Guilty as Sin - chapter 20 (Patreon)

I'm a little fried from yesterday, which was incredible, and I appreciate everyone who came and joined in virtually, so so much.

But, really, it was... electric.

And without further adieu, here is the next Guilty as Sin...

Chapter Twenty

No matter what you decide, I don’t regret anything this weekend.

Sutton’s parting words to her played in Charlotte’s mind on a loop all throughout the lunch she’d had, following her right up to this moment, as she sat on the deck back at the cabin with her grandmother.

She sat in the same spot she’d been in hours ago, where she’d had the breakfast Sutton had made for them, while her grandmother sat in Sutton’s seat across from her.

It was almost like some sort of divine torture, how she could see the ghost of Sutton playing in her mind. Asking her questions about Charlotte’s past birthdays that should have been innocuous, but felt incredibly personal to Charlotte.

Elizabeth lightly drummed her fingertips against the table, instantly garnering Charlotte’s attention. Which was a deliberate move on her grandmother’s part; she didn’t do anything unintentionally. If she drummed her fingertips on the table, it was meant to snap Charlotte’s attention onto her because she’d clearly realized she hadn’t had it.

Rolling her shoulders back, Charlotte ran her gaze from her grandmother’s hand on the table up to meet her eyes.

So perceptive, her grandmother had an eyebrow arched at her. “I’ll speak plainly, now that we’re at the privacy of our own home: would you prefer I not manipulate the conversation until you tell me what is actually on your mind? Given that it’s your birthday, I will adhere to the request.”

Caught.

Unsurprisingly so, and yet Charlotte felt… silly in a way she so rarely did with her grandmother. In a way she so rarely felt ever, at all.

But Charlotte didn’t often feel that she was doing something wrong, so perhaps that was why. She really, truly, tried to hold herself to a standard. Operate professionally with morals and ethics. Operate in personal affairs by being honest and upfront about what she was looking for.

Elizabeth’s eyes were sharp and intent, studying her. “I’ll admit, I’d believed I’d have gotten you to admit to me whatever is taking up the majority of your focus over lunch. Now that I know it’s not regarding work, however, I’m more inclined toward concern.”

Over lunch, they’d spoken in-depth on every possible topic on Charlotte’s professional plate right now. Her grandmother was up-to-date on every loose thread she had on her plate when it came to politics, and she’d skillfully ran them through the exhaustive list.

“You’re correct,” she murmured, pursing her lips, before confirming further, “It’s not about work.”

And then she paused, her eyebrows furrowing in internal debate.

Because… wasn’t it?

Wasn’t any turmoil she had in her personal life technically due to her work?

Wasn’t the reason she was so conflicted, so wrecked inside about going back and forth about what she wanted versus what she could actually have, because of work?

Ugh.

Charlotte hated feeling this way. She absolutely detested it, actually, and she’d never had these kinds of thoughts before. The kind of thoughts that were refusing to vacate her mind as she’d watched Sutton leave.

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed, studying Charlotte closely, her fingers intertwining and coming to land in her lap. “Am I correct in also assuming that your stomach is so tied up in knots about… whatever it is on your mind, that is why you hardly touched your lunch?”

Charlotte bit hard at the inside of her cheek.

No, she’d barely been able to touch her lunch because she was still full from the breakfast Sutton had made her, after fucking her on the counter for her birthday morning sex.

Her eyes fell closed, and she worked her jaw back and forth.

Sutton had thrown – hurled, more like – the ball entirely in her court, there was no doubt about that.

She’d looked Charlotte in the eye and told her that she wanted more. She wanted to continue to do… this. She wanted to keep doing what they’d now started.

And damn it, Charlotte wanted that, too. She wanted it so much it made her ache inside, in places she didn’t even recognize. Emotions she didn’t even know she had, or was capable of, felt like they were waking up, flaring to life for the first time.

But embarking on anything resembling a relationship was dangerous. Gambling her entire future in order to explore her feelings made Charlotte cringe. Theoretically, it made her want to slap herself, to order herself to get a grip.

Then, she thought about how it had felt this weekend. Yes, the sex, but sex was something she understood entirely. The cuddling, sound of Sutton’s sleepy laugh in the morning, the talking – talking about real things in ways that terrified her, but then she saw that wide open look in Sutton’s blue eyes, and she felt compelled to share.

And… just like that, it was difficult to find that grip.

Staring across the table, she felt double conflicted.

Because the person she believed in her heart that she could get the best, most objective and truthful, advice from was also the person whose approval she couldn’t lose.  

“It’s not that I’m so tied up I couldn’t eat,” she found herself starting, her voice hoarse. Her heart pounded harder in her chest, making her feel a little short of breath.

