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If only she knew how wet Charlotte was for her…

“You may,” she rasped, voice dripping with seduction as she fought the urge to pounce.

The barest hint of a knowing smile played across her expression, the desire to touch and be touched almost irresistible.

“Hold that expression,” Ali said, fumbling for her phone and Charlotte held steady until the artist captured the perfect shot.

Ali approached, offering a hand and helping Charlotte to her feet.

Charlotte closed the distance between them. The firm press of her naked body against Ali’s clothed one wasn’t enough. Finger slipped through the opening in the side over her ribs and trailed teasing patterns over the patch of smooth skin toward her back, nails dragging across bare skin.

“Charlotte, we shouldn’t⁠—”

“Why?”

“It’s kinda rule number one not to touch your models in any kind of inappropriate way—” Ali rambled before Charlotte silenced her with a kiss, lips molding together as though made for the other.

She craved more. Needed more. Pulling away she gazed into dazed coffee eyes.

“Am I just a model to you?” Charlotte asked, and her voice sounded husky even to herself.

Ali shook her head, a peachy flush creeping across freckled skin, painting her cheeks from the inside out.

“Good.”

Charlotte turned them, pushing Ali down on the couch, moving to straddle her hips.

She leaned in, whispering in her ear, “I need you to touch me.”

A shiver ran through Ali in response to her words. Pulling back, she studied the hooded gaze for any signs of retreat, but only found hunger devouring darkening orbs. For too long they danced around their obvious attraction, dipping their toes in on occasion. But now…

They moved in sync, lips crashing together.

Dexterous hands moved up and down her bare thighs, kneading the swell of her hips before sliding around to grip her ass, blunt nails digging in just enough to draw a needy whimper from somewhere deep within Charlotte.

Her hips jerked and her head fell back, exposing the length of her neck.

Searing lips trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the side of her neck, tongue teasing the edge of her ear. Rapid breaths tickled Charlotte’s skin. Teeth nipped at her earlobe, ripping a moan from Charlotte as she rolled her hips in response. A new wave of arousal shot straight to her core, the ache almost painful.

Charlotte’s hands moved of their own accord, fumbling with the clasps keeping the straps of her overalls in place, she needed more of Ali’s skin against her own.

“Can I?”

“Please,” she heard herself whimper. “Please touch me.”

It sounded an awful lot like begging. Which was preposterous, because Charlotte Davenport never begged. Not for anything. And yet…

Ali groaned in answer as one hand moved to squeeze her breast, thumb rolling over a stiff peak. Her other hand traced teasing patterns along the inside of her thigh, inches from her center.

“Please, Ali, insi⁠—”

A loud crash sounded right behind them, accompanied by glass shattering, items thumping and clattering across the floor, and the unmistakable sound of a terrified cat tearing across the floor.

They jerked apart and Charlotte turned to survey the damage.

The easel wobbled, tilting forward, threatening to send the canvas tumbling down into the mess splattered across the floor. Ali all but flung Charlotte off her, overalls slipping down as she leapt across the floor, saving the canvas from joining the well-loved easel crashing into the mess below.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Ali swore, making certain the piece was alright, before looking down at the tragic disarray she stood in.