Chasing Us: A Second Chance Love Triangle (Dark Love Series Book 2)

Our first two weeks as a couple are pure bliss, well, at least that’s what I tell myself. The reality is, we argued over the pettiest of things, but arguing leads to one thing, and the only thing that’s on my mind—hot, off-the-charts animalistic raw sex. The kind of sex which does nothing to diffuse my erection. If anything, it makes me want more and more to the point where I have to remind myself we still have to function as human beings outside the apartment.

It isn’t the first time I lived with a woman, but eight years living in a bachelor pad has me set in my ways. I’m not a slob, quite the opposite, in fact. I’m extremely anal, and it turns out so is Charlotte. The problem is we have different ways of doing things, and we don’t always see eye to eye.

“The toilet paper should face forward, over,” she argues.

“I disagree.”

“Why on earth would it be under?”

“Because it looks tidier this way.”

She looks at me, the argument far from over. Bathroom politics are not hot, although Charlotte standing there in her tank top showing her erect nipples and cute-ass panties is, which leads to me fucking her in front of the mirror, and so that was Monday.

On Tuesday, we decide to eat McDonald’s, much to my horror. I can’t even recall the last time I ate cheap fast food. Charlotte’s cravings are all over the place, and being the great husband that I am, and so she won’t feel so bad, I eat what she eats.

“Did I just see you dip your fry into that chocolate fudge sundae?” Cringing, she waits for my response with a clear look of disgust on her face.

“Yes, Adriana and I used to do it as kids.”

“That is gross! Fries and dairy?”

I dip a nugget in there, and the look of disgust intensifies.

“Lex! Who does that? I bet you that you’re the only one doing that. Prove to me someone else does it?”

“If I do, will you flip the toilet paper my way?”

“I’m that confident that, yes, we can have the toilet paper your way.”

I reach for my phone and google ‘fry in sundae.’ Video after video appears. I hit play, and a very annoyed Charlotte huffs. “Whatever.”

I won the toilet-paper-roll battle, the compulsive neat freak side of me metaphorically sits in its smoking jacket with a pipe and slippers. It also results in me licking chocolate fudge off her erect nipples. I hear no complaints from her, only two screaming orgasms.

Wednesday is our first official real-couple fight. After much persuasion, Charlotte agrees to go apartment hunting with me as we need something bigger. We talk about whether we should move to the suburbs, but both our offices are in the city, so it makes sense from a commute perspective.

Surprisingly, something perfect comes up almost immediately, and I’m ready to put in an offer. The apartment is located on Fifth Avenue, a rare find with sweeping views of Central Park.

With Charlotte’s hand in mine, she walks around the apartment with her mouth wide open. I have to say, it’s impressive, and so is the thirty-five million-dollar price tag.

“Can we afford this?” Charlotte whispers beside me. “I mean, I could sell my place as well as the one in Connecticut, but I don’t think—”

“Charlotte, we’re not selling anything,” I tell her. “And yes, we can afford this.”

“But… I want to contribute. I don’t want to freeload off you.”

I lower my head, shaking it with a small laugh. “Charlotte, that should be the least of your worries. If you love it, it’s ours, okay?”

We continue the tour of the place and stop inside the grand kitchen.

“The kitchen is fully equipped with everything a professional chef will need. I assume, Mr. Edwards, you would have a full-time chef?” Anita, the realtor, asks.

“Yes, as well as a live-in housekeeper and possibly a nanny,” I boldly respond.

“What?” Charlotte asks, her pitch high.

I sense she’s annoyed. Why? I have no idea.

“Charlotte, please, I won’t have it any other way. If you’re worried about the money—”

“I don’t care about the money. What makes you think I’m going to be one of those women who sits around with hired help? I wasn’t raised that way and don’t intend to raise our child with hired help, either. I’m not like that, and I don’t give a shit about your fucking money.”

I asked the realtor to excuse us. Attempting to control my temper, I clench my fists, remembering that this is the woman I love, and she’s carrying my baby. Fuck, women are so unpredictable!

