Guilty as Sin - 16 (Patreon)

What a fun chapter to kick off 2026... if I do say so myself!

-------Guilty as Sin---------

Chapter Sixteen

“Sooo,” Caleb drawled as soon as he and Dean had ended their lovely rendition of Happy Birthday upon her picking up their phone call. “How is your birthday in seclusion?”

“It’s actually not even my birthday, so imagine my surprise at hearing you sing when I answered,” she shot back.

“Hey, you told me that you were going totally dark on your birthday! I had to get my singing in now.”

She rolled her eyes, deciding to ignore that, and go back to the original question posed.

Charlotte looked around from her perch on the balcony and answered, “It’s… beautiful.”

It really was beautiful. The cabin her grandmother owned was – as Caleb had said – entirely secluded. From where she was looking out from a second story and with the cabin having been built up on a hill, she could see through the vast space in all different directions. And there was… nothing. No one else, save for other homes on the lake, but nothing close enough to even be considered walkable unless you were considering a hike.

Straight ahead of her was the beautiful, unobstructed view of the lake itself, and all around her were trees. Wilderness. Mountains in the distance.

Caleb frowned, shuddering as if warding off a disgusted chill. “Sure. If you find camping beautiful.”

“That cabin is not camping,” Dean interjected from the background, laughing.

Charlotte hummed in agreement, rolling her eyes at her brother. “I wouldn’t exactly say I’m roughing it,” she drawled.

But, in fairness to Caleb, she didn’t necessarily love it here, either.

She wasn’t upset about being here, and there was an undeniable sense of peace, that was all true. But Charlotte didn’t actually thrive in the calm, quiet moments. She thrived when she was busy, when her mind was kept active and moving.

“You chose to be there,” Caleb shot back with a scoff. “You could have stayed here and let us take you out. We could have flown to Vegas! Do you know how much I would have loved to take this weekend and fly out to Vegas?” He let out a loud sigh.

Now she scoffed. “You can still fly to Vegas for the weekend, you know. No one’s stopping you.”

“Yeah, obviously, but if it was for your birthday, we would have a reason.”

She breathed back a noncommittal hum. Honestly, she could have flown to Vegas with Caleb and Dean this weekend; it would have accomplished the same goal she was trying to accomplish here.

The goal being to put real distance between herself and Sutton, for more than a night.

Honestly, even when they were apart at night it didn’t feel like enough. Even if they were at their own homes, they were both in the city. They were accessible to one another.

Charlotte’s birthday “gift” to herself this year was space.

Her typical preferred method of dealing with stress would either be to bury it in someone else for the night or to bury herself in work until she couldn’t think about anything else.

Sex was decidedly out, because she just – she couldn’t bring herself to hook up with someone knowing that it would be Sutton on her mind. Most disconcertingly, not even because she’d feel badly about whomever she was fucking, because she always laid the ground work for her sexual partner to know that this wasn’t going to be something.

No, most disturbingly, she felt – she felt guilty in regards to Sutton. Like she was wronging Sutton if she fucked someone else.

And that… that needed to stop, here and now.

Beyond professional courtesy and genuine friendship, they owed nothing to one another. Charlotte was actually free and clear to have sex with anyone she wanted.

So was Sutton.

Which made her feel tied up in jealous knots, something she’d never felt before in her fucking life. The idea of Sutton doing precisely what Charlotte had talked about – going out, meeting someone who would treat her well, who had the same goals in life, being with that person – made her so green with envy, she felt ready to claw that person’s fucking eyes out with her bare hands.

… and that was terrifying.

She’d arranged to take this weekend far away from everything and everyone – including Sutton. Especially Sutton – so she could recalibrate and get her head on right. So she could go back to work and be thinking clearly, focused on the future.

Focused on exactly what she’d said to Sutton.

Because she could see it. She could see the vision. She had a foothold in the career she’d always dreamed of for herself, the first rung on the ladder she wanted to climb. And she did fully agree with her grandmother’s assessment from months ago: she’d never be able to do it alone, without someone she trusted by her side.

Professionally speaking.

Sutton was that person. She’d filled in the gaps Charlotte hadn’t been aware of. Not only was she incredible at running Charlotte’s office, but she was incredible at working Charlotte.

