by Misti Murphy
My pulse rushes in my ears while I continue to swirl my finger over my most sensitive spot, sensation ricocheting through me with the lust in his voice. Is it possible to die from sexual frustration? Because I’m going to explode if he keeps talking to me like this.
“You shouldn’t want me, Claire,” he snarls, banging a fist against the door.
But I do. I want him however I can get him. The only thing holding me back is how he’ll react when he finds out I’m still a virgin. I’m fighting tooth and nail to get him to see me as anything but a child, and I know that’ll drive him away again. Seven years without him in my life was hard enough, and I didn’t even realize how much I missed him before he came back. I don’t want to do that again. I don’t want him to hate me again. “Go away Razer. Leave me alone.”
“Can’t do it. It’s my fault you’re wrung out. I’m not going anywhere ‘til you cum.”
I shudder, his deep tone a caress over my flesh. My thighs quiver as I rest my head back against the door and shut my eyes, slipping my fingers in and out of my entrance. “Feels so good, Raze.”
“Fuck. I bet it does. Bet it would feel better if it was me. My fingers sliding in and out of you.” The crack in his voice, that harsh roughness makes me shiver.
“So close,” I gasp between sharp bursts of breath, my body curving with the need for more contact, more pressure to relieve the desperate needy ache he’s built in me.
“That’s it, sugar. Imagine me on my knees with your clit between my teeth. Fuck, I want to suck you into my mouth, torture you with my tongue, while you ride my face. You’ll cum so fucking hard for me.”
I moan as I arch up from the sensory explosion his words create, crying out his name again, at the brink of something far more intense and sweeter than I could ever create on my own. My breath pants in and out between my lips, and I cum for him, just as he said I would. Hard, incredible, explosive, until my legs are jelly and gravity slides me down the door and onto my ass.
“Open the door, Claire.” It’s been a few minutes since I came on his command, and he’s had time to get himself under control. Under the softness is steel that wasn’t there while he’d been making love to me with his words. “We need to talk about this.” His fingers scrape against the door. “This shouldn’t have happened. It can’t happen again.”
Only I want it to happen again. I want everything he made me imagine, and more. I’m not changing my mind about getting him in my bed. It’s only a matter of time until I have the guts to convince him. “I need a minute.”
“Fine,” he huffs. “I’ll be waiting in the living room.”
When he marches back down the hallway, I drag myself up. I’m still trembling, still breathing hard. I take a minute to compose myself, running a brush through my hair and slipping to the bathroom to splash some cool water on my overheated cheeks.
Razer
When she finally comes out from her bedroom I’ve managed to garner a small amount of control. Sitting on the couch, I’ve checked off on my fingers over and over again the reasons why she and I can’t happen. But listening to her sweet little moans while she made herself cum plays like a highlight reel in my head, making me struggle to remember why each point is so important.
“Where’s Tom?” She combs her fingers through her hair and passes behind the couch to sit on the arm of the chair farthest from me.
“Having dinner with a friend.”
“Oh.” She plays with the little heart at her wrist, and the sensation of her fingers wrapping around the corresponding organ in my chest is strong. But then it always has been.
“We have to talk, Little Bit, about what happened.” Her eyes widen, her lips parting. It would be so easy to slink over to her and kiss that perfect pout. Haul her into my arms and do what I want to her. How much longer can I keep pushing her away when all I want to do is get inside her? “It can’t happen again. You know that right?”
“I know you’re pushing me away again.”
I jump up from the couch. “It shouldn’t have happened in the first place. I’m going to try and make this as clear as I can. I am not interested in being your distraction. Find a guy your own age and leave me the hell alone.”
“I don’t think so.” She stabs her finger into my chest. “Stop being a prick and pretending like you don’t want me. I’m getting sick of this game of hot and cold.”
