by Misti Murphy
“Yeah.” Tom nods. “A couple of the guys from the gym are always saying there’s not enough of them to fill the need. Hell, I could use a couple extra hands with my self-defense classes so I could run them during the week as well. Thinking of staying?”
“Yeah, maybe we all should. It’d be nice to see a bit more of each other, don’t you think, Razer?”
“Right.” I’m only half listening, since Claire’s now turned into the guy’s arms and he’s squeezing her ass cheeks like they’re a stress ball.
“It’s your turn.” Mace tries to hand me the cue, but I push him out of the way and storm toward the couple on the dance floor.
I haul the kid back by his shirt. “Keep your hands to yourself, asshole.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Claire tries to get between us, pushing at me as she yells, “Let him go.”
With a growl I tighten my fist in his shirt, lifting him off his feet. I should let him go. Should walk away. But there’s no way he’s getting his hands on her again. “I’ll let him go when you leave the dance floor, Little Bit.”
The kid squirms, trying to get loose. “Who the hell are you?”
“Claire.” I snarl, a warning that I’m close to losing my temper.
“Fine. I need to go to the bathroom anyway.” She storms off, pushing through the other dancers until she exits into the hallway on the other side of the room.
Then I drop him. “Find some other girl to paw. This one’s taken.”
“Sorry, dude. I didn’t know she was your girlfriend. We were just having fun.”
I lunge toward him, my fist raised to scare the little shit, but he’s smarter than I give him credit for because he’s already racing off in the opposite direction of Claire.
Claire, my girlfriend? Ridiculous.
“Nice going, Razer.” Chelsea yells in my ear. “What the hell did you do that for?”
Honestly, I don’t know. Claire makes me lose control. For so many years I’ve relied on my ability to control a situation, using rational thinking and sharp instinct. But with her, my instinct drives me to go against everything my brain tells me I should do. Like I should walk away. I shouldn’t find her, drag her up against me and kiss that sweet mouth until she’s wet for me, desperate and aching for more. No, I shouldn’t go after her. “I better go apologize.”
I bump into her in the hallway as she comes out of the bathroom. Okay, I’ve been hanging around the door waiting for her. The word girlfriend keeps going off between my ears like an alarm. I’m heading into dangerous territory, letting her get under my skin the way she has.
“What do you want?” She glares at me.
You. “To apologize. That was a dickhead move.” I take her hand, draw a circle over the inside with my thumb. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
She tilts her head, not yanking her hand away, just letting me hold it as though this situation between us isn’t destructive. “Why did you do it?”
“I want you, okay? That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it? I’m going to lose my ever loving mind if I have to see some other guy paw you. Someone who isn’t me.” I pull her flush against me and devour her mouth until she’s breathless and whimpering, her whole body arching into mine. My hands on her ass, I grind into her. “You make me hard as a fucking rock. I lay awake in that room next to yours and all I can think about is whether you’re naked, and how tight your pussy will feel when I slip inside you.”
She gasps, her hands fluttering up from my elbows to my neck pulling me down to get drunk on her lips again. “Then stop avoiding me. Stop pushing me away.”
I am so fucking close to giving into her. The strength to fight her whittling away with each touch, each kiss. With the wall to her back I grasp her ass and spread her legs with my knee. “You think this is what you want, but you don’t. Not really. This is nothing but a distraction.” I disentangle her hands from my neck and step back. “I’m not for you, Little Bit, and you’re sure as hell not for me. The sooner I put some distance between us the better.”
“Is everything all right, sis?” Mace stalks down the hallway. “Was that kid harassing you?”
“Everything’s fine.” She slips past me, distracting Mace to give me a moment to deal with the obvious bulge in my pants. “It just takes some people a while to realize they’re wrong.”
She glances back over her shoulder, sadness filling her violet eyes. “Coming, bro?”
And just like that, she’s shut herself off. I’d wanted that. Wanted her to realize what I’d known all along. She and I can never be more than we are.
