by Haley Cass
Christ. She tugged the robe tighter around her body, narrowing her eyes at him. This was dangerously approaching what Charlotte would think of as the damage control stage, and she very much wanted to keep it in the preventative measures stage.
So she sighed and nodded – because it wasn’t as though she was ashamed of her sexual history, which both Caleb and Dean knew all about, or at all ashamed of Sutton. Perhaps she was a bit wary of the men in her life finding out that she’d slept with Sutton, especially because of Caleb’s dogged insistence that she couldn’t manage to keep her as only a friend, but still.
She didn’t need these boundaries to cross, not when this was a one-time thing. Certainly not when she was positive that Sutton wouldn’t want them to know.
“Yes, fine, I do have someone here. You’re right; I have been stressed and I needed a release.” Okay, so she still needed a release, but that was neither here nor there. “So, goodbye and good night. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dean.”
Despite their teasing grins, she knew she had them both ready to leave, and she let out a sigh of relief as she brought her hand up to run through her hair.
Until she heard her bedroom door open behind her, and she closed her eyes tightly. This was definitely damage control time and she straightened her spine as she opened her eyes again. Just in time to see Caleb’s kid-on-Christmas-morning smile – damn him – and the wide-eyed surprise on Dean’s face.
She turned to face Sutton as well. Who had put on her dress again, the tiniest bit off-center, and her heels had been thrown back on with the straps haphazardly done up. All of that gorgeous red hair was so clearly mussed and Sutton had thrown it into a quick ponytail.
Seeing her made it very easy for Charlotte to want to make her turn around and go back into her room – into her bed – and make her come all over again. Which had been the plan, but now . . .
Sutton stared back at the three of them, first freezing upon seeing Dean and Caleb, before blushing the deepest red Charlotte had ever seen. “I – I, um. I was just leaving.”
Baffled, Charlotte vehemently shook her head.
“No, they’re going.” She was careful to keep her voice low and controlled; she didn’t want Sutton to read the annoyance in her tone that she had for the men in her life and think it was directed at her.
But Sutton either didn’t hear her or was ignoring her. She walked right by the group of them, averting her eyes to the floor, heading right for the door. Charlotte shot both Caleb and Dean a warning look, because if they said or did anything else that made Sutton panic, she swore there would be hell to pay.
She quickly followed. “Sutton, wait –”
The look on Sutton’s face wasn’t one she could place exactly, but she knew in the way that Sutton wouldn’t meet her gaze and the way stormy blue eyes watered slightly that there was a lot going on. She was somewhat gifted at reading expressions, especially on Sutton’s face because she was so unguarded. But all she could see was distress that she knew hadn’t been there earlier.
The concern she felt well up inside of her superseded everything else. “What happened?”
Something had to have happened between when she’d taken her last look at Sutton in her bed and now, right? Or maybe it was everything, all catching up to her. Damn it, Charlotte hated not knowing.
But Sutton looked at her, up and down her body, before her blush only intensified and she shook her head quickly. “I’m – I have to go, Charlotte. I’m sorry.”
Only, she didn’t sound like she was apologizing strictly for leaving, and the feeling in Charlotte’s stomach intensified into one of foreboding. Fuck it all, she’d known she shouldn’t have done this. She’d known it, and still she’d done it, anyway.
Sutton reached for the doorknob and jerked the door open, mumbling, “I just… need to go home.”
“Just stay here until you’re less upset. It’s late.” She spoke softly, in the most calming tone she possessed.
Because maybe if she could get Sutton to stop and calm down, the anxiety she was sure Sutton was feeling would go away enough that they could handle it.
But Sutton already pulled the door closed behind her.
Chapter 11
Saturdays were typically a very productive day for Sutton. She’d always been an early riser by nature, so she usually made a nice breakfast. Went for a run, if the weather was nice. Got through all of her homework, including assignments that she needed to grade for Professor Martin. Did all of the shopping that needed to be done for the apartment, and the cleaning. Hung out with Regan, sometimes Emma, or Alex, when her sister was here.
Today . . . today, Sutton didn’t think she was going to leave her bed at all. How could she?
With a groan, Sutton wiggled slightly deeper into the swaddle of blankets she’d wrapped around her through the night to try to comfort herself. She’d hardly slept a wink – two hours total, if that – and had spent the remainder of her time doing exactly what she was doing right now.
Staring up at her ceiling and wondering what in the hell was wrong with her?
Even just thinking about the night before made her want to crawl into a hole and die, because how could she have done that? How could she have practically begged Charlotte into agreeing to sleeping with her?
Sutton hadn’t thought of it like that at the time. She hadn’t connected the dots until after Charlotte had gotten out of the bed after . . . everything.
But there she’d been, completely naked in Charlotte’s bed. Naked and feeling better than almost any time ever in her entire life, because Sutton had never experienced sex like that before. She was completely satisfied and sated, her body had felt like she could melt right into the mattress below. Supine and lax, with a fire still burning inside of her. Like, she wanted more; like she would always want more.