Oh, how she wished –

No.

Sutton was great at knowing when she needed a break, when she hadn’t had lunch, when she needed to talk, when she needed to have silence.

She was so valuable, and Charlotte had come to the clear realization – especially after that moment in the elevator – that Sutton was the only person she could imagine letting in this way. She was indispensable to Charlotte, now.

Which meant Charlotte had to march forward, exactly as she envisioned. She couldn’t get tripped up in the messiness with Sutton anymore.

I think about you during all of the times I should be thinking of you and… all of the times I absolutely should not be thinking of you.

Charlotte’s grip tightened on her wine glass minutely as Sutton’s words from last night replayed in her ears like they were being whispered by the wind threading through the trees around her.

Tightly closing her eyes, she dropped her head back to tilt up at the darkening sky, feeling the way the wind was whipping through her hair.

She’d wanted to use this weekend to get away from Sutton, and then of course Sutton had gone and thrown that absolute grenade into everything. She wasn’t going to let Charlotte get away with a single damn thing, was she?

And as much as she hated it, she loved it. As much as she wished Sutton could have just not said a thing after the elevator, she was so enthralled that Sutton did. That was what made Sutton… Sutton. It was the thing that had gotten Charlotte to hire her in the first place, wasn’t it?

Her coming to Charlotte’s office, totally fired up.

“Anyway, yeah, I’m thinking we should arrange that Vegas trip soon,” Caleb continued, having been rambling about Vegas to Charlotte’s distracted ears for the last couple of minutes. “Maybe Thanksgiving?”

She let out an exasperated laugh. “Maybe, and that’s firm on the maybe. If you and Dean book something, don’t factor me in,” she warned.

“Boo,” Caleb shot back.

Whatever else he’d continued to say was cut off by a loud, sharp crack of thunder that rumbled in the sky overhead.

Charlotte’s view could have been a lot more beautiful, had there not been a storm on the horizon. Instead of beautiful blue skies – that should have been melting into a glorious sunset right now – she was left with an angry dark gray.

It had been cloudy and windy since she’d woken up this morning, but it had gotten progressively worse throughout the day.

“The rain already started here, and it’s pretty serious,” Caleb commented, switching into his lesser-used serious tone. “Did you make sure the generator at the cabin was up and running?”

She frowned. “I… did.”

She had reached out to company that managed the property for her grandmother to let them know about her arrival, and had provided her work email as a secondary contact measure. It wasn’t as though her staying at the cabin was actually sensitive information.

Or so she’d thought.

She’d never have predicted that Sutton would have taken her weekend trip away so seriously. How the hell could Charlotte have known that once Sutton caught wind of her leaving she would assume Charlotte was absconding for a torrid weekend full of sex?!

And she wished that she could have truly been affronted at Sutton even asking the question like she had the right to the answer. Because what Charlotte had told her was true: that was no one’s business.

But it had made Charlotte’s blood rush through her veins a little hotter at the fact that Sutton wanted it to be her business, and was so assertive about that fact.

Ugh.

The company had apologized for accidentally CC’ing her secondary email on the thread, and Charlotte had let it go, because it “technically” wasn’t a big deal. She’d given them the contact information. Technically.

But she had been a little too focused on the Sutton of it all, and not enough on looking over the checklist of everything that had been prepared for her arrival for the weekend.

At the next clap of thunder, accompanied this time by a startingly clear bolt of lightning in the distance, Caleb suggested, “Maybe you should double-check that.”

“Maybe I should,” she agreed, more as a way to end the call than anything. She was ready to go back to her weekend of peace, quiet, and alone-time. “And while I do plan on going dark for the weekend, I will let you know if there’s an emergency.”

“Okay, good. I’ve already warned Dean that we might need to whisk you away from your weekend of isolation.”

“He did! The car is ready if need be,” Dean chimed in again.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as her automatic response. An overreaction, she was sure. Because Caleb truly did abhor the idea of being out here at all, let alone if the generator went out for any length of time.

Then again, perhaps that was what made it sweet.

“Well, thank you. But I’m sure I won’t need it. I’ll talk to you later.”

Even after she hung up, she didn’t go immediately back inside.