“Game?” I stare down at her. She really does think we’re playing some game here. Doesn’t she understand that giving in to this thing between us is asking for trouble? It’s already gone too far. I’m not ever going to forget her breathy moans, or the way she reached out to touch me through the glass of the shower while I came like a perverted fucking animal over the lust in her innocent wide eyes. “You’re the one playing games. Spying on me in the bathroom, and then locking me out of your fucking room.”
“You told me to.” She stumbles over a gasp.
I grasp her chin in my hand, lift her face so she has no choice but to gaze into my eyes and see how serious I am about what I’m going to say. “Because this can’t happen. You’re playing a serious game here, Little Bit, with big consequences. I don’t know if you don’t understand that, or if you just don’t care what this will do to our family, but I fucking do.”
“They’re not your family. They’re my brothers, my parents. You were just some charity case my parents couldn’t stand to see out in the cold.”
I wince from her assault. If only it was that easy. The Hadley’s are the only family I’ve ever had. I can’t even remember my parents. They’d left me to my grandfather when I was three. They didn’t give a shit about me, and neither did the old man. He’d been too busy drinking himself into a stupor every night to look after a child. The Hadley’s took me in, put clothes on my back, put food in my belly and treated me like I mattered. They were the only people to give a shit about me. “Real fucking nice, Claire.”
I turn my back on her and storm out of the house. No way I’m going to finish this conversation now. Not when I’m ready to beat the living snot out of something.
I hear the front door slam behind me. The sound of her footsteps rushing across the yard to follow me, but I’m not slowing down. Yanking my helmet down over my head, I straddle the bike.
“I didn’t mean it,” she calls out. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
I glance at her for a split second as I gun the engine. She’s pale, washed out, her eyes glassy as though she’s ready to cry. My heart thumps painfully in my chest, my pulse is racing, anger courses through every cell in my body.
This girl isn’t my Claire. The girl I grew up with, the girl who stole my heart away when she’d been too young to understand what she was doing would never have said what she just did. She wouldn’t be pushing me to break my loyalty for a fuck.
Chapter Eight
Claire
To say it’s complicated would be the understatement of the century. I curl up on the couch, and as though Lucky can ready my mind she plops her giant head in my lap and stares up at me forlornly with those big brown doggy eyes.
With a sigh I scrub my hand over her head, and she takes it as permission to get on the couch. Tom will have my hide if he knows I’ve let the dog up on his sofa, but right now her big brindle body is comforting. “Well, girl, if I was trying to get Razer to hate me, I think we can call it mission accomplished.”
She blows a breath out her nose, as though she agrees with me. Which is stupid since she’s just a dog, but right now she’s about all the conversation I’m fit for. I sniffle and drag the back of my hand over my eyes. “I should give up, shouldn’t I? It would be the smart thing to do.”
The top of her head furrows as she rolls her gaze up to meet mine and lets out a deep yowl.
“I don’t want to.” I scratch a spot behind her ear that has her hind leg kicking in response. “I don’t get why he makes me so crazy. Henley never had this effect on me, and I was going to marry him.”
“Talk
ing to yourself?” Tom asks as he drops his gym bag by the door. “Lucky, get off the damn couch.”
The dog obeys, dropping off the couch before Tom makes it across the room to swat her. “Can you not encourage her?”
“Sure,” I mumble.
He pauses for a minute to stare at me. “Are you all right? You’re not crying over that dickhead, are you?”
“No.” At least not the dickhead he’s assuming. I hop off the couch. “Razer said you wouldn’t be back for dinner.”
“I’m not.” He heads toward the bathroom. Where Razer and I started this crazy evening. God, he’d been so intense. If I’d just ignored him when he told me not to open the door, I wouldn’t have said the stupid things I said. I hadn’t meant them. Not the way they came out. I was just trying to get him to see he’s wrong when it comes to us. That even though we’re still that tight knit family he holds onto as a reason to keep his hands off me, he and I lost that bond. How he can’t see that’s beyond me. The fact he chose to forget me for seven years should have an impact on how we feel about each other. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed if he hadn’t left. But then again I’ve been fantasizing about having him for years, having him look at me, talk to me, touch me the way he did earlier.
