Chapter 44
CHAPTER 44
AIDEN
I arrive later than planned at Mandy’s party. The entire day had been spent with Eric and my COO Cynthia, working through the press strategy to combat the tax investigation.
“Make sure the biographer includes these baseless allegations in the book,” Cynthia had told me, hunched over her laptop during a quick lunch. “Make it a part of the narrative, like the bloodthirsty jerks just won’t stop taking potshots at us.”
It’s a good idea.
More and more, I’m starting to realize that letting this memoir be published might actually be… beneficial.
Painful. But advantageous.
Mandy’s company has rented a large mansion high up in the Hills for the launch event. It’s all square angles and white plaster walls, like one out of a dozen. The driver drops me off at the gate and disappears down the narrow, curved road. As I approach the building, I hear the music drifting from the inside.
Charlotte will already be there. I texted her earlier, and she said that she’d take a rideshare here.
Security is on either side of the entrance. I give my name, and I’m waved inside. After surrendering my phone.
I fucking hate having to part with it.
But it’s the whole vibe they are going for here: the security protocol, the secrecy. I’m forced to trust that adequate procedures are in place and that my phone won’t get stolen or broken into. Hacked and misused.
The venue smells thickly of incense and something else, like a heavy fragrance. I walk past a group of women sporting high heels, lingerie, and long wavy hair.
Mandy and her business partners have gone full-out.
I can only imagine what Charlotte will say about this place.
Entering the main living space, I spot a waiter in a floor-length silk robe, walking around with a tray of drinks. He’s paradoxically the most dressed person here.
Him and me both, because I’m still in my suit from work.
I recognize a slew of people. Some are from Mandy’s circle of friends, others are minor celebrities. One or two are fairly famous. Seems like all the stops have been pulled out for this party.
But nowhere is a five foot seven woman, with a lean body and long light-brown waves that fall past her shoulders. No blue eyes that sparkle with excitement.
I wander outside. Dulcet tones play from a DJ’s booth set up by the short side of the pool. Several people are in the water, their hair drenched. Giant inflatables decorate the pool. I flag down a waiter and grab a drink off the tray. It looks like a martini, and I drain half of it in one go.
That’s when I see her.
Standing on the other side of the pool, her back to me. Long legs stuck in a pair of strappy heels that look like the ones she’d gotten for the movie premiere.
Those endless legs are entirely bare. All the way up to the very tops of her thighs, where they’re kissed by the hem of a dress. If it can be called that. It’s more of a lingerie than anything—virtually sheer and hemmed in lace. It flares from her narrow waistline, creating an A shape from what looks like a bra with thin straps that hug her bare shoulders.
The only thing I can do is stare.
It’s Charlotte, but as a cream puff. A tantalizing sweet delicacy in black lace.
I move before I remember giving my legs the command. There’s a group of chatting guys in the way, and I push past them, barely registering the huff of annoyance.
Only when I make it past the crowd do I realize she’s chatting with someone. A man. I see his face clearly, and, fuck , it’s Logan Edwards. Like the other week. He had been too interested in her then, too.
I drain the other half of the martini. There are no ties between Charlotte and me, not officially. Those two fucking rules govern everything between us.
They’re good rules. Sane rules. Very pragmatic, utterly respectable, very useful. Relationships take time. They can cost you, too. Nothing hurts like being betrayed. I should know. So, very good rules. It was great of Charlotte to establish them.
Even if I want to break them every single time I see her.
I walk up to her side. Logan catches my gaze first, and he smiles widely.
“Hey, man. Figured you’d be here.”
I stand closer to Charlotte than a mere friend would and reach out to shake his hand. “Hey. Glad you made it. I know it means a lot to Mandy.”
He shrugs a little. “It’s a cool party. I got a goodie bag.” He holds up the purple silk bag, and his face reminds me of a kid in the candy store. It’s the sort of endearing, boyish look that has gotten him so far in movies. A flush is lingering on his cheeks, either from the alcohol or the thrill of being at the “no phones” party.
Things were different a few years ago. Now, the room changes when he walks into it. People on the street turn around. I know what that’s like, to a lesser degree, and would empathize with him on a normal evening. An evening where he isn’t chatting up Charlotte.
