My Father's Best Friend(23)

Over our meal, we kept the conversation light. She told me about her  finals and shared a few funny student stories. I watched every bite she  brought to her mouth. By the time we were done, my cock was hard and my  balls were aching, practically about to come in my pants.

Unfortunately, we still had to have our discussion, so I cleared the  table, using the time to talk my cock off the orgasmic ledge. Once our  wine glasses were refilled, I led her over to the couch. I settled next  to her, but far enough away that I could face her, and avoid torturing  myself any further by being so close to her.

"So?" I asked with a raise of my brow. "How was your thinking time?"

Charlotte laughed softly and the sound soothed away some of my turbulent emotions.

"I don't know, Gabe. I want to be with you. I've wanted that for so  long," she confessed. "But, I've wanted to go on in school, to get my  doctorate since I was a kid. My parents were both teachers and I've  always wanted to be like them. To teach at a higher level. To mold  minds, and guide the people who will be the future."

She'd given me the perfect opportunity without realizing it. I stomped  down a little spark of guilt for what I was about to do, knowing it  would mean giving up that dream. My hope was that it would inspire a new  one.

"Sweetheart, teaching at a school isn't the only way to accomplish your  dream." I ran a finger down the side of her face, smiling softly. "What  about molding the minds of our kids? Guiding them and helping to carve  out a path for their future."

At the mention of kids, her eyes got wide. Don't you mean at the mention  of our kids? That guilty little voice pissed me off and I stomped it  down again, this time grinding it with my heel.

"You'll have an even greater influence over your own children, and an  unimaginable sense of pride that you won't get from students coming and  going through your classroom."

"I suppose that's true," she admitted a little begrudgingly, "but maybe I want both." There was uncertainty lurking in her tone.

Then her eyes lit up for a second. "Why don't we both go to California? I'm sure Berkeley would love to have you."

I hated to dim the joy creeping onto her face. "If it were possible for  me to keep you with me and give you both, I would in a heartbeat,  sweetheart," I answered. "But I have another two and a half years on my  contract. Besides that, do you really want to leave your family? You'll  miss so much of Gregory's life." I was laying it on pretty thick, but  desperate times and all that.

She sighed, "Well, what about long distance? We can do it for that long.  Then your contract will be over and I can return here for the rest of  my education. Maybe by then, you'll be ready to go back to writing full  time and take some time off from teaching again?" Her voice was on the  verge of pleading.         

     



 

This was not an option I'd even entertained, not for one second and the  fact that she even suggested it had my temper coming to a boil. I  started a mental tally in my head. One.

"No fucking way, Charlotte. You will be sleeping in my bed from now on. That subject is closed and not up for discussion."

Charlotte looked taken aback for a moment. Then she jumped off the couch  and stood over me, her hands on her hips, and her chest heaving with  anger. Holy fuck! She looked hot as fucking hell. Focus, I needed to  focus.

"So, it's your way or the highway?"

Two. I glared at her. "There is no ‘highway,' Charlotte. So stop  bringing it up. You are mine. I told you last night, when you let me pop  that sweet cherry, that no other man would ever touch you. I warned you  that you couldn't turn back."

"You have to know this isn't about me wanting another man, Gabe. It's  about me trying to find a solution we can both be happy with. You're  asking me to give up everything, while you give up nothing!" she yelled  at me. "Maybe it's useless for me to even try. Maybe there is no middle  ground. If so, I can solve this problem easily by going to California."  Three.

"Sweetheart, sit down," I suggested, doing my best to keep my voice  smooth. When she didn't do as I asked, I infused steel into my voice.  "Charlotte, sit your pretty little ass down, and do not ever threaten to  leave me." Four.

Something in my tone must have made her realize I wasn't fucking around  and she sat gingerly on the couch, eyeing me warily. "Your sass is sexy  as hell, sweetheart, but you're just asking to be punished for defying  me in the one thing I've asked you not to push."

"Punished?" Her voice squeaked adorably.

"Remember those cuffs?" A small spark of desire mixed with the curiosity  in her eyes. I kept my face impassive, but inside I was smiling like a  Cheshire cat. "Does that intrigue you?" I asked knowingly. She gave me  just the barest nod, seeming confused by her own admission. "You want to  know what it's like to be tied up by me, dominated, owned by me, don't  you?" She blinked at me silently, but once again, I could see everything  in her eyes. I was right about her submissive nature and thinking about  later, when I would show her how much she'll love it...I had to stop.  It wasn't time yet.

I stood and started walking towards the kitchen. It broke the trance-like state that had come over Charlotte.

"Where are you going?"

I glanced back. "I'm not asking you to give up everything, sweetheart.  I'm asking you to mold your dreams. Maybe create new ones," I said over  my shoulder as I reached my destination and pulled a small box from a  drawer and dropped it into my pocket.

When I returned to Charlotte, I went to my knees in front of her. I  wanted her to know that my words were a request, and not a demand. That  despite my dominant and over-possessive nature, there was give and take  in this relationship. Not that I was willing to budge on this, but I  figured giving her the illusion of having a choice would serve me  better.

"Sweetheart, I know things between us are moving at lightning speed.  But, I've loved you for months and now that I have you, I can't give you  up. I can't do it, Charlotte. It would tear me apart." Her face  softened and I could see her love shining through.

"I had every intention of giving you some time before asking this. Not  much, but some. However, I simply can't wait. And, honestly, I don't see  a reason to. Not when I know you love me."

She nodded and her eyes brimmed with tears, whether they were happy or  sad, I wasn't sure yet. "I do, Gabe. I love you more than anything."

I pulled the little box from my pocket and opened it to show her a  sparkling diamond set in rose gold filigree that was molded around it to  form a rose. It was an antique, and when I saw it, it reminded me of my  sweet Charlotte's pink rosebud mouth.

"I want you to be mine in every way possible. I want you to be my wife,  my lover, and the mother of all our children. I want you to raise them  to be strong, independent, and smart, just like their mother. I know  you're young sweetheart, but I also know you will never be more ready to  start a family with me than you are now. Because you will already be  the perfect mother."

Tears slipped down her cheeks, but there was a smile hovering around the  edges of her mouth. Her fingers ghosted over the ring and her smile  grew. "Okay."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, did you just answer ‘okay' to my heartfelt,  poetic, and utterly, devastatingly romantic proposal?" I asked with mock  offense.         

     



 

She laughed, "I'm terribly sorry to have offended your delicate  sensibilities, sir." It took everything in me not to rush her to the  bedroom, get her naked, and hear her call me sir on a moan.

I shook it off as best I could, reminding myself that it was almost  time. Removing the delicate ring from the silk it was nestled in, I  started to slip it onto her finger-

"Wait!" I froze, but held tight when she attempted to pull her hand back.

"Wait, why are you asking me now?"

My brow furrowed, not understanding her question, "What do you mean? I told you, I want you to be mine."

"But why. Why specifically now?"

I gritted my teeth at her inquiry, irritated that she was so close to  seeing my ulterior motive. Did it really matter though? In the end, it  was all because I loved her and couldn't live without her.

"Are you proposing just so I won't leave?" Her voice was rising in pitch  and it made me wince. I refused to attribute any of my reaction to  guilt.

"Of course I don't want you to leave, sweetheart," I answered honestly.  "But, does it really matter when I marry you when it was always going to  happen anyway?"

"Yes it matters, Gabe!" she screeched. "You're supposed to propose  because you're overcome with the need to marry me. Because your love is  so strong that you have no other choice. Not because I was thinking of  leaving and you had no other solution."