When I pulled up in front of the building I took a few moments to catch my breath before glancing in the rearview mirror. Dad was right about one thing, just the thought of Clay made my cheeks flush with color and caused the lilac in my eyes to gleam a little brighter.
“You are ridiculous,” I murmured to myself before casting a sideways glance at the warehouse. “This whole thing is crazy.”
He’s in there waiting for me.
I wondered whether he’d had any second thoughts after our conversation yesterday. He’d left the decision in my hands, but what if he’d changed his mind? Tracking me down to fulfill a fantasy that had been consuming him was one thing, but to stay was another entirely. There was nothing to say the reality was anything like he’d hoped it would be. As if to counter the doubt, Clay’s words from a few days earlier played in my mind. “It was as perfect as I’d dreamed it would be.” Steeling my resolve, I breathed out as much of my anxiety as I could and climbed out of the truck.
For the second day in a row, I slid the large roller door open. Instead of making me jump like it had the day before, the sound gave me hope that Clay would know my answer long before I reached him. A flutter of delight tickled inside my chest at the thought. Before the door had even fully opened, Clay’s hand shot out, and he pulled me into the darkened corridor. I yelped with surprise, but the noise barely left my mouth before Clay’s lips were on mine. One of his hands caressed the back of my head while the other wrapped around my waist and pulled my body against his. He’d clearly been waiting for me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and used my grip on his hair to tug him closer to me. Our bodies entwined together in a close embrace, and with my eyes closed, every available sense was filled with him. The blood that raced through my veins became super-heated as my heart pounded out an unsteady beat. Against my chest, his racing heartbeat echoed the speed of my own.
Reluctantly, I pulled away from him. “Hi,” I breathed into his mouth, still just inches from mine.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his lips quirk up into a smile. “Hi,” he murmured back just as quietly. “You came.”
I grinned back at him. “Was there really ever another choice?”
He touched his lips to mine for another brief encounter. “Not for me.”
“Nor me. I had to at least see.”
He stepped away from me and reached for my hand. “I’ve set up a little something for you.”
I tilted my head in question.
“Follow me.” He tugged at my hand before leading me back through the labyrinthine space to his office hideaway.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
The question made my heart stop for a second. Despite what I’d thought on the way home, I still couldn’t say that I trusted him implicitly, but I was willing to try in the hopes that one day I could.
He seemed to sense my hesitation. “Do you trust me . . . enough?”
I grinned at the effort he seemed to be going through to help me. It proved that either his emotions were real or he was setting up the most elaborate trap ever.
Despite the terror that had burned through me at the mere idea of his presence only days earlier, or maybe because I’d lived with it, I believed we might actually fit together perfectly. So when I answered, “Yes, I do,” it was almost in response to his first question. Almost.
“Then close your eyes.”
After complying with his request, I was left in the dark when the jangle of the door handle started before cutting off with the creak of an opening door.
His calloused fingers wrap gently over my eyes to stop me from cheating. I wanted to challenge him, to ask him why he didn’t trust me to keep my eyes closed. We’d danced around the “T” word enough for one day though.
“Step forward,” he whispered against my ear. He directed me over the threshold and into the room. After we’d stopped, he released his hold over my eyes. “And now . . . open!”
CHAPTER SIX
MY MOUTH curled up at the edges as I turned a small circle of the single-most romantic space I could have imagined. The changes to the way the room was set up were relatively minor, but they combined to make a big difference. The holes in the roof were covered with blue tarps, darkening the space but also leaving it with a soft blue ambiance that was inviting. The sleeping bag had been rolled away, and in its place were two chairs and a fold-up card table covered with a plastic tablecloth. It wasn’t flowers and frills, but it was obvious that Clay had put significant effort into perfecting all the little details, which was worth more to me than any expensive grand gesture.
Battery-powered, tea-light candles littered the surface of the table and twinkled intermittently around the floor. In another corner was a battery-operated docking station with a media player already in-situ.
I swallowed down a lump of emotion that clung to my throat at the thought that not only had Clay done all this, he’d done it all for me. “What is this?” I asked as my stomach fluttered with the butterflies that had been absent since I’d last seen him but were now back with reinforcements.
“Yesterday, I got a little tongue-tied, but I wanted to ask whether you would be willing to . . . ” He scrubbed the back of his neck again. “Stop being an idiot and just spit it out Clay,” he muttered to himself.
I resisted the urge to chuckle at his unease. “This is a date?” I asked to help him out.
“Why does it sound so much better coming from you?” he asked with a smile.
“How long did it take you to set this up?”
“I started almost the moment you left. But, well, I wanted to do the, umm, roof anyway, but the rest . . . is it okay?”
“Okay? It’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” True, it was probably the only thing anyone except for my Dad had ever done for me, but that was beside the point. The fact that he’d gone to so much effort for me, overnight, left me with a strong urge to show him with my lips the things I couldn’t adequately express with words.
