Desperate. Dirty. Raw.
Somewhere deep under the crushing ecstasy of his thrusts she knew this wasn't a healthy way to fuck-like trying to screw your way through someone's skin. Trying to hold onto something so mindlessly that you lose yourself. That you sink and drown. But they were both lost, neither one themselves. Both holding on so tightly, with hands, mouths and bodies.
Every touch on her skin, every stroke inside her became amplified by her rushing pulse, by the naked emotion swamping her. She shattered with a pulsing orgasm, dug her nails into his shoulders and cried into his mouth. He squeezed her ass in his hands and delivered his most punishing thrusts, deep enough to hit her limits. His tongue moved in her mouth and his body jerked. Her back batted against the wall. He spurted hot and deep inside her, filled her with warmth, with peace.
He twitched, circled his hips against her. One hand moved to her face, smoothed hair back from her cheeks. His kisses slowed but didn't stop. She stroked his shoulders, not wanting this to end, not wanting real life to intrude.
The door shook next to her shoulder and he pulled back, breaking the kiss.
"Hello?"
Charlie blinked and looked at Connor. The pleading look on his face told her not to let go. Her feet slid to the floor.
"Someone in there?"
That was Lia's voice.
A lump rose in her throat, made it impossible to swallow. She pushed on Connor's chest and slid out from between him and the wall. His hot cum seeped from between her thighs, moistened her panties and the edges of her torn stockings. She tugged her dress down. The muscles between her ribs felt squashed, as if a belt cinched across her torso.
Nothing had changed. It didn't matter how much you wanted someone if they were prepared to lie to you-betray you. No matter how much you wanted to believe in the excuse. She'd learned the hard way before what happens when you can't believe the person you're with.
He can't be trusted.
She reached a shaky hand for the door handle and glanced at Connor. He leaned against the wall, rubbed his hands over his scalp. She flicked the latch and the door flew open.
Lia stared at her. "Charlie? What's-?" She stopped, her face contracting as she gazed at Charlie. "Are you alright?"
She rubbed her arms, stepped around Lia then ran as fast as her heals allowed back to her office.
"Charlie?"
Melanie stood in the doorway. "You okay?"
She nodded. Sure. If a steaming pile of self-doubt and agony, could be considered okay. "Yeah."
"You're a mess." Melanie stepped in shutting the door behind her.
She smoothed her hair. There'd been nothing she could do about her face, she'd cried off her makeup. Her hair, she'd tried to re-tame. She'd thrown her stockings and underwear in the bin and told herself she could-would make it through the rest of the day.
"Didn't sleep last night." That at least was completely true.
Melanie came to her desk, and took the seat opposite her. "Well I'm afraid what I'm about to tell you isn't going to improve your day."
Shit.
Really? What more could go wrong? "Just lay it on me, Mel."
Melanie sighed and handed her a single paper.
Charlie stared at it. A printout from a popular news outlet.
"Halifax Communications-how an Heiress is bringing an end to an empire."
"You've got to be kidding me." She stared at the page dumbstruck.
"An inside source reveals that Ms. Halifax today pushed through yet another closure-"
What? Her stomach churned.
"-the source claims that since Ms. Halifax took up the position of President, Halifax Communications has been operating at increasing losses. He claims recent decisions have been knee-jerk reactions, based on inexperience, and a troubling sign of things to come."
She glanced up at Melanie, her head spinning. "How do we find out who's saying this?"
"We can't, I already tried." Her delicate features twisted. "I'm so sorry. I know this is the last thing you need. I've already prepared a statement."
Charlie held her forehead.
"And a plan of attack. We'll get you out at a few of our regional sites, get some photos taken-"
"It's not going to do any good, the damage has been done." She leaned back. Her energy flowed out like someone had pulled a plug out of her belly. "The longer I stay here the worse it's going to be for Halifax."
"What are you suggesting?"