But her grandmother loved her. Charlotte knew that. If this was a mistake that could blow her future up, she might as well face her grandmother about it, now.

“I couldn’t eat lunch, because I had breakfast only a couple of hours ago.”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows furrowed, her lips tugging into a frown. “Why didn’t you tell me? We didn’t have to go to lunch; I’d assumed you’d want to, given that you’re not much of a cook.”

Charlotte’s lips tugged into a humorless, brittle smile, her stomach clenching. Thank god she hadn’t had much at lunch. “I’m not much of a cook. And I didn’t make myself breakfast.”

Her grandmother leaned back in her chair, her legs crossed, as she slowly nodded. “I see.”

There was no inherent judgment in her voice, but Charlotte didn’t necessarily expect that. Her grandmother didn’t give a damn that Charlotte was a lesbian, or how many women she fucked.

“I admit, I’m a little surprised you’d brought someone all the way out here. I happened to miss the young lady in question when I arrived? Was she hiding under a bed somewhere?” There was a lightness in her grandmother’s eyes as she quietly teased Charlotte, and she knew it was entirely deliberate, trying to get Charlotte to calm the hell down.

But it had the opposite effect on her.

If this was any other woman she’d ever slept with, she’d have found it very funny, frankly. The idea of a one-night-stand hiding from Charlotte’s grandmother, before scurrying out, never to be seen or heard from by Charlotte again.

Only, in this moment, she could just see that hurt, yet strong expression on Sutton’s face. When she’d told Charlotte that being hidden hurt her.

And Sutton made perfect sense, which was the hardest part for Charlotte to reconcile.

Charlotte’s grandmother knew she was a lesbian and she certainly knew how to keep a secret; why would she have to hide Sutton from her?

But it didn’t feel that easy to Charlotte, not even close to easy.

“She, ah, left. When I’d told her you were on your way.” Charlotte drew in a long, deep breath through her nose, her spine ramrod straight as she held onto her inner-strength with an iron grip. She needed to simply rip off the band-aid. “Which seemed imperative at the time, because it was Sutton. The woman who was here with me this weekend was… Sutton,” she repeated, steeling herself as best she could for her grandmother’s response.

The light, amused look that Elizabeth had worn moments ago flickered and died immediately, as Charlotte had suspected it would. “I see,” she said again, but this time her tone was flatter. “Your assistant. Am I imagining things, or did you swear up and down to me only in the last few weeks that you had nothing going on between you two?”

There it was, that steely, no-nonsense tone that Charlotte had anticipated. Still, she was on-edge, herself, and she grit her teeth. Feeling frustrated and chastised and… just… so… desperate. “Nothing was going on between us.”

Not a strong defense, but it was the only one she had.

“So, that was your interest in the cabin this weekend,” Elizabeth mused, rolling her lips into a thin line as she glanced around them. “I’d thought it was interesting you’d wanted to spend the weekend here, but I’d believed it was a positive move. You taking some real time to re-charge your batteries.”

“That was why I came here,” she denied the accusation, hating everything about this moment. Hating the way she felt about herself seeing it through her grandmother’s eyes, but also – for the first time in her life, perhaps – hating the way her grandmother saw her. “I didn’t intend for this to happen; I didn’t bring her here with me. I wanted to come here and get away from her. Get space from her. Because, obviously, you were right when you saw us in my office in D.C. You saw that I didn’t only see her as an assistant, and you knew you were right. But I didn’t do this on purpose.”

“Charlotte, you’re an incredibly well-educated and intelligent woman. Please do not tell me that you’re seeking a defense of accidentally sleeping with your assistant.” Her grandmother’s nose crinkled, as if that was the final straw for her and she couldn’t keep a measured expression in place.

Which – Charlotte understood sounded like an incredibly weak excuse. She could, objectively, understand that.

She wasn’t going to get into the semantics with her grandmother that Sutton had come here to quit, because she knew that wasn’t really the point.

She knew that the point was about how many people – how many men – in positions of power had said something similar to brush off their indiscretion? It wasn’t planned, it was a mistake, it was an accident.

Charlotte felt that rebuke land heavily inside of her, mixing with her guilt and shame at being this person.

I don’t regret anything this weekend.

This time, though, the words in her head didn’t sound like Sutton’s. They sounded… well, it sounded like Charlotte’s own internal voice.

And it was enough to give her a lifeline just as she felt like she was drowning.

She clenched her hands so tightly she could feel her nails biting into her palms, and evenly held her grandmother’s eyes with her own. “I’m not seeking a defense for anything. I am telling you how this situation happened. I’m well aware that this is not something that looks good for me.”

Jesus.

She hadn’t anticipated this at all, but something about this weekend with Sutton really had cracked something loose inside of her that she hadn’t anticipated. Because she felt the backs of her eyes sting with tears, and – why?

