Page 18

Sutton returned Charlotte’s kiss, hungrily.

She matched her beat for beat, her hands feeling greedy with the need as she tugged Charlotte up against her. Reaching down, she slid her hands over Charlotte’s sweatshirt-covered waist, down over her hips, itching already to touch the warm, soft skin underneath.

It was her sweatshirt, she vaguely registered, even as she knew it burned the fire inside of her even hotter. Charlotte was in her clothing, looking as sexy as she always did—devastatingly so—but also Christmassy and cute and she looked like… Sutton’s.

Charlotte groaned in the back of her throat, a sound so guttural that it resonated through Sutton’s entire body, as Sutton’s hands slid under her shirt and splayed over Charlotte’s waist.

She flexed her hands there, digging in just the right amount, the amount she knew Charlotte liked, and was rewarded with a keening sound.

Charlotte seemed to know exactly what Sutton wanted—then again, when they were like this, when didn’t she?—as she pushed herself up from where she’d been nestled against Sutton on the couch and straddled her, all without breaking their kiss.

Charlotte’s hands landed on her shoulders, finding her balance as she rocked her hips against Sutton.

It was heady. So powerful. This want , which came from the pulse-pounding need she always seemed to have inside of her for Charlotte. It was never-ending, Sutton had learned over the last few weeks.

But she could feel it tonight, in this kiss, in this moment. That want was not only undeniably present, lacing through her veins, but it was magnified.

She felt it in every movement, every action. She felt it as she mapped out Charlotte’s back, then up her sides, thumbing over her nipples. She felt it in the way Charlotte arched her back against her. She felt it as Charlotte panted into her mouth, the way she slid her full lips over Sutton’s like, even in the moments where she needed to take a breath, she wanted to share the very air they were breathing.

It was that needy, hungry feeling that she had whenever she kissed Charlotte, whenever she touched her, but it was something more . Something stronger. Somehow, it was all stronger, which seemed unfathomable to Sutton, because she’d already been insatiable when it came to Charlotte Thompson.

Charlotte’s hands dug into her shoulders then, and Sutton could feel her reluctance as she pushed herself back, truly breaking their kiss.

She still stayed there, though, her thighs bracketing Sutton’s and keeping them locked against each other. Sutton’s hands stayed where they were, dipped just under Charlotte’s borrowed pajama pants so she could run her fingers over Charlotte’s full hips.

Sutton panted up at Charlotte, her lips still tingling as Charlotte looked down at her.

The only lighting came from the television and the colored lights of the Christmas tree, casting Charlotte in a seemingly mystical glow. It was captivating, if Sutton was being entirely honest, and she swallowed hard, searching Charlotte’s eyes with her own. Questioning. Because there hadn’t been a single time they’d started to have sex that Charlotte had stopped them or hadn’t wanted it.

And Sutton… she wanted so badly, she had no idea how Charlotte couldn’t be feeling the same way.

“Darling, I… I didn’t come here for this,” Charlotte whispered, holding Sutton’s gaze. Her voice was so throaty, it sent a shiver right down Sutton’s spine.

She loosened the tight hold she still had on Sutton’s shirt, smoothing her hand over Sutton’s neck in a touch that was comforting and sweet and still made Sutton shiver, especially as Charlotte stroked her thumb over the hollow of her throat.

“Do you not want t—” Sutton couldn’t even finish asking the question before Charlotte cut her off with a choked laugh.

“No. I want to,” she assured her without a second of hesitation. She gently—so gently—stroked her thumb over Sutton’s neck again. Sutton shivered again, but it had nothing to do with heat or wanting or anything sexual. Especially not as Charlotte elaborated, “But I don’t want you to think that every time we see one another—especially if it’s not related to the book—that we have to have sex or that I’m expecting it. I came here tonight just to be with you. To make sure you were okay. To make sure you didn’t feel lonely, especially on Christmas Eve.”

There was such a genuine sweetness to Charlotte’s voice. It was something Sutton didn’t hear very often, but she tried to never linger on it when she did. She’d heard it in Charlotte’s voice, years ago, and after Charlotte had ended things between them, it had haunted Sutton.

As she sat there in her living room on Christmas Eve, thirteen years later, she couldn’t help but let the tone and the words delivered with it linger. To settle inside of her, even though she knew it was a bad idea.

Charlotte was perfect and, technically, correct as she insisted that they didn’t have to have sex every time they saw one another.

Her heart stuttered in her chest as she nodded. “I know. I know we don’t have to have sex.”

Maybe that, in and of itself, was a big part of the danger.