“Was that really necessary in front of the realtor?” My voice is low, trying my best to remain calm.

“Probably not, but right now I don’t care. I understand that you are wealthy, but you don’t control everything we do, do you understand that? I don’t want money to dictate our life. If you want me, then you need to learn to consult with me about things like this. I may like clothes and shoes, but I don’t want to be known as some stuck-up New York housewife. I have worked very hard to get where I am, and I’m proud of what I have achieved. It was never my intention to work hard and have others serve me, it just doesn’t sit right. You want a woman like that, perhaps you need to go back to Victoria Preston.”

Where the fuck did that come from?

Charlotte knows I was never with Victoria. This is so left field.

“Is this your hormones talking?” I ask, confused.

Shit! I went there.

Her face contorts into pure rage until she storms out, slamming the door behind her. I apologize to the realtor who no doubt will run to the press with a ‘Lex Edwards on the Verge of Break Up’ headline. God, what the fuck is that? Why can’t Charlotte see how difficult it is for me to factor someone else in. I’m used to making my own decisions. I can’t be so fucking accommodating all of a sudden.

I walk outside to be met by the icy winter breeze, and that is just from Charlotte’s glare. Sitting in the cab, she remains silent staring out the window, avoiding me. Not wanting to push her, I allow her some time to calm down, choosing my words very carefully.

Inside the apartment, behind closed doors, she throws her keys onto the table and motions for Coco to come to her, still ignoring me.

“Charlotte, I assume that having help will allow you to focus on your career. I know that’s important to you.”

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t know you. This money and wealth have changed you,” she admits. A more rational Charlotte now appearing. Thank God.

“It has, for the better.”

“No, Lex, that’s where you’re wrong.” She places Coco down on the floor, crossing her arms in defiance. “I fell in love with Alex, this unbelievably beautiful and smart man who isn’t hung up on money. A man who is happy to live in a tiny cottage in a small town, who pities those who are so fixated on material possessions. Tell me, am I looking at that same person now?”

“Charlotte…”

“Don’t you get it? Money can be a curse rather than a blessing. I want to be the one who cleans our bed sheets, knowing that I’m making our bed. I want to look at that and smile, reminiscing about all the wild sex we’re having on it. I want to be the one who cooks our meals, places the cutlery on our table knowing that it’s you who sits across from me at the dinner table, chatting about our day, and most importantly, I want to be the one raising our baby. I don’t want to miss a single milestone because it’s assumed the wealthy need a nanny. I want all the normal things, Lex. White-picket-fence type normal. A long time ago, I pictured you and me and our children. We led a simple life, and we were a family.”

“I pictured that, too, a long time ago.”

“Then, you know.” It isn’t a question, rather a fact.

I pull her into me, letting out a sigh. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry, Charlotte. I promise to be less controlling. We’re a family now, but there’s one thing you have to get used to.”

“What’s that?”

“We, and I emphasize we, are wealthy. It’s our money, Charlotte, not just mine, and because of that, we’ll always be in the public eye so outbursts like that need to remain behind closed doors.”

“I’m sorry. I forget you’re famous,” she mocks.

“Not famous, more high-profile, Charlotte, but there are a lot of people who want to see me fail, and that includes my relationship.”

She quietly runs her hands down my chest, past my abs until they linger at the buckle of my belt. Beneath my pants, I begin to stir. This woman will be the death of me.

“You are mine, they can all fuck off. Your cock belongs to me. It fucks me every day, sometimes twice a day, maybe three if I’m lucky. They can wish all they like, but this…” she says, sliding her hands into my pants, “… belongs to me.”

“Well, then, get down on your knees and suck the fucking cum out of it because I swear to God, Charlotte, it will only ever belong to you. And for the record, people in white-picket-fence houses don’t fuck like we do.”

“This makes us dirty, oh so very dirty,” she teases, while sliding down to take me all in, her eyes never leaving mine as her mouth wraps around my cock, and finally, we’re back to pure bliss.