Instead, she finished her glass of wine and allowed the wind to blow over her at the fiercely intense speed. The gusts were so strong, so continuous, it very nearly knocked her back a step despite the fact that she was very solidly planted on both feet.

She was also very thankful to herself that she hadn’t put her glass down, because there was no doubt in her mind it would have completely shattered, and then been swept up in the storm, sprinkling shards of glass god only knew where.

When she felt the beginning drops start to hit her face, she let out a deep sigh, blinking her eyes open, accepting that it was truly time to go inside.

Go inside and do what she’d planned to come here to do: remind herself, over and over, about the consequences of not doing the right thing. The smartest thing. The thing that was most beneficial for both her personal life and her career.

Having Sutton as both a trusted friend and an assistant was what was best. Logically, she knew that.

Right?

Yes, she forcefully reminded herself, tightening the grip she had on the railing with her free hand. Gripping tighter and tighter until the wood dug into her palm, making her wince. But the pain had been deliberate; she needed to get this through her head and accept it.

Right before she turned to go back inside – even though the storm had barely started, it wasn’t starting slow and easy; the raindrops were already landing with force – she caught sight of a car driving on one of the roads several miles away.

Tsking under her tongue, she murmured, “Good luck with that,” and tipped her empty wine glass in their direction, before she walked back inside.

The door to the second-floor balcony was all glass – as was the entire wall of windows – and opened into the primary bedroom. Tall, arched wooden ceiling, dark wood finishes, white linens… her grandmother may have used this cabin sparingly, but her décor choices were immaculate.

Honestly, Charlotte might want to plan more time here.

Especially if she needed to pencil in more time to have dedicated space from Sutton while waiting for these feelings to subside. They had to, right? What she’d told Sutton had to be true.

Right?

Nothing lasted forever, in both the good ways and the bad ways. Therefore, this blessed torment would have to fade at some point.

Sighing heartily, she trailed her hand along the banister as she walked downstairs.

She put her glass on the island that separated the living area – an open expanse, with the kitchen that had both sleek black and refinished wood finish on one side of the room closest to the door, and a cozy living room complete with the fireplace, couch, television, and bookshelves on the other side, near the bathroom.

Maybe she’d settle in over there and get some reading done.

She did, technically, have some work she could read over –

No.

She was truly taking a couple of days off from anything work-related. Because work-related things might tempt her to reach out to Sutton, and she wasn’t going to do that. Wasn’t even going to put herself in a situation where she was tempted.

She could read a normal book. Huh. It had been months since she’d done that. Since she’d had time for that. Since she’d made time.

But –

She paused, her attention turning toward the door. She could have sworn she’d heard a sound outside.

Then again, the rain was absolutely in a downpour, now, and was beating against the windows and the siding of the house, the rain whistling loudly through the air.

Still, her body remained on high-alert, and she took a slow, cautious step toward the door, making sure it was locked.

No one should be here; as she’d just been admiring – there were no other homes in any close capacity. Certainly not close enough that anyone would go for a jaunt and end up at her door.

Caleb and Dean knew she was here, but she obviously knew that they were still in the city.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath when she unmistakably saw movement outside on the deck. It had been too fast in the pouring rain for her to have gotten a real look, but someone had just walked by.

Her heart was racing in her chest, but she took a moment to close her eyes and center herself.

Charlotte Thompson was not the damsel dying in distress in the horror movie.

Congresswoman/granddaughter of former president found dead in Catskills cabin, having escaped the city trying to run away from her sexy assistant would not be the headline announcing her death to the world.

She reached for her phone, ready to call 9-1-1, but she also had to be realistic: out in the woods, in this storm, no emergency service was going to get here faster than the person already at her door.

So, she grabbed the cast iron skillet that was artfully left out on the stove – all for the aesthetic, because Charlotte sure as hell wasn’t going to be using it – hefting it in her grasp. This would work.

Resolutely, she did not allow herself to jump at the insistent knock on the door.

She’d known it was coming, even if it was jarring.

Instead, she tightened her hold on the pan and crept over to the door. Long, deep breath in… release.

She could handle this.

Just as she reached the door, the person knocked again. “Hello? Charlotte?”

Relief flooded through her just in time to be replaced by utter confusion.

That was Sutton’s voice. She knew Sutton’s voice, and there was no mistaking it to her ears, even through the thick wooden door with the artfully frosted glass.