She knew Charlotte hadn’t come here just looking for or wanting sex. She knew Charlotte had come here with the kindest and most caring of intentions, ones Charlotte seemed to have for Sutton, frequently and sometimes singularly.

Everything would be so much easier, really, if Charlotte had come here only for physical intimacy.

For the last six weeks, they had been very physical. Sutton kept it that way; it made sense that way. She always wanted Charlotte, and she knew Charlotte wanted her. Between them, sex was the most uncomplicated part of their relationship.

Not to mention it was the best sex Sutton had had, and a part of her felt like she needed to get her fill, to sate herself, before it was over.

Sex made sense .

The little, sweet human moments filtered in, but Sutton did her best to accept them for what they were.

Right here, right now, Sutton could admit that this intimacy felt different than it typically did. It felt, already, truly intimate.

Right now, right here, Sutton didn’t have a single defense to hold up against Charlotte, even if it was a bad idea to have sex when she felt so… much .

This entire night so far, it had been so, so dangerous for her to be around Charlotte.

But she couldn’t stop it. She…

Charlotte mirrored her nod, the smallest yet most meaningful of smiles teasing at her lips. It was as if her knowledge that Sutton knew her true intentions regarding being here mattered so very much. “Good,” she whispered.

Dangerous .

The word floated through Sutton’s mind, just as much of a whisper as Charlotte’s.

And while she knew it, she couldn’t listen to it. Not right now.

Maybe it was because of this moment . Of the way they were wrapped together in the soft glow of the room, and it was Christmas Eve. Of how a part of Sutton always longed for home, for her family, tonight, and with Charlotte here with her, she… hadn’t.

Maybe it was because of exactly what Charlotte had just said. Charlotte had come to her tonight, seeking her out, unasked for and entirely unexpected, for the sole purpose of being there for Sutton on her first Christmas as a parent that she wouldn’t have Lucy. Charlotte had known how deeply Sutton would be feeling that loneliness, and Charlotte didn’t want Sutton to feel that loneliness.

Maybe it was because of the way Charlotte had just shared such an honest look at her childhood. Because, as Charlotte explained what it was like during Christmas in her youth, Sutton had ached for the young girl Charlotte had once been, lonely and forgotten on the holidays. That ache had remained for the woman who’d had to harden herself against that feeling.

She was able to see with such a complete vision now— finally— why Charlotte was the person she’d become as an adult.

She’d always had a scope, back then and now, a view most people in the world would never have, into the psyche of Charlotte Thompson. She knew that; she’d always known that she knew Charlotte in ways Charlotte didn’t offer to many others. But tonight, she felt like she’d cracked open something so rare.

A true vulnerability. The truth of what had shaped Charlotte, even if Charlotte herself didn’t quite know it.

It was probably an insanely powerful combination of all of those things that made her lower the guard she vigilantly kept up with Charlotte. It was all of those things that made another bigger part of her mind hush that warning of danger.

Just this once. Just this once , let the softer side of her, the side of Sutton that hadn’t existed the same way in so long, take over. To let her feel.

She leaned up, angling her chin, wanting…

And Charlotte met her halfway, connecting their lips once again.

It was the combination of all of those things, she dimly thought, that fanned the flames inside her to burn even hotter tonight. That was what it was.

The flames that, for once, didn’t feel like they were burning Sutton from the inside out. Not in this moment, as Charlotte sighed against her, sliding her tongue along Sutton’s, lighting her up.

No, the flames didn’t burn as Charlotte carded her hands through Sutton’s hair, tugging gently, as she rocked her hips against Sutton once more.

They smoldered.

Her hands gentled, no less wanting, though they wanted to savor the touch and feel of Charlotte’s body.

She slid her hands down, gripping Charlotte’s waist, molding her hands to their curves as Charlotte’s hands cupped her jaw.

Charlotte’s kiss gentled with Sutton’s.

Beat for beat.

Sutton brought her hands up, sliding Charlotte’s—Sutton’s—shirt up as she went. She wanted to feel Charlotte’s body, her bare skin. It mattered to her, right now, and she wouldn’t—couldn’t—think too sharply about that in this moment.

Charlotte lifted her arms for Sutton, then reached back and had taken off her bra in seconds.

Sutton brought her hands up, cupping Charlotte’s breasts, mesmerized by how insanely hard her nipples already were for her. She moved her thumbs over them, circling, as Charlotte swore, then ducked her head down again, kissing Sutton deeply.

She slid her tongue into Sutton’s mouth, along Sutton’s own, and it felt so, so perfect. Like she could taste every sigh.

