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CHAPTER TEN

“Do you have everything you need?” Sutton asked Lucy as she helped her zip up her jacket. “You have your stuffed dog?”

“Yes!” her daughter exclaimed, her big, blue eyes blinking sleepily already. She was valiantly fighting feeling as tired as she felt, but… that was Lucy.

Given that it was a holiday, Sutton didn’t hold to Lucy’s typical bedtime, but Sutton didn’t think she’d last too much longer, anyway. It was barely seven now, and she was going for a sleepover with Sutton’s parents at their hotel for the night so they could take her out and about in the morning.

Lucy had been up and running around in excitement since just after six this morning and had gotten to have her sugar high at dessert, around three. She had napped during the Peanuts special, though, and would more than likely con Sutton’s dad into getting her ice cream, so Sutton really couldn’t decide which direction it would go.

She tugged Lucy into her chest for a hug, giving her a kiss on the cheek as she did. “You be good for Grandma and Grandpa, okay?”

“And Auntie Alex,” Lucy promised, wrapping her arms around Sutton’s neck and squeezing.

Sutton smiled as she held a little tighter for a second. “Yes, honey, Auntie Alex, too.”

Her parents and Alex were all staying at the same hotel, and for all Sutton knew, it would be her sister Lucy conned into getting her ice cream. She wasn’t sure who , but she knew it would happen.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mama,” Lucy wished her as they pulled back.

“Happy Thanksgiving, honey.”

Lucy’s attention was already pulling away from her even before Sutton had fully straightened up from their hug and had moved on to Ethan, who’d just finished pulling on his jacket.

Her parents stood ready to go in Sutton’s front hall, and her mom was the first to hug her. As always, her hug was a little tighter, a little more desperate, like she tried to hold on to pieces of Sutton to keep with her during the weeks to months that they didn’t see one another.

Sutton held her back in the same way.

“We’ll see you for brunch tomorrow?” her mom asked quietly, still in the hug.

Despite the fact she was nearing forty, Sutton enjoyed the embrace as she always did. “I’ll meet you at the restaurant,” she confirmed.

As soon as her mom stepped back, her dad stepped in, and so the procession went until her family had all filed out the door, ending with Regan and Emma, who paused, as Regan made eyes at her.

“So…”

Sutton arched her eyebrows, already instinctively knowing what this was about. “So.”

She’d already heard Regan’s delighted feedback regarding Charlotte coming to Thanksgiving since the day she’d told her friend about Charlotte’s attendance last week (“God, having her and your mom in the same place will be priceless!” and “Do you think she knows how to have a holiday meal that’s not all about discussing the national treasury and foreign affairs?” and “Are you going to make googly eyes at her the same way you did when she met your family, back in the day?” and many more).

Regan had opened her mouth to speak, brown eyes bright with words Sutton could predict—wanting to talk about how she felt the day had gone, about the interactions Charlotte had had with her family, about Regan’s impressions of her—before Emma wrapped her arm around Regan’s waist and pulled her close.

“We are not doing this to Sutton right now,” she muttered quietly enough for just the two of them to hear while Sutton’s family mingled on her front stoop, waiting for Regan and Emma to join them.

Sutton gratefully leaned in to hug Emma before doing the same to Regan.

Nevertheless, Regan persisted. “We aren’t doing it now,” she whispered, “but we will be having a debrief soon!”

Sutton could only shake her head as she drew back, even though, as much as Regan could drive her insane, she wanted the debrief. She was self-aware enough to know that Regan was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of friend who would do anything to protect her while also giving her a raw, truthful opinion that kept Sutton’s best interests at heart.

And she was just as grateful for Emma, who had somehow found the best way to manage Regan into containing those moments into appropriate times.

She did want to debrief, she thought, as she shut the door behind them all. But right now was not the time.

Especially given that it was still the day of and Charlotte was still here ; Sutton herself had barely had time to process how she felt about the day.

She took a moment to brace herself against the door, squeezing the handle before pushing herself off it and walking down the hall, intending to find the woman in question.

Charlotte had excused herself to Sutton’s guest room/office to take a phone call—much to the lifted eyebrow of Sutton’s mother; that Sutton hadn’t missed—about a half hour ago, toward the end of the movie.

Which had given Sutton just enough time to delve into what all of this felt like .

It was strange to be sitting, enjoying a holiday tradition with almost all of her favorite people, despite her two brothers not being in attendance, and Charlotte was among them. Strange and wonderful.

She was trying to figure out where Charlotte fit into that and what these feelings she’d been experiencing in different doses all day meant. Watching Charlotte with Lucy, with her mother, with her father, with Regan… it was all so unexpected .

Because if someone had told her only four months ago that Charlotte Thompson would not only be back in her life in any capacity but that Sutton would be inviting her to Thanksgiving dinner with her family, she would have genuinely laughed in their face.