***

After meeting Eric and Nikki and informing them of my intention to marry Charlotte, Adriana has doubled her annoyance level if that’s even possible.

Adriana: Are lilies OK?

Adriana: Do you prefer French script or Calibri for the font on the table cards?

Adriana: Lex, I really think you should invite our cousins from Australia.

This is only the tip of the iceberg.

At that point, I had my mother intervene, and then when that failed, I called in the big guns—Nikki. According to my secret spy, Eric, Nikki’s in charge of the bachelorette party. Payback is on her agenda. However, I’m always one step ahead of her. Despite her evil ways, she manages to control Adriana, and thankfully the messages stop.

The hardest part is trying to keep this all under wraps from Charlotte. I told her I needed to fly out to California for work, a partial lie which ends up being postponed because work takes priority. The purpose is to see Mark Mason and ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage. He doesn’t need to know we are already married. I do value my life, especially now that Charlotte is in it.

Who would have thought Lex Edwards—the traditionalist.

But so the guilt doesn’t eat away at me, I decide to finally have a meeting with one of the top production companies in LA looking for an investor.

We are sitting on the couch watching mindless television when I sense something is off with Charlotte. “Is something wrong?” I ask, placing my laptop aside.

“I’m fine.”

Fuck, typical woman response which means something.

“Okay, then… we can waste time by me dragging it out of you, or we can talk about it and then get naked all night.”

She lets out a small laugh, the smile enough for me to know that it isn’t something major.

“I’ll miss you,” she simply says.

So that’s it—separation anxiety. I don’t blame her. We have only been officially together for two weeks, and I’m already heading interstate.

“I wish I didn’t have to go…”

If only she knew the reason why.

“No, I get it… I really do. It’s just… I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” I part my lips and lean in, her mouth soft and warm, inviting me, but the desperation as always lingers. What starts as a slow burn turns into a frenzy, and now I feel the same anxiety, knowing I won’t see her, knowing I won’t touch her for two whole days.

There hasn’t been one day since the night in the hotel where we haven’t fucked, and it isn’t once a day, either. It’s the moment we wake, the moment we climb into bed, and if work schedules permit, a few times in between. Charlotte is insatiable, and I take advantage of whatever the hell it is, pregnancy hormones or not, I’m getting laid by the woman I love.

“Right, dinner time,” Charlotte chimes.

“Um, hello? Are you forgetting something?” I ask, grabbing her hand and placing it on my cock.

“I’m sorry, sugar cakes, but it’s not me who’s hungry.”

“Fine, go make dinner. I need to make a phone call, anyway.”

She makes her way to the kitchen, singing some annoying jingle from a commercial, my perfect opportunity to make sure I have everything covered for the weekend. I pull out my cell and dial his number.

“Dude, I was waiting,” Rocky complains.

“You got better things to do while you’re in the doghouse?”

“No, and how do you know I’m in the doghouse?”

“Women talk, Rocky, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Yeah, well, what the hell was I supposed to do?” he asks with a raised tone.

“How about not have lunch with your ex?”

“We didn’t have lunch… and she’s not my ex. I slept with her one time like a billion years ago, way before Nikki. I ran into her downtown, and she asked me to join her for a coffee. She drank coffee, and I had green tea. End of story.”

“You ordered green tea? Maybe that’s why you’re in the doghouse for being such a pussy.”

“Fuck you, Edwards, hurry up and get pretty boy on the phone.”

“Hang on a sec.” I hit conference and dial Eric’s number, and he answers almost immediately.

“Okay, here’s Eric,” I announce.

“OMG, guys! Are we having a three-way? This is so hot, it’s like one of my wildest wet dreams,” Eric squeals.

“Dude, keep your tiny Tim to yourself,” Rocky states. “I reiterate, I’m all about the pussy.”

“Rocky, that is so racist, just because I’m half Asian doesn’t mean I have a tiny Tim. In fact, I have a medium Tim, apparently not as big as some.” Eric coughs as he says it.

