Charlie had been following Monroe for at least half-an-hour, now. She had made sure to have enough people between them. Miles would be mad. He had told her to leave Monroe alone and let him ‘rot in his own shit’ but she couldn’t give up. The same drive that had gotten her to New Vegas was pushing her. He had betrayed them once more. He had chosen his son and the New Monroe Republic and turned his back on all his promises. Miles and the others wanted to defeat him on the field of battle. But Charlie had a different plan.
She knew that her uncle would never kill Monroe. Never. They were brothers. But her, on the other hand, had no ties that would make her hand falter.
Monroe’s pace had quickened, she pushed through the crowd as he turned into a quiet alley. It was a dead end. He was probably heading for the building at its end. Her hand tightened around the gun she was hiding beneath her jacket. He stopped. Before she could even pull out her firearm he had turned around.
“Charlotte. It’s been a while.“ He was smiling. She cringed. He raised his hands. “What are you waiting for?“ Charlie aimed at him but he laughed, “you’re not going to do it.“
“Don’t…“ But before she could even finish her sentence, Monroe’s left hand was around her wrist, her gun on the ground and his right hand on her throat. She gulped.
“No. You listen.“ But he didn’t add anything. His gaze wandered to her lips. His fingers were tracing the letter banded on her wrist. Charlie closed her eyes to escape his penetrating gaze. It was a bad idea. Her mind was flooded with images of the last time they had been in each other’s personal space. She had made the first move and Monroe had complied. They never spoke about it, that is, until it happened again. But here she was, at his mercy. She bit her lip but refused to open her eyes. Charlie cursed herself for being such a fool. Her eyes opened as his lips crashed on hers. He pulled her closer, his hands roaming over her arms and waist. She sunk into his embrace until her hand made contact with the collar of his uniform and she remembered why she was here. Placing her hands against his chest, she pushed him away.
“Are you kidding me? I’m here to kill you!“
“Come on Charlotte. Let’s stop pretending. You’re family isn’t around.“ She snorted but his face remained grime. She was eyeing him suspiciously when he grabbed her arm, pulled her along and started to walk.
“Let’s go.“ His grip was unshakable. And Charlie knew that no amount of yelling would help her. This was his town and she had no backup. That was stupid. She could imagine Miles face when he would find out that Monroe offed her in a back alley. But he kept on walking until they reached the entrance of an old building. It hadn’t been renovated like the rest. The floorboard creaked as they walked in. Charlie barely had the time to take in the dusty décor of a former hotel before Monroe lips found hers again. She wriggled but a familiar heat was spreading in her body. Her hand found his curls and she kissed him back. He smirked as they parted. Breathing heavily, they looked at each other. Charlie shook her head to gather her wits.
“I can’t go down this road again. You betrayed us!“ It was difficult to keep her tone sharp. The feel of his hard chest against hers was making her legs shake. The smell of his skin was intoxicating, evoking memories of furtive kisses and sweaty trysts.
“I was never part of your ‘Heal the World’ campaign. I was in for the revenge. You all knew that.“ Charlie sighed. Sebastian Monroe at his finest. Her annoyance at him cleared her mind as she considered her options. He hadn’t found the knife hidden in her boot.
“Whatever.“ She leaned forward and brushed her lips to his. She pushed him away and crossed the lobby.
“You promised me a proper bed last time. It’s a hotel, right?“ She offered him a devilish smile as she raced up to the stairs. She found a room and closed the door. She had enough time to fish out her knife and keep it within reach before he tore into the room. His eyes were ablaze and his voice raw.
“Too many clothes.“ Her jacket was on the floor and he was pulling at her tank top.
“Wait.“ She took a step back and took off her top. Suddenly, she felt embarrassed. Her bra was old and darned far too many times to look seductive. Too many battles had given her her share of scars and bruises. Almost shyly, she raised her gaze and caught his hungry gaze.
“Your turn.“ He laughed and unbuttoned his shirt. She was burning to rip it off herself but she rarely had the chance to gaze at his naked body in daytime. And, it wasn’t like they were going to spend the rest of their lives entwined in a hotel bed. It was a one time show. She had to remember to breathe. Each and every scar carved in his body, his toned chest, and shapely arms spoke of the hard road only survivors know off. Her gaze stopped at the charred skin where his family name used to be inked. She hadn’t actually seen it until Monroe had burned it off. This scar spoke of loneliness. She swallowed the feelings rising in her. She didn’t want to care about the man. Hadn’t she come to kill him? Killing, fucking, these things made much more sense than feelings and attachment. She reached for him, her nails grazing his arms His hands cupped her face as he stared into her eyes. Her resolve was melting. What would killing Monroe change? She would have to target Connor next to really make a dent on the New Monroe Republic. Monroe’s hands slid on her skin but he kept his eyes in hers. They halted at her waist.