And Sutton was just as breathless, just as wanting as she’d been before. As she was every other time, even though this felt so different .

Charlotte breathed out little moans into Sutton’s mouth as Sutton slid one of her hands down, dipping into her pants again, drawing it over Charlotte’s thigh, and sliding it between her legs.

They both whimpered, their kiss slowing to the point that their mouths were simply pressed against one another’s. Breathing the same air, as Sutton rubbed her fingers over the sheer, expensive lace of Charlotte’s underwear.

She was so wet, Sutton’s fingers were soaked from rubbing her through the fabric.

And she needed to touch her. She needed to feel Charlotte, to be as close to her as she possibly could.

That same slow, smoldering need didn’t have Sutton hastily tugging aside Charlotte’s underwear the way she typically would when they did this. Instead, she teased her.

Sliding the tips of her fingers underneath the fabric, she drew them over Charlotte’s hot center, groaning from the back of her throat at how she felt.

“Yes. Darling, inside. I want you inside of me,” Charlotte spoke, a desperation lining her words, her lips sliding over Sutton’s in the most tantalizing, sensual movements that sent shivers all over Sutton’s body.

“You want me inside of you?” Sutton whispered, angling her head up now. Just enough to be able to look at Charlotte in the dim, intimate lighting of the Christmas tree.

She traced her fingers over Charlotte, just feeling her. How hot she was. How swollen. How soaked. How her hips jerked and her thighs shook.

She could hear the unstoppable little moans that escaped the back of her throat as Sutton rubbed her clit.

“How badly?” Sutton asked, staring right into Charlotte’s eyes as she circled her clit harder, not faster. Not even as Charlotte started trying to move with her.

Charlotte’s hands clawed into Sutton’s hair, tugging, as her mouth fell open, panting at Sutton’s touch.

God, her clit was so hard . Sutton panted with it, too, but she didn’t move yet.

She wanted to hear it.

She wouldn’t move fast enough for Charlotte to come like this. Sutton knew what she needed, and that thought alone sent the most insanely energizing jolt through her body. She knew that Charlotte needed her to touch her clit hard and fast for her to come apart.

But she didn’t want Charlotte to come yet, she thought as she stared up at Charlotte, her heart hammering.

Sutton was so wet herself; she ached and squeezed her thighs together with it. She knew she would likely come as soon as Charlotte really started to fuck her later. She knew it would be so simple.

But she didn’t care about that right now either.

All she cared about was this.

Was Charlotte.

The way she stared down at Sutton, eyes so dark. So needy.

“You have no fucking idea how badly I want you, Sutton.” Charlotte scratched her nails against the back of Sutton’s neck as she spoke.

Both the sensation and the words had Sutton gasping, and it was enough. It was more than enough for her to give them what they both wanted.

She slid her hand down, pressing two fingers into Charlotte.

They slid in so easily, fitting so perfectly. Like she belonged there.

She did , she thought wildly. Uncontrollably.

“God,” Charlotte grit out, the little moans from the back of her throat resuming as Sutton started sliding her fingers in and out.

Deeply, firmly, but not quickly. No.

She wanted to feel everything. Every movement, every quiver, every time Charlotte tightened around her.

Those sounds that Sutton didn’t think Charlotte knew she made.

She had a hunger inside of her, something she wondered if it could ever be sated, sparked by Charlotte’s words. By Charlotte sharing herself and being vulnerable with Sutton.

It consumed her, the embers only growing hotter and hotter with every sigh that left Charlotte’s mouth. Every trembling moan. Every hitch of her breath. Every time she jerked her hips down, thoughtlessly and shamelessly demanding more.

Sutton took in everything, feeling it rock through her body. Through every part of her.

When Charlotte’s thighs quaked around her wrist and her nails dug hard into Sutton’s shoulders and the sounds she made became even louder, even more choked off, Sutton knew she was close. So close.

Her heart pounded with the need for it, too. She needed Charlotte to unravel completely, all around her.

And still, she stopped moving. She hadn’t planned on it, but—she—she needed. She swallowed, and her throat was so dry, and she could only stare up at Charlotte, and she didn’t know what she needed, but she knew she wasn’t ready for this to end.

Charlotte’s chest heaved as she strained against Sutton, mesmerizing her as her breasts swayed with each breath. Yes , Sutton dimly registered. She needed more .

She kept her fingers stilled inside of Charlotte, curled deeply against her, feeling her drip around her fingers. Feeling Charlotte clench, desperately. Feeling Charlotte shake from how close she was to coming.