“Can we end this disturbing penis talk? Listen, I need you both to watch Charlotte on the weekend while I’m gone.”

“Why? You think she’s gonna run off with that Baker dude?” Rocky chuckles.

“Oh, snap!” Eric snickers.

“No, I don’t think that, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving her alone.”

As if I would think that!

“Damn, this was not the three-way I envisioned. Okay, well, I’ll take the night shift—”

“Eric, no taking her to any clubs, you understand?”

“Dude, talk about possessive. We got your back, Edwards. Now let’s go before tiny Tim starts charging us by the minute.”

“Rocky, as if I would ever charge for phone sex. Mind you…”

I hang up the phone, the two of them can enjoy their random conversation. I have better things to do. I need to devour every inch of Charlotte before my flight takes off tomorrow.

***

I remember the first presentation I did in front of a whole auditorium of business associates, investors, and political parties—I was a nervous wreck. But within the first minute, I found my footing and never looked back.

I sit on the sofa belonging to Mark Mason, cautiously watching him in case he pulls out an assault rifle from behind the recliner he’s sitting on. While being back here brings back memories, he makes me feel unwelcome. His resistance to my request to meet with him only confirms one thing—I have a hell of a lot of persuading to do.

“I hope you didn’t come into my home to tell me the reason why you are here is because you want to marry my daughter,” he threatens.

Fuck!

“With all due respect, sir, I did come to ask for that, but not before you hear me out.”

“What could you possibly have to say that will make me believe you can take care of my daughter? Did you invent some sort of time machine so you can erase all the pain you caused her?” He pauses, allowing me to speak, but for some reason, I hesitate. “I didn’t think so.”

Here it goes. C’mon, Edwards. One man, you can’t wimp out.

“I love Charlotte. I always have since the moment I came back that summer, maybe even before. I was a kid, and I made the wrong decisions and hurt everyone around me, but mainly the one who mattered the most. I can’t erase that, and to forgive myself took years of destructive behavior, but in the end, it was Charlotte’s forgiveness I needed the most. I don’t know who is looking down on me, but I thank my lucky stars that somehow, something brought us back to one another. She is my life, and I want to give her everything she desires. Perhaps I’m not asking you for your permission as such, because let’s face it, Charlotte will do what she wants to do, anyway…” I pause thinking about what to say next. “What I’m here for is to reassure you that Charlotte will be taken care of. Aside from financially, I’d move heaven and earth for her. I will do everything in my power to give her the life she deserves. All I ask in return is that you support us on this journey because, without your support, Charlotte won’t feel whole, and I can’t let that happen. I cannot watch her experience hurt and pain, not if I can help it.”

He grazes his beard with his hand. Just like my dad, he has a poker face. What the hell is he thinking?

“I know you won’t hurt her again, for anyone who has ever met Charlie knows Charlie is to love her. No one would purposely cause that girl pain.”

“Wait,” I’m shocked at his answer. “Does this mean…”

“I’m not stupid, Edwards. I do know what it’s like to love someone. I get it, you love my daughter, and you want to marry her. You think Charlie would allow me to disapprove of this relationship? Please, she and Debbie alone would gang up on me with all their I-am-woman-hear-me-roar mumbo jumbo. And to top that off, my ex-wife would be on the next plane over probably stabbing a voodoo doll with pins chanting destroy Mark.”

I laugh unexpectedly. What else can I do in a situation like this? He understands. He wants the best for his daughter, and I am the best for his daughter.

I ramble on about my intentions, the exact plan. Yes, finally, I have a plan, and it’s perfect.

“That’s a lot of stuff going on for one day. How the hell do you expect to pull it off?”

“I have our friends working on it. All I need from you is to pretend this conversation never happened.”

I said our friends. Is this what it’s like to be normal?

Shit Lex, you fucking soft cock, I think to myself.

“Deal, but you’re sleeping in separate rooms while you are under my roof.”

“If Charlotte agrees.”