And yet here they were.

And there Charlotte was—unexpectedly back in Sutton’s life, standing in Sutton’s kitchen, at her sink, somehow knowing that the dishes needed to be hand-washed rather than put in the dishwasher.

The sleeves of her business-casual royal blue shirt—a tailored button-up, deliberately flowy over the chest, and undoubtedly costing more than a shirt had the right to cost—were rolled up to her elbows, her hands and forearms sudsy as she seemed to be deep in thought. She’d put her hair up in a bun, and wavy tendrils fell lightly down the back of her neck.

The sight of her jolted Sutton all over again.

It had been such a strange Thanksgiving, one she’d been focusing her attention on just getting through. But now, it was through, and Charlotte was the only one still here.

Sutton cleared her throat as she walked into the kitchen, curiously tilting her head, unable to stop herself from smiling at the strangeness of the image. “I thought you had to take a phone call?”

Charlotte hadn’t seemed to notice her entrance but didn’t startle at Sutton’s presence, which didn’t surprise her either.

“It was unavoidable,” she said, a flash of contrition tugging at her lips. “I’m sorry; I do know that there is a no politics on holidays rule, but, well, in some parts of the world, this is not a holiday at all.”

Her voice was light yet apologetic, and Sutton shook her head, dismissing it.

“That is my mom’s rule; I have a bit more leniency,” she offered jokingly, though it was true.

While Sutton admired her mother a great deal and emulated her more than a bit, they did have their differences.

It didn’t bother her that Charlotte took business calls during their personal times together. She was always apologetic about it, but she did have a very important job that Sutton supported, and she wanted her to be successful.

Not to mention the fact that, even only as her friend, Sutton marveled at Charlotte’s success. She could admit that easily now that they were in a good place. As friends.

“Still…” Charlotte trailed off, a thoughtful look on her face.

It had been there a couple of hours ago, too, when Sutton had first found her in the kitchen. When Charlotte had apologized for their past.

“Sometimes I grade papers while Lucy watches a movie at night; my mom is someone who would have never let work come between bonding time. We are different people,” she teased softly, hoping to rid Charlotte of that very serious look.

Even though Sutton did need to process this holiday, she still knew a few things to be true: She welcomed Charlotte back into her life as her friend. She’d enjoyed their time together. She’d enjoyed Charlotte being among her people tonight, in this capacity. And she’d been appropriately concerned that someone might say something to Charlotte about the past that Sutton had moved on from.

She hadn’t enjoyed that part of today; that much she already knew.

“I’m a little surprised your parents aren’t staying in your guest room,” Charlotte commented, pivoting away from Sutton’s mother as the sole subject of conversation.

She was good at that, but Sutton was also good at picking up on Charlotte’s dodging.

Before she could get drawn into the conversation, though, she stepped up to Charlotte and lightly nudged at her, only taking a moment to be amazed by the fact that even though Charlotte had likely been awake, dressed, and prepared for the day for twelve hours, she still smelled so fresh.

Lightly shaking her head, she reached out to still Charlotte’s hands. “You don’t need to do the dishes. I can just get them done later.”

Charlotte’s hand—warm and soft and wet from the water—gently pushed Sutton’s away. “You fed me the best holiday meal I’ve ever had; I can wash some dishes.”

“Are you sure you know how?” she joked, arching an eyebrow, then laughing at the offended look on Charlotte’s face.

“ You act like you weren’t raised by a bestselling author and a career politician, Sutton Spencer,” Charlotte reprimanded her, the deeply contemplative look fading into something much lighter as she flicked water at Sutton.

Sutton flinched, cutting off her laughter. “Well, I think my parents did a lot more to try to keep me humble,” she pointed out. “I went to public school, did chores, got grounded.”

“ You never got grounded,” Charlotte stated with authority despite having never discussed this topic before.

Sutton found herself laughing as she nodded. “Fine, yes, but my brothers and Alex did, and so did Regan.”

“Of course your mother would also ground Regan.” Charlotte laughed.

She liked this. This rhythm, the beat they’d developed years ago and had now managed to return to. And she enjoyed finding it at the end of such a truly interesting day.

“Fine, though, throw your doting home life back in my face,” Charlotte scoffed at her, but there was a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Sutton had found that Charlotte enjoyed the little jokes and mentions of life like this as they worked on the story of her life together. She didn’t often make commentary on Charlotte’s childhood with her parents, though, as Charlotte herself didn’t often talk about it.

In fact, Sutton had learned almost every story about Charlotte’s childhood—beyond cursory facts about her parents and occasional anecdotes about her and her brothers—only because of the biography. It hadn’t been something Charlotte discussed in detail in their history together, and Sutton, ridiculously, hadn’t ever asked. Not that she’d felt it was her place to press about Charlotte’s parents, anyway.