Sex had never been like that for her before. Even though it sometimes wasn’t a necessarily bad experience, it had never been mind-blowing. She’d never before felt so thoroughly out of control before. She’d never lost herself so much in pleasure that she’d asked for more. Harder.
She’d thought that Charlotte would be amazing in bed, and she was. Sutton had been stripped bare, laid out, and thoroughly debauched. For the first few minutes after Charlotte had left the room, all she could do was revel in the feeling of it all.
It was after that, when she’d been in the room alone long enough to gather her thoughts, that she’d been able to see beyond her side of things and see what the night had really been.
Which was, for lack of a better word, pathetic.
Rather, she was pathetic.
Because in retrospect, it was all very clear: Charlotte hadn’t responded favorably to her suggestion that they sleep together, at all. In fact, she’d tried to talk Sutton out of it, more than once. She’d only kissed her when Sutton had been on the verge of a total panic.
And then she had made Sutton feel so, so good, just like she’d promised to her in that whisper that had made Sutton’s pulse go through the roof. But she’d done so while being fully clothed. Okay so, she’d taken off her shirt – Sutton had to ask! – but even then, she had still been wearing her bra.
Then there was that whole moving Sutton’s hands off of her and placing them on the pillow thing. She’d only just managed to muster up enough courage and clarity of mind that Charlotte had been right there and on top of her and shirtless, and was hers to touch for the night when she’d tentatively stroked her hands up the older woman’s smooth, lithely muscled back. And then Charlotte’s hands had tugged hers away, off of her.
Which had made Sutton unhappy, but she’d forgotten it quickly, because then Charlotte was touching her and building her up and making her come, amazingly, twice. As soon as possible, though, Charlotte had climbed off of her and then had scooted away to the other side of the bed.
She knew Charlotte cared about her – it had been clear in everything that had happened between them last night. The way she’d touched her, the way s
he’d taken care of her – and that was why she’d done what Sutton had asked at all. Probably because she was worried she’d hurt Sutton’s feelings if she’d continued to say no.
And, well, it would have hurt. But Sutton didn’t think it would be as humiliating as realizing that the woman who had given you the best orgasms of your life didn’t want you back.
The facts had stared right at Sutton when she’d managed to think clearly at all. The fact that she was in Charlotte’s bed, and Charlotte, by her own proclamation, liked to use sex as stress relief, but she hadn’t wanted to do it with Sutton.
Because if she had wanted to, Sutton didn’t know how much clearer she could have been. She threw herself at Charlotte and had been very clear about her – her proposition.
How was she supposed to ever look Charlotte in the eye again? Knowing that she’d had to talk Charlotte into sleeping with her, and that Charlotte in turn had sex with her because she was trying to be kind, not out of any sort of desire? She didn’t want to feel her naked body against Sutton’s, the way Sutton had wanted to feel hers. She certainly hadn’t wanted Sutton to touch her, which she’d so wanted to do.
It was without a doubt the most mortifying sexual experience in her life. Even if her previous experiences had never left her breathless and exhilarated and wanting more, there was at least the very baseline point that her partner wanted her in return.
That she hadn’t had to coerce them into sex.
When she heard her phone buzz against her bedside table, she closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds to try to calm the thoughts whirling through her head. She’d plugged her phone into the charger when she’d arrived home last night without looking at it, and had kept it turned face down throughout the night.
Honestly, she’d been avoiding it since leaving Charlotte’s because she knew that Charlotte would reach out to her. She’d been able to see the worry written all over her face when Sutton had gone into full panic mode. If she’d had a friend who showed up at her doorstep, wanting to sleep together, who then ran out the way she had, she’d be worried, too.
Then again, Sutton didn’t think she would be able to bring herself to have sex with someone she didn’t really desire. Regardless.
What was she supposed to say to her? Sorry I practically forced myself on you? Or great, thanks for the orgasms, I’ll be sure to keep my hands to myself at all times in the future? Or, even better, the question that had echoed in her mind for hours, why don’t you want me?
No. She wasn’t going to look at her phone; she was already in a low enough place.
But when it alerted her to a handful of texts, one after another, over the next twenty minutes, she couldn’t ignore it anymore. Rolling over, Sutton reluctantly unwrapped herself from her comforter enough to reach her arm out and grab her phone from her bedside table. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw how many messages she had waiting for her, as her hands started to shake slightly from nerves.
There was no way those could all be from Charlotte, right?
The breath that left her when she saw that not nearly all of the messages were from her was one of relief. With a deep breath, she started from the top.
Charlotte – 1 missed call, 12:44AM
Charlotte – 12:48AM
I think I might have an idea of what’s wrong, but
I would really like to hear that you’re okay.
Sutton’s cheeks burned just from reading the message. Was she okay? How could Charlotte wonder if she was okay, if she knew what was wrong? Then again, Charlotte likely had no clue what it felt like to be undesired; anyone with eyes wanted her. Sutton had seen it every time that they’d hung out.
Charlotte – 7:53AM
Good morning early bird. Are you already
awake? Can we talk before I go into my
meetings?
“Oh, God,” she whined under her breath.