Frustrated and perplexed with herself – and a little concerned, because she needed to make sure this could not happen with any sort of regularity – she forced them not to fall.

“I understand that you’re looking at this operationally. You’re looking at this as a politician, as a career advisor.” She had to pause, had to swallow harshly, her throat thick with emotion. “But right now, I need you to look at this through the lens of me being your granddaughter. And I need you to look me in the eye and tell me that you know I’m not the same as all of the other people you’re thinking about.”

She searched her grandmother’s eyes with hers, unable to recall the last time she’d felt so emotionally vulnerable with anyone in her family.

Anyone who wasn’t Sutton.

“I’m not someone who has flings with assistants, or who enjoys having some sort of power over a woman that works for me.” In fact, she was growing alarmingly aware of how much power Sutton held over her, but that was certainly not information for her grandmother to have. “The only reason Sutton and I are in this position is because I have feelings for her, feelings I haven’t felt for anyone before. This is a wholly unique situation for me, and I’m – scared,” she breathed out, blinking back those stupid fucking tears again. “And I need you to tell me that even if you think I’m being stupid, even if you wish this wasn’t happening, that you know who I am.”

If her grandmother didn’t – couldn’t – see that, then… maybe Charlotte didn’t even really know who she was.

She’d spent far too much time with Sutton this weekend that much was clear. Sutton, wearing all of her emotions on her sleeve and plainly stating her intentions even if they were vulnerable.

What a terrifying concept.

Elizabeth’s expression softened, and she swiftly swapped from her seat to the one adjacent to Charlotte’s right. Closer now, their knees pressing together, as she reached out and put her hand over Charlotte’s tightly clenched fists.

“I know who you are,” Elizabeth said, in a voice that wasn’t quite a murmur. It wasn’t really that gentle at all. In fact, it was firm and unyielding, and that made Charlotte feel steadier than if her grandmother had decided to be soft. She squeezed Charlotte’s hand. “And I… while I was aware there was a measure of feelings involved, I didn’t realize it ran quite so deep.”

She scanned her eyes over Charlotte’s face, her voice dipping low and thoughtful.

“I don’t…” She trailed off, managing in her first real, full breath in several minutes. “I didn’t, either.”

She wouldn’t go into details with her grandmother, definitely not now.

But she really hadn’t known how deeply these feelings were inside of her, weaving together in her very bones it felt like, until this moment.

She’d, obviously, felt them this weekend.

But it wasn’t until she’d had to own up to her feelings for Sutton under the scrutiny of her grandmother that it became very clear to Charlotte: these feelings weren’t going to go gently into the night.

Even if Sutton quit and they never saw one another ever again, Charlotte’s feelings wouldn’t leave her. And she had no idea the next time she’d meet someone who made her feel like there was… something else. Something more.

She didn’t yet know what that more was, but she knew that she – she wanted to.

“I know it’s not a defense. But I didn’t plan this. And I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She quickly, sharply, turned to face her grandmother as she hurriedly added, “I’m not going to come out, not yet. Not any time in the planned horizon.”

That much she knew for sure.

Still, she sighed. “But she doesn’t need me to come out to explore… us.”

She tasted the word on her tongue. She’d never been part of an us before, and it felt so incredibly strange.

But nothing inside of her objected to it.

She felt a strong jolt of anxiety lance through her, undeniably, but she didn’t dislike it. Well, she disliked the anxiety, but not the notion of being an us with Sutton, in some definition.

“And she’s quitting her job,” she added on, feeling that was a vital piece of relevant information for her grandmother to consider. “Not because of me. That is – I didn’t fire her. I would never–”

Her grandmother squeezed her hand again, tighter this time, and she didn’t immediately let go. “I know you would never do that.”

Charlotte was able to take that as a small relief, at the very least.

She looked at her grandmother again, noting the furrow in between her eyebrows, the way her lips were ever so slightly ticked down.

Elizabeth met and held her gaze in the same firm way she grasped her hand. “I do apologize, my dear girl, for making you feel as though I was not looking at this as your grandmother.” She huffed out an impatient breath, seemingly impatient at herself. “That was a terrible apology. Let me re-phrase: I apologize for not viewing this, first and foremost, as your grandmother. I… unfortunately find myself fallible at times, as well.”

There was a self-recrimination in her grandmother’s words that Charlotte had never heard before, one that put a temporary pause on the other emotions rocking through her.

Elizabeth’s lips were pursed tightly. “Though it might be difficult for you to believe in this moment given my response, I do want you to be happy, Charlotte. In your personal life, as well as your professional one. Very much.”

“I know you do.” Because she did know it, even if her grandmother was not a warm and fuzzy type of person. Charlotte knew her grandmother loved her, as deeply as she loved anyone.