Again.
I look at Chaos, and then nearly black out.
Whatever top she’s wearing is practically see-through. Her nipples are hard, and they’re poking out through the thin, sheer fabric of her barely there dress.
She smiles at me. Freckles dot her nose, and the tops of her shoulders look a bit red. She’s gotten more sun.
“Hello, Aiden,” she says. She’s holding a goodie bag of her own and a half-finished glass of bubbly.
A dull pulse starts to throb at my temples. The desire to pull her close is so overwhelming that I have to fist my hand at my side.
Jealousy is not an emotion I’m familiar with.
I can’t remember the last time I felt it around anyone but Charlotte. It’s irrational. Like most emotions, it serves no purpose. But it’s damn impossible to evade.
“Logan was telling me?—”
Charlotte’s interrupted by a group of people joining us. Mandy’s business partner is among them, and she immediately puts a hand on Logan’s arm.
It’s a chance for an escape.
I wrap my arm around Charlotte’s waist. “We’ll be right back. Gotta top up her glass,” I tell everyone and steer Charlotte away from the pool.
“My glass is half-full,” she tells me. “Or are you a half-empty kind of guy?”
“Very funny.” I look around us, but no one is staring at her tits. “What are you wearing, Chaos?”
“Apparently, it’s part of the new launch,” she says. “Your sister gave me this babydoll dress.”
“It’s see-through.”
“I know. Isn’t it crazy?” She laughs. “But I’m wearing underwear.”
There’s a quiet alcove, further away from the action. I lead her toward it. “Your tits are out.”
“What tits?” she says and chuckles again. “I barely have any. It’s fine, Aiden.”
She pulls away and twirls slightly in front of me. The skirt splays out, rising high up. I see the swell of her ass cheeks and the matching thong she’s wearing underneath.
“Do you like it?”
There could be a raging wildfire behind me, and I wouldn’t be able to look away from her.
“Yes,” I say, “but I don’t like that everyone here can see so much of you.”
She laughs again. There’s an air about her—like she’s a little drunk, a little happy. It washes away the jealousy that has gripped me like a vise.
“It doesn’t bother me. There are no phones here. I love that rule.”
“Someone might break it.”
“Don’t be like that.” She pauses her spinning, and her hair falls back into the soft waves. A smile plays on her lips. “I feel like I’m playing another role. Nighttime Charlotte goes to sex parties, gets goodie bags, and talks to famous movie stars.”
She looks up at the sky above us. It’s dark, barely any stars are visible. But she smiles up at it like the entire Milky Way is on bright display just for her.
It wouldn’t surprise me if it was.
“I feel alive tonight, Aiden.”
“You look it. You look beautiful.”
She looks at me over her shoulder. The playfulness is still there, lurking in the corner of her smile. “No compliments, my dear sir.”
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Not much. Just some champagne.”
I sit down on the low settee across from where she’s swaying to the music the DJ is playing. Every song feels like an erotic remix of the originals. Deep bass, slowed-down beats.
“I’ve spoken to your sister a ton. And her friends.” She shakes her head, moving her hips from side to side. “I didn’t know she ran a sex toy company.”
“Technically, it’s a female sexual health and pleasure empowerment collective.”
“Right. Sorry.” She reaches into the goodie bag and digs around for a bit. Then she pulls out a silicon circle and rotates it a few times around her finger. “Like this. I think this is a… cock ring?”
“Put that away.”
She giggles again. It’s not a sound I’m used to hearing from Charlotte, and damn if it doesn’t run like an arrow through me. “Okay, fine. I guess you’re not interested in wearing it…”
“Not here, I’m not.” I thrust a hand through my hair. “It’s a pretty new venture. She’s always been curious to try, but it was in the past year that she... well. Decided to go for it.”
There’s something liberating about the demise of our family’s good name , my sister had told me. She had nothing left to prove. She could simply be Mandy Hartman and work in a business that designs sex toys.
“It’s inspiring. She’s such a character.”
“That she is.” I lean back on the sofa and just watch Charlotte. Arousal is simmering beneath my skin, just from the sight of her being this unbound.
