[Charlie's Mercedes – After Lunch]
Charlie sat in the driver's seat, engine off, seat reclined just enough to blur the line between casual and calculated. Laura was curled toward him in the passenger seat, one hand on his chest, the other tangled in his hair.
They were kissing slowly and deeply, a little hungrily, but with a restraint that only intensified the desire.
Charlie pulled back for a breath, lips swollen, eyes slightly dazed. "You're trouble," he muttered.
Laura smiled, her lipstick faintly smudged, her pupils dialed in on his like she could read his pulse. "And you like that."
He swallowed hard. She was right.
They leaned in again. This time it was her doing the work, brushing her lips along his jawline, her nails grazing lightly down his side. Charlie exhaled through his nose like a man trying not to pass out.
His fingers found her hip, pulled her closer, just until the gear shift jabbed him in the thigh. He winced. She laughed.
"You're still sore, aren't you?"
Charlie closed his eyes. "I have no idea what my pain threshold is anymore. I think my body is holding secret meetings without me."
Laura bit his earlobe gently and said, "Why don't we go home, and I'll give you a nice massage?"
Charlie smirked and rested his head back against the seat. "You know, I usually do the massaging. I'm kind of a giver that way."
Laura leaned in again, her voice low and teasing. "Even givers need to receive sometimes. Especially when they're limping from overuse."
He let out a tired chuckle. "Point made. And fine. I'll take the help. But if I start snoring, don't take it personally."
"Deal," she said, and kissed him one more time. Then she sat back, eyes sparkling. "Let's go."
Charlie turned the key, and the Mercedes purred to life. They didn't talk much on the drive. The kind of silence that wasn't awkward but warm, like two people settling into something familiar. By the time they pulled up to the house, it was already 3:10 PM.
Inside, they kicked off their shoes and headed straight for his room.
Charlie took off his jacket and dropped it on the armchair. Laura watched him move, every muscle tight and overworked from days of, well, everything. He reached for the hem of his shirt and winced.
"You okay?" she asked, amused.
"Yeah, just... my back thinks I'm seventy."
She walked over and helped him, pulling the shirt off carefully, her fingers grazing his sides in a way that made him shiver. He sat on the edge of the bed, unbuckled his belt, and let out a sigh that could have come from a grandfather at a retirement party.
"Lie down," she said.
He did. Face-down, arms stretched out like he was about to be sacrificed to the massage gods. The mattress dipped as she climbed up next to him, straddling his thighs with ease.
Her hands started at his shoulders. She worked her way down his back, pressing into the knots with the skill of someone who had done this before.
Charlie groaned into the pillow. "Okay. I take it back. This might be the best idea you've ever had."
"Mm-hmm," Laura said, her hands gliding over his skin, warm and smooth. "Told you. Just relax and let me take care of everything."
She dug her thumbs gently into the base of his spine, and he actually gasped.
Charlie groaned again, this time with more surprise than pain. "Where the hell did you learn to do that?" he mumbled into the pillow.
Laura smiled as her fingers circled over a particularly tense spot near his shoulder blades. "Took a few massage therapy classes a couple of years ago."
He lifted his head slightly, eyebrows raised. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," she said, pressing her palms down his back with steady pressure. "Back when I was thinking about expanding the tattoo shop. Thought it might be cool to have a massage spa next door. Ink and relaxation, you know?"
Charlie let out a low chuckle. "That sounds... strangely brilliant."
She laughed too, leaning in to whisper near his ear. "Tattoos hurt. Massages don't. I figured it balanced out the karma."
He exhaled a slow breath, every muscle in his body beginning to let go. "And here I thought your only talents involved ink and being dangerously attractive and hot."
Laura smirked and rolled her thumbs along his lower back. "I contain multitudes, Charlie Harper."
"You contain sorcery, is what you contain," he muttered, nearly slurring the words from how relaxed he was getting.
She moved her hands lower, more gentle now, smoothing over his sides. "You deserve it. You've been going nonstop, and it shows. You're all wound up. Lisa must have wrung you out like a dish towel. So, spill the details. I want to make a list for our exclusive sex marathon."
Charlie laughed into the pillow, the kind of laugh that sounded like someone both proud and permanently exhausted. "You really want the full report?" he said, voice muffled.
Laura's fingers didn't stop moving. "Lay it on me. I want the whole damn highlight reel."
Charlie turned his head to the side, grinning. "Alright. Buckle up."
He stretched one arm lazily out to the side like he was recalling war stories.
"First night? Hours. And I mean hours of oral. Back and forth. Like a mutual worship marathon. Tongue cramps were real. Then it turned into... everything. Every position in the book. Amazon? Check. Cowgirl, reverse, sideways, and I think at one point I accidentally invented a new one."
Laura chuckled but kept working on his back and thought, 'Amazon position, huh?!'
"Then I motorboated so hard I nearly blacked out. After that, she went full-on boobjob mode. Like, aggressive... and fast. Made me shoot in less than a minute. And the next day? More of the same, but worse. Or better. Depends on how you look at it."
He let out a breathy chuckle. "Anal? Yeah. Happened. Out of nowhere. Like, 'surprise, bend over' kind of moment. Didn't even see it coming. Literally."
'Fuck! I'm so horny right now,' Laura laughed out loud. "Jesus, Charlie."