Elizabeth sighed, waving her hand through the air. “I suppose it’s simply that… you’ve never expressed interest in a romantic pursuit like this.”

Charlotte’s heart did that Sutton-inspired flutter in her chest, as she confirmed quietly, “No. I haven’t.”

“Yes, well.” It was painstakingly apparent that her grandmother felt uncomfortable right now.

Maybe not to many other people, but Charlotte could see it clear as day. And she was slightly mystified.

She’d never seen her grandmother appear anything less than perfectly in control.

She supposed this shouldn’t surprise her, given Charlotte’s own lack of comfort in expression emotional depths. She did, after all, model so much – both consciously and subconsciously – after her.

Elizabeth lightened her grip and gently but comfortingly patted her hand – Charlotte’s fists had gone slack under her – before nodding, obviously putting herself back into a comfortable equilibrium. “I’m afraid that this is an area in which I’m slightly out of my depth. I can’t advise you on the best approach here, I truly can’t. All I can say is that… your sexuality isn’t wrong. You know that, I know that. We also both know you are far from the first person to begin a relationship from a… less than ideal place. But we both also unfortunately know that it will be more complicated for you to manage as both a woman and a lesbian if this goes public. Even if the Spencer girl has left your employ.”

She nodded, finding the words easy to accept because it was precisely the same thing she’d been haunted by for the last few hours.

The last few days.

Truly, the last couple of months. Since she’d felt the very beginning of anything toward Sutton.

“I know. Which is what makes this so complicated,” she muttered, shaking her hair back. And scary. But she didn’t feel like voicing that to her grandmother right now, as they were both grappling with… well, emotions.

Elizabeth was quiet for several long moments, turning her attention out to the water in the distance.

When she spoke, she continued staring out at the lake. “If you feel this strongly about it – about her – then I believe, Charlotte, that we both know what you’re going to do.” Finally, she turned her stare back to Charlotte’s. “You’ve already ended up here.” She lifted her hand, gesturing to the house behind them. “If this isn’t proof enough that denying yourself this connection you feel isn’t going to go very well for you, I don’t know what is.”

Charlotte sat heavily back in her chair, her eyes wide. She couldn’t help but point out, “The last thing I expected from this conversation was you – in any way – agreeing with my continuing this.”

Elizabeth slowly nodded, her lips in a thoughtful frown. “It’s the last thing I imagined, as well.”

Unbidden, laughter broke from Charlotte’s lips, encouraged by the way her grandmother’s mouth quirked into a grin. Silly, incredulous laughter, really, that made her feel a bit crazed.

Because this entire situation was… a little crazy to her. For her. But it didn’t change the fact that it was the situation she was in.

And that it was her choice to continue it.

***

She’d only had Sutton at her apartment that one time, on Caleb’s birthday.

And that night felt like some sort of fever dream when she thought back on it. They’d both been drinking, and Sutton had been reeling from discovering Regan and Emma…

It wasn’t the same as this.

Charlotte felt like she was buzzing on the inside with an energy that couldn’t completely quiet down. It was unsettling, something she’d never experienced before, as she took a deep breath and opened the door to her apartment as soon as Sutton knocked.

Even though she’d seen Sutton only earlier today, she felt greedy for the very sight of her.

Her long, gorgeous hair was in a braid that she’d tugged over her shoulder, her face devoid of makeup, and she was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a thin t-shirt. Very much the epitome of the version of Sutton Charlotte had spent the weekend with, not the Sutton she knew from the office.

In spite of the nerves and the uncertainty that she couldn’t quite get rid of no matter how much she wished it were that easy, the excitement that reverberated through her at having Sutton here, in front of her again, overshadowed it. By far.

So… that really did answer that question for her, didn’t it? The question of if she really wanted this, enough to continue forward even when they were back in real life.

Even so, real life did not mean in her hallway.

Getting a hold of herself, she took a step back. “Come in.”

Sutton gave her a small smile as she stepped through the doorway, one that Charlotte could see was riddled with nerves. “I… I was surprised that you texted me so soon,” she admitted.

Charlotte hesitated for only a moment before taking Sutton’s hand and leading her into the living room. Reveling in the touch, as she knew she would – hence the momentary hesitation.

She couldn’t quite reconcile how good this felt with how terrifying it was, not yet.

“I was, as well,” she agreed, giving Sutton a self-deprecating grin over her shoulder. “And perhaps I could have been a bit more coy,” she acknowledged, “Rather than texting you as soon as I’d returned home, asking to see you tonight.”

They came to a pause once they were firmly in Charlotte’s apartment, away from the door.

