𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑾𝑬𝑵𝑻𝒀-𝑭𝑰𝑽𝑬: 𝑩𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑶 𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑬𝑵

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𝑨 𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅, James left the coffee shop and faced the bitter cold of the January weather of New York City until he reached the heated car that was doubl...

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𝑨 𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅, James left the coffee shop and faced the bitter cold of the January weather of New York City until he reached the heated car that was double-parked and joined Charlie inside.

Handing her her hot drink, he watched her bringing the cup to her lips, her eyes closing as she took a sip and hummed as she swallowed, the little noise she made similar to the ones she did when he sucked her nipples.

Fuck, her tits.

The way she moved beneath his touch, the way her breasts fitted perfectly in his palms, the way her pussy adjusted heavenly to his length, as if she'd been tailor-made specially for him, and only him.

"Honestly, I don't know how I survived without that beautiful invention for so long back in Lapland," she stated.

James forgot his own coffee in his hand, hypnotized by the brunette with jade-green eyes and a scary and concerning cinnamon latte addiction next to him.

She removed the lid and took another sip of her drink, but this time some foam remained on her upper lip, like a light brown, bubbly moustache.

"What?" Charlie asked as she felt his heavy stare on her.

He blinked, suddenly aware of his hard cock tenting his pants and shifted on his seat, fighting against himself not to lean on her and lick the cinnamon foam with his own tongue and make infidelities to his black coffee.

Actually, he wasn't really in the mood for his bitter drink anymore. Rather for something as sweet as her to beautifully start the day.

The deal they made when they succumbed to each other's temptation stroke, as well as the last time he had tasted her and buried himself inside her a couple of days ago - seven, actually. He had counted them.

The lips she let him kiss just two nights ago when he helped her get to bed at Nat's place was an exception. She had been drunk, and the distant Charlie was back first thing in the morning.

As if nothing had happened.

Maybe it was for the best.

But James didn't see it that way.

So New Year's Eve aside, it'd been seven days since she kept her smiles and laughs away from him, too.

Seven days of abstinence wasn't a lot, one would say. But it seemed like eternity when the girl he wanted to bang was swaying her hips right under his nose almost 24/7.

He was fucked, completely obsessed with her and he knew it.

"Y-you got..." James gestured to his own face, waving a hand toward his mouth.

"I got what?" She raised her brows, waiting for him to go on.

"You got some cream on your upper lip -"

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