Page 103 of Between the Lines

Tomorrow, it all starts over again. More meetings. More fires to put out. And on Friday, the Titan Media’s annual gala, where all the eyes will be on me for hours on end.

With this investigation hanging over me.

You build and build, only to have all of it threatened by a split second of bad press.

Soft footsteps sound through the living room. I look up to find Charlotte entering the living room. She’s in a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, her hair loose and wavy.

Her eyes are wide on me. I believed she was already asleep. I got home late.

“Hey,” she says. “Are you okay?”

She’s so beautiful it hurts to look at her. My want of her flares to life again, and I hate myself for our earlier argument. For having to pretend she’s just a business associate. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” She walks across the carpet and looks from me to the tumbler I’ve just emptied. “I heard about… today.”

“Did you, huh? You and everyone else.” My words come out angry, but it’s not her I’m angry with. Never her.

I shake my head to chase the spite away.

“Aiden,” she murmurs, and I close my eyes at the tone in her voice. If she doesn’t go away, I’m going to do something stupid. I can feel it growing, the need to reach out and pull her down beside me.

“I spoke to Eric a bit. He said it wasn’t true.”

“It’s not. My lawyers are already fighting it. But that doesn’t stop news outlets from running with it.”

She stops in front of me, stepping in between my splayed knees. “I know,” she says, and there’s a fierceness in her voice that takes my breath away. “They’ll say anything if it makes them money.”

I reach up, fit my hands to her waist. The thin garment she’s wearing does nothing to stop the warmth of her skin from seeping into my palms.

“I’m not in a good mood,” I tell her. “And we argued earlier.”

She runs a hand along my jaw. Her touch is light, sending shivers down my spine. The want is like acid on my tongue. “I can tell,” she says. “Do you want to be alone?”

I pull her onto my lap. Her breath hitches, her legs settle on either side of mine. “No.”

“Good,” she murmurs and slides her arms around my neck.

I kiss her hard. It’s more forceful than usual, and I can’t stop, can’t prevent myself from crushing her against my chest. But Charlotte doesn’t seem to mind.

She kisses me back and moans against my lips when I roll her against my erection.

“Just let me make you feel good,” I whisper. My hands are on her shorts, fingers slipping above the waistline and finding the warm skin of her hips. “That’s all I need. You ran away the other night before I could make you feel good.”

“Aiden.” Her voice is a soft breath against my lips, her hands dig into my shoulders. I love it when she clings to me like this. She’d done it on the couch too, when I fingered her, holding on to me like I was her anchor.

I want to wipe away this day.

My hands move up, gliding over her rib cage. Pushing her tank top upward with each movement until her tits are free, their faint swells filling my hands. Energy pulses through me at the sight.

“You’re so pretty.” I lean forward and catch her nipple with my mouth. Use my teeth. Charlotte’s breath hitches on a moan, and I fucking love that, too. Love it just as much as I love her tits in my face. Love everything about her, and maybe the strength of my feelings would scare me if I wasn’t half a bottle deep and drunk out of my mind on her.

“No compliments,” she whispers. She tugs off her tank top, and it lands somewhere behind us with a muted whoosh.

“Is that a new rule?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Getting the pajama shorts off is harder. She’s straddling me, and I don’t want to let her go, even for a second. I grip the garment at her hips and fist the fabric in my hands.

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