Hastily, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

There she was.

Sutton standing right here on the doorstep of the cabin.

Her hair was soaked, plastered to her head and then over her shoulder, the short-sleeved shirt and shorts she was wearing completely drenched through. But when they locked gazes, those blue eyes lit up, and a smile – albeit, clearly riddled with both nerves and… more – slid into place.

“Um… can I come in?” Sutton asked, clearly needing to raise her voice to be heard over the weather that was still pouring over her.

Charlotte had needed that moment, needed Sutton to speak to her, to break her out of whatever trance she’d gone into. Going from irritatingly and embarrassingly fearful to mesmerized by the sight of Sutton in less than thirty seconds apparently was the thing that did the trick to make her mind stop running a mile a minute.

Shaking her head at herself, she quickly stepped back, waving Sutton in. “Obviously, yes. Come in, get out of the rain.”

Sutton walked past her into the cabin, and she peered out, confirming that they were – as they should be – totally alone, before shutting the door and locking it.

Exhaling deeply, she paused with her hand on the lock, her back turned to Sutton.

Now that there wasn’t a murderer at her door and her systems were back to functioning like normal, she could focus:

Sutton was here. Sutton was here. Sutton was here.

Sutton, the woman she’d arranged this entire weekend to get away from, was here. At this secluded cabin. In the middle of a horrific storm.

Holding onto that confusion and concern – because she had to hold onto something – she fortified herself, already demanding an answer as she turned around. “What are you doing here?”

Charlotte could hear in her own voice that she was maybe a little bit harsh in tone, and she internally winced at it.

But she was only fucking human, as much as she loved to tell herself and act otherwise.

“Is that a frying pan?” Sutton asked, focusing on the pan Charlotte was still holding, though it was now down at her side.

Which, she was sure, looked ridiculous.

She held it up, waving it slightly at Sutton, as she walked over to the counter to place it back down. Also to give some distance between them.

“Yes, it’s a pan. Because it was all I had in my immediate vicinity when someone unexpectedly knocked on my door out in the woods in the middle of a storm.” She slowly, deliberately arched Sutton a look as she spoke.

“Right,” Sutton murmured, rolling her lips together.

“So, I’ll ask again: what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Maybe that was it. Maybe there was some sort of emergency that Sutton thought was too serious to text her about, too serious to wait until Tuesday.

“Is someone else here?” Sutton asked rather than answer, casting a glance over her shoulder over at the room.

The empty room.

She didn’t look for long, though, turning back to Charlotte, and those ocean blue eyes were blazing. “I know you said it’s none of my business if someone else is here to enjoy a weekend with you, and you’re not, technically, wrong. I know that. But I’m going to say what I’m going to say whether or not someone’s here.”

Being turned on by Sutton’s assertive side was something Charlotte had very much trying to not look inward about. Yet, it was rearing its head right now.

She folded her arms tightly over her chest, like she could physically contain any stirrings of desire. “No. No one’s here,” she haltingly answered.

“Good. Because, here’s the thing,” Sutton started, before she broke off with a shiver.

And Charlotte focused on that shiver, because she had to.

Because she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to hear what Sutton was going to say to her.

Also because now that she was looking, Sutton was shivering fairly intensely. Raindrops were still rolling down her face, falling from her hair, as well as dripping from her shirt and shorts. She was soaked to the bone, and Charlotte didn’t care for that at all.

She held up her hand to stave off whatever was happening next. “I’m going to get you a towel.” She frowned, looking even closer. Sutton might have only been outside for, like, one minute from her walk from the driveway to the door, but the storm was showing no mercy.

“Jesus,” she murmured, pausing next to Sutton. “Next time you decide to go out in weather like this, might I suggest a poncho?”

Sutton’s lips quirked into the smallest of smiles.

And, if Charlotte let herself, she could stare at that smile for far longer than logic should allow.

She walked straight ahead, not turning back – especially because she knew without a momentary doubt that if she did, she’d focus on how Sutton’s shorts, unquestionably, had molded to her ass.

In the bathroom, she reached for one of the freshly laundered, fluffy towels, and then hesitated. Staring at herself in the mirror.

Her cheeks were a little too flushed to be normal, that was for certain.