***
“Looks like Tom struck out.” Mace laughs when I get back to him. They’ve given up on the game of pool, and he leans on the half wall that separates the tables from the dance floor, nursing a dark ale.
I follow his line of sight, to see Tom getting the stink eye from a rather pretty brunette. “I didn’t think it was possible after this week. When the hell did he become a fucking lothario?”
“Remember when he used to stutter?” Mace grins as he impersonates a memory from our childhood. “Now I swear he’s got more luck with the ladies than I do.”
“Both of us put together.” I reach for the full beer beside him when he gestures for me to take it. “So are you seriously considering sticking around here?”
“Yeah. Might as well. There’s plenty of the kind of work I like to do. And family, you know? I missed them more than I’ll ever admit.”
“Yeah.” I take a long swig of my beer. “I get it.”
“But you’re not considering it?” He furrows his brow.
“Nope.” I stare at Claire, her arms tossed up in the air as she shakes her hips, back out on the dance floor. “I’m out of here as soon as I get the land sorted out.”
“Can’t tempt you, then?” Mace asks.
No. I’m pretty sure the only thing that could tempt me to stay is the one thing that shouldn’t.
“Did you see that chick?” Tom grins as he slides up beside Mace and snatches up the third beer. “She gave me an earful.”
“It’s not like you didn’t deserve it, dickhead.” Mace crows, smacking him on the back, before pulling out his wallet. “Time for something harder.”
“Shots,” Tom yells out as Mace swaggers toward the bar. “I’ll get the next round.”
By the time Chelsea and Claire stumble off the dance floor, Tom and Mace are three sheets to the wind, their arms around each other’s shoulders, swaying to the music as they stumble over the words to the song.
“We’re ready to go,” Chelsea yells over the music. “My feet are freaking killing me.”
“I can help with that.” Tom grins, hoisting her into his arms and spinning her around.
“Put me down,” she squeals, giggling.
And it’s contagious because Claire starts laughing as she slides an arm around Mace. “We girls are going. You guys can stay.”
“No, Little bit.” Mace lifts her chin. “Can’t let you go home alone.”
“I’m old enough to catch a cab by myself.”
She glances at me for backup, but right now I want to be home. Away from them all. Away from her and the smile that melts my resolve. “Not a chance. Let’s get out of here.”
Stumbling out onto the pavement, we mill around trying to hail a cab, but it’s a bad time of night for it.
“I’m going to walk,” Chelsea says. “It’s only a couple blocks.”
“I’ll walk with you.” Mace stalks over to her. “And make sure you get home safe.”
“Thanks, but it’s really not necessary,” she says, giving Claire a hug. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, honey.”
We watch them heading up the block for a minute before Tom takes off after them. “Wait up. I’ll come with you.”
Shit. Now it’s just me and Claire. I glance down to find her staring up at me, and the spark in her eye tells me I’m in a shitload of trouble.
Chapter Ten
Claire
> Tom’s house isn’t that far from Blazer’s, but my feet are sore from dancing in stilettos all night. Stupid medieval torture devices. It’s a pity they’re so gosh darn pretty. Razer slows his pace to match mine while we wander along the street, past a couple of empty restaurants and darkened shops.
“Are you hungry?” he asks as we pass a late night pizza joint. “Do you want to get a slice?”
There is something so perfect about a grease-laden slice when you’re full of alcohol and have burned copious amounts of energy on the dance floor. It’s almost as if the very act of drinking vodka makes everything taste better. My stomach gurgles at the smell of the pizzas coming out of the ovens. “Yes, please. I could totally go for a slice.”
He takes my hand and pulls me inside. “You go find a booth. I’ll grab a couple, okay?”
It doesn’t take long for him to come back with the food, and a couple bottles of water, which he places between us. “I thought you could use it for the dehydration.”
“I think I’ll be okay.” I nibble on the end of a slice. “I didn’t drink anywhere near as much as Mace and Tom.”
