Those Who Wait

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Those Who Wait Page 31

by Haley Cass


  There really was a first time for everything, she supposed.

  Her quiet laughter fell away when the cloudiness that had settled in Charlotte’s eyes with her orgasm fell away and instead big, brown eyes flickered from her breasts to her eyes, darkened with arousal.

  Her breath caught on an excited gasp when Charlotte’s hand came up and her fingers scratched lightly over Sutton’s hip, before settling there and pushing as she herself rolled. Her eyes widened as she found herself on her back, staring up at Charlotte in anticipation. Charlotte’s gaze bore down on her as she rocked her hips, and Sutton’s breath caught in her throat.

  There were very exciting times for everything, she realized, and she was looking forward to all of them.

  Chapter 14

  Charlotte stared intently at her computer screen, eyes narrowed in thought, as she watched Naomi Young’s interview from that morning for approximately the fifth time.

  She’d figured that something like this was coming; her own ad campaign had started with a bang last week and she’d already done two interviews with reporters. Naomi Young was many things but she certainly wasn’t going to sit back while Charlotte started to surge ahead. She’d known that, of course, so this wasn’t shocking.

  So, no, she hadn’t been caught off guard, but Naomi had made her first strike. Which meant that it was important to be vigilant now even more than before. Even though her eyes were burning just a little bit from focusing so intently on the computer, she couldn’t stop herself from watching the screen as she tapped her pen against a pad of paper.

  She’d been writing down notes on everything she’d noticed. About what Naomi said, how she said it, the tone, which words were used – which words weren’t. Notes about her body language, her clothes, how long her smiles lasted. Everything she could, so that when she went to the impromptu meeting she’d called with her staff tomorrow, they could talk about all of these details.

  The day had started out normal. She’d come into work a little earlier than eight in the morning, and the interview hadn’t aired until after nine. She’d already been entrenched in her work day and was in the middle of reading through a large proposal from a food bank when the surprise interview had aired.

  She’d watched it, her mind torn between doing the work that she had to finish and wanting to inspect every detail of the interview.

  Even as she’d gotten the rest of her work done throughout the day, it had inevitably been on her mind. Enough so that she’d re-watched it again at lunch, which was when she’d first started taking notes.

  It wasn’t like anything was explicitly or obviously out of place. Naomi was nicely dressed, her hair and makeup done well – typical. She smiled when she should smile; granted, Charlotte could see the butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth fakeness even through her computer. She looked. . . as sympathetic as Charlotte thought she was capable of looking when they spoke of her deceased husband. She was well-spoken, though not as well-spoken as Charlotte thought of herself.

  She talked somewhat about her “platform” though the issues she was tackling were of less immediate value and importance than what Charlotte was taking a stance on.

  All of the points lined up to where Charlotte could have predicted they would – except for one.

  Her.

  When it came to Charlotte herself, Naomi was much less heavy-handed in her insults than expected. Of course there were some barbed remarks concerning her youth relative to “inexperience,” some comments about her grandmother, a remark about her photoshoot, and they were all decently innocent. Nothing especially nasty. And, beyond that there was nothing.

  If it had been an interview done by someone else – nearly any other opponent, really – that wouldn’t have been concerning. That would have aligned exactly where she might have expected.

  However, if Charlotte knew anything about Naomi Young, it was that she most definitely was not in the business of pulling any punches when it came to getting what she wanted. And so, that wouldn’t stop gnawing at the back of her mind; something else was happening or was in the works, she was sure of it.

  But campaigns couldn’t be run based on intuitive feelings, as her grandmother would tell her. And even though she knew it was getting a little late and that she should leave – try to rest and relax as much as she could – her brain just wouldn’t stop.

  Blowing out a sigh, Charlotte shook her head and brought her hands up, rubbing them over her face and then scooping them back through her hair. She knew she wasn’t overlooking anything. Couldn’t be. Still –

  The multiple vibrations of her phone pulled her away from her thoughts, and quickly she reached for it. She’d contacted Aaron a few hours ago about her niggling feeling, and despite the fact that he’d answered only to say they would discuss it in person tomorrow, she couldn’t help but think maybe he found something already.

  It took her a moment in all of her anticipation of news about Naomi’s campaign to realize that the texts weren’t, in fact, from Aaron or anyone else on her staff, but Sutton.

  Sutton – 8:13PM

  Hey! I just had dinner and watched Naomi’s

  interview with a friend . . .

  Sutton – 8:14PM

  How are you feeling about it? I know you

  said earlier that you needed to ruminate on it

  before figuring out what you thought.

  At that, a small smile tugged at her mouth because of course Sutton thought about that. Her phone had gone off like crazy right after her family and coworkers had gotten wind of the interview. And though she had only answered a select few, Sutton had been one of them.

  Sutton who, unlike the texts that she’d received from everyone else, first and foremost asked how she was feeling. Because of course she did. But at the time, Charlotte hadn’t had any time to process.

  Sutton – 8:14PM

  I was thinking you could come over when you

  left the office and we could talk about it and

  watch a movie.