Sutton glanced down at their hands, the cutest blush tinging at her cheeks as she rolled her eyes. “Well, I did surprise you this weekend and strip down so… I think you can consider it safe to say no matter what, I’m the, um, less coy of the two of us. If that comforts you.”

“I wouldn’t say it comforts me,” she drawled, feeling herself shiver at the memory.

God, would that ever leave her mind? The mental image of Sutton, soaking wet from the rain, stripped down nearly entirely bare to Charlotte for the first time in the middle of the room?

She hoped not. In fact, right at this moment, she hoped it would be one of the last images she saw before she died. If her life flashed before her eyes, what a perfect image to extinguish on.

“The thing is, darling, I’m not a very coy person,” she owned, easily. No shame in that. “You may not know this about me, given our… start,” she murmured, dropping her eyes to Sutton’s lips. Licking her own, at the mere thought of tasting Sutton again. Soon. “But when it comes to personal matters, I find it best to be direct.”

Sutton’s teeth bit into her lip, and – yes, Charlotte was already warming to the heady feeling Sutton called to inside of her. So very much. “I don’t – that doesn’t surprise me,” Sutton’s voice was hoarse and quiet.

Causing Charlotte to shiver again.

But she remained focused; she’d thought about this the entire drive back into the city, and she had to voice her thoughts into the world before anything else.

Sutton took a long, deep breath, her eyebrows furrowing in obvious consternation, as she gripped a little tighter at Charlotte’s hand. “I, uh, I have–”

Charlotte cut her off, shaking her head. “I apologize for interrupting you, but I have…” She paused, needing to clear her throat with the way her nerves made a reappearance, the way they had over the weekend but she’d managed to bite them back. To lose herself in not thinking about what would come after. Now, it was the after, and she needed to face this – face Sutton – head-on. “I’ve spent hours thinking over what you said before you left, earlier.”

She searched Sutton’s eyes with her own, hoping Sutton could see plainly that Charlotte wasn’t merely saying that; that she meant it.

“Not only about the lack of regret, but in regards to being kept a secret. And I agree with you.”

The deep line between Sutton’s brows, the way she was obviously holding back whatever it was she’d intended to say a moment ago, disappeared, those blue eyes widening. “You do?”

“I do,” she stated, and… it felt good. Even if she didn’t know what she was doing in this context, she knew her grandmother was right: Charlotte was already in too deep. “You and I exploring what we are to one another can be private, while not being a secret.”

She couldn’t bring herself to refer to Sutton as a dirty little secret, because that would never be her intention, ever.

Sutton’s lips parted slightly, clearly shocked.

“I don’t know if I enjoy being the cause of this very cute surprised look on your face, or if I’m affronted that you apparently believed I wouldn’t come to that conclusion,” she mused, wrestling with if she wanted to smirk or frown.

Confounding.

Sutton shook her head. “No, it’s not… I mean, yes, I guess I didn’t think you’d end up agreeing with me so, um, easily?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Charlotte corrected, firmly. Staring up at Sutton, unwavering. “I might have gotten there quickly, but… it wasn’t easy. Because this–”

She cut herself off, inhaling deeply. Summoning her strength, summoning the ability to be brave in the way Sutton was brave. In being vulnerable.

“This is not easy for me. You…” She trailed off, reaching up with her free hand to reverently trace her fingertips over the ends of Sutton’s braid. She had the softest hair, and Charlotte really didn’t think she was capable of going back to where they’d been just last week. In a place where she couldn’t do something like reach out and touch Sutton so freely. “You are terrifying to me. I am not a gambler, Sutton, so taking a gamble with my future plans the way they are is – entirely unfamiliar territory.”

Her heart started pounding harder, faster, with every word she spoke in her confession.

But she desperately needed for Sutton to understand where she was coming from, if at any point in time she wasn’t quite where Sutton wished she could be.

“Charlotte, if anything, I’m the one who should be terrified of you,” Sutton said, her eyebrows high on her forehead, looking as though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss Charlotte or if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Sutton wasn’t joking, Charlotte realized after a beat. Her mouth dropped open with her own confusion. “You are the one who showed up to find me, to pursue me! You’re the one who stripped down to nothing in front of me, and began this.”

“I know,” Sutton acknowledged, her eyes boring into Charlotte’s with that laser-focus. “But you’re the one who doesn’t have intimate relationships, or have sexual partners that you have any real feelings for. You’re Charlotte Thompson,” she emphasized, shaking her head, a mystified chuckle escaping her. “You’re this woman that anyone would want. And I’m one of many people that have fallen into you, however unintentionally.”

Charlotte frowned, deeply, her stomach twisting in revolt at Sutton’s words.

Nothing was technically inaccurate, really, but she didn’t like it.

And then she caught on one thing – “You said that you should be terrified of me?”