She did still feel it , if she was honest. It being the curiosity she’d had back then, wondering all about Charlotte and what made her who she was.

But she was fairly certain that anyone who got to know Charlotte on any personal level would want to know those things.

“So, the guest room?” Charlotte prompted as she resumed washing the dishes, giving Sutton a sidelong look. “I just, as with the aforementioned doting childhood, imagine that your parents would like to spend as much time with you while they’re here as they possibly can.”

Sutton blinked back to the moment as she reached for a dishtowel to dry everything Charlotte washed. They stood shoulder to shoulder, and she could feel the comforting warmth of Charlotte’s body next to hers as she considered the words.

“They do,” she agreed. “And they usually do stay with us here when they come to visit. But given that it was a whole group coming, with Ethan and Alex and Chris, it just was easier to have them all staying in the same place. They’re only ten minutes away.”

Charlotte hummed in acknowledgement. “They clearly dote on Lucy.”

“Maybe too much,” Sutton agreed, smiling down at the serving dish she was drying.

Her parents did love to spoil Lucy, often citing it as long-distance grandparents’ rights. Sutton had a hard time arguing.

“It’s impossible for a grandparent to love their grandchild too much,” Charlotte said softly, rinsing the dish in her hands, slowly turning it under the faucet.

The thoughtful tone was back in her voice as she started to wash the final dish. Sutton studied Charlotte closely, her heart feeling suddenly very full. Achingly full, at the tenderness in Charlotte’s words.

It was the first Thanksgiving since Charlotte’s grandmother had died, Sutton only realized in that moment, and she felt like an utter fool. The thought wiped the smile from her mouth as she looked closely at Charlotte’s profile.

“Would you normally have spent today with your grandmother?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“She wasn’t one to be big on the holidays necessarily, but I would have joined her in the afternoon for tea and dessert.” Charlotte’s teeth bit into her bottom lip, against a fond smile. “Your mother would have hated it; full of politics talk. But it was nice for us.”

The affection in her voice was so endearing in a way that Charlotte typically wasn’t. Well, not outwardly, not with most people, though Sutton herself was a party to it more than most.

The thought made her own chest feel warm, and suddenly, though she’d been anxious and doubtful about what today would bring, Sutton felt so fucking glad she’d invited Charlotte. It didn’t matter that the invitation had only rolled off her lips because they’d been caught in a moment .

The thought of her sitting at her home, alone, doing work, while Sutton was having a nice day, surrounded by people who loved her, made her ache.

“I’m glad you came here today.” The words left her as a whisper, but she meant them with her whole heart.

Charlotte finished rinsing the dish as she murmured back, “I am, too.”

Still, as she reached out to turn the faucet off, the thoughtful look was back on her face, the one from earlier. The one that she’d worn since Sutton had found her. One that told Sutton that she was thinking about something important.

Sutton couldn’t help but ask about it. “Are you?”

Surprised light brown eyes moved to catch Sutton’s, Charlotte’s eyebrows crinkling in question. “What do you mean?”

Sutton worried at the inside of her cheek before she asked the same thing she’d asked earlier. “Who said something to you tonight? About…” How should she phrase this? How should she phrase the big thing between them that they didn’t really talk about? “The past,” she settled on.

She already disliked the idea that someone had said anything, but she disliked it even more now. She wanted this friendship, and her home by extension, to be a place for Charlotte to feel welcome and comfortable.

Charlotte turned to face her, staring intently up into Sutton’s eyes, before she slowly shook her head. “It… doesn’t matter.”

At least it wasn’t denial. Still, Sutton felt bolstered as she put her hands on her hips. “It matters to me . Regan or my mother,” she muttered aloud; they had to be the culprits. “I invited you here as my guest. My friend. And earlier, you looked…”

She struggled to find the right words. Remorseful? Guilty? Just plain sad ?

“It truly doesn’t matter, Sutton.” Charlotte’s voice was firm and unyielding and yet somehow still coaxing. Like she knew she could get Sutton to see her point. “It doesn’t matter,” she repeated, “because they said something I needed to hear. And my apology was something I needed to say.”

The raw honesty in her tone caught Sutton up in the moment. She could only stare down at Charlotte, desperately curious to know what she was thinking. She worried it would be something that might disrupt this peace they’d cultivated in the last weeks, but she was also unwilling to be the first one to speak and break the moment.

“I hurt you. Badly,” Charlotte began. “And I knew I was doing it, even though it was never my intention. I know we don’t talk about it and that it’s been a long time and that you got married and had a beautiful daughter afterward, but taking ownership of the things you’ve done to hurt people is the right thing to do.” Her tone was so sincere, so genuine, and her words were…

Well, there was a reason Charlotte was a popular speaker.