  Sutton – 8:15PM

  Just, you know, because we haven’t hung out

  “as friends” as much lately. But it’s okay if the

  interview has you too busy!

  Sutton was right; they hadn’t hung out “as friends” very much since they’d agreed to be friends with benefits. Even though it was Rule Number 1, it had been somewhat neglected. Granted, with everything going on – not only with Charlotte’s own schedule but with Sutton’s end of semester coming up – they’d only seen each other three times in the last two weeks.

  And every time had been about sex, or, at the very least, involving sex.

  Charlotte wouldn’t – couldn’t – complain about that, either. It would be impossible to, because sex with Sutton every single time was enlightening.

  She’d gotten to know the way Sutton’s thighs trembled and tightened around her head when she was about to come. When she could feel that Sutton was trying to still hold on to control, but couldn’t. She’d become intimately familiar with the breathy sounds that escaped from the back of Sutton’s throat when she was just about to let go. She’d learned several of the spots that made Sutton go weak, the spots that made her hips jerk against Charlotte’s with want.

  She knew what it was to take Sutton slowly, to walk her through what she was doing. To tease – just a little. She’d ventured last time into fucking her faster and harder, and had been shocked when after Sutton had screamed for her, she’d immediately pulled her up to sit on her face.

  She’d never had this wanting, this craving of having more sex and in all kinds of positions with the same person, especially after having already had sex with her. It was . . . heady.

  And while all of that aspect was new for her, the entire sleeping with women aspect was new to Sutton. Who was more than eager and excited to try new things, to explore Charlotte’s body. Her touches could be both hesitant and bold. Curious and intuitive. She was so open for Charlotte to tell her exactly what she wanted
and what she needed. How and when and where she wanted Sutton’s fingers and mouth; she was so ridiculously receptive.

  Even though it had only been a few times that Sutton had touched her, she was quite the fast learner and somewhat of a perfectionist. They’d been charming traits when Sutton was just her friend, but introducing that into a sex life was –

  Amazing.

  And there was still so much Sutton had yet to experience, that the thought of it all made Charlotte’s stomach dip in anticipation.

  Blinking down at the messages before she leaned back in her chair, she realized that the heaviness weighing on her shoulders that had been there all day had somewhat melted away, replaced instead with thoughts of Sutton.

  The fact that there was an actual want inside of her to go see Sutton and to give her mind a break from re-watching the interview yet again confirmed that having Sutton as a friend was something she’d never experienced before with anyone else.

  Charlotte – 8:18PM

  That sounds perfect. My head needs a break

  from watching this too much. Maybe a fresh

  point of view will give me a better focus.

  She put her phone down on the desk before drumming her fingers for a moment, her eyes skipping back up to land once more on Naomi’s face on the screen. They narrowed for a moment, her face pinching in annoyance once again because – what was it?

  A few moments beat by before she hummed under her breath, slowly closing out of the internet browser and rolling her shoulders. What she thought bothered her the most about Naomi’s interview, if she had to put it into words, was that there was something so obviously not going on, that it made her positive that Naomi was up to something.

  And she knew that sounded ludicrous, but she just . . . knew that it was also the truth.

  As she let out a deep breath, she forced herself to shut down her laptop and reached into her desk to get her purse before locking the drawer. It was pointless to let her mind run around in circles even more when she had no new information and no new eyes on the situation.

  She stood, slipping into her jacket. First, the lighter one that she’d originally grabbed out of her coat closet – a dark blue one that went seamlessly over her dress, running just a bit longer than her others typically did, but it actually really worked for her. More for style than for weather protection. Then she reached for the heavier coat that she’d worn on top of the first when she’d realized exactly how cold it was.

  It wasn’t until the backs of her fingers brushed up against the lighter jacket as she zipped up the heavier one that she froze as the realization hit her: this was Sutton’s jacket. The one that Sutton had left at her home in a hurry after they’d first had sex, a little over a month ago, now.

  She’d had it in her mind to return it. Well, initially she’d had it in her mind to return it. But then they’d gotten distracted and this jacket had somehow seamlessly blended into her wardrobe with her own.

  Which was actually a little strange, if she thought about the fact that for so long – her entire life – everything that was in her space was hers. There’d never been someone to have any mix-ups with.

  And for a moment, she paused as she wondered about the possible implications about this. About wearing another woman’s clothes, about another woman’s clothes blending with her own.

  But it only lasted for a moment, before she shook her head slightly, brown curls falling over her shoulders. Because all it meant was that Sutton was . . . Sutton. Her friend, the closest one she’d ever had, and that entailed things that Charlotte just wasn’t used to.

  Which apparently meant that one of said bonuses was stylish items unwittingly added to her wardrobe. She could get used to that part.

  “No wonder I’ve only seen you twice in the last few weeks; you’re apparently turning into a mole-woman who sleeps at work,” Caleb’s voice came from next to her and she turned sharply as her stomach jumped, eyes widened in surprise.

  Her brother was dressed similarly in his own heavy winter jacket, though his was also joined with a hat that made her immediate smile grow even wider, fondness rushing through her. She hadn’t seen her brother that much lately and texting wasn’t the same.