This wasn’t a dream, right? She hadn’t slipped on the balcony and hit her head, and this was all happening in her mind. Right?

She’d had so many dreams that started off in innocuous situations where Sutton magically appeared and then they started to have sex. So, so many.

But… this didn’t actually feel like a dream. She’d thought Sutton was a murderer, first of all. And in her dreams, they never talked this much before fucking.

This was all very real.

Rolling her shoulders back, she tightened her arms around the towel, and walked out of the bathroom.

“My grandmother is far from precious about the floors getting wet; granted, it’s not as though she’s cleaning them. Still, I don’t think it’s good for you or the hardwood for–”

Charlotte stumbled to a stop, nearly swallowing her fucking tongue.

Because Sutton was standing there, stripped out of her shirt and shorts.

Still wearing underwear – a matching lacy dark blue set – and… nothing else.

All of her soft-looking skin was on display, the gentle curve of her waist, the sinfully long length of her legs, the way her bra dipped between her breasts, teasing Charlotte.

She’d been wrong about multiple things.

This, actually, was how to make her short-circuit.

And maybe this was a dream after all.

This was dream-Sutton behavior.

“I’m going to have a heart attack,” she murmured, unthinkingly.

Because, really, she felt like she might. Her heart was pounding so quickly, so fiercely in her chest, it made her lightheaded. It was mortifying, in a sense, because Charlotte had never reacted to a naked woman like this in her life, not even in her teen years. And Sutton wasn’t even completely naked.

“No, you’re not,” Sutton disagreed with her, gently.

Her fingers were interlocked in front of her, like she wasn’t sure if she’d done the right thing or not. Like she was feeling a little insecure, but was trying to push through.

Charlotte… she’d never been so aroused so quickly. Definitely not just from looking at a woman in her underwear.

But this wasn’t any woman, this was Sutton.

And she looked so fucking good.

A tortured groan tore itself from the back of her throat, and she forced herself to walk forward while only looking Sutton in the eye. She wasn’t going to look anymore.

She couldn’t!

She was Sutton’s boss!

She held the towel out in front of her, letting it unfold, covering Sutton from view as she approached. As gingerly as she could, she reached up and draped it around her like a backwards cape.

Because at this point, it was less about keeping Sutton warm and more about covering her breasts, her hips, her waist, her thighs from Charlotte’s view.

Even though she dropped her hands away as fast as she could, feeling as though touching Sutton right now would set her off in a way she’d never recover from, she couldn’t bring herself to step away.

Instead, she angled her jaw up, demanding roughly, “Why are you doing this to me? Did you miss when I said that you’re tormenting me?”

“That’s exactly why I’m here,” Sutton insisted, nonsensically, and then she shrugged her shoulders and made the towel drop.

Charlotte glanced at how it pooled between their feet. “Sutton!” She called out in reproach and, damn it, thrilled desire.

Both things could be true, apparently.

“Charlotte,” Sutton mirrored the urgency in her tone. “I’m quitting.”

Everything in the world stopped spinning. Her stomach bottomed out, and this… no. This made her feel worse, feel sicker than anything else.

At the very least, this might be the only thing on the planet that could make Charlotte stop thinking about Sutton being almost naked in front of her.

Snapping her eyes up to Sutton’s, she was already shaking her head. Rejecting every syllable that had left Sutton’s mouth. “You – what? No. I do not accept your resignation.”

There was nothing but a calm resolution on Sutton’s face. This kind of serenity that told Charlotte that Sutton hadn’t come here for an argument, that she wasn’t here to be talked into keeping her job.

And that was terrifying.

“I’m quitting, Charlotte,” Sutton repeated, quietly and insistently. “I have to.”

“You don’t,” she insisted, fervently. She very nearly stomped her foot on the ground, nearly demanded that Sutton take it back, like a child. “That’s the entire reason we’re doing this whole…”

She trailed off, gesturing both of her arms around her.

“That is why I’m here,” she stated, staring intently up at Sutton. She needed Sutton to get on the same page she was on, and fucking fast. She didn’t intentionally soften her voice, but it came out so soft, almost pleading. “I’m not here to spend my birthday weekend having a sex-getaway with another woman, Sutton. I’m here to have some time to make peace about you and I. So I can walk back into work with a clear head. So we could both take a few days of breathing room.”