“Earth to Claire.” Tom snaps his fingers in front of my face. “I asked what you were going to do tonight. I thought Razer would have been here.”
“Oh. I’m going out with Chelsea,” I tell him, though I had no plans to leave the house or any intention to catch up with her. But I don’t want to sit around moping, either. “I’m going to head out now.”
“Okay, have fun,” he says and closes the bathroom door behind him. Stopping in my room long enough to pull on a jacket and grab my handbag, I decide to see if Chelsea wants to get dinner and a few drinks. Anything to keep my mind off the flinty way Razer stared at me before he tore out of Tom’s driveway.
***
Chelsea and I stumble down the stairs from the wine bar on the second floor. I’ve only had two glasses of white, but skipping dinner has turned me into a two pot screamer. Chelsea isn’t much better, bent over with laughter, while I barely manage to stay on my feet. “Careful, don’t break your neck.”
“I’m not going to fall.” I grip the railing a little tighter and concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. “Unless you push me.” I whip around, snickering. “Don’t push me.”
“How are you going to get home?” she asks. “You can barely put one foot in front of the other.”
“I’ll be fine.” I hit the half landing, stall there for a minute. Will Razer be there when I get home? “I’m such a bitch.”
“None of this drunk speak, thank you very much.” Chelsea grabs my arm.
“But I am.” I turn to face her. “You didn’t see his face.”
She gets this funny expression, her lip twitching on one side as she stares at my forehead. She must be tipsier than I am. “Oh, never mind.”
I take a half-step back and my ankle rolls as I hit the edge of the landing. I throw my arm out, scrambling against the walls of the narrow stairwell, but I can’t get my feet back under me. Chelsea darts forward, but a hard wall of muscle greets my back before she can get a hold on me. My heart wants to leap out of my chest, adrenaline pumping through my system and burning away the buzz I’d managed to find over the last hour. Then his hands are clasping my waist and setting me back on my feet. “Can’t handle your liquor, Little Bit?”
I spin on Razer. “What are you doing here? Are you stalking me now?”
Chelsea tugs on my jacket. “I called your brother. Told him you might need a lift home.”
“I could have caught a cab.” I know I sound ungrateful, but I’m not ready to be alone with him, not when I haven’t worked out how to fix what I said.
“I’m here now,” he says, “I’ll get you home, after you eat.”
“I’m fine.” I shrug off his hand. “It was only a couple of drinks.”
“Sure seems like it.” He grasps my elbow instead. “But you aren’t getting on the bike until I can trust you to hang on.”
“Good idea.” Chelsea nods, and then slides her gaze to the thin gold watch on her wrist. “I need to get going or I’m going to be late, and you remember how Gaby gets.”
“Shoo.” I wave my hand at her dismissively. “Get out of here.”
“I’ll see you before you leave?” She kisses my cheek as she brushes past.
“Of course.”
As soon as she leaves I completely forget the happy buzz I got from the wine. Razer’s staring at me, or rather glowering, while he towers over me. “Feeling sorry for yourself, Little Bit?”
“I’m feeling sorry for you if you call me that again.”
He laughs this deep sound rumbling up from his belly, which makes my insides melt a little. He has the ability to make me forget everything but him. “You think you could take me?”
“I know I could.” I cock an eyebrow, and slap a hand on my hip. “I learned to fight dirty while you were gone.”
“I’ve noticed.” He wraps an arm around my waist his hand squeezing my hip before settling on the small of my back as he ushers me down the rest of the steps and onto the pavement. “Come on, let’s go get some dinner. What do you want to eat?”