Sutton slid her other hand down and settled it on Charlotte’s hip, gripping, keeping her as still as possible. The wanton, uncontrollable rocking Charlotte could manage as Sutton held her still did nothing, she knew. Nothing that Charlotte needed .

The knowledge of that worked through Sutton, viscerally. The power.

She stayed perfectly still as she realized that was what made the throbbing between her own legs nearly unbearable right now. That was what had made her pause.

That she needed, in this moment, to soak in every second of this. Every single second that she was what Charlotte needed. Who Charlotte needed.

Whimpers snuck out of Charlotte’s throat as she finally blinked her eyes open, bleary and demanding and wanting and confused, locking them onto Sutton’s.

“Good,” she whispered, the feeling of the word like gravel in her throat after so many minutes of groans and panting for breath.

“Su… Su-tton,” Charlotte grit out, attempting to move her hips again.

Sutton tightened her hand against the motion, making Charlotte moan, the sound so guttural. It was feral, almost, as her fingernails dug in harder against Sutton’s shoulders, and she could feel Charlotte clench around her again.

Fuck .

God, she wanted it. She wanted to see and hear and feel Charlotte come for her.

Still, she didn’t move. Didn’t let herself.

The confusion that clouded Charlotte’s gaze became even more pronounced. She took in a deep breath through gritted teeth, like she was trying to focus on Sutton. Like she was trying to get more clarity on the situation.

But Sutton didn’t want more clarity.

Honestly, she wasn’t sure she could think super clearly right now. All she knew was that she wanted Charlotte entirely mindless for her. Open and vulnerable and giving and only for Sutton.

All for Sutton.

In all of the ways she’d dreamed about, fantasized about, and then locked away.

She flexed her fingers, the three she had inside of Charlotte, curling them inside of her.

The clarity that Charlotte had clearly been trying to grasp dissipated, and a vicious, intense sense of satisfaction slid through Sutton.

“ God ,” Charlotte keened, throwing her head back. “Please. S-ut—just— please .”

Sutton slid her fingers out, then thrusted again. Once more, she made sure her palm rubbed against Charlotte’s clit with every movement. Then again, as Charlotte scrambled to find a new purchase against Sutton’s shoulders.

With every sound Charlotte made, an echo of Sutton’s name sounded. Her eyes snapped open as Sutton felt her tightening around her fingers, locking onto Sutton’s gaze and holding there.

And she came.

Around Sutton’s fingers, with Sutton’s name on her lips, her nails leaving marks on Sutton’s shoulders as she still wore Sutton’s clothing.

She came for Sutton .

Charlotte was still panting as she started to come down, as she finally seemed to come back to herself. She stared, eyes dark and wanting, at Sutton.

And Sutton, her heart in her throat, couldn’t look away.

Charlotte crashed her lips into Sutton’s then, lips and teeth and tongue demanding, as she reached down and clutched at Sutton’s wrist. She lifted her hips and pulled Sutton’s hand out from between her thighs as she nipped at Sutton’s bottom lip, then sucked it between her teeth.

Sutton’s breath was already ragged, unable to keep her own hips steady because she wanted so badly. She wanted Charlotte inside of her. She wanted Charlotte’s mouth on her. She wanted Charlotte .

She whimpered as Charlotte released her bottom lip, then brought Sutton’s hand up to her mouth. Sutton let herself be maneuvered, anticipation spiking through her, desperate for Charlotte’s every move.

As Charlotte brought Sutton’s wet fingers to her lips, the nerve endings in Sutton’s fingertips seemed to explode as Charlotte moved them over her full lips.

She couldn’t even make sense of the sounds escaping her own throat, especially not as Charlotte then sucked Sutton’s fingers into her mouth.

“God,” she hissed out, biting off a whimper as her fingers were encased by the warmth of Charlotte’s mouth.

She felt Charlotte drag her tongue over her fingers, and she shuddered with it. She felt Charlotte’s lips wrap around her as she started sliding Sutton’s fingers out of her mouth, and she throbbed .

Charlotte knew it, too. Sutton knew she did, even before she quirked an eyebrow and leaned in to Sutton’s ear as she murmured, “Darling, I’m going to make you come so hard, you won’t be getting back up tonight. Do you want it here or in your bed?”

Fuck.

Sutton knew without a single doubt, as those words pulsed through her body, that Charlotte wasn’t being hyperbolic. “Bed.”

Sutton woke without an alarm at eight, rather than being hopped on or shaken awake or alerted by excited squeals about Santa before six, which was how her Christmas mornings had been spent for the last several years. Ever since Lucy could walk and talk and escape her own bed.

