Page 127 of With a Cherry On Top

She’s spreading soap over my chest when I finally say it. “I went too far, didn’t I?”

Her hands pause for just a second before she looks up. “I might’ve punched her if my hand wasn’t already in bad shape.Thatwould have been too far. What you said was just...what she deserved. A long time coming.”

Water beats down on my back. “But it’s her workplace. I went too far.”

She resumes moving, gliding her hands up my shoulders, then down my arms, her touch firm but soothing. The tension starts to bleed from my muscles, and for a moment, I wonder—would she let me kiss her again? Would that help?

“She should have told you she was back,” Charlotte says.

Yeah, she should have.

I close my eyes as she works lower: my hip, my groin. The second she reaches my cock, my body reacts.

“I honestly don’t understand how you can be horny right now,” she says with a laugh.

I crack an eye open. “You’re here.”

Simple as that. My body doesn’t care that I’m pissed off. It doesn’t care about right or wrong, or that my night descended into madness. It just knows that Charlotte is here, and that does something to me.

She positions me under the jet of water, then rinses the soap from my skin with her hands. “At least tonight was fun until the screaming match.”

“Yeah?” I shoot her a look. “Getting arrested was fun?”

“Not my first time.”

That makes me tilt my head. “Oh?”

She shrugs like it’s nothing. “A couple of years ago, I kicked some guy in the nuts.”

“Damn.” I brush some hair off her face. “What did he do?”

“He was in charge of talent for a shoot, and he...” She taps her chin. “Got handsy. I had to correct his misconceptions—it was myduty, in fact.”

Her fingers return to my chest. “Does that happen a lot?”

“Men being gross? Yes.”

“No, I mean...people in positions of power around you trying to...” I swallow, the thought alone making my skin crawl. “Making things unprofessional?”

“No.” Her hand presses on the side of my neck. “Sometimes. It’s part of the gig, I guess.”

I trace the bruise on her hand. “And this was fun too?”

“The punch was a first.” She pauses, looking down at her knuckles with a proud smile. “And I low-key always wanted to do it.”

“Really?”

“Have you ever?”

“Not since I was a kid. Got punched a couple of years ago though. By my brother.”

“Aww,” she says with exaggerated pity, lifting the shampoo again with her busted hand. “Always getting hit because of a girl, are you?”

I stop her before she can tilt the bottle.

“Hey,” I say quietly, taking it from her. “Let me.”

There’s a protest in her eyes, but I point my chin toward her hand. “You can barely close your fingers. Just...let me take care of you for once.”

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