You. I want to get down on my knees and see how much of your cock I can take in my mouth, taste you when you cum inside me. What the hell is it about him that makes me think about sex twenty-four seven? I’ve never been so dirty minded. It must be the way he smells, his pheromones or something. That perfect mix of sexy man, the outdoors and... I breathe him in. Me. He still smells like me from when he’d used my products in the shower, and it’s almost too much to resist. The way my scent clings to him, as if he’s mine, as though I’ve claimed every inch of him, and not just in my mind. My insides clench, and my mouth waters, but not for food. “I haven’t had waffles in ages.”
“Is that place still open?” He leads me along the pavement. “Not much has changed since last time I was here.”
A hell of a lot has changed since the last time he was here, but I don’t tell him that. I already stuck my foot in my mouth once today. “About earlier. I shouldn’t have said it.”
“Did you mean it?” His grip on me tightens, the only giveaway he’s still furious. “Is that how you really see me?”
“No. You were never a charity case, Raze. Surely you know that?” I halt, pulling him up short. “I can’t imagine my family without you in it.”
He gazes down at me while he sweeps a few strands of my hair from the side of my throat. “But?”
“But it’s not an excuse you can use to keep treating me like I’m a kid. Like I’m this untouchable fragile thing. I know you want me. Why can’t you admit it?”
“Are you always so fucking pushy?” He dips his head a little, the buzz between us making it hard for either of us to keep our distance.
“I can be,” I murmur, leaning closer. “When I want something.”
“And you think you want me?”
“It’s all I can think about.” I slide my hand down his chest, over lean muscle, to cup him through his pants. “I want you.” My whole body trembles as I give voice to my desires. “To fuck me.”
His gaze wavers between lust, indecision, and something else. Then his jaw tenses, the line of it sharp even under the stubble. The craving to reach up and run my fingers over it, feel the prickle against my skin is too much, and when I do, something snaps in him. He grabs my hand, dragging me along the pavement until he finds an alley. Pulling me deep into the darkness between buildings, he pushes me roughly up against the bricks. His hand slams to a spot on the wall beside my head, and he leans down so we’re face to face. If either of us moves, our lips will graze, and the thin, tight string of self-control he’s barely holding onto will snap. Our breath mingles, mine hard and fast, his harsh but drawn out. I press my hand to his chest, feel the fast beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. There’s nothing
friendly in the way he runs his gaze over my breasts. “I’ve been in a lot of crazy situations over the years, but this…” he grazes his fingers over my chin and down to the first button on my jacket. “You’re fucking with my head, Claire.”
I’m so worked up, that slight touch has me gushing wet for him. “I’m not fucking with you. I know what I want. You’re the one making this harder than it has to be.”
“I can’t give you more than today. I’m not offering to stick around after we’re done. Is that what you really want?” He slips the first two buttons of my jacket undone, pushes it aside to spread his hand over my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple until it tightens into a firm point.
Arching into his hand, desperate for the sensation that washes through me with each slight touch, I whimper, “I want you.”
“Well, here I am.” He nips a line of prickling pleasure from my jaw down my throat. “If you want me, you’re going to have to show me how much.”
“Here?” I dart nervous glances at the other end of the alley, where people walk past the entrance, heedless to what’s going on in the shadows.
“Here.” Sucking my breast through my top, he leaves a hot imprint of his mouth that makes me shiver when the cool air hits it. It would be so easy to give in. It’s what I’ve been waiting for, but this isn’t how I expected my first time to go. Pushed up against bricks next to a reeking dumpster where anybody walking past can see us. And I’m not even sure how the schematics of it all would work. Would he lift me up against the wall so he could push into me, or…? I’m fucking clueless. I don’t expect romance or gentleness with Razer, especially since I haven’t told him I’m a virgin. But that’s not what this is about. This isn’t love. It’s pure unadulterated attraction, the culmination of years of fantasy where he’d kissed me boneless while he stripped me bare. At this point, if there was a bed, or a bit of carpet, I’d be hard pressed not to follow through.