And though that thought sent a spike of longing and sadness through her… she’d turned her head on her pillow to look at Charlotte lying next to her.

Still sleeping, soundly.

She’d always woken before Charlotte had. It was something she’d found so amusing, so endearing years ago. That Charlotte was such a go-getter, had every day planned, was always ready for whatever her day might bring but that she, instinctively, always slept heavier and for longer than Sutton did.

Sutton used to wake up before Charlotte; then—in the beginning, especially—she would leave before Charlotte woke or when she was just waking up.

But she always took a few moments to look at her.

Something about the sight of Charlotte sleeping had felt so sweet to Sutton.

It still did, she thought, and she was unable to control the way that feeling spiralled through her, melting through her veins before settling warmly in her chest.

Charlotte’s head was turned toward Sutton, her body curled up in the direction of Sutton’s, her arm thrown out over Sutton’s waist. When Charlotte was asleep, she sought out and initiated closeness.

It was so endearing.

Her wavy hair was tousled, and her cheeks were rosy, and her pouty lips were open the slightest bit, and Sutton couldn’t control the soft sigh that escaped her as her heart flip-flopped in her chest.

It was easier to keep up her emotional guards with Charlotte; she knew that.

And yet… she traced her fingers lightly over the arm thrown over her waist, revelling in Charlotte’s soft skin.

She was grateful when her phone buzzed repeatedly on her bedside table, keeping her grounded in reality as much as was possible in this moment.

Turning on her side, Charlotte’s arm still over her waist, she checked the messages she’d gotten that morning.

Mom—7:02 a.m.

Good morning, honey, and merry Christmas.

I know it’s hard right now without Lucy with you, but you will have her and all of us with you soon. I can’t wait to see you! I’d have called, but I sincerely hope that you are able to sleep in.

Also, your father says Merry Christmas and that he is excited to talk to you later tonight.

We love you

Little did her mother know that Sutton was grappling with far more this morning than not having Lucy. And her mother would never know because Sutton knew very well that her mom did not approve of what she was doing with Charlotte.

She had no idea they were sleeping together, but she wasn’t pleased with Charlotte being Sutton’s friend. At all.

Her mother had her best interests at heart, but, Sutton reminded herself as she typed out a reciprocal holiday message, she had this all well in hand.

She was enjoying herself with Charlotte. They were both having a good time. They had, as evidenced by the previous night, incredible sex. They treated each other fairly. They respected one another. They were—this time around—on the same page about what they were expecting from the other.

Charlotte hummed in her sleep as Sutton was halfway through her text response, her fingers stroking absentmindedly at Sutton’s hip, and she shivered at it, squeezing her eyes closed before she made herself stay focused.

She then scrolled through the other similar messages from her siblings, then to Regan’s.

Regan—7:55 a.m.

Ho ho ho, Sutton Spencer!

Don’t mistake me for being Santa. I’m calling you a ho ho ho, with your sexcapades with a certain senator

And don’t mistake my calling you a ho ho ho for me being anything less than encouraging

Anyway, Emma wanted me to remind you that “dinner” will be ready by 1. I wanted to remind you that you should come over even earlier so I can give you some presents and shower you in holiday affection—do not try to get out of it, I will not let you have a lonely Christmas

Sutton couldn’t help but laugh, rolling her eyes affectionately. She nearly typed back if you think I’m already a ho ho ho, wait until you hear what happened last night but refrained from doing so; she’d tell Regan all of the details later.

Sutton—8:07 a.m.

I will be over before dinner

She rolled her lips, unable to dispel the warm feeling she’d woken up with. Unable to totally shake the feeling that lodged inside of her last night. Unable to stop herself from adding into the message for Regan?—

Sutton—8:08 a.m.

And I’m not having a lonely Christmas morning… Charlotte’s here.

She laughed as she saw Regan immediately start writing a response, but she left the text thread anyway. Regan could live with a little bit of anticipation.

She opened Layla’s message thread then, more than excited to see the videos of Lucy on Christmas morning even though the feeling of it all happening without her was bittersweet.

Before she watched the videos Layla had sent to her, though, she set her jaw at the last message Layla had sent her this morning.

Layla—6:49 a.m.

For the record, we will be discussing your apparent “relationship” with Senator Thompson when you pick up Lucy tomorrow.

That conversation is not over, Sutton

Aggravation and exasperation rolled through her. The message was very in line with the short conversation she and Layla had had the previous night, before she’d left, when Layla had stormed into the kitchen, just out of earshot of Lucy and Charlotte, and Sutton had followed her, feeling a combination of trepidation and annoyance.