Sutton could admit she had fallen captive to Charlotte as a thinker and an orator just as much as anyone else who’d ever voted for her.

“And you, more than anyone, are someone I’ve never wanted to hurt,” Charlotte finished as she reached out to slowly, deliberately dry her hands, plucking the dishtowel from Sutton’s own. The dishtowel she’d forgotten had ever been in her grasp. “So I am. I’m sorry.”

Her heart had lurched in her chest, though, at the words her twenty-five-year-old self would have longed to hear, even if they weren’t the words she’d longed to hear. And maybe it was more than her body’s reaction to the words.

Maybe it was the reaction to Charlotte saying them and meaning them, so intently.

At the intense look on her face Sutton’s heart pounded harder. There was a reason they didn’t discuss this, she thought dimly; her throat was so dry, and her mind was moving a mile a minute.

Their past had been fraught with feelings , at least on Sutton’s side, and their residual chemistry lingered. While it could often be managed, with the proper ignorance and care, it was best to not ever acknowledge it so directly.

Acknowledging this was… dangerous.

Very dangerous.

The why was being so acutely thrown in her face in the moment. There were only inches between them, and they were breathing in the same air, and the second Sutton ever let herself feel it was the second her control wanted to slip.

Especially because she recognized the look in Charlotte’s eyes right now. For all Charlotte Thompson was world-class in disguising and mitigating and hiding her emotions with her admittedly skilled poker face, Sutton knew when Charlotte wanted her.

That had been something she’d never had to doubt or second-guess, not after they’d started truly sleeping together back then. The look was the same one now, a hunger that stole over Charlotte’s features, her cheeks flushing just a bit, her voice falling ever so slightly lower.

She heard it as Charlotte murmured, “I know we’re being friends , I know that.” Dark eyes slid so slowly over Sutton’s throat, watching the way she could feel herself swallowing heavily, likely noting the way her heart hammered unstoppably at her pulse point. She knew it because she knew Charlotte was just as acutely aware of what Sutton looked like when she wanted. After all, it had been Charlotte who’d shown Sutton what it was like to really want in the first place. “And I know that means I shouldn’t say this…”

She lifted her gaze to Sutton’s. “But I don’t think we were meant to be only friends, Sutton,” Charlotte declared, and Sutton’s mind went reeling with the statement. “I wasn’t put on this earth to be your friend.”

God. Sutton didn’t know how to address this. She hadn’t been prepared for this. She resolutely did not think about this because it wasn’t what they were supposed to be doing here.

Yet she couldn’t brush it off. She wanted to. She wanted to tell Charlotte that she knew they couldn’t do this. That they both knew this would be stupid.

But her words failed her because… Sutton wanted .

She wanted Charlotte Thompson with a feverish ache that had never been replicated. She felt it clawing through her, desperate to be acknowledged after weeks of being forced into dormancy.

“I didn’t think you believed in meant to be or any higher power,” she managed to point out. Her voice was barely above a rasp, but she was utterly unable to help it.

She saw Charlotte shiver at it.

Fuck.

Charlotte tilted her head up, swaying closer into Sutton’s space. Too close. Close enough to cloud her senses entirely.

“I don’t,” she declared, shaking her head with a dismissal so certain. “I’m not talking about any of that.” Charlotte’s tongue flicked over her lips, and Sutton tried not to stare but was entirely helpless to stop. “I’m saying, biologically, physiologically… you and I…” They both watched as Charlotte’s hand reached out and tucked Sutton’s hair behind her ear. Her fingertips were so light it was hardly even a caress.

She felt it, the warmth and the knowledge of that touch, echo through her, and she was the one who shivered now.

She knew Charlotte saw it, too.

“We were simply not made to be just friends, Sutton Spencer,” Charlotte finished as she dropped her hand.

Charlotte stared at her, gaze searching Sutton’s, though she didn’t step back.

There was such an openness and honesty there that it sent a shock wave right through Sutton, even if she was becoming familiar with it. It didn’t matter that this had been the way Charlotte had been with her since they’d returned to one another’s lives; it just—it was so hard to mix the Charlotte in her mind with this woman in front of her.

The Charlotte of the past had been teasing and all-knowing and charming and in control but so rarely vulnerable or earnest—and rarely intentionally so. Meanwhile, the woman in front of her gave apologies about the past and made declarations that they were not made to be just friends .

And Sutton felt it, the lurching of her heart in her chest, the strength of which only Charlotte could bring out in her.

Still, though, she felt paralyzed as her emotions ran amok through her. There was surprise at where this night had turned, wonder at who exactly Charlotte was now. And there was… sheer desire.

“I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation with this,” Charlotte said quietly after a long moment. “I just wanted to be honest with you about what I’m… feeling. I think, after our history, you deserve that.”

