Page 66 of Breaking Point

I flush at how wet I am, the evidence of how much I want him, but when he sweeps his thumb over me again, I lose allsense of thought. Arousal courses through me, burning at every stroke of his hand.

Then his breath is in my ear, voice low. “Is this for him? Or are you dripping for me, Princess?”

He knows the answer, and I hate that I gasp when his fingers tug at the band of my underwear, dragging them down an inch. Two.

More,I nearly beg, but when the kettle whistles from the stove, I freeze.

The moment hits me full-force: Alone, his hands between my legs, my dress around my waist. I spot the moment he realizes it too:

This was a mistake.

I don’t allow myself the embarrassment of looking at him before I hop down. I step out of his touch, tossing my hair back as I reach for the steaming kettle and pull it off the heat. My phone takes the opportune moment to ring. My dad’s contact flashes on the screen beside me.

“Hey, is everything okay?” I blurt, hoping he can’t hear how hoarse my voice is.

“Button! You answered.”

I release a heavy sigh at the calm in his voice. “Dad, it’s 11 at night. I thought you were in trouble.”

“I’m okay. You know me- always burning the midnight oil. Sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to see if you were going to the Midsummer’s gala tomorrow night. It will be the first one since Tyson’s death.”

“I-“ I calm the hammering in my heart with a breath. I nearly forgot about Midsummers. It’s only one of the most elusive events in Westos, and I've yet to RSVP.

Not to mention Charlotte and I haven't spoken since the phone call the night of my mother's party.

“I haven’t decided. It’s been a crazy year. For the Benenatis especially.”

The thought is just another painful reminder of the distance between Charlotte and I- distance I put there.

“I understand. But everybody who’s anybody will be there. It would be good for business.”

I sigh as water trickles from the kettle into my mug. Tension seeps from my shoulders as wafts of peach and rose fill my nose.

I realize Crew’s left the room, and I set my phone on speaker as I drizzle a hint of honey in my tea.

“I’ll come, Dad. But you should get to bed! It’s late.”

“I will. I will,” he jests, and I smile when he quickly lapses into a story about work.

I sit in bed until long after the call with Dad, until long after my tea is drained to the dregs, until my racing thoughts have me looking up at the ceiling in the dark.

Thoughts about tonight.

Thoughts about tomorrow.

Thoughts about the man only a wall away… who said he wouldn’t touch me. Who said we couldn’t do this. Yet somehow every line we’ve drawn, we’ve managed to cross with just a touch.

Chapter Thirty-One

Olivia

The last time I was here, I was planning my best friend’s wedding to a man she didn’t choose. Their wedding was the biggest wedding of the century.- a truce between Westlans and Prevyains after the war. Then Tyson died, Charlotte fell in love, and then she left.

Without a goodbye. Without anything.

I spent months thinking about what happened. Why she left so abruptly. But then she returned, and the truth came out. About her mother, her father’s disappearance, about the feud between their families, between Westlans and Prevyains.

Charlotte was in the hospital for weeks. Her own mother shot her. Stabbed her. Beat her. And I couldn’t bring myself to go and see her. To text back. To get over myself and fix things.

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