“Maybe not.” He brushes a string of melted cheese from my chin. “But you’re tiny compared to them, and they’re going to feel like shit.”
“Are you saying you care about how I feel?” I swallow the lump of pizza. Am I ever going to get to the bottom of the puzzle that is Razer? But I guess he just doesn’t want to share a bathroom with me if I’m seedy in the morning. Or he’ll say it’s because I’m like a sister to him. I drop the slice, my appetite gone. “Never mind.”
“More than I should,” he rumbles. “I thought you were going to leave it alone.”
“I can’t.” I slide out of my side of the booth and carefully wedge myself onto his lap, capturing his face between my hands so he’s locked into my gaze.
“What are you doing, Little Bit?” His breath hitches, even as he grows hard beneath me.
“Stop doing that.” The thick stubble along his jaw pricks the pads of my fingers. He’s so much man, and I want to own him. I want to snap my fingers and have him give in to me.
“What?”
His hands scrape up my thighs, and his gaze drops to the sliver of skin revealed by how my dress spills forward over my breasts.
My skin warms under his attention, but I pull his gaze back to my face. “Trying to put me in that box. It’s not what you want.”
“What I want doesn’t really matter.” He shrugs, his fingers digging into my hips.
“It does.” I lift one of his hands to my chest. “It matters to me. Why didn’t you answer any of my letters, Raze? Why do you keep trying to make me that sixteen year old kid you left behind?”
“Because the way I felt about you then, the same way you’re making me feel about you now.” He shifts beneath me, pressing his erection against me. “It’s fucking wrong, Claire.”
Screw right and wrong. There’s only the needy ache he draws up in me. The way I can never stop wanting his hands on me, his mouth on mine. I lean down, my hair cascading around his face while I nibble his bottom lip. “It doesn’t feel wrong to me. It feels like heaven.”
“Stop, sugar. Shit.” He groans, disentangling me from his lap. “You make it so damn difficult for me to remember my place.”
Standing up, he takes my hand and leads me back outside.
“I don’t understand.”
He gives me a lopsided grin, and tugs me in under his arm. “You really don’t, do you? You know, I still remember the first time I met you. You were this tiny squalling thing, bundled all in pink.”
“I don’t remember it.”
“Of course you don’t,” he says. “You were days old. Rush was already fully into magic by then and the three of them wanted to make you disappear. I think they were pissed you weren’t a boy.”
“Sounds about right.” I tangle my fingers with his, my heart fluttering because he hasn’t let go of me.
“Yeah.” He rubs his thumb over mine. “I was fascinated. Here’s this screaming god-awful bundle of girl.”
I nudge him in the ribs, and he snorts. “You have to remember, I didn’t have anyone but my grandfather. Nobody gave a shit about me, and at the time I didn’t understand how amazing what your parents did for me was. But you…” He pulls up short, curling me into his arms. “You took my thumb between those tiny pudgy little fingers and smiled up at me.”
“It was probably gas. Babies have a lot of gas,” I murmur.
He chuckles and presses his lips to my hair. “Maybe, but I was the only one you got gassy for. And I fell in love with you. Not like this.” Tilting my face to his, he brands my lips with his own. “Not then. Hell, I was six. Didn’t even notice girls until a couple years later. But I made a promise to you, to your parents, to myself. As long as I could be part of your family, I was going to be the best big brother you’d ever have.”
“You were, you know. The best brother a girl could ask for. But not mine.” I take his hand and clasp it against my cheek. “I love my brothers, even though they drive me crazy, but you’re the one who stays in my memory the most.”
“I wish I could see things as clearly defined as you do.” He slides his arm around my waist. “Are your feet sore?”
“Pure agony.”
“Come on, I’ll carry you.” He turns around and lifts my arms around his neck, bending his knees so I can get on his back.
It’s almost too weird having him carry me, like everywhere we turn is a reminder of things we used to do. “So why did you cut me out of your life? All I know of the past seven years is what the boys have told me.”
