her in gasps. I hissed, I growled, and I took her lips in the hungriest of kisses.

As her soft moans clouded my thoughts, I tried to remind myself of what I couldn't do. I couldn't touch her beyond her clothes. I couldn't taste more than her lips. Yet, I couldn't fight myself the way I could fight a man. I was weaponless, hindered, and weakened by her touch.