We’re far enough away from the others that her transparent dress is for me and me alone. But the jealousy hasn’t gone away completely. It’s there, threatening to break out. I shrug out of my suit jacket and keep it ready to hand to Chaos if someone comes our way.
She sits down beside me on the settee. The tops of her shoulders are rosy. “You’ve been tanning today, as well,” I tell her.
“I went for a run today on the trails,” she says. “I like the sun out here.”
I stroke my thumb over the redness. “It doesn’t like you back.”
“Aiden,” she says. “Everyone here has a tan. You’re tanned as hell, even if you have an olive complexion. It’s not fair.”
“An olive complexion,” I repeat slowly. “What does that mean?”
She rolls her eyes. “Nevermind. I’ll wear more sunscreen tomorrow. Will that please you?”
I bend to press a kiss on her shoulder. “Your pale skin is beautiful. Don’t change it.”
Her breath catches at the brief contact. “So… your sister,” she says. “She said earlier that there are single women here she wants to introduce you to.”
I groan. “Ignore that.”
“Does she often play matchmaker?”
“No, and never successfully.”
“Because the important Titan CEO doesn’t have time to date.” Her hand lands on my shoulder, fingers curving over the muscle. It doesn’t seem like she realizes that she’s touching me. She’s drunk and happy. My chest expands, warmth flooding through it.
Fuck, this woman.
She’s going to end me.
“Not usually, no. Like you.”
“Like me,” she agrees. “But when you do… I’ve been thinking. There’s a bingo card in the goodie bag. I haven’t looked at it closely, yet. But it’s this list of positions.”
“You’re asking me about my sexual preferences,” I say. “That’s very invasive. You’re going to make that a part of the book?”
“Of course not!”
I put a hand on her knee. “Sure you are. You’re asking me what turns me on the most.”
“Is it quarterly reports? When your profit margins increase?”
I close my eyes and pretend to shudder. “Don’t make me hard, Chaos.”
Her laughter is sweet. It fills the warm air, and she reaches for her goodie bag. “You’re such an idiot.”
With her, of course I am. There’s nothing but her when she’s around. It’s been that way for weeks. My hand slides further up her bare thigh. “What turns me on, is someone else’s pleasure. Your pleasure.”
The breath seeps out of her. “Oh.”
“Do you know why?”
“No,” she whispers.
“Because you can’t fake it.” I lean in and touch my lips to her cheek. I glance past her to the party and the throng of people. No one is watching us. “Some women think they can. But they can’t. They are real, your orgasms. And they have to be earned.”
“Oh, wow.”
“I love it when you come, Chaos. Nothing else gives me more pleasure.”
She leans back a little, her eyes wide. “You were jealous earlier. Out there. Right?”
“I’m still jealous.”
“Of what? I’m here with you.”
I slide my hand up and grip her hip, and look pointedly down at the see-through lacy triangles that form the top of her babydoll dress, or whatever she’d called it.
“That thing must have come with a proper bra.”
“No. It didn’t. And other people here are in skimpier things than me.”
I look at the crowd again. People are dancing in far more revealing things than Charlotte is wearing. It’s true.
But she’s her.
My hand drifts upward, and I brush the bottom swell of her small, firm tit. “Everyone can see these.”
“They’re just breasts. Tiny ones.”
I groan, low in my throat, as her nipples harden into peaks. I move my thumb up and trace the outline of one through the delicate lace.
“Anyone could see,” she whispers. But she doesn’t pull away, either.
“You’re blocking everyone’s view.” I meet her gaze with a glare. “Don’t go out there showing anyone else these.”
Her smile widens. “How else am I going to enjoy myself at this party?
“Wear my jacket.”
“That would be a little suspicious, wouldn’t it?”
She stands suddenly, the hem of the dress fluttering against her bare thighs. She grabs her goodie bag. “I know there are sex toys in here. Maybe I’ll just have to go and find someone I can use them with.”
“Charlotte,” I say darkly.
She takes another step back, her smile widening. “I’m about to turn around. In three, two, one...”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Catch me,” she says and dances off into the night and the throng of people.