My n****ples hardy
Charlotte’s POV
I sat at the dinner table feeling like I had been dragged into a bad dream. Candlelight flickered across the glossy surface, but all I could focus on was the man beside me, Luther. Of all people, why did he have to sit so close?
“You have barely touched your food, Charlotte. Do you not like it?” he asked, voice deep and smooth like he had no clue he made my skin crawl, in both the worst and most confusing ways.
I turned to look at him, only to find his eyes glued to my lips. I pressed them together, realising too late that I had been biting the bottom one again. A nervous habit. A habit he seemed to enjoy a little too much.
“I am not hungry,” I replied, brushing it off with a fake little laugh.
I looked down at my untouched plate, hoping to avoid any more awkwardness, but of course, my mother had other plans.
“Tell her how we met, darling,” she said, her voice bright and excited, like this was some cute dinner date.
I nearly rolled my eyes. I did not want to hear it. I did not want to hear anything about how my mother ended up with a stranger after my father’s death.
“Oh yes!” Stanley, her fiancé, perked up, setting his fork aside. My stomach turned as I gripped my wine glass a little tighter.
“Careful,” Luther murmured, and somehow his voice made my heart jump rather than calm me down.
“She walked into my office needing help,” Stanley began proudly.
“What kind of help?” I asked flatly, not bothering to hide my tone.
“I’m a private investigator,” he said, puffing his chest slightly. “Your mother was not satisfied with the way the police were handling your father’s case.”
My jaw tensed. Just hearing my father mentioned made my blood rise.
“You did all that behind my back?” I turned to my mother, staring straight at her.
“Charlotte, this is not the place,” she said quietly, trying to settle things like always.
“No, this is exactly the place. You had no right to leave me out of something this important. He was my dad,” I said, trying not to cry even though I had no idea where the tears were coming from.
“Keep your voice down,” she warned, looking around as if strangers’ opinions mattered more than my feelings.
“The police were doing their job. You just could not wait, could you? You had to go looking for someone new before Dad was even cold on the ground.” My throat burned as I said it.
“You will not speak to me like that,” she snapped.
“Show some respect,” Stanley added, like he had any right to speak. And just like that, I felt my whole body heat up. Stanley was not my father, and he had no say in how I spoke to my mother.
I opened my mouth to fire back, but then something stopped me, Luther’s hand. It rested gently on my bare thigh beneath the table, and the contact made my words catch in my throat. I regretted wearing this short dress.
He did not even look at me. He just kept his palm there, calm and steady, as if telling me to let it go.
With anyone else, I would have shoved their hand away without a second thought. But not with Luther. No, with him… it felt like my skin was waking up.
“There is no reason to let this get out of hand,” he said smoothly, giving me a side glance while his hand stayed right where it was.
My mind blanked. I could not think straight. Everything else faded except the feel of his fingers on my skin. I did not know if it was helping or making things worse.
“This is not finished,” I managed to say after clearing my throat.
“Fair enough,” my mother replied, her tone cool.
Luther still did not remove his hand. He turned to join whatever new wedding topic my mother was babbling about, but I was far too distracted to care. I closed my eyes briefly, picturing that same hand moving up, inch by inch...
As if he could read my mind, he shifted ever so slightly. It was not much, but it was enough to send another rush through me.
“Charlotte?” My mother’s voice popped out the heat in my head.
“Hmm?” I looked up, face warm, trying not to seem out of breath.
“I asked if you would be inviting Loveth and Kate to the wedding.”
Old childhood friends. Memories of school and birthday parties flashed through my mind, but I couldn't care less about them at this moment.
“Yeah… sure,” I said, though I was not sure I meant it.
“When is the wedding?” The question left my lips before I even realised I had not asked until now.
“In a few weeks time,” my mother replied, her tone light, like this was all normal.
I nearly pushed my chair back and walked out right then, but I stopped. Or rather, Luther stopped me. His hand pressed gently against my thigh under the table, and my body reacted before my mind could catch up. The anger I was holding began to slip away, replaced by something else, something dangerous.
“I know it’s quick,” my mother added, her voice filled with excitement, “but we’re in love, and we just want to enjoy every moment together.”
Across the table, Stanley squeezed her hand with that smug smile on his face.
“You two are perfect together,” Luther said, his voice smooth and relaxed like he hadn’t just stolen my focus completely.
I placed my hand over his wrist, hoping he would stop. I did not dare meet his eyes, afraid he would see the effect he was having on me. If only my mother knew what was happening beneath the table.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, then leaned in to kiss Stanley. I looked away, burning on the inside. My body felt hot and restless. I could not take it anymore.
“I need some air,” I muttered and stood up quickly. Luther finally moved his hand away, and I walked out without looking back.
I made it to the parking lot, trying to calm myself down. I leaned my head against the cool glass of my mother’s car window.
“Talking to yourself now?”
His voice behind me made me grimace. I had left to put space between us, but he had followed me.
“Go away,” I snapped, still not turning around.
“Did I turn you on, back there?”
The question was bold and it settled into my skin. I turned slowly, trying my best to glare, but he was already close, his tall frame casting a shadow over me.
“You touched my leg. That’s not exactly earth-shattering,” I said, trying to sound unbothered.
“Is that so?” His smirk deepened. “Then you won’t mind if I do it again.”
He slid his hands from his pockets like a man completely sure of himself.
“You can’t just touch women without asking,” I said firmly, though the tremble in my voice gave me away.
“But you did not tell me to stop, Charlotte. In fact, you seemed to enjoy it.”
He moved closer, the scent of his cologne messing with my head.
“Why are you even here?” I asked, changing the subject quickly.
“My brother and your mom changed plans. She asked me to take you home.”
“I’ll call a cab,” I replied, only to realise I had left my phone inside. I sighed. “Fine. But keep your hands to yourself.”
He leaned in slightly and my voice was low. “Are you sure you want that? Because right now, I know exactly what your body wants me to do.”
I hated that he was right.
“Shut up,” I muttered, eyes dropping to where he had been looking. And there it
was, my nipples hard and pressing against my dress. Damn it.
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