Page 92 of Between the Lines

I pour myself a large glass of cold water, add some ice, and then drain it completely.

“What’s wrong?” she asks me. Her voice is careful. “Was it very expensive? I’m really sorry.”

I glare at her.

“Oh. Right,” she says. “Maybe it had sentimental value? I’ll replace it if I can, Aiden. I promise.”

“I don’t care about whatever that fucking thing was. You just helped me declutter.” I set the glass back down and I’m grateful for the kitchen island separating us. Hiding my lower half.

Her eyes widen. “Oh. Well, then, what’s wrong? Did the security alarm scare you?” She walks around the counter, step by step, and I want to warn her away. Danger lies here.

My entire body tightens at her nearness.

“Chaos,” I warn her.

There’s a small furrow between her eyebrows. Like she’s concerned, and it’s such an unwarranted sweetness, that it makes me sigh in frustration. I want her more than my next breath, and she’s concerned.

“You’re upset,” she says softly. Her gaze drops down to my hand, gripping the edge of the counter. And then further down.

Her gaze lingers for a moment and then returns quickly to my face. A flush creeps up her neck, out from the neckline of her scarlet Idaho State T-shirt. Everything is Idaho-themed with her. I find myself wanting to go there. I’ve never been.

But I want to. Visit the small town she’s from. Meet the parents she’s mentioned. All of it.

“I’m not upset,” I say.

“I’m so sorry,” she says again.

I shake my head and grit my teeth. “You have to stop apologizing tonight, Chaos. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“How… why…” She stammers as if the words are too hard to get out. Nearly as hard as I am.

“Why am I… affected?”

Charlotte nods. It’s a small, breathless movement.

“Remember when I walked in on you at the hotel? When you were in the shower?” I take a step closer, my hand tightening around the edge of the countertop. “You knocked on my door tonight.”

“While you were…”

“You can say it.” At this point, I’m just taunting her. Against all my better instincts. But I’ve always loved seeing her reactions.

There’s a flicker of shyness in her eyes, and then she pulls her shoulders back. I love that movement. The expression that settles over her face when she decides to push through and go for what she wants.

“While you were jerking off.”

I give a hoarse chuckle. “Jerking off. Yes, I suppose you could say that. I was seconds away from coming when you knocked on that door.”

“I’m sorry,” she breathes.

I lean in closer. “For the love of God, Charlotte, stop apologizing tonight for things that aren’t your fault.”

Her chest rises and falls quickly beneath that thin T-shirt. “I feel like I’m responsible for a lot tonight.”

“You are. But none of them are things you said sorry for.” I’m going to hell. I know that. But there’s no stopping this, not when her eyes are on me like that, when her body is only a couple of feet away, and my balls are fucking pulsing with need. “My hard-on, Chaos? That’s entirely because of you.”

There’s a spark of delight in her eyes.

I groan at the sight. Fucking hell, it’s not fair for her to look pleased at that. Not when I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

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