Sutton nodded, slowly. Her eyes had gone so soft, the way she had when she was looking at Charlotte like she was capable of hanging the fucking moon. “I should be. Because I have the distinct feeling that, if we continue this, I’m going to fall more in love with you than I imagined humanly possible,” she whispered.

Charlotte had never felt this feeling before. This one that started in her stomach, in the very core of her being, and radiated outward, like it filled every limb and made her feel unbearably light.

The very idea of someone confessing that they could possibly fall in love with her in the past was – it wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare.

But she could only imagine what it would be, to be loved by Sutton Spencer in that way.

Yes.

Fucking terrifying.

“I’m not afraid, though,” Sutton continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want this too much.”

Charlotte’s breath escaped her in a whoosh, still feeling that lightness, because yes, that was precisely how this felt.

She closed her eyes briefly. Just for a moment. Just taking this in.

This was happening. They were doing this. They –

“But, there’s something I, um, I have to tell you.” Sutton’s voice wobbled, there.

And Charlotte snapped her eyes back open, on high-alert.

That was the kind of wobble that wasn’t about nerves or something meaningless; that was a very serious sound.

The look on Sutton’s face mirrored that seriousness. As did the way she was clutching at Charlotte’s hand, tighter than before.

Despite Sutton just saying she wasn’t afraid, that she wanted this, Charlotte had the stomach-sinking revelation that there was something else at play, here. Even if Sutton had meant what she’d said, there was obviously something not as positive marring whatever Sutton had going on in her mind.

“What is it?” She pushed, needing to know before this conversation went any further. Swallowing tightly, she asked, “Is there something you’ve… changed your mind about?”

Had Sutton decided she couldn’t be with Charlotte while Charlotte was closeted to the public? Had she –

“No!” Sutton was so quick to say, she seemed to propel herself slightly forward with the strength of it. She pushed in closer to Charlotte, shaking her head. “No,” she repeated. “It’s not about me… necessarily. It’s, it’s about my parents.”

And then she paused, even though she’d taken another breath. Like she didn’t know how to say what it was, and she sounded so conflicted – so pained? Unsure? – that everything inside of Charlotte immediately switched to comfort-mode.

Not something she accessed so easily, but she found it remarkably simple to do with Sutton.

She gently slid her hand from Sutton’s so she could reach up and place both of her hands on Sutton’s arms, just above her elbows, rubbing soothingly over her soft skin. “What happened with your parents, darling?”

“Nothing. Technically,” Sutton answered after another moment, clearing her throat and meeting Charlotte’s gaze, steadily. But Charlotte could see the raw nerves reflected back at her. “Except for the fact that they’re going to be in New York in ten days. Because they’re going to Senator Armstrong’s dinner.”

Charlotte continued to stroke her hands over Sutton’s skin in gentle movements for a few seconds before the realization of what Sutton was saying settled in over her. And with it, her hands stilled.

“Your parents… are going to be at the same dinner that I’ll be at. In ten days. The dinner that you were going to attend with me, as my assistant,” she drawled, walking over the details in her mind as she registered them aloud.

Sutton swallowed hard. “Um. Yes. That’s correct.”

And this – this was precisely the kind of feeling that she tried to organize her life to avoid. This sinking in the pit of her stomach, this… fear.

Sutton’s parents were in her world. They were connected. And how would they feel if Charlotte was sleeping with their daughter? She felt very certain that the semantics of Sutton verbally quitting just before they had sex… wouldn’t really matter all that much to the Spencers.

Charlotte rolled her lips, trying to ward off those feelings, as she slid her hands from Sutton, bringing one up and pinched at the bridge of her nose. “I suppose your parents would likely find it odd that you’d no longer be working for me? I can’t imagine that you’ve told them that there’s even a remote possibility of you quitting in the last couple of weeks?”

Charlotte’s gaze searched Sutton’s, and her stomach sank even lower as Sutton slowly shook her head in confirmation. Those big, blue eyes were wide and worried, and Charlotte – even now – had to take a moment to marvel at how perfectly expressive Sutton was.

“Uh, no. I definitely haven’t expressed any desire to quit to them.” Sutton winced, deeply, her expression crumpling. “In fact, it’s kind of been the opposite. I mean, I – I really didn’t think this would be a possibility, you know? Until so recently. I’ve told them for months about how much I’ve loved working with you, about how incredible you are, and… they’re going to be so confused when I tell them I’ve quit.”

The words tumbled from Sutton’s mouth so quickly, like she’d been ruminating on them for quite some time and couldn’t hold them back any longer.

“And,” Sutton worried at her bottom lip, before she blew out a deep breath. “They’re going to want to know why I’m not working for you anymore. When they’re in town, if my employment situation changes, they’re – it’s – I mean, it’s not going to be… great.”

