Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
CHARLOTTE
He says it so casually, like we’re just talking about the weather. Like he’s offering to hold the door open or to carry my bags to the car.
A hot flush creeps up my body. It makes me feel too warm, too under scrutiny. I look down at my hands. At the tiny bottle of alcohol, and wonder if I’m brave enough to do this. “And how would you do it?”
“Help you come?” he asks in that casual, deep voice again. “Depends on your preference. Maybe with my face between your thighs. Or I could sit us down in front of the large mirror over there—you in my lap, your legs spread. And I’d touch you while we both watch, and you tell me what feels good.”
My breath hitches. “Do you usually go around… offering this service to women?”
Aiden runs a hand along his jaw. I see the hint of a smile behind it. “No,” he says. “You’re a pretty big exception.”
My legs are locked tight together, and despite wearing almost nothing, I feel warm. Very warm.
“Okay,” I breathe. “But… you first.”
His eyes light up, and he reaches for the cards. Shuffles them all together.
“We’re going to play a very simple game,” he says and turns up a single card. It’s a seven. “Higher or lower, Chaos.”
“What do I get if I’m right?”
“You get to ask me to do something. I have the right to refuse. But it’s… a good start.”
“Higher.”
He flips, and the next card is a four of spades. I draw in a breath. Shit.
Aiden taps his knuckles against the lowly four. “Oh, damn. That doesn’t bode well.”
I can barely breathe. “Why?”
“I’m afraid that bra of yours, it’s going to have to come off.” His eyes rest on mine, and while there’s demand there, there is also a playfulness. “If you want. Anything and everything with me is always on your terms, Charlotte.”
Right there is when I know I’ll go through with this. Wherever this night takes me.
I reach for the clasp and undo it. Slowly, I let the straps fall down my arms, and the cups drop away.
His hands tighten around the cards, and for a long moment, he is still as a statue. He looks, though. And I’ve never been so looked at in my life.
Sitting in an armchair, late at night, in a hotel room, in nothing but my panties.
I lean forward and reach for the deck of cards. His eyes track the movement, and there’s an audible sound when he swallows. “Fuck, you’re pretty,” he says.
I take the cards out of his unresponsive hands. “Your turn.” I flip up an eight, but he’s still watching me. “Aiden,” I tell him.
He looks down at the card and clears his throat. “Lower.”
I turn up the next one, and it’s a queen of hearts.
He’s lost. I tap my finger against the card. “I want you to take your pants off.”
He shakes his head a little, but there’s no hesitation in his movements. He stands and undoes the button and the zipper on his pants, and pulls them down. Steps out of them, and then folds them over the back of the armchair, like he’s not standing there in just his black boxer briefs.
There’s a thick outline through the fabric that I can’t look away from. The room isn’t warm. But it suddenly feels blazing hot, and I reach for my wine.
As if it will cool me down.
Aiden sits back down on his chair, arms draped along the armrests. Legs spread and his body on full display. “Your turn.”
“What do you want this time? If I lose?”
He shuffles the cards a little and then lets his hand hover over the top card. “I want to see the vibrator.”
The air feels thick, and I look down at his hand, fingers curled around the edges of the deck.
“All right.” I lean forward and revel in the way his gaze drops down to my bare chest. “Turn the card.”
It’s a three. I look at it for a long moment and then shrug lightly. “Lower.”
He chuckles. “I see how it is.”
He flips the card, and it’s an eight. Naturally.
“What a shame,” I say and rise from my seat. I can sense him watching me as I walk to my suitcase, and I feel like someone else, someone I rarely am. Nighttime Charlotte, who drinks wine and indulges in handsome men, and who travels from city to city. Who has no insecurities, no hang-ups. Who knows what she wants and takes what she deserves.
“Damn,” he mutters behind me.
I smile and rummage through my bag. The vibrator is in its usual silk bag, and I turn to find Aiden watching me.
“Catch.”
He does, easily, and pulls out the thick black vibrator. “Ah,” he says. “Interesting.”
“It’s watertight, so I could have used that instead of the showerhead.” I don’t return to my spot on the sofa. I sit down on the bed instead and lean back with my hands on the comforter.
Aiden turns the vibrator over in his hands. “It’s a good size, I think.”
“Are you an expert?”
“Mm-hmm. Of some things.” He looks from the vibrator to me. “How do you usually use it?”
A thread of nerves slithers through me. I don’t usually talk about this sort of thing with guys I sleep with. It’s never this drawn out, foreplay rarely consists of conversations like this.
“On my clit.”
He lifts an eyebrow, and the look he gives me is so full of heat that I have to swallow. “I see.” He reaches for the cards and flips up a jack. “I want to kiss you, Chaos. Higher or lower?”
“Lower,” I whisper.
It’s a queen. “Damn,” he says and rises from the chair. He feels big, standing when I’m seated, and another thread of nerves punches through me.
His hand brushes my cheek, coming to cup my face. His skin is warm and just a bit rough, and my eyes flutter closed. He waits another delicious moment and then he presses his lips to mine.
Shivers race through me at the faint touch. His lips are warm and taste like whiskey at first, and then just him.
I reach for him and rest my hands against his chest. His bare chest. Warm, firm skin against my fingers. I slide my hand up over his broad shoulders.
He groans against my mouth and then deepens the kiss. His free hand finds my own exposed skin, curving over my waist, and he kisses me like he could do it all night. Like it’s his favorite thing.
I’ve never been kissed like this before.
Heat floods through me with every touch of his lips. Makes me feel lightheaded and loose-limbed.
“Chaos,” he murmurs, and his mouth moves down my cheek. To my neck.
I use my newfound freedom to breathe in deep. His hair tickles my skin, and his lips brush the sensitive skin at the hollow of my throat.
He kisses down my body. His lips close around a nipple, and there’s a punch of hot pleasure through me. It races downward, setting off a throbbing.
He runs a hand down my thigh, and then up the inside. Tremors roll over my skin at the light pressure of his fingers. And then, without missing a beat, his touch ghosts between my legs.
My breath hitches. I didn’t realize I was this sensitive, but hours of playing, of undressing, of anticipation have set me off.
And I didn’t come earlier.
I’m still in my panties. But he caresses through the fabric with casual, careful strokes. “So rude of me,” he mutters, kissing across my breastbone, “to have interrupted you earlier.”