“Because I couldn’t keep that promise.” He winds his arms around me, balancing my weight on his hands. “I knew it was wrong, but those feelings changed. It wasn’t until I came back that I realized I didn’t love you the way I used to. That having you be part of my life wasn’t going to be enough anymore.”
He trails off, and I’m starting to understand how deep his feelings actually run. How difficult it is for him to admit this to me. “That night we kissed. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I couldn’t control myself around you. I knew it would only get worse. That’s why I had to leave you behind.”
“I thought you were angry with me for kissing you. I thought you hated me.” I rest my cheek on the back of his neck. “You ran like you’d been stung by a scorpion.”
“Never.” Keeping one palm on my ass, he reaches up to squeeze my hand. “But you were only sixteen, sugar. You didn’t understand what you were doing. Didn’t know what you wanted.”
I want to tell him he’s wrong. That I’d always known what I was doing.
“Do you think your brothers would have forgiven me if I’d done anything about how I felt?” he asks. “Hell, do you think they’d forgive me now if they knew what’s been going on these past few days?”
I want to believe they would, but they’ve always been so protective of me. “I think they’d realize it’s what we want. We’re both adults. It’s different now.”
“Is it?” He lets me go as we reach the stairs to Tom’s front door so he can find the key in the circuit box and unlock the door. “You’re still so young, Claire. Only twenty-two. I didn’t know what I wanted at that age. How can you be so sure?”
“Because it’s never changed.”
“But it could.” He slides his hand around my waist to the small of my back and pulls me up against him. “You wanted to know if I wanted you. Can you feel what you do to me?”
His chiselled arms tremble around me as he nibbles my lip. “But your family is my family. I’ve been so lucky to have them. I’m not going to break my loyalty to them for a fuck. Do you understand?”
***
Razer’s words have been doing laps in my head and breeding questions I need answers to. Like why the hell he’s so damn certain I don’t know what I want. If he were anyone else then maybe I’d believe him. After all, it’s only been a week since I called off the eng
agement. I should be holed up, sinking ice cream cocktails like they’re made of air instead of mega-doses of calories, while crying into a scrunched up wad of Kleenex. But I’m not, because as soon as Razer rode back into my life, I realized he still held my heart in the palm of his hand. What I wanted hadn’t changed since I was sixteen. Sliding out of bed, I pad to his door. It’s near silent in the dark hallway and for a second I hesitate.
Not because I’m scared of rejection. He’s already doled that out in bucket-loads. But those butterflies have multiplied tonight, diving and dancing between my ribcage and my belly. When he opens this door I’m not going to give him a chance to try to change my mind. My fist hitting the door sounds overloud and I cringe as I double guess whether he’s still awake. His footfalls are heavy but muffled by the thick carpet before he pulls open the door and my tongue rolls out of my head.
He’s wearing nothing but a pair of loose track pants that sit low on his hips. I can see the solid cut lines of the V that leads beneath the waist, into territory I’ve seen but never, ever thought I would actually get to touch. As he leans against the doorframe, scrubbing a hand over the thickening scruff on his jaw, he runs his gaze over me. It settles on the hem of my T-shirt, his T-shirt. The one that barely covers my panties. “What are you doing, Claire? I thought we were done with this.”
I don’t say anything as I take his hand and lead him into my room. My hands shake as I shut the door behind me. All the words I could say won’t convince him that I mean it when I tell him I want him. So instead I take his hand and lead him to the bed. Razer’s a man of action, and the only way to persuade him that I mean what I say is to prove how far I’m willing to go to have him.
He stares at me, his eyes full of heat even when his control is so tight I fear it might snap at any moment. My knees hit the edge of the mattress and my chest tightens. I’m not sure where to start. This isn’t exactly how I foresaw my first time. I thought I’d be married, in love. It should have been romantic. Do I strip and lay on the bed and wait for him to make the next move, or…?