Page 93 of Between the Lines

Charlotte takes another step closer, as if I’m not seconds away from snapping.

“You’re this turned on by me?”

The question is so shyly asked, like there could be other alternatives. I give a hoarse chuckle and push a hand through my hair. “I thought we established that earlier. And turned on is a mild way of putting it. I need you. I have for weeks. Lately, I haven’t been able to sleep for wanting you so fucking much. So yes. I’m very turned on, Chaos, and it’s inconvenient as hell, because we onlyjustagreed to have fun together.”

Her eyes drop down again, lingering briefly on my bare chest, and then focusing on the outline in my sweatpants.

“Can I help?”

CHAPTER 34

CHARLOTTE

It’s thrilling.

To see Aiden standing in front of me in his kitchen—tall, broad, half-naked. He hasn’t put on a shirt, and there’s so much ripped chest on display. Strong arms, corded with muscles, and broad shoulders. He looks so solid. A wide slab of a man.

There’s dark hair on his chest, same shade as the hair on his head. And a happy trail from his navel that disappears beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, where the thick outline of his erection is clear.

Because of me.

“Can I help?” I ask. My voice sounds a bit breathless, even to my own ears. He hadn’t let me reciprocate the other week. It had just been me, losing control on that couch, and I want to regain some of it.

Put us back on even footing.

“Charlotte,” he says, and his eyes drift closed. He’s breathing hard. “If you touch me…”

“Yeah?” I close the distance between us and put my hands on his waist. Slide them over the flat of his stomach and the firm muscles beneath.

He exhales hoarsely. “I’m going to explode.”

I glide my hand down, trailing my fingers lightly over the soft fabric. God, he’s thick. I remember that from Utah. But it had been dark and late at night, and I hadn’t been exploring as properly as I would’ve liked. As I want to do now.

I stroke him through his pants.

A groan escapes him. “You’re playing with me, Chaos.”

“You like games,” I say. Him in these gray sweats should be illegal. They hide nothing, and now I can’t believe it wasn’t the first thing I saw when he opened his bedroom door, face tense and shirt off.

“Mm-hmm. And you want to explore, do you?” He turns his back to the kitchen island and grips it behind him with both hands. Taking himself out of the equation… and giving me free rein. His eyes are dark, his jaw is tense. “You do whatever you want.”

I reach for the waistband. Pull it down an inch, and then two, over his straining hardness. He’s not wearing briefs beneath the pants.

His cock emerges, with the domed head and a vein snaking up along the shaft. I grip him.

His breath catches.

He’s firm, but the skin is softer than anywhere else on him. I stroke him slowly and look up to see his teeth grind together. He’s gripping that counter hard.

“Payback,” I say lightly. “For the other night.”

“Mm-hmm,” he grinds out.

“You made me come so hard when I thought I wouldn’t.” I reach down and find the heavy weight of his balls. I roll them in my free hand.

“Fuck,” he bites out. They’re sensitive as hell, I know. And right now, he’s in the palm of my hand.

I stroke faster and let my hand curve over the broad head on every pass. He nearly bucks into my hand, and beneath my grip, I feel him twitch. Is he close already?

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