Chapter 51

Rated 18.

Charlie's Pov.

The lobby of the Colton Hotel shimmered with an understated elegance, the perfect backdrop for the evening.

I spotted Donna waiting in the lobby, dressed in a stunning sleeveless red gown. Her smile lit up when she saw me, and she waved. I walked briskly toward her, flowers in hand.

"I hope I'm not late?" I asked, handing her the bouquet.

She glanced appreciatively at my blue buttoned shirt and plain black trousers. "You look nice, and yes, you are late. But I know there must be a good reason, right?"

"Yes, there is," I replied. "We just wrapped up the Rupert DuPont case. His chauffeur was the one who killed him."

"Whoa! Really?" she said as we walked to the restaurant area.

"Yes."

"Who knows what Rupert did to the poor guy to warrant such inhumanity? So, you guys have arrested him?"

"No, we haven't. We can't. The guy killed himself," I explained.

"Jesus! That's tragic," she said, her voice softening.

I handed her a flower from the bouquet. "A flower for the most beautiful flower."

Donna blushed, took it, and smelled it. "Thank you, Charlie."

We reached the table where Donna's mother and brother were seated. I gave her mother the rest of the bouquet, which was made up of lilies and wildflowers. She smiled warmly. As I greeted them, I noticed how much Donna resembled her mother. The red hair, the big blue eyes, and the thick "Angelina Jolie" lips were uncanny. Her mother wore a sleek black dress and an intimidating look.

Donna's brother Jake, in a simple red plaid shirt and denim jeans, stood up and extended his hand. "Charlie, it’s a delight to finally put a face to the name. Please, have a seat."

I sat down across from Donna's mother, feeling her scrutinizing gaze. A waitress came to take our orders. Within five minutes of small talk, Donna’s mother, Mrs. Pearson, cut to the chase.

"So, Charlie, apart from being a police detective, what other skills do you have?" Mrs. Pearson asked, her tone probing.

Donna looked anxious, knowing I wasn’t good at answering these kinds of questions that feels like tests. I replied, "Ma'am, I'm also good with computers."

She raised an eyebrow. "So, you're into IT? That means you can work from anywhere, right?"

"Yes, that's right," I said, wondering where this was going.

"That means you can work from Napa Valley," she stated, not so much as a question but a suggestion.

A chill ran down my spine. Was she trying to lure me away from the city, away from the world I knew? Donna's worried glance confirmed my suspicions.

But this wasn’t the only time she would give me a worried look or act anxious throughout the night. At some point it felt as though there was something Donna didn’t her mother to say.

At that moment, the waitress brought our food and Jake produced a bottle of Pearson wine. He poured a glass for me. I took a sip and found it to be excellent.

Just then, Donna excused herself to go to the ladies' room. As soon as she was out of sight, Mrs. Pearson and Jake turned their full attention to me. It felt like an ambush.

"What are your plans for my daughter, Charlie Leone Tucci?" Mrs. Pearson asked, her tone direct and no-nonsense.

I was taken aback by her use of my full name. How did she know my middle name? That name doesn't even appear on my ID.

"You look surprised. Well, we did our due diligence on you and your family. So we know a lot about you. I’m also happy you didn’t follow in your father’s criminal footsteps. So, tell me, young man, what plans do you have for my daughter?"

Still processing her words, I responded, "I do plan to marry her someday, ma'am. With your blessings of course."

"Okay, help me convince her to quit acting, and I promise you, I will support your plans for her."

I was still reeling from her proposition when she added, "Think about it."

Mehn! Only if they knew the lengths I have gone to make Donna quit her acting dreams, I am not going to tell them though, in case this is a test.

Just then, Donna returned and sat with us. "I hope you weren't talking about me?" she asked, smiling.

I smiled back. "No, honey, we were talking about me."

Donna looked relieved, but I could see the curiosity in her eyes. The rest of the evening went by in a blur. We talked about lighter topics, and I made sure to steer the conversation away from the intense interrogation I'd just endured.

************

Louis's Pov.

I had been acting cool since Gerard told me about Claire's recent miscarriage, but I needed time alone with her to discuss things. After Gerard left, Claire and I went to our room. The room was well-lit, and Claire began taking off her clothes, ready for a bath. But before she could finish, I asked, "So, when were you planning to tell me you had a miscarriage?"

She froze for a moment before saying, "So, he told you?"

"It doesn't matter who told me," I replied, my voice thick with pain. "When were you planning to tell me we lost it again?"

Claire's eyes filled with tears. "Maybe when you pay me any mind. You've been way too busy lately, and I've been too sad and grief-stricken to share anything with anyone."

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and I closed the distance between us, pulling her into a tight embrace. Despite my earlier suspicions about the baby's paternity, losing it still hurts.

We stood there, holding each other for what felt like an eternity. Claire kissed me, and I didn’t pull away. We continued kissing, and it quickly escalated to the point of making love. But then, the image of Donna kept appearing in my head. I pulled away from Claire, and she looked at me with desire in her eyes.

"Sorry, I’m just not in the mood. Please forgive me," I said.

Claire persisted, her voice trembling, "You want me to share my pain? This is it, Louis. Help me heal. Touch me and make me forget."

I looked into her eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability there. Pushing thoughts of Donna out of my mind, I began kissing Claire again, more passionately this time. We made love, trying to find solace in each other’s arms amidst the overwhelming pain and grief.

"Take me to bed, Louis," Claire murmured, her voice filled with desire.

I scooped Claire up in my arms and carried and laid her down on the soft, cool sheets.

Claire reached up and pulled me down on top of her, our bodies pressed together as we kissed. My hands roamed over Claire's body, caressing her breasts and teasing her nipples.

"I want you, Louis," Claire moaned, her hips grinding against mine.

I didn't need her to repeat herself. I reached down and pulled off Claire's panties, my fingers exploring her wet, waiting pussy.

Claire moaned, her hips bucking against my hand. "Fuck me, Louis. I need you inside me.”

I positioned myself between Claire's legs, thrust my cock into her pussy, filling her completely. She cried out, her nails digging into his back as I began to move.

"Oh, fuck, Louis. Yes, yes," Claire moaned, her hips meeting mine thrust for thrust.

My fingers found Claire's clit, rubbing it in time with my thrusts. She was close, her moans growing louder and more desperate.

"Come for me, Claire. Let go," I commanded, my fingers working her clit faster.

Claire's orgasm hit her like a wave, her body trembling as she came hard around my cock. I groaned, my thrusts growing erratic as I followed her over the edge.

"Fuck! Donna!," I moaned, my cock throbbing as I came deep inside her.

I lay there, panting, and then it occurred to me the mistake I just made.

Claire looked at me, disgust etched on her face, “You bastard!!”