And now that was totally shot, but it didn’t change what Charlotte had intended.

“See, that’s the thing. You’re saying that you and I can’t cross a line because of work, because of this big, beautiful future you have a vision of. Because we’re building something that’s going to be incredible, something that will last for years. That we’re going to be doing this,” she gestured between them, “For years.”

Charlotte’s heart was in her throat, and she couldn’t have looked away from Sutton even if she tried. She couldn’t. “Exactly,” she managed to rasp out.

Sutton shook her head, and there was a gentleness in the motion. Something that echoed the look in her eyes that was so soft… Charlotte had never been dumped before. But this felt like that, she imagined. The way Sutton looked at her –

She gasped, reeling with it. “Is this you, trying to – to let me down gently?”

Oh god. She felt like she was going to be sick.

She wanted to rage. She wanted to cry. She wanted to beg Sutton to change her fucking mind. She wanted Sutton to stop and realize that Charlotte was right.

“I don’t–” Sutton obviously hadn’t expected that question – and why should she? Because Charlotte made it sound like Sutton was breaking up with her, and that wasn’t actually the case.

But Sutton was leaving her. She wanted – she wanted to leave Charlotte.

And that made her feel an emptiness she’d never reckoned with before.

“Charlotte… we aren’t building anything. You are.”

“With you by my side,” she immediately refuted, heatedly. “Sutton, having you working with me has been everything I never knew I needed. It’s because of how much you’ve helped me level-up the way I’m able to see things, to handle things, that I can see such a clear path.”

Didn’t Sutton understand that?

“And that’s amazing,” Sutton acknowledged, a genuine smile sliding onto her face. “But in all of those grand plans, you seriously miscalculated something.”

Was Charlotte pouting? Was that was this expression was that she could feel on her face? She felt frustrated and so – so sad and Sutton wasn’t going to change her mind. She could see it, feel it.

“What did I miscalculate?” She needed to ask, even though she detested the very idea of having made such a gross miscalculation. Though, clearly, she had.

“This was never going to be my future. I told you when I interviewed with you; I don’t want a future in politics. This – you – weren’t some stepping stone for me.”

“I know that,” she shot back, and couldn’t even care that her desperation was laced through her tone. “And I love that. But me not being a stepping stone for you – I thought…”

She trailed off, feeling utterly ridiculous, now.

It had made her trust Sutton. This knowledge that Sutton wasn’t working with her – for her – to get connections and work a room, looking for the next precipice her career could climb to.

“I’m quitting, Charlotte. Whether or not anything happens between us, I’m quitting. Because I can’t do this. I can’t live like this,” Sutton’s voice dragged Charlotte out of her thoughts.

Mostly because Sutton wasn’t so serene, so calm, anymore.

She looked like she was feeling as desperate as Charlotte was.

“Maybe one day the way I want you will fade,” Sutton acknowledged, biting at her bottom lip as she stared intensely down at Charlotte. “Maybe it will, but I can’t know that. And I can’t know how long that will take. How could I possibly stop wanting you to the point of distraction when you’re – you?”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

This was the wildest rollercoaster Charlotte had ever been on in her life, and she was now on another loop-de-loop, being thrown back into the needy wanting Sutton brought out in her.

“How am I supposed to be less attracted to you when I grow more attracted to you every day? How am I supposed to try to find this mysterious partner you mention in your plans for the future when the only thing that makes me so wet it’s unbearable is you? How can I possibly live this way – wanting you so badly that I can feel every touch of your skin against mine for hours after it happened, wanting you so much that I–”

Charlotte had heard enough.

Something inside of her broke, snapping so swiftly she could feel it. Like a dam bursting, the last vestige of will-power that had kept her away from Sutton was gone.

If Sutton wanted to quit? What the hell did Charlotte have standing in her way, then?

She kicked the towel out from between them, reaching one of her arms out to wrap around Sutton’s bare waist. Her skin sang from the contact, from Sutton’s soft skin against her, as she pressed forward, pushing their bodies against one another.

Her other hand moved to take a fistful of that red hair, damp from the rain, yanking Sutton down to kiss her.

Finally.

.

.

.

.

spoiler prevention

.

.

.

.