Sutton could only stare, frozen, as her heart pounded.

Charlotte’s lips ticked into a small smile as she stepped back, giving Sutton room enough to draw in a breath without it taking over her senses. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Sutton’s spinning thoughts hadn’t caught up with her yet, but—but no .

She reached out, wrapping her hand around Charlotte’s wrist. “You can’t—” She had to pause to swallow, hard. “You can’t just say those things to me and then leave.”

No, that couldn’t be the way this happened. Maybe she was thinking about the past too much, now that Charlotte had mentioned it, but Charlotte had been the one to call them off all those years ago. Charlotte had been the one to bring their sexual relationship to an end when Sutton had felt like it should have only just been beginning.

That was all she could think about as the want stormed through her, landing between her legs, making her throb with the sentiment behind Charlotte’s words.

“You were the one who stopped us back then,” she pointed out. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stepped even closer to Charlotte. She kept the hold she had, firm but not gripping, on Charlotte’s wrist, keeping her there.

But Charlotte wasn’t pulling back. Instead, she leaned against the counter and nodded. “I know.”

“You were the one who wanted to be only friends back then,” she reiterated.

“I know,” Charlotte confirmed, her voice soft, and this time, Sutton’s eyes followed the column of Charlotte’s throat as she swallowed hard.

Sutton didn’t even think as she stepped up even closer, boxing Charlotte in against her counter. She stared down at her, unable to even properly place the feelings raging through her if she tried.

“I didn’t want to stop sleeping together. I only ever wanted you ,” she confessed, not even able to find a shred of her youth’s embarrassment at the words. “You drove me crazy, and I thought about you constantly. About the way you made my body feel. About how much I wanted to touch you. You can’t say you don’t believe we were meant to be just friends when you were the one who ended that.”

Charlotte angled her chin up at Sutton, melting against the counter, against Sutton’s body. She could feel the press of Charlotte’s chest against hers, how fast her heart was beating. Or maybe that was Sutton’s own heart. She didn’t know.

She just knew that… she wanted . She wanted clarity, she wanted to be able to see this – them – clearly, and she desperately, deeply wanted Charlotte.

“I know, darling. It was never because I didn’t want you , though,” Charlotte explained, her voice hardly a murmur and an octave deeper as she flicked her gaze from Sutton’s eyes down to her lips. “You know I wanted you. From the very first day I saw your picture , Sutton, I wanted you. And it was never sated. I?—”

That was enough.

That was all Sutton needed or wanted or could stand to hear.

She used the hold she still had on Charlotte’s wrist to tug her forward, her other hand coming up to cup Charlotte’s jaw, holding her in place as she descended.

Their lips were already open as Sutton fell into the kiss. Furious and demanding and yes . Yes , she wanted this. Yes , she wanted Charlotte with a terrifying, ridiculous, needy arousal with which she’d never wanted anyone else.

And yes . She agreed that they were not physiologically ever meant to be just friends. Whatever that could possibly mean, however that sort of chemistry worked.

She could feel it in her veins as she licked into Charlotte’s mouth, swallowing the deep, throaty moan Charlotte let out. The moan reverberated through Sutton’s body, landing in her stomach and then melting lower, making her even wetter than she already was.

It shouldn’t even be possible to be so wet, she thought in the back of her mind. So achingly, pulsatingly soaked , after just a fucking charged conversation.

But this was Charlotte Thompson.

Charlotte arched against her, pressing her body right against Sutton’s, like she wanted to be so close, to feel Sutton against her with everything she had, and she could feel Charlotte’s entire body vibrating against hers.

One of Charlotte’s hands scratched at her neck before carding into her hair, and the other slid down, under Sutton’s shirt.

At the touch of Charlotte’s fingers on her own already-hot skin, she moaned against Charlotte’s mouth. God, yes. She fucking craved this.

Her own hands darted down, tugging Charlotte’s shirt out from where it had been tucked into her pants, wanting to feel the same soft skin. She used her hips to press Charlotte harder into the counter as she ran her hands up Charlotte’s sides, revelling in the feeling of her soft skin.

Charlotte’s nails dug into Sutton’s back, the biting pain driving Sutton higher, making her need ratchet up even higher, burn even hotter.

She slid her hands up higher, leaning back just enough to be able to cup Charlotte’s breasts, thumbing over her hard nipples through her bra. She leaned down, refusing to give up the taste of Charlotte, the soft but so hungry feeling of her kiss.

Like Charlotte craved her just as much.

And she did . She’d admitted to it. She’d never not wanted Sutton; emotionally, there had been everything else that had come between them, but she’d never truly registered how much she’d needed that confirmation till now.