“You really thought I wouldn’t notice?“ Deftly, he dug out her knife from her the back of her jeans’ waistband. “You’re becoming rusty Charlotte.“ She glowered at him.
“Sure. I’m not the one about to turn half a century. Old man.“ He snickered at her words but he wasn’t in the mood for word fencing. He pulled her closer for a kiss. Her dismay at having lost her weapon had vanished in a flurry of desire and feelings. She tried to push him towards the bed, but instead, he kissed her more fiercely this time. She stumbled back to the wall. He pressed his body against him. His chest wasn’t the only thing that was hard. He ripped off her bra, cupped her breast and lowered his face. She could feel his hot breath on her skin but she wasn’t prepared when his tongue trailed trailed on her left breast, his teeth worried her nipple.
“Fuck.“ He paused to take in her shuddering breath and already glazed eyes.
“Still thinking about killing me?“
“Stop talking.“ She whimpered. His hands were working on her jeans and soon, they pooled on her feet. He chuckled when he noticed she wasn’t wearing any underwear.
“My thoughts exactly.“ His hand found her crotch. “You really don’t make a good assassin Charlotte.“ The way in which he purred her name, and, how his fingers were barely stroking her clitoris and trailing to her entrance made her squirm.
“Stop. Talking.“ His lips found her throat, her moan making him smile against her dewy skin. She was grinding against his hand but he withdrew it and raised his head to look into her stormy eyes. There was nothing more arousing than tough Charlotte Matheson’s eyes when she was craving him. She had been on the edge of a very satisfying orgasm but she knew better than to complain. What had made her trysts with Monroe so memorable was his ability to overcome her belligerence. Sure, it was fun to play with boys and ride them like a queen. But to find a man that was her actual match? One that could make her lose complete control over herself? That was beyond her imagination. The ghost of smile graced his face. Taking her hand, he pulled her to the bed. She toppled over him, eagerly kissing his lips. None of them cared that the sheets hadn’t probably been changed since the Blackout. When she bit his lower lip, he growled in her mouth and tumbled over her. His weight made her shift her legs further apart, inviting him in. When he entered her, she closed her eyes.
“Open your eyes Charlotte.“ He didn’t want her to think about anyone else but him. He didn’t want her to think about his son, Jason or her string of nameless lovers. As if on cue, her eyes shot open and she moaned.
“Bass.“ And that was enough to chase away any coherent thoughts his mind harbored. All that existed were Charlotte’s whimpers at each of his thrust and her nails digging into his back.
When Charlie regained her senses, Monroe had rolled to his side. He was looking at her thoughtfully. Of course, he couldn’t trust her. He would find her a nice homely cell or keep her on house arrest. But there was no way he was going to let her go. He was proud of Connor, most days. But in others, the loneliest and most bitterest of days, he missed the companionship of an adult. And she may have been younger than his son, but Charlotte could be the crankiest of old men and the most delicious of women that had graced his bed. He stroked her hair away from her face.
But the warrior within Charlie was awake now that she was stated. She had to admit to herself that she wouldn’t be able to kill Monroe. It was probably time to make a graceful exist and avoid getting shot at. Miles would call her fifty shades of stupid, whatever that meant. She licked her lips as she studied the lines and flesh that made Monroe such a scrumptious man. Nope, there was no need to tell Miles about her failed attempt at killing Monroe. He found it already hard to get over the fact that his niece was a sexual being. She stretched her arms above her head.
“That was fun but I have to be off.“ He raised an eyebrow.
“How so? Not staying for dessert?“ She scuttled to gather her clothes. Still sprawled on his side, he watched her every move.
“Nope. I’m full.“ Fully dressed, she contemplated him. It would be rude to dart out, wouldn’t it be? She smiled. He jumped out of the bed and dressed up.
“I think you should stop for the night. Say hello to my son or something.“ She rolled her eyes. Only Monroe wouldn’t find it awkward to mention Connor after their escapade. Probably trying to show that his ego hadn’t been bruised when she chose his son before him. He took hold of her arm as they made their way out of the hotel. As soon as they were in the alley, she shrugged his hand away. She smiled again. His face fell as he took in her bright face under the sunlight. Who could ever call her grumpy? Keeping her distance, Charlie placed a butterfly kiss on his nose. Without even realizing it, he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, she was gone. He shook his head with annoyance. But as he made his way back to the main street, he was finding it hard to keep a smile from spilling on his face. She would come back for more. She always did.