She isn’t your girlfriend.
I take another swig of the champagne, clearing my thoughts. She’s fucking with my head. She's the apple the Evil Queen tempted Snow with.
And fuck do I want to take a bite.
The guy steps past us, getting into the lift.
“Bye, puppy,” Charlotte sings, before dragging me down the hall.
I tug on her arm, pulling her in the other direction. “It’s this way.”
We come to a stop when we hear Eloise behind us. “Andrew? Did you come to see me?”
“Oh, sugar,” Charlotte whispers. “She totally wants you.”
“It’s not mutual,” I whisper back, before leaning down. “Run!”
“Andrew? Andrew?”
She squeals as I tug her arm, pulling her in the direction of our room. I read the numbers on the door as we head past them.
We nearly topple over when we reach our door. Checking down the hall, I can’t see Eloise, but I can hear her calling my name.
“Quick,” I demand, as Charlotte shoves the key card into the slot. We both push inside, breathing heavily as we slam the door behind us. I place the bottle on the side before sliding my back down the door, Charlotte doing the same next to me, giggling.
“That was close,” she heaves out before bursting into laughter.
“Drew?”
My eyes widen as I gently slap my hand over Charlotte’s mouth. She struggles to keep her laughter in and my lips twitch. She has a beautiful laugh. It comes from the soul.
“Hey, do you know what room Drew is staying in?” Eloise says from somewhere outside the door. “He was here but now he’s gone. I tried the front desk already and they can’t share the information. But he was definitely here and he was with her.”
Her voice trails off and I begin to relax, until Charlotte falls against me, laughing uproariously. “Oh god, your face.”
“It’s not funny,” I lightly scold.
She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. “Maybe she doesn’t have a room? I mean, we could offer her the floor.”
I slide away the hair that has slipped free. “As kind as your offer is, I’m not kind. That skank is coming nowhere near our bed.”
She giggles once again, getting closer. “Did you see her face?”
No, because right now, all I see is her. Fuck, she’s radiant when she smiles.
And I can’t pull my gaze away. There’s a light in her eyes that hasn’t been this bright before. It’s the same spark Landon spoke about when he mentioned how worried he was for her.
I can understand why people gravitate toward her, why she has stripper friends who are nuts.
Her lips part as our gazes lock, and for a moment, neither of us look away, not until her gaze drops to my lips. I’m not sure who moves first, me or her, but both of us lean in.
Tension chokes the air and I feel my groin tightening at the heated look she’s giving me. A tiny puff of air slips past her lips as she leans up. I try to calm my rapid heart, to be rational and list off the reasons for why this isn’t a good idea.
But I can’t.
Her big green eyes blink back at me as our noses touch. It’s like she’s waiting for an invitation, for permission.
Finally, her full, soft lips press against mine, and I fight the urge to pull her into my lap.
Fuck, she tastes as good as she smells.
Just as I’m about to reach for her and deepen the kiss, she pulls back, her eyes wide.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHARLOTTE
What am I thinking?
He has been so good to me and I basically pounced on him. But that kiss… That simple kiss. I press my fingers to my lips, still feeling him on me, still tasting him. They tingle with awareness, urging me to go back for more.
I’m not sure what came over me. I’d fought the urge to kiss him all night. It had been something building inside of me all night, something I had never felt before.
“Charlotte,” he rasps, his voice smooth like chocolate.
“I’m sorry, you probably didn’t want me slobbering all over you,” I admit sheepishly.
I close my eyes at the feel of his palm cupping my cheek. His fingers are calloused, rough in places, but they feel good. His touch feels good.
Maybe he liked the kiss.
My lids flutter open and I stare up at him, badly wanting to kiss him again. “That was a good kiss.”
He leans down, and my heart rate accelerates. “It was a good kiss.”
Does he want to do it again?
“Can we do it again?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls me closer, capturing my lips with his. I grip his shirt, my fingers tightening in the material. Our breaths mingle together as he deepens the kiss, his taste driving me wild.
I rise to my knees before turning to straddle his thighs. His back thuds against the door as he leans back, sliding his hands up my thighs and under my dress. I shiver as he grips my hips, pulling me closer until I can feel how hard he is beneath me.
Why aren’t I freaking out?
Why does it feel this good?
I rock back and forth, an electric sensation running through my core. Our gazes never break, too enthralled with the moment, with each other.
It feels so good, like every fibre of my being feels it too.
It makes me feel like a bigger fool. I fooled myself into thinking what Scott and I had was good, that in time, other things would fall into place. However, it had never been like this. This is on another level, one where I’m not kidding myself it means more than it does. Actions truly do mean more than words.
I want to feel this forever. The rush of it all, the desire I feel coursing through my system.
Oh my God, I’m a slut.
He pulls back when I try to kiss him again, glancing away. A sharp stabbing pain hammers in my chest. “W-what? Did I do something wrong?”
“We’re both drunk. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
My brows pull together. “I don’t think that’s actually a factor in why we can’t kiss. People do it all the time. It’s not against the law. Its—”
He chuckles, pressing his lips to mine to keep me quiet. “No, but I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“I really want you to,” I blurt out, before closing my eyes and groaning. “That didn’t come out right.”
“I hate to bring it up, especially right now,” he tells me, sounding in pain. “But you’ve been through a lot. I don’t want to add to it.”
“It never felt this way,” I whisper. “This feels right. It feels good. My vagina seems happy. Really happy.”
He groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “You’re killing me.”
My brows snap together. “I most certainly am not,” I tell him. “Does it not feel good for you?”
“Charlotte, I’ve been dying to rip this pretty little dress off you all night, but I know I can’t.”
“Then I’ll take it off,” I tell him, getting up off the floor. He follows as I flick my heels off, at the same time reaching for the zip at the back of my dress.
He sees where my hand goes and steps forward. “Charlotte, no.”