𝑺𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅-𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏.
LIKE FATHER, LIKE DAUGHTER.
Charlie, also known as the jet-setter and billionaire Tony Stark's only daughter, is 26 and in a relationship with Steve, soon-to-be successor...
A mix of hurt and guilt invaded Charlie's chest when she remembered her last interaction with James on Christmas morning.
It was the last time since they truly had a conversation and she didn't sleep in his bed that night.
She had missed his heat, his scent, his touch, the feeling of him pushing himself inside her.
But a deal was a deal, and coming back home meant they'd stop whatever they were doing, and for her part, shut down the growing feeling of attraction toward her bodyguard.
And New Year's Eve seemed to be the perfect opportunity to think about anything else but him.
Nat had dropped by Charlie's hours before to get ready and the redhead had picked up another dress for her friend when the latter had put on a sexy yet simple dress.
"Why are you dressed like you're 60 and married?" she had asked, offended. "You're young and newly single. Go change into something else."
Natalia had dug into the walking closet and reappeared with the most showy dresses Charlie owned. Everyone knew Tony Stark's daughter had a soft spot for eccentricity, but these dresses were the crème de la crème.
After trying on a few, the best friends had opted for a low-cut neckline, backless silvery diamond dress. Charlie had never worn it and thought tonight was a good opportunity to do so.
Nat jumped on Charlie's bed, landing on her stomach, bouncing. "Oh my God," she spoke as she came into realization of something.
"What?"
"Did you guys fucked in that bed recently?" she turned on her back. "Because I don't want to swim in sheets damped with your sweat and cum."
"We don't, um, actually we don't do that. Anymore."
"Ha Ha. Good one."
"Nat I'm serious," Charlie sighed. "We've decided that we couldn't go on like this after we got back home."
An awkward silence stretched between them.
"So..." the redhead lied flat on her back on the mattress, her limbs spread like a starfish as she looked at the ceiling. "How's your abstinence of Sexy Bodyguard going?"
"It's only been five days, Nat."
She was counting the days.
And she wasn't really proud of it.
"I admire you, really. Because I'd be dead already."
"From lack of sex for five days?"
"I need at least two orgasms I didn't give myself a day. Matter of survival," she ignored Charlie's chuckle. "Seriously, though," Nat propped on one elbow to look at her friend. "I don't know how you do it when he looks at you like that."