“I know it’s not much, but I thought you might be more comfortable for our first date to be somewhere that you didn’t have to hide yourself.” He reached for my hand and rubbed tiny circles against my palm as he spoke. Even that small, innocent touch sent my pulse racing.
“It’s perfect.”
“There’s a little more,” he said, dropping my hand and racing around to finish his set-up. He pushed play on the music before placing an insulated bag on the table. “I got us some lunch.” He stopped in his tracks and looked at me before his hand neared the back of his neck again. “I mean, it’s nothing special, just cold cuts and bread, but it’s not a real date without a meal, right?”
This time I couldn’t stop the chuckle before it passed my lips. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re adorable when you’re nervous?”
“I’m not nervous,” he said, a little too quickly.
“Really? Not at all?”
“Okay, so maybe I’m a little nervous, but . . . Wait, adorable?”
“Like a puppy.”
He raised one eyebrow at me before stepping toward me. “A puppy?”
“Yep, a puppy.”
“Is that a good thing?” he took another meaningful step toward me.
I shrugged and followed his lead by moving closer to him. “Girls like puppies.”
“Do you like puppies?” He covered the last of the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me.
“I do like puppies,” I whispered.
“Why is this conversation about dogs?” He seemed almost breathless as his mouth rested inches from mine.
“Why is this conversation still a conversation?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I should stop the conversation.”
“Maybe you sh—”
His full lips grazed softly against mine, effectively silencing my voice and my thoughts. Our mouths met, and our tongues danced together as if they’d performed the steps a thousand times before. His long fingers traced del
icate paths along my spine as his hands explored my back, causing my body to shudder with anticipation and desire to pool between my legs.
Eventually, we broke apart from our impassioned kiss, and he spun me in a slow circle. I giggled at the impromptu dance.
“Do you ever imagine what our prom might have been like?” he asked after a few moments, his voice low and gravelly.
I wondered what thoughts were going through his mind.
“No,” I said honestly. After everything that had happened, simple things like prom and graduation no longer seemed important. They were childhood fantasies, and I didn’t have a life or future to speak of—what good was a teenage dance? “I never went back to school after Ohio.”
He continued to rock us in a slow circle. “I did think about. I still do.”
“Did you go?” I asked. “To prom, I mean?”
He shook his head. “Lou did though. You’d have thought it was her wedding the way she carried on about finding the perfect dress.”
I didn’t want to talk about his sister; it just made me think of the danger his family posed to me and made the heat of my body spike for all the wrong reasons. “Why didn’t you go?” I asked to change the subject.
Looking down at me solemnly, he shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t have a date.”
I laid my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. “What do you think about? I mean, when you think about our prom?”
He hummed softly, the sound vibrating through my cheek. “What it would have been like walking in with the prettiest girl in the school.”
Lifting my head off his chest, I raised my eyebrow at him skeptically.
“It’s true,” he said with a chuckle. “I often wonder what the rest of high school would have been like if you hadn’t disappeared. Don’t you? I mean, if you hadn’t been what you are, or I hadn’t been who I am . . .”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. Would I have stayed if I’d thought there was a chance he might feel this way about me? It didn’t really matter because one thing was clear—if I wasn’t something other, we might have had that normal high school experience he’d dreamt about.
“It’s me who should be sorry. If I hadn’t reacted the way I did . . .” he trailed off, and for a moment the rhythm of our slow dance stopped. “Maybe things would have been different.”
“Maybe, but we’ve got this second chance now. There’s no point agonizing over the past.”
“You’re right,” he said, tracing my jaw with his fingers before rubbing his thumb along my cheekbone. “You know what the worst thing is?”
“What’s that?” I murmured as my eyes fell closed to enjoy the tenderness of his touch.
“That I have to bring you on a date somewhere like this,” he waved his hand around the small office space.
“I like it here,” I said. “It’s quiet.”
He chuckled. “I know, but Evie,” he placed his finger on my chin and guided my gaze to his, “I’m with the most beautiful girl in the world—I wish I could show her off a little.”
My stomach fluttered at his words and the loving attention in his gaze that matched them. “You were right,” I murmured. “You are dangerous to me.”
He frowned in confusion.
“Dangerous to my self-control.” Reaching my hand up to grasp a fistful of his hair, I guided his mouth to mine and demonstrated exactly how dangerous his words were.
Breathless and with lips that were both full and fulfilled, I pulled away from his embrace with a smile. “I never expected it to be like this,” I murmured.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, so perfect. This whole day has just been so far from anything I’ve ever experienced. I feel like it’s all just a dream, and I’ll wake up in a moment and this feeling that I have here in the pit of my stomach will be gone.”
His lips stretched into a wicked grin. “Where was that feeling?” he asked. “Here?” He pressed his palm against the bottom of my ribcage. “Or here?” He splayed his fingers down over my stomach. Then he pressed his whole body against mine, trapping his hand between us before sliding it down into the waistband of my jeans. “Or here?” he breathed against the inflamed skin of my neck while his fingers grazed against the top of my panties.
