Escapism (CL 16)

6. If I Could Take It Back

"Do you want another drink?" Charles asked, turning on the lights on the yacht and putting on some music.

"You do know this is ridiculous right? This yacht is bigger than my house."

Charles didn't answer her, not really knowing what to say. Instead he just poured them a glass of wine each, watching her as she wandered around the interior of the yacht, looking at the photos on display on the walls of his family.

"Thanks." She took the glass of wine from him as he stood next to her, taking a big gulp of it.

She wasn't sure why she'd come back with him, because now she was starting to sober up a little she was feeling awkward and out of place. Every little detail she found out about him made her feel more and more out of place being there with him. They were from two completely different worlds.

"What's wrong?" He asked, watching her as her finger traced the rim of the wineglass.

She looked up and met his eyes, shifting awkwardly. "Nothing... just need some more wine I think." She gulped down the glass he'd just given her and turned to refill it.

"I can walk you back to the club or home, if you want me to." He offered. "I didn't mean to make it weird bringing you here, you just looked upset and it was so busy in there..."

"Are your friends not wondering where you are?" She asked him curiously. She'd already texted Anna, claiming that she had a headache and had gone back to go to bed. But as far as she'd seen he hadn't told anyone where he'd gone.

"They'll assume I snuck off to go home." He shrugged. "They knew I didn't want to be there anyway. It was way too busy in there. I tried so hard to get out of it but Arthur just wouldn't leave it so I gave in."

"Oh..." she trailed off, not knowing what to say. He was talking like she should know who Arthur was, and yet she had absolutely no idea.

He took a step closer to her, hand finding its way to rest on her waist. His touch sent a shiver down her spine.

"I'd much rather be here with you." He smirked. "I'm glad we ran into each other again. I've been thinking about you, a lot."

She didn't realise she was biting her lip until he unhooked it with his thumb, thumb tracing over her lip.

She heard the clink of his wine glass as he put it down on the counter behind them, then both of his hands were on her, cradling her face.

"Charles, I-" she didn't get to finish her sentence, his lips were already on hers. Her fingers twisting into his hair, his hands sliding down her body and pulling her in closer to him.

It was enough to remind her of exactly why she'd come back here with him in the first place. Whatever this weird thing between the two of them was, it was electric. Every time he touched her it always left her wanting more.

He slowly guided her backwards, until the back of her legs hit the sofa, the two of them tumbling down onto the soft cushions. He twisted, flipping the two of them over so she was on top of him, legs straddling his hips. Her dress bunched up around the top of her thighs.

She broke away from the kiss for a moment, catching her breath, and then leant down and kissed him again. His hands slid up her thighs, working their way under the skirt of her dress. Every time he touched her it left her craving more, it was addictive.

His hands slid over the soft skin of her thighs, he smirked against her lips as she squirmed underneath his touch.

"Can I take this off?" Mumbled, lifting his hands to the zipper on her dress.

She nodded, but didn't stop kissing him as he fumbled around trying to release the zipper. They both breathed a sigh of relief when he finally got it undone. She quickly shrugged her arms out of the sleeves, allowing the material to pool around her waist.

"What?" She asked, realising he was frowning.

"I liked the other dress better. You have a bra under this one." He pouted. "I can fix that I suppose..."

He'd released the clasp on the bra and tossed it across the room before she even had a chance to say a word.

"Charles..." she moaned quietly as he sat up a little, teeth grazing over nipples.

"Shhh." He mumbled. "Someone might walk by and hear us." There was a small part of his brain that was at least a little concious that the yacht was moored in a busy part of the harbour and there were a lot of people outside.

The next moan that filled the air was his though, escaping him before he could stop it as she ground her hips into his.

"Shhhhh." She mocked, fingers twisting into his hair and lifting his lips up to meet hers again.

His fingers trailed up her thighs again, sliding into her panties in a way that had her moaning against his mouth as she kissed him.

"You're gonna be thinking about this, when you back to him." Charles whispered. "Bet he doesn't make you feel like this. He could never make you feel as good as this. He doesn't deserve to."

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over her.

Mike

Not an hour ago she'd promised him she was coming home, that the two of them would try again and here she was, half naked sat in another man's lap.

Charles felt her entire body go rigid, and it took a minute for his own words to sink in to his brain. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that. I..."

"I have to go." She said quickly, jumping off his lap and quickly pulling her dress up to cover herself. She only got the zipper halfway up, but she didn't care.

"Laura, wait." Charles protested, but he wasn't quite fast enough. She'd already grabbed her bag and was running off the yacht. She didn't even stop to collect her shoes, which were sitting beside his where they'd both taken them off as they got on board earlier.

"Laura, stop!" He called, but she didn't even turn back to look at him. He had no idea if she just hadn't heard him, or the more likely explanation that she was ignoring him.

He was about to take off after her, when he realised the way he'd been yelling after her had attracted the attention of quite a few people walking back along the harbour. He had about thirty seconds, if he was lucky, before someone recognised him and started taking photos.

He could already see the headlines that would be written, and the Ferrari PR team were going to murder him. So instead of taking off after her, he quickly picked up both pairs of shoes and headed back inside the boat, making sure all the curtains were shut to shield him from prying eyes.

Then he poured himself another drink and sat back down on the same sofa she'd fled from.

"For fucks sake, Charles." He groaned.