She used more force than was probably necessary to tug the cups of Charlotte’s bra down. She didn’t need to take the garment off yet; she just needed to feel her. She pinched Charlotte’s nipples, already so hard, and felt Charlotte’s body jerk against hers, her hips starting to rock into Sutton’s.

Charlotte had wanted Sutton from the first day, from the moment she’d seen her picture.

The thought drove her forward, decisively kicking Charlotte’s feet apart, and pressed her thigh right in between Charlotte’s legs.

Through both of their pants, she could feel how hot Charlotte was for her already. She felt it even before her nails scratched down Sutton’s back, holding tightly on to her hips, trying to pull her closer.

Charlotte’s want for her had never been sated.

She rocked her thigh hard up against Charlotte, groaning roughly in the back of her throat just thinking about the words.

She jerked one of her hands out from under Charlotte’s shirt, then reached up and took out the elastic holding her hair in place so she could slide her hand into Charlotte’s hair. She held her still so she could suck at her bottom lip, scraping her teeth over it.

Charlotte cried out in pleasure at the sensation, her hips moving faster against Sutton’s.

“God, yes,” Charlotte groaned in the back of her throat before Sutton’s mouth reclaimed hers.

She’d never really thought about this, about the insecurities that must have remained somewhere deep down, after Charlotte had ended things. There was so much else for her to think about that, clearly, this hadn’t been at the forefront.

But she’d needed to hear it.

Then again, maybe hearing it was the most dangerous thing that had happened all night. The most dangerous thing that could happen between them.

Because now she needed the proof of it. She needed Charlotte again, and not in a way that was easily explained by the fact that they had undeniable chemistry. No, she needed Charlotte in the way that Charlotte wanted her, the way she’d wanted her back then.

Sutton didn’t even quite understand the difference in the state of mind she was in now, but she knew it was important and she knew she couldn’t stop it, and she knew she needed to make Charlotte come.

She wanted to make Charlotte Thompson come for her, so hard, while thinking about how much she wanted Sutton. She wanted to make Charlotte come after Charlotte had acknowledged the existence of them as a concept.

But when Charlotte’s hips started moving faster into Sutton’s, the desperation growing, she willed herself to stop.

She tugged her mouth away from Charlotte’s, sliding her hands down to still Charlotte’s hips as she stared down at her face.

The want pounded through her as Charlotte blinked her eyes open. Sutton could see it. She could see that Charlotte would have come right here, from this, with her.

Her face was so flushed, and she breathed so heavily, but Sutton didn’t want it like that. Not this time.

She wanted everything.

She wanted what she’d wanted in the past, and she wanted to reclaim what she’d had. She wanted to see Charlotte, to really touch her. And she wanted it in her bed.

“I want more,” she said, her throat guttural. “I want—I want you, wanting me, all of me.”

Charlotte nodded quickly, needily. “I do. I really do.”

Her pupils were blown. Her ready agreement pushed through Sutton, and she reached down to lace their fingers together and tug Charlotte back in to kiss her.

She used her other hand to steady herself against Charlotte’s hip, instinctively walking backward toward the kitchen doorway. Charlotte followed her, body moving in sync with Sutton’s as if they’d moved like this, body to body, millions of times before and hadn’t stopped for the last decade.

It made no logical sense. It shouldn’t. They shouldn’t fit together so easily, she thought with whatever clarity she could hold on to through the raging lust working through her veins.

But they did.

Charlotte reached under Sutton’s shirt as they stumbled down the hallway, gripping at her shoulder blades and sliding her nails down her back as she nipped her teeth into Sutton’s neck.

The dual sensation tore through her, and she surged forward for the final step, roughly forcing Charlotte back against her doorframe as they reached her bedroom.

Charlotte’s sharp intake of breath gave her a moment of pause before it melted into a long, drawn-out moan. She tilted her head up, demanding Sutton’s kiss again as she pressed herself harder against Sutton.

She remembered that about Charlotte, she thought dimly, and it notched up the heat in her body impossibly more.

Charlotte liked that.

She liked when Sutton was in control, when she showed Charlotte how much she fucking wanted her. She’d liked it, too, the few times they’d ever dabbled in any power dynamics. But Sutton hadn’t understood then, not fully, the dynamics she enjoyed during sex or what it meant.

She slid her hand up and gripped Charlotte’s hair, tugging her head back, feeling Charlotte’s answering panting, breathy moans through her entire body. They landed solidly between her legs, and she could feel herself ruining her underwear.

She liked it, figuring out how to take control of Charlotte, even if she’d only ever done it… lightly, back then.

That thought had her dragging her lips up Charlotte’s neck, biting, then sucking, as everything burned even brighter.

Charlotte had stopped this before they could really explore that together.

And she wanted it now . She wanted to be with Charlotte, to take away Charlotte’s control in the ways she’d wished she’d understood more then.