She will never agree. She is a walking horn-dog, but, hey, who am I to complain?

He stands up and walks over to his desk, pulling out a drawer. He reaches in to retrieve something. It’s his checkbook. “Tell me how much the wedding is, and I’ll pay.”

“Sir…”

“Cut the ‘sir’ crap, Edwards. I’m still getting laid three times a week with my girlfriend. I ain’t that old.”

Right. Awkward.

“Okay, Mark… listen, you don’t need to pay a cent. It’s all taken care of.”

“It’s tradition, the father of the bride pays.”

“I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but I can pay for the wedding with an hour’s worth of work. I don’t want to offend you, but it’s peanuts to my bank account.”

He looks hurt, which I fail to understand since it means he doesn’t have to take out a second mortgage on his home. “If you want to help, there’s plenty to do like explaining the whole thing to your ex-wife and making sure she gets here in time.”

“Fuck, that’s a lot to ask. Maria and Debbie in the same house? God, what if they start comparing my technique and shit?” he complains.

We both laugh at the same time before he holds out his hand, and I shake it.

I leave Mark’s house, pleased I have him on board ‘Project Marry Charlotte Mason.’ There is one more person I have to see before I leave Carmel—Finn Rodriguez.

I knock on the door, taking a deep breath as I know this will be a battle. An attractive lady answers who I remember from prom.

“May I help you?” She looks at me intensely, certain she recognizes me.

“I was after Finn.”

“Alex? I mean Lex? I mean… sorry, I can’t remember what Charlie…”

I smile, she relaxes almost instantly. “I prefer Lex. Sorry, I didn’t mean just to show up unannounced.”

“Sorry! Excuse my scatterbrain, please come inside. I’m Jen, by the way.” She holds the door open.

“We met at prom. Are you sure? It might be best that I wait outside.”

“Oh, Finn won’t be home for another half an hour. Please come in, but I’m warning you, the kids won’t leave you alone.”

I follow and take a seat in her living room while Jen offers me an array of beverages. Minutes later, a little girl walks in. She’s maybe five.

“This is my daughter, Mikayla. Mikayla, this is Charlie’s boyfriend.”

Boyfriend—the word sounds juvenile. Even more reason to announce to the whole world she is my wife.

“You’re pretty,” Mikayla says as she stands in front of me.

“Why, thank you. So are you, Mikayla.”

“My daddy says that Mommy isn’t allowed to talk to pretty men because they might steal her.”

“Mikayla! Excuse her, please, it’s a ‘Mommy and Daddy’ joke. Oh, and sorry about calling you her boyfriend. I’m not sure what word to use.”

“Hopefully not for much longer,” I reveal.

“Are you serious? Wow! I spoke to Charlie a few days ago. She’s so happy, Lex. I’m glad you two found your way back together again.”

“How much has she told you?”

“Just that you were living together, but tell me, Lex, do you have a death wish by wanting to speak to Finn?”

As soon as she says the words, the screen door slams, and Finn yells out to his family. He enters the room, his eyes suddenly turning to me, the rage clearly visible. His tall stature overshadows a short Jen, and his clothing looks bulky. I guessed by them he’s a firefighter. I’m not one to be disrespectful to those who help our community but…

“Jen, what’s he doing here?” he asks in a bitter tone, almost spitting out his words.

She stands before him, placing her hands on his chest to calm him down. I guess now would be the best time to give him the reason. I’m not afraid of this jerk, never was. In fact, I despise him for obvious reasons.

“Finn, I wanted to speak to you.”

“I got nothing to say to you, Edwards. Charlie may have forgiven you, but I don’t forget so easily,” he shoots back.

“I’m not here to cause trouble, especially in front of your family.”

He asks Jen to take the kids to the backyard.

“You have some nerve showing up here. You think people won’t start talking shit again?”

“Finn, I don’t care what people think. I’m here because, for some reason, you mean something to Charlotte.”

“Damn right, I do! She’s my fucking best friend. What are you gonna do? Buy me off?”