“So… your parents will be staring at me, suspiciously, throughout the evening,” Charlotte surmised, folding her arms over her stomach.

It didn’t help quell the knots that had settled there, not at all.

“Ah, yes… and… there’s a chance that my mom might do more than stare,” Sutton seemed reluctant to say.

But with Sutton’s tone, Charlotte could tell that by “a chance” Sutton was saying that it was more than likely that Katherine would approach Charlotte to chat.

Which was – lovely.

“I wanted to tell you before you – well, before you’d said those beautiful things to me. But you didn’t want me to interrupt, so I didn’t, and…” Sutton trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about this. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than – than you,” she stumbled slightly over her words.

Charlotte didn’t know what it said about her that even now, amidst this minor bomb dropped on her, that she felt the warmth of that confession slide right through her. Which she desperately needed, an anchor to grab onto.

That she had the ability to feel consumed by Sutton, even taking precedence over something like this…

It was a lot.

“It’s not your fault,” she stated, firmly, feeling that solidify in place inside of her.

This situation was far from ideal. But she didn’t need nor did she want Sutton tripping over herself to apologize for it.

Sutton’s eyebrows lifted high on her forehead, shaking her head. “Um, no. It is, and I–”

“Sutton,” she interrupted, a little forcefully, just enough for Sutton to see that she was serious. “You did not make me do anything. If you’d told me about your parents going to that dinner when you came to the cabin…”

She mentally put herself in that situation; it, alarmingly, wasn’t very difficult.

“I would have done the same thing,” she had to admit.

Charlotte had to be honest with herself. If nothing else, she had to do that.

And she knew that her self-control wouldn’t have extended beyond the moment it totally snapped. In no world, no way, no how.

Even more than that, she thought about her conversation with her grandmother. No, she hadn’t appreciated the angle her grandmother had come from. But she hadn’t been wrong, and Charlotte would not be like someone else in her position who made excuses for herself.

Seeing this from that perspective, somehow, made her feel… calm. Strangely so.

Rolling her shoulders back, she looked Sutton in the eye. “I’m a grown woman, Sutton. You quitting your job… is semantics, at this point. I met you and was attracted to you and very much wanted to act on that while you were my assistant.”

It didn’t make her feel great to think about. But she’d spent so much time – months now – trying to dance around it, trying to make herself feel better about it, all because she hadn’t acted on those feelings.

But she had acted, now.

And she wouldn’t want to change it.

“I take responsibility for my own actions. I wanted you. I still,” she paused, unable to help herself from dragging her eyes down Sutton’s body. “Want you.” Managing a deep breath, and a little self-indulgent smile, she looked back at Sutton’s face. “So, I won’t have you apologize.”

There was a light blush on Sutton’s face and her eyes were a little darker, and she’d licked her lips in a way that had Charlotte starting to burn up inside.

“I,” Sutton cleared her throat. “I thought – well, I figured… maybe I work for you. For two more weeks. Like. Maybe we count this weekend as my giving you a two weeks’ notice?”

An incredulous laugh bubbled up in her throat. “Two weeks’ notice?!”

She’d fucked her assistant, but it was okay because she’d given two weeks’ notice.

Dear god.

Sutton surged forward, holding her hands up, “Hear me out. I know it’s… I know it muddies the waters. I know.”

It certainly did.

“But I would still be quitting. Even if we put in some sort of – of paperwork tomorrow? And I just won’t mention it to my parents. And I’ll still go to the dinner with you, as your assistant, and they’ll be none the wiser. And then… it’ll be over. And I’ll quit.”

Was Charlotte too far gone for Sutton, or did it somewhat make sense?

“And what will you tell them when they go home, and you no longer are working for me?” She pressed.

Sutton opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Instead, she tossed her hands into the air. “I don’t know, to be totally honest. But I… for the first time, I’m not really that concerned about it. About what I’ll tell them, or what comes next.”

Charlotte knew she shouldn’t feel a rush through her veins at the abandon in Sutton’s words, at the look in her eyes.

But… she did.

Sutton wasn’t the same as she was; she didn’t have her life trajectory planned the same way Charlotte did. But Charlotte knew how much Sutton fretted over what her life would look like, and she absolutely wanted her parents to be proud of her.

It wasn’t that Charlotte didn’t want that for Sutton. But it was a balm she hadn’t quite known she needed, seeing that Sutton felt the same way she did. That this was still intense and big for her, but that she wanted it even if there was risk involved.

“Regan is the only one who knows about us. Well. And Emma,” Sutton added, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. “And they’re the only ones that I know I quit–”

“You told Regan you quit?”

Sutton really had been very busy in the last few hours.