“Oh god,” I murmured in response to the sharp spike of pleasure that coursed through my body the instant his fingers had brushed against my bare skin. “I want you, so badly.”
“I can’t lie, I want you too,” he growled against my ear before nibbling my earlobe. “But not like this. Not here. I want our first time to be something more special than anything I can offer you here. I promise it will be worth it.”
I whimpered as he stroked his fingers back and forth across my skin.
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t make you feel good, exactly like I’ve dreamed of doing for years.”
Even though I didn’t think it was possible for the fire smoldering in the pit of my stomach to rage any hotter, his words added tinder to the flame and made my whole body burn in the most delicious way.
His fingers continued on their downward path until they were rubbing against the outside of my panties. The moment he crossed the most sensitive parts of my body, he pushed his mouth against mine and continued his frenzied assault from earlier. The combination of his uninhibited kisses and the relentless rhythm of his fingers left me in a state of perfect bliss. Every sense seemed heightened, and Clay controlled each one. I saw only him. Heard only his breathless declarations murmured against my wanting mouth. Tasted only the perfection of our mingling tongues. Experienced his touch through every part of my body.
Allowing my eyes to drift shut to better enjoy the pleasure of the moment that stole over my whole body, I wrapped an arm around his shoulder to support myself. His gaze burned a path along my body. My lips parted as all the heat in my body rushed toward the place where his fingers continued to stroke against me. I cried out as the sensations grew too strong to contain.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured.
I opened my eyes and came undone at the way he looked at me. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me as I succumbed to a sensation wilder and more wanton than anything I’d ever experienced.
Panting and completely spent, I tipped my head back and fell into the support of his embrace. With one arm secured around my waist, he held me upright and kissed my exposed neck.
“So goddamn beautiful,” he whispered between kisses as I trembled in his embrace.
OVER THE last week, I’d returned to his warehouse every day, and we’d spent a precious few hours together. Each day when I arrived to see Clay, he’d had a different date set up in the tiny space. Regardless of how the room was arranged, most of the dates ended up the same way, with both of us using every inch of self-control we had not to constantly maul each other with kisses—or more. Each day it was that much harder to leave when the time came.
“What do you want to do with your life when you get older?” Clay asked.
At some point during our latest daylong date, he’d packed away the table and chairs and unfolded the sleeping bag. He’d asked whether I could stay until sunset and then pulled down one corner of the tarp so that we could lie and watch it together. I had quickly settled between the bicep and shoulder of one of his strong arms, with my cheek resting over his heart. The hand of the arm that he’d wrapped around me was pressed against one of my palms, and I tenderly played with each of his fingers with my own. Resting in that perfect spot, it was easy to forget the danger outside the walls, and I couldn’t think of a place in the world I’d rather be.
“I haven’t really given it much thought,” I admitted. I turned in place to glance at his profile. He always seemed to be able to surprise me with his questions.
He tilted his head toward me, and our faces were so close that we were breathing the same air. “How do normal people do this?” he asked. “How do they decide what to do with themselves?”
&
nbsp; “You’re asking me that?” I snorted.
He chuckled. “I guess you’re in the same boat as me. The rest of my life is stretching in front of me, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with it.”
“How do you plan for the rest of your life when you don’t even know that you’ll live beyond tomorrow?”
“I’m so selfish,” he groaned as he squeezed me tighter. He twisted his head to look at me, leaving his mouth just inches from mine. “Here I am wondering about how to navigate the future without the path that was laid out for me years ago. I never even thought how it must be for you.”
“Constant death threats and running do tend to put a dampener on life dreams,” I joked. It was a false bravado because the truth was this topic of conversation hit close to home. Too close. “What’s the time?” I asked as the thought of home reminded me of my responsibilities and promises to my father. When I’d agreed to stay for the sunset, I’d known I’d have to leave partway through. I’d become lost in the moment though.
Clay showed me his watch.
“Crap, I’m late,” I cried, dragging myself to my feet. “Dad is going to flip.”
“Surely you’re old enough now to be let off the leash a little?”
“It’s not about control, it’s about trust. I told him I was going to work. I need to go home, right now. He’s bound to be so worried.”
“It’s okay, Evie,” Clay said, moving to stand beside me and holding my hands in his own. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”
I wasn’t so sure. Although Dad had relaxed visibly since I’d learned the truth, he was still on constant high alert for threats to my safety. If he found out I’d been deliberately lying to him, to meet up with someone from the Rain no less, well . . . I wasn’t sure I could fix the wounds that would create.
Maybe I should have told him the truth sooner?
I’d wanted to wait until I could introduce Clay properly first. I’d hoped that maybe then, Dad could see why I cared for Clay the way I did. I could explain the near-certainty I had that Clay wouldn’t be a danger to me. The longer I waited, the harder it would become to convince him that lying was the best option under the circumstances—and arriving home hours later than expected, long after it was dark, wouldn’t help win Dad over to our side.
Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire Book 1) Page 4