Why didn’t I think of that idea? Except, now I’m that Lex and apparently, I am compassionate according to Charlotte.

“Yes, because that would make Charlotte happy.” My words are laced with sarcasm.

“Then tell me why you want to show your face in this town again?”

“I’m asking Charlotte to marry me… properly.”

Without warning, he throws a punch at me hitting me right in the jaw. Fuck! I’d been hit in the ring, but I’d expected those punches. I touched my jaw, the pain spiraling throughout me. I lift my hand to my chin, the slight tang of blood lingers. Fucking dickhead.

“Finn!” Jen enters the room, pushing him to the side, scolding him for punching me.

“I’m sorry. Lex… let me get you an ice pack.” She returns moments later, and I place the cool pack on my face.

It helps. God, I’m so ready to hit him back.

Why did I fucking let my guard down?

“What makes you think Charlie will say yes?” Finn’s nostrils flare, the adrenaline spiking as he tries to push Jen aside.

This time I’m ready.

“You’re her best friend, I’m sure you can answer that,” I shoot back.

Jen motions for me to sit, and I do on the large couch and begin to speak. I explain to them my intentions and the fact that I need their help to pull this off. Jen rushes to my side, hugging me, and I sit there feeling somewhat uncomfortable. Not knowing what to do, I hug her, this stranger I barely know.

“You broke her, you know… she was a damn mess,” Finn speaks quietly.

“I know,” I simply answer, always so acutely aware of my actions.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment you left town.”

“I know, I deserved it.” It’s the truth, even I have to admit that.

I look at my watch. My driver will be here in a minute. I hand the ice pack back to Jen, and she squeezes my hand and gives me a sincere smile.

“Listen, I need to go. It would mean a lot if you could do this for me, and in return, how about I forget the fact that you broke Charlotte as well… sexually. Truce?”

“I’d hardly call that a break… more like a slight tear.” Jen laughs.

“Fine.” I hold out my hand, and he reluctantly shakes it.

“For the record, guys, that fight was totally hot.”

“Edwards, leave my home now. You…” he motions to Jen, “… put those kids to bed. I’ll show you what’s hot.”

I close the door behind me, ready to take my bruised face back home.

***

It’s just before midnight when I arrive home on Sunday. I enter the bedroom, and although Charlotte said she would wait up for me, she’s fast asleep.

I’m eager to be inside her, but instead, I stand and watch her—her tiny snores barely audible, her eyes shut tight, her face nestled into her pillow. Her complexion is glowing, and I can’t help but bask in her beauty knowing that our child will mirror her beauty, it’s impossible not to. I pull my phone out of my pocket for like the hundredth time today and stare at my home screen. Our baby. It’s one of those moments where I take a minute to appreciate everything good in my life, and all of it is lying in our bed, fast asleep.

It overwhelms me, and my desire to have her kicks in. I strip at a fast pace and climb into bed. She makes a whimper, and as much as I know she needs her sleep, selfish, horny Lex needs her more. I nestle into her back, and without warning, I slide my cock inside of her, maybe a little too fast, but after a few strokes, I feel the moisture build up, and her moaning increases.

“Lex…” she murmurs, reaching behind to pull my head into her neck.

“It’s me, baby, I missed you,” I say while slamming into her harder on the verge of an orgasmic finish.

She cries out, her body tensing.

I don’t want it to end—I never want it to end.

“Come with me, Charlotte. Please… together…”

And just like that, I pull her into me tight and tug on her erect nipples causing her to scream my name, her walls contracting around my cock. I hold onto her hip trying not to hurt her.

“Fuck,” I growl loudly, enough the neighbors and possibly the whole apartment block can hear.

With our breaths shallow, she turns around to face me.

“It’s late. I missed you, too.”

I stroke her cheek and kiss her, unable to hide a smile as my mind wanders.

“What’s the smile for?” she asks, smiling in return.

“Just happy to be home.”

For the first time in my life, I find it—not a place but a person to call home.