  Still, she rolled her eyes mockingly. “Sure, blame me, and not the fact that you’ve been working the night shift and sleeping during the day.”

  His eyes sparkled back at her in mirth as he walked closer, wrapping her in a quick, warm hug. “I’ve worked the night beat before and we’ve had time together. But suddenly my sister is becoming a bigshot, and I have to rely on my boyfriend for updates.”

  “Drama queen,” she shot back as she shook her head, unable to wipe the smile from her face, as she reached for her purse that was still settled on her desk. “I hope you didn’t come to try to kidnap me for drinks, though. I have plans tonight.”

  Caleb eyed her phone with interest, eyes still alight with amusement. “Oh, so you’re too busy to spend a night out with your only brother –”

  “I wonder how William would feel about being cut out from our family tree,” she cut him off, tapping her finger to her chin, deadpanning.

  He exaggeratedly waved her off, “You didn’t let me finish – only brother who lives near you. I should have said closest brother in retrospect. Either way, you’re working such long hours that you barely had enough time to have dinner with me the other night, but you’re going to see Sutton tonight . . . interesting,” he mused, his voice lofty.

  Charlotte tilted her head, lifting her eyebrow in a challenge. “And your point is?”

  He let out a dramatically aghast breath, pointing his finger at her in triumph. “I just want you to admit that she’s your girlfriend! There’s no shame, Charlie.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, scoffing as she reached up to bat his accusing finger away. “Honestly, Caleb, you’re acting like you’ve never had a friends with benefits situation before. There’s no girlfriend to speak of.”

  From over his shoulder, she saw Dean approaching after locking the door to his office and she shot him a quick grin, colored in the exasperation she was feeling for her brother.

  The appearance of his boyfriend didn’t deter Caleb, however.

  “No girlfriend? No girlfriend? But – about this tall.” He held his hand up, waving it right under his own eye level. “Long red hair? Blue eyes? You’ve been having sex with her regularly, have an emotional attachment –”

  Her mouth fell open in indignation. “Friends with benefits! Everything you just said is right there!”

  “Yeah, friends with benefits is one thing. But one that’s exclusive, with sleepovers . . . it’s pushing the line,” he kept his voice light and teasing but there was an underlying seriousness that she couldn’t help but notice and it put her just the littlest bit on edge. “Sounds like a girlfriend to me. What do you think, Dean?”

  Caleb turned teasing, interested eyes to his boyfriend, who shot him a look, even though there was adoration in it, too. Because he was all too used to Caleb’s dramatics – and he loved them. Still, he looked at Charlotte, then back, lifting his hands palms up to both of them. “I abstain.”

  Before her brother could continue – because he would and Charlotte just . . . she didn’t want to hear it. She loved her brother, more than almost anyone in the world, but sometimes he got the wrong idea and would run with it until it was six feet under. Which he was especially doing with Sutton, now. It was simply incorrect and not what she wanted to have on her mind when she was going to visit her friend.

  Charlotte elbowed him in the ribs, triumphantly grinning when he yelped as she changed the subject, “What are you two doing here?”

  Now it was Dean who answered, his eyebrow arching in question, “No, the correct question is what are you doing here? You told me when I left almost two hours ago that you were leaving soon!”

  She’d told him that in order to gently break him off from the concerned speech he’d been giving her about devoting too much time
to working, spending too much time at the office in the last few weeks.

  She gestured to the coat she’d just zipped and the purse on her other arm. “And I’m leaving now. Just finishing some stuff up.”

  “Watching that interview again, more like it,” Caleb interjected in a conspiratorial whisper.

  She didn’t have any shame in that, however, and acknowledged it with a nod and a shrug. “And taking copious notes. But what about you? I didn’t disrupt some sort of afterhours office rendezvous, did I?” She gave them a wink.

  “One time,” Dean grumbled, shaking his head.

  Caleb only grinned widely, wrapping an arm around Dean’s shoulders as they all started walking out of the office. “Nah, not tonight. Dean here forgot his wallet in his office, though,” he ribbed. “How is my sugar daddy supposed to buy me dinner without his wallet?”

  Charlotte chuckled as Dean argued, “I think that someone here is forgetting who has a trust fund.”

  “Please, like you’d ever allow yourself to be a kept man,” she added before she took a deep breath and burrowed slightly more into her warm jacket before she prepared for the cold weather outside that was about to hit when they opened the doors.

  Dean turned his incredulous look to her. “Oh, and you would ever allow yourself to be a kept woman?”

  The term alone made her grimace; so far from the future she’d planned for herself. “You have a point.”

  But Caleb tsk’d at both of them. “Oh, says the workaholic who’s finally taking a break to go see her woman who has marriage and children written all over her homemade baked goods.”

  It was pointless to argue again, even as she sighed loudly to make her displeasure known. Then again, that description did fit Sutton, Charlotte could acknowledge. It simply didn’t fit them.

  Her brother, thankfully, let it drop for now. It might have had something to do with the fact that they were about to go in the opposite direction that she took to Sutton’s in order to head to the parking garage and Caleb’s car. “Speaking of homemade cooking though, can I get you to leave the office in time for dinner with me this week?”

 

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