Because not only had she completely thrown her own day – and self-esteem – into the garbage last night, but she hadn’t even taken into account that today was when Charlotte was meeting with her campaign advisors.
She’d been anticipating her day full of meetings today for over a week, excited to meet with her whole team for hours without interruption. And Sutton had probably soured a part of her day because of all of this. Entirely unintentionally, but still.
With trepidation, she scrolled to the final message that Charlotte had sent her.
Charlotte – 9:36AM
We really need to talk soon, Sutton.
Clutching her phone tightly, she dropped her fist down onto the bed with a sigh, shaking her head at herself. Guilt, hurt, and anxiety welled up, twisting together tightly in her stomach as she debated whether or not to answer.
Because on the one hand, Charlotte was clearly concerned, and maybe even angry with her. Which she probably had every right to be, considering the way Sutton had left and then ignored her. And she should message her; Charlotte hadn’t been anything but a good friend to her, regardless of how wrong last night had been.
But on the other hand.
She brought her phone back up and bit her lip as she read over the messages again. She didn’t know what to say, other than maybe an apology. And she very, very much wanted to put off any sort of conversation where Charlotte would explain to Sutton about not wanting her the same way. She really couldn’t handle that, not right now.
Not when she’d spent half of the night agonizing over it already.
Instead, she tapped the button to send her back to look at her other new messages. And the fact that they were all from the group chat set up with her siblings went further than anything else she’d tried to use to comfort her.
She dropped her head back after skimming her eyes over the the messages between Alex, Oliver, Lucas, and Ethan.
In all honesty, with everything that had happened last night, Sutton had forgotten that they all had plans with their parents to video chat while Alex’s finals were on live feed. Her competitions in Europe were usually the only ones where no one in the family attended her finals. Many of her competitions were in New England, and Sutton always attended her finals, in addition to several others if she was free, despite the fact that she sometimes got a bit squeamish.
In spite of the fact that she’d forgotten, she wouldn’t mind video chatting with her family. Their particular brand of craziness always made her feel loved. Comforted. Plus, she could do it from the comfort of her own bed, so, her plan for the day of not leaving was still intact.
She frowned a bit as she reached up to rub at her eyes, which burned a little because she’d had her contacts in a little too long last night, both during and after crying. Glasses were going to be necessary, then.
As she moved to put her phone back down, it chimed again, and she froze. Hoping that it would be someone in her family – because despite the fact that there was the traitorous little part of her that wanted to hear from Charlotte again, she had no idea what to even say to her, still – she took a deep breath and peered at the message.
And found that it was no one that she’d expected it to be, and an email no less, which was somehow both a relief and a disappointment.
From: Nicholas Martin
To: Sutton Spencer
Subject: Great news for your weekend
Date: November 6, 11:25AM
Sutton,
I hope the weekend has been treating you well so far. There are two pressing matters that have come to my attention. The first is that you’re graduating in the spring, which means you’ll be out of the comforts of school and into the harsh realities of the “real world.” So, good luck with that endeavor. I know I’m not your advisor, but if you’d like to schedule a meeting with me about your plans for after graduation, I’d be interested in discussing some options with you.
The second concern is that the assignments you were going to grade for me by Wednesday now need to be completed on Monday.
Sincerest
apologies,
Dr. Martin
She barely managed to stop herself from snorting out loud, because sincerest apologies her ass. The day Dr. Martin genuinely meant an apology for a sudden change in grading due dates was the day he stopped relating the stories they were going over in class to stories of his “misspent youth” – Sutton’s words, not his – of traveling and drinking.
But then she pushed her head back into her pillow and groaned in frustration. Because those papers were situated firmly in her desk in the TA office. There was no way she could hide out in the safety of her own bed all day now.
It was with great reluctance that Sutton walked out of her room a half hour later, backpack slung over her shoulder as she quietly closed the door. Her stomach was still tied up in knots, and she still longed to be wrapped up in her blankets, but she had to keep up with her work in spite of whatever mortifying and upsetting rejections she was facing in her personal life.
She’d had a small hope that Regan wouldn’t be home, despite the fact that she knew she didn’t have work this morning and unlike her, Regan wasn’t an early riser. So unless she had a reason to be up and about, she typically liked to lounge around on the weekends.
Regan was exactly where Sutton thought she would find her late morning on a Saturday – cuddled on their living room couch in a blanket, with a cup of coffee cradled in her hands. Her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as she paused a rerun of Grey’s Anatomy. “Sutton? I didn’t think you were home; it’s almost noon. Did you just get out of bed?”
She tried to keep her voice light, “I – yeah. I, um . . .” she trailed off, cursing herself for not preparing something to tell Regan beforehand.
It was very difficult to lie to Regan about most things. Regan was the one who knew everything about her experiences; something that no one else could claim, because even as close as she was with her mother, there were things she couldn’t discuss with her.
She turned to look at her completely, dark eyes questioning, and Sutton knew within seconds that any semblance of trying to maintain a front was useless. Because Regan quickly sat up, that mischievous gleam in her eyes.