"Maybe I should just give everyone what they want and leave." Her hands curled in her lap. "Maybe everyone would be better off … "
Maybe leaving would be her best contribution to the company.
"Charlie." Melanie leaned across the desk. "You can't let them get you like this."
"I'm so tired of fighting. As much as I love this company, I've brought nothing good to it." She pressed a fist to her stomach. "Every day I wake up, and it's all I can do to make myself get out of bed. I have this sick feeling in my middle the entire way here."
Melanie slid back. "But you put in the longest hours, you're so dedicated, and you're saying you don't really want to be here?"
She met Melanie's gaze slowly. Her friend was amazing at her job, committed to Halifax, and would give just about anything to be sitting in her chair.
"I do, I am dedicated. This place means the world to me … " She flattened her palm on her belly. "But, valuing what you do and actually enjoying it are not the same thing."
Her gaze slipped to the desk. Shit, did she just sat that? Wouldn't Frank just love to hear this.
"Well, that's not something I ever thought you'd say. But I'm glad that you did. Because you deserve to be happy." Melanie shifted, staring at her. "Which is why you can't let these assholes win."
She leaned back. "Then what do you suggest I do?"
"You get to the bottom of this, Charlie. You'll never forgive yourself if you just pack up and give up. You've got to see it through." Melanie smiled. "Then if you fuck off, you do it on your own terms, not because you've been elbowed out."
She leaned across the desk, and squeezed Melanie's hand. "Is it really fair that you should have all the brains and the beauty?"
Melanie shrugged, and withdrew her hand. "I'd settle for all the money and power."
Charlie laughed, then let out a long sigh. "So what next?"
"Well right now, why don't you come out with the girls for drinks?"
Charlie glanced at her phone. It was long past knock-off time. Any other day she may have made an excuse to stay back, that feeling of never being able to do enough, achieve enough, encroaching over everything else. "That sounds perfect."
Four hours later she opened her front door and went inside. If Connor had followed her tonight, she hadn't glimpsed him. Part of her wished she'd look over her shoulder and he'd be sitting at a table.
Part of her imagined that she'd take a ten dollar bill and try to buy a kiss from him. Start all over again. She locked the door behind her and toed off her shoes. Her aching arches pressed deliciously into the cool floorboards. She flexed her toes and winced. Too long in heels.
She scrolled through the notifications popping up on social media, where the girls had tagged her in photos. Tagging her again when they checked into the bar. She hadn't realized they were doing that. To be honest she used social media so rarely she forgot that was a thing people did. Probably not the best practice for someone currently inundated with hate mail and death threats.
She wandered into the kitchen. A large, pink box on the counter halted her. Her heart flipped. Someone had been in her house …
She licked her lips and looked around. The house was quiet-that still, airless kind of silence. Charlie shook her head. Probably Connor. He had a spare key. She tugged at the ends of a bountiful white bow. The ribbon cascaded over the marble countertop.
She pulled off the lid.
Her stomach lifted, and a smile broke over her. Tiny baked goods. The sugary scent hit her, almost making her moan. Little donuts with colorful sprinkles. Mini cupcakes. Tiny cookies. She picked up a cupcake, icing piped as decorative as a full sized princess cupcake.
He'd remembered what she'd told him. Memories absolutely no one else knew about.
What the hell am I going to do about you, Connor Crowe?
She peeled off the paper, sank her teeth into the cupcake, and ate the whole thing. Then licked her fingers the way she had as a kid. Nostalgia hit her, making her chest ache. She slid her phone closer like it might snap her fingers, then flicked through her contact and dialed.
The phone clicked in her ear.
She took a long breath. "Hi, Mom."
"Charlie?" Her mother's voice washed down the line. "Is everything okay, it's late?"
"Everything is fine, I thought it'd be okay to call. I know you never sleep." But her throat ached. That's not what her mom really meant. She wasn't concerned because she'd called late- she was concerned because Charlie never called unless it was a special occasion.