“No,” Sutton rolled her eyes so hard, Charlotte couldn’t help but smile. “She apparently theorized it herself, after she saw you in the back of the FaceTime this morning. That’s how she’d talked herself into making it all make sense. That I quit, so I could…”

“Seduce me,” she supplied with a smirk.

Sutton reeled back, her mouth falling open in shock. “Seduce you?!”

Charlotte folded her arms over her chest. “What else would you call it? Seeking me out, stripping down in front of me, telling me how much you wanted me…”

Sutton’s perfect, soft lips were parted and a look of wonder crossed over her face. “I seduced you.”

“You did,” Charlotte confirmed.

Frankly, it was a little mystifying to her, as well. Charlotte had never been so thoroughly seduced in her life as she’d been by Sutton Spencer. In every way.

An undeniably pleased, small smile played at Sutton’s mouth, which Charlotte found entirely too endearing. “Well, then.” Sutton nodded, seemingly getting herself back on track. “I really think it’s the best option. Just – putting a pause on this. Us. For two more weeks.”

It honestly was a little painful for Charlotte to imagine, not having her hands or mouth on Sutton again for two weeks, not feeling her body against her own. And then she rolled her eyes at herself, because she’d gone for a lot longer than that without having Sutton, before.

And it didn’t seem as though Sutton was very happy about that prospect, either.

“I suppose,” she sighed out, “It might make the most sense. Although, for the record, Regan and Emma aren’t the only ones who know. My grandmother does, too.”

If they were doing this, she wanted them to be doing this with everything out in the open.

And somehow, somewhere along the way, Sutton had become the person she wanted to talk to about everything, anyway.

Sutton’s shock was evident, etched into her face. “She does?”

Charlotte had never heard Sutton seem so baffled, so completely bowled over.

“Yes. She does,” Charlotte confirmed, thinking over their conversation, over where to begin in sharing with Sutton.

Only for all of her thoughts to scatter, as Sutton closed the small distance between them, and wrapped her arms around Charlotte’s waist, pulling her in as she dipped her head to Charlotte’s.

She’d gasped in surprised, gripping Sutton’s arms for balance, even as she tilted her head up to meet Sutton’s lips. She’d had Sutton’s kiss just earlier today, and still, she’d craved it. Still, she wanted this so damn much.

Charlotte had learned that Sutton, despite her appearances and her little blushing and rambling moments, didn’t really want or need direction. When she kissed Charlotte, when she touched Charlotte, Sutton was sometimes a little hesitant, but grew in confidence so quickly every time.

And Charlotte had learned something even more shocking about herself: she enjoyed it.

She fucking liked when Sutton took control over the kiss, when Sutton decided the rhythm between them. She’d never want that – and would never allow that – in the past, not with anyone. But with Sutton, it was different.

The way she kissed Charlotte was all-encompassing, and this was no different.

Sutton kissed her so purposefully, so intently, she felt fueled by it. She felt alive.

Charlotte hadn’t realized Sutton’s intensity had propelled them into movement until she felt her knees hit her couch, and she went down onto it, grabbing Sutton’s hips as she did, needing to ensure that Sutton moved with her.

She wasn’t ready to break their kiss, to have this moment over.

Sutton straddled her seamlessly, both of her hands coming up to brace herself on either side of Charlotte’s head as she pressed herself down onto Charlotte’s lap.

Charlotte angled her head back, reaching up to tangle one of her hands into Sutton’s hair, loosening it from her braid. Sutton took direction as well as she gave it, moving her talented, ravenous mouth to Charlotte’s neck.

“No sex,” she rasped out, the heat in her veins at-odds with her statement.

Sutton did lift her head, then, her eyes dark and needy, her lips a little swollen as she looked down at Charlotte.

She felt herself clench, biting back a groan.

But – no. She could do this. She would be strong.  

“No sex,” she repeated herself, sliding her hands down to grasp at Sutton’s thighs through her jeans.

Sutton’s lips parted on a thready breath.

“If you’re working for me come tomorrow morning, we can’t. You said it yourself – we will have to take a break.”

Sutton blinked down at her. “Right,” she finally murmured.

“And this,” she squeezed Sutton’s perfectly lithely muscular thighs again. More for taking her own fill than for Sutton. “This is the last time we’ll be doing anything until then.”

It physically pained her to say the words, even more because of how much she meant them. But they had to abide by that. Charlotte had to be able to keep a clear conscience in some possible way, even if it was very much by dodgy semantics.

“Then, I guess we should make it count?” Sutton murmured.

And before Charlotte could formulate a reply, Sutton’s mouth was on hers again.

Making it count, indeed.

This was a gamble. It was the biggest gamble she’d ever taken, the biggest one she could imagine taking.

But… what if it paid off?

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