Her hands were frantic as she pulled off Charlotte’s shirt, shaking just a bit with how much she needed . Needed to be able to see Charlotte, to really take her in.

And she did, finally leaning back just enough, her own breath leaving her in heaving pants as the desire took her over. Charlotte’s breasts spilled over the cups of the bra that Sutton had tugged down, the curve of her hips was even fuller now, and she was so stupidly sexy.

Sutton lifted her arms automatically for Charlotte to take off her own shirt. The movement had the same urgency she moved with to slide down Charlotte’s hands, taking her underwear with them. She could see how wet Charlotte was as she did.

So fucking wet , and Sutton was so?—

“I want you so badly,” she admitted, need leaking into her voice.

“I do too?—”

She would never know if Charlotte was done speaking or if there was something else yet to come. She couldn’t wait.

She pressed herself against Charlotte, feeling her entire body skin to skin for the first time in over a decade, as she pressed Charlotte back into the doorframe. Charlotte shivered, arching into Sutton, but her mouth was just as hungry, her hands just as frantic as Sutton felt them streak over her.

Charlotte’s hands scratched up from her hips to her waist, slid to cup her breasts, her hips pressing right into Sutton’s as she kissed back just as fiercely, just as wanton.

Sutton could feel her body responding so easily to the touch. So wanting, so willing to giving into the skillful touch she knew Charlotte had.

Only—

“No.” The word escaped her in nearly a growl as she pulled back from their kiss.

“No?” Charlotte asked, eyebrows arching up in concern. “You don’t?—”

“ I want to touch you,” Sutton told her, staring into Charlotte’s eyes as she slid her hands down to her hips and gripped them. “I’m going to fuck you .”

She felt a ridiculous sense of pride at the way Charlotte’s eyes widened, the way her mouth trembled open. She never would have said that, back then. She never would have felt comfortable, never would have expressed it in that way.

But she would now.

She used her grip on Charlotte’s hips to walk them toward her bed, squeezing a little tighter and feeling her blood start to pound in her veins as Charlotte’s breath escaped her lips in a whimper.

“I’m… surprised,” Charlotte breathed out, even as she arched closer.

“I remember that you like that,” Sutton asserted.

Maybe she should have questioned it, but she didn’t. Because, absurdly, she remembered everything when it came to this, to them.

“And I know now that I do, too.”

With that, she spun Charlotte around to face opposite her and used her hands to encourage Charlotte to climb into her bed.

Which Charlotte readily did, on her hands and knees, and Sutton’s breath stuttered out at the sight. She admittedly had to take a second.

Because… Charlotte Thompson was in her bed. On her hands and knees. And she was so wet for Sutton that she could see her dripping.

For her .

Because Charlotte had never stopped wanting her.

In the crazy, undeniable, ridiculous way that had never stopped.

She swallowed tightly against any of the old thoughts she might have had, against any of those feelings. Because this was not about that .

This was about needing to take Charlotte, to show both of them that this was exactly what Charlotte had said—physiologically impossible to ignore. This was for Sutton to fuck Charlotte in ways she’d made herself stop thinking about so long ago.

Her hands shook with need as she climbed up onto the bed behind Charlotte. She leaned down and kissed Charlotte’s shoulder, sliding her fingers up and moving over Charlotte. She was dripping, and she coated Sutton’s fingers the second she touched her pussy. She couldn’t have stopped her victorious groan if she’d tried.

She had done this to Charlotte. It was her. Just like it used to be.

She touched her lightly, just until Charlotte groaned in frustration, pushing back against Sutton’s hand.

Then she sank her teeth into Charlotte’s shoulder blade and sank two fingers into Charlotte.

They both moaned at the feeling.

Charlotte arched into her touch, pushing back against Sutton’s hand, and she had to fuck her.

She started slowly, for a few thrusts, sliding in deeply.

And when Charlotte released a long, shaking moan, she felt this triumphant, needy, longing feeling slide through her. Melting right into her very bones as she fucked Charlotte harder, faster.

She reached up and gripped Charlotte’s shoulder, pushing her down against the bed as she moved harder, faster, really fucking Charlotte.

The gasps and groans turned into cries of Sutton’s name, and every single one pounded through her until it was all she could hear.

Her name on Charlotte’s lips, Charlotte’s heat around her fingers, Charlotte’s legs sliding open wider to take her even deeper.

Charlotte wanted her, and she felt crazed by the thought.

She’d known for the majority of their friends-with-benefits situation that Charlotte was attracted to her, sure, but it wasn’t like this. This was not the controlled Charlotte she’d once known. The Charlotte who did only ever lose that control—unwillingly, it felt like—in the bedroom.

This was Charlotte who pressed herself back into Sutton with abandon. Her control didn’t slip this time; she’d given it up.