"Oh, it gets better. Or dumber. At one point, she had me standing, she was on the bed, pulling me in, and I was just like, this is the Olympic event no one trained for. And the creampies... I stopped counting. Lost track after the third. Or fifth. There was a lot of... leaving my mark. Luckily, she had enough pills. Don't know if that's gonna work after all that."
Laura let out a long whistle. "Damn. You weren't joking about being sore."
Charlie sighed. "I didn't even know I had muscles in half the places that are hurting right now. I feel like I went through boot camp and got a participation trophy shaped like a pillow."
Laura leaned in, kissed his shoulder lightly, and whispered, "You got any left in the tank?"
Charlie groaned into the mattress. "I got fumes. I'm running on charm and electrolytes at this point."
"Well, no worries. I'll ride you after you get back to 100%," She whispered before kissing his neck.
...
[A few minutes later]
Lisa parked her car in the garage and then walked toward the front door. She noticed that there was a letter in the box. It was in Charlie's name from Firelight Studios.
"He's going to be so happy."
She walked in through the front door, arms loaded with groceries. She dropped the bags on the kitchen counter, kicked off her sneakers, and called out, "I'm back!"
No response.
She put away the kale, protein bars, almond milk, and the random jar of pickled radish that she had promised herself she would throw into Charlie's smoothie just to see if he would notice.
Once everything was stocked, she grabbed a bottle of kombucha from the fridge and took a sip.
It was still quiet.
She tilted her head, listening. She could hear muffled voices upstairs. One of them was definitely Charlie. The other?
She smirked.
Of course.
Lisa headed upstairs, moving casually. She was holding the letter and the kombucha bottle. As she approached Charlie's bedroom door, she heard soft laughter. Then Laura's voice. Then Charlie groaning something about creampies and Olympic sex.
Lisa's eyebrow arched. "God, he's oversharing again," she muttered with a half-smile.
She knocked once. Didn't wait and opened the door.
Charlie was lying face-down on the bed, half-melted into the sheets like he'd just survived a siege. Laura was straddling his thighs, giving him a massage with the intensity of someone who took their craft seriously. Her dress straps had slipped down her shoulders, her lips were glossy, and her expression was flushed from laughter.
Both of them looked up.
"Hey, Lisa," Laura said with a smile.
"Well," Lisa said calmly, "looks like somebody couldn't wait."
Charlie groaned into the pillow. "We were just talking."
"About creampies, apparently," Lisa replied, her tone dry. "That's usually more of a dessert topic, Charlie."
Laura smirked but kept her hands moving across his back, now slow and sensual. "He was giving me the rundown on your, uh, marathon."
Lisa raised a brow, sipping again. "Full highlights, huh?"
"He spared no detail. I have position names. Timestamps. Possibly a GPS map."
Charlie let out a low whine. "I'm too sore to be roasted."
Lisa walked into the room and stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at him. "So, how's she?"
He gave her a thumbs up, "Perfect."
"By the way," She held the letter before his eyes. "A letter from the studio. Want me to open it?" She asked.
Lisa broke the seal cleanly. Inside was a paper that looked like some kind of contract. Then a letter. She unfolded it. Laura had paused her massage now, her hands resting lightly on Charlie's back, curiosity pulling her upright. She scanned the letter in silence, lips pursed. Then a slow smile started to creep across her face.
Charlie turned his head slightly, watching her. "Well? Am I being sued by ASCAP? Did they finally catch me for plagiarizing my own jingles?"
Lisa rolled her eyes and began reading aloud:
...
"Dear Mr. Harper,
We at Firelight Studios want to thank you for submitting your EP. After reviewing your work, our team was blown away by the emotional depth, lyrical honesty, and tone of voice in all three tracks.
We are excited to invite you to join us in Los Angeles for studio recording sessions. Our Studio head, Miss. Rosabella would like to offer you full creative freedom for your tracks during the session. As part of an experimental new project, we're also producing visual stories to accompany each song, and we would be thrilled if you would consider performing and appearing in them.
Should you accept this opportunity, our first studio session is scheduled for May 1.
We look forward to making something unforgettable with you.
Sincerely,
Amanda Monroe
Creative Director, Firelight Studios"
...
There was a beat of silence.
Then Charlie sat up fast, eyes wide. "Wait! What? Full creative control? Music videos? Me in them?"
Lisa nodded. "They're handing you the reins."
Laura gave his shoulder a playful shove. "Look at you, Rockstar. EP drops, studio calls, and now they want your face on camera."
Charlie blinked, still processing. "They actually liked it. Not just 'we'll throw this in a playlist' liked it, but they want me there. Me. Performing. In videos."
"You deserve it," Lisa said simply, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. "You showed up. You wrote like a real artist. Now you get to act like one."
Charlie ran a hand through his hair. "Holy hell."
"You gonna say yes?" Laura asked.
He didn't hesitate. "Hell yes. I'm in. I'm so in. But first, I think I'll properly read their terms and conditions. Can't let them make me take the fall if things blow up."
"C'mon, don't be so negative," Laura said as she laid and pressed her boobs on his back.
"Yeah, she's right. I think this is it, your calling. Don't be so negative. But terms and conditions matter too. So read them properly before signing," Lisa said as she folded the letter and placed it on the bed.
"By the way, LA, huh?!" Charlie said and then paused for a moment. "Who's coming with me?"
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