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“Bullshit. Really?”
Charlie shrugs his shoulders again. “It seems that way. Had it been me, it would have just pissed me off, but Spencer finds respect in people who demand it.”
“And how am I meant to earn Colton’s?”
“Baby, you got that the second you showed up.”
My eyes narrow as my brows pinch in confusion. Surely this guy is talking shit because there’s no way I have Colton Carrington’s respect. It’s just not possible but the way Charlie is looking at me with honesty in his eyes, he’s telling his truth.
“Come on,” he says when I don’t respond. “Enough of this heavy bullshit. Let’s go inside. I’ll make you a coffee to warm you up.”
I nod and allow him to pull me along while feeling the heat of Colton’s gaze on my back.
This whole thing is confusing me. One minute Colton hates me and the next he’s protecting me from his father. He sat with me while I scrubbed the wall, opened up to me in his room, he gave me insight into his life, and even let me steal his credit card to fix my hair when my heart was crushed. What’s happening here? There’s an intense sexual tension between us and every time another guy even looks my way, he looks jealous as hell. So, why does he act the way he does? Why tear me down? Why stand above the school pool and watch me below the water, testing my limits? Why call me the help and make me feel small?
I’m not too daft to realize that he’s interested. That’s just common sense, though it’s probably just my body he’s interested in. Is it his precious reputation he’s trying to protect? Will his world come crashing down in burning flames if people were to realize that he was nice to the help?
I don’t understand this world, but more importantly, I don’t want to. To understand it would mean to be one of them and that’s something that’ll never happen. My roots are back home and that’s where I belong, even if it makes me trash.
Charlie leads me into the kitchen and instantly grabs my waist to hoist me up onto the counter. He silently works around me, setting up the fancy as fuck coffee machine that I’ve been avoiding since being here. It’s far too complicated for me but Charlie handles it like a pro.
“You’re really not a bad guy, are you?” I question, watching him work.
He shakes his head and looks back at me with a sparkle hitting his eye. “Nope. I just like to pretend. You know I heard girls are into bad boys.”
I laugh and gently kick out my leg, hitting his hip. “Girls love a bad boy, but you’re not one of them.”
“So, I don’t have you fooled?”
I laugh, finding him more endearing than I should. “Not in the least.”
“Damn,” he mutters, pulling the coffee mug free and handing it over.
I take it eagerly and groan as the heat from the mug seeps through to my cold hands. Damn, that feels good. Unable to help myself, I raise the mug to my lips and take a quick sip, closing my eyes as the satisfaction rocks through me. I let out a soft sigh. “Shit, that’s good,” I murmur, opening my eyes to find Charlie standing right in front of me, his eyes heated as he watches the elation on my face.
“Fuck, I didn’t realize that I could get hard over coffee.”
Charlie steps into me and I feel him pressing up against my core, sending my mind into overdrive. My legs curl around him, holding him there as he stares into my eyes. The coffee mug is plucked from between my hands and placed down on the counter beside me.
He grinds against me and we both groan. The need within me spikes and turns into a desperate desire. It’s been over six months since I was with someone, and the last few times I’ve tried to get off I’ve been rudely interrupted.
Charlie slides a hand dangerously high on my thigh and I let out a breathy pant. If only he would touch me just to take the edge off. His lips drop to my collar bone and start pressing tortuous kisses up toward my ear. “I want you,” he says, his voice low and gravelly, filled with all sorts of need and desire.
I curl my hands around his back and slip them up his shirt, feeling the tight muscles beneath his skin. He’s so warm and inviting. I want to feel his body all over me, inside of me.
“If you don’t want this, you need to tell me now,” he warns.
I groan and tighten my legs around his waist, pressing him harder against my center. “Don’t stop.”
“Fuck, baby. I want to fuck you so bad.”
It’s like music to my ears.