And that knowledge made Sutton moan herself, grinding into her own hand as she used her hips to fuck Charlotte even harder.

Both of Charlotte’s hands gripped Sutton’s sheets, knuckles turning white, as she felt Charlotte get tighter around her fingers. She wanted to feel Charlotte come for her more than she thought she’d ever wanted anything.

No, she didn’t want it; she needed it.

“I need it,” she found herself gasping as she moved her hand faster.

Charlotte only moaned in response.

“I need to see you come for me,” she said again, her own urgency rising as she slid her other hand down and sought out Charlotte’s hard clit.

Within seconds of rubbing her, even from a not-great angle, she felt it. Charlotte’s body froze, then trembled so hard as she cried out.

“Sutton. Sutt— fuck !”

She felt Charlotte contract around her, felt her body shudder so hard as she grinded back into Sutton’s hand.

She didn’t stop moving, not until Charlotte reached down clumsily, her hand weakly tapping at Sutton’s still moving between her thighs.

Her own desperation clawed through her even as Charlotte flopped down, seemingly boneless, onto her stomach.

Sutton stared at her, momentarily in a haze as she felt herself dripping down her thighs. Charlotte was breathing heavily, her hands curled into loose fists against Sutton’s sheets, and her body was utterly melted into the mattress from being so sated.

And Sutton needed all over again.

She reached down, urging Charlotte onto her back. Charlotte moved with her willingly, settling against one of Sutton’s pillows as her chest heaved, and she looked so utterly fucked, that Sutton felt her clit pulse even harder. She did that to Charlotte.

She did that, and she knew—she just knew— that even in the lovers Charlotte had surely taken since, she’d never let any of them have her in this way.

Sutton tossed her leg over Charlotte’s hips, settling above her as that thought nearly pushed her to the edge in and of itself. But she didn’t want to come without Charlotte’s touch, even if she could. That wasn’t what this was about .

She wasn’t even sure what it necessarily was about, but she knew it wasn’t that.

“Touch me,” she very nearly begged, her voice reedy. She rocked against Charlotte’s hips, knowing Charlotte could feel how wet she was for her. She rubbed herself against Charlotte, so wet she could hardly find any traction, and still it felt so… “Charlotte, I’m–”

Charlotte, brown hair tousled and messy, lips swollen from Sutton’s mouth, her entire expression dazed, looked up at her from where she lay and snapped to attention the second Sutton spoke.

As if her words, her need, lit something in Charlotte, her expression lit up, and she reached down, sliding her hand between Sutton’s legs. She lifted her hips just enough to let Charlotte touch her before grinding back down.

The firm, steady touch on her clit was fucking heaven , and she grinded down into it with great need. She didn’t care that she was soaking Charlotte’s entire hand, dripping down against her hip.

She couldn’t care less about the gasping, desperate groans escaping the back of her throat as she threw her head back.

She just—she was so— “God, I’m so close,” she moaned out. “I’m… I?—”

Fuck . Her world drew into central focus, her nerve endings alight, and she wanted to come so badly , she thought as she rode Charlotte’s hand even harder. She was so close, so?—

“You feel so fucking good.” Charlotte’s voice, so throaty after moaning and chanting Sutton’s name, forced her to open her eyes and stare down at Charlotte as she moved against her. “Darling, I?—”

Sutton’s orgasm hit her like a freight train at the word darling , hurtling through her body as her nerve endings lit up. She gasped, then groaned, jerking down against Charlotte’s fingers harder, needing to ride out every single sensation pushing through her body.

She rode through her orgasm, pushing through any aftershocks even as her body jerked with them, so ridiculously sensitive. But she wanted every moment of this.

Finally, when she felt totally wrung out, she slid to her side, collapsing next to Charlotte on her bed.

The quiet in the room was only disrupted by their heavy breathing; the blood rushing in Sutton’s ears moved from static at first to quiet background noise after a minute as she stared up at the ceiling.

And even though she didn’t know exactly what this meant or what they were doing , she couldn’t deny that she liked the feeling of this. Of Charlotte’s body warm and soft next to hers during the comedown, as the night settled around them.

This wouldn’t be like the last time they had done this, she knew that instinctively, and it also wouldn’t be the last time they did it. She didn’t know what it was , she thought again, as she turned her head to look at Charlotte, who was already gazing at her in the room’s low lamplight.

But she knew that.

“That’s not what I invited you here for today.” The words left her, unplanned but honest. Her brain was not firing at full capacity, in fairness to herself.

Charlotte’s smile was slow and beautifully crooked. “I didn’t assume so.” She paused, before saying softly, “I’m… thankful for it, though.”

There was an honesty there, but also that stupidly charming, joking voice, and Sutton could only laugh at it.