by J. M. Madden
“Hello, Charlene. I would like to introduce you to Sarah Tyler. My date,” he added pointedly.
Charlene giggled and ran her hand over Clayton’s back, lingering on his shoulder. She positioned herself so that her rather remarkable breasts were near his line of sight, before turning her gaze to Sarah. Within seconds, she had been assessed and dismissed.
“Yes,” the woman purred. “I’ve heard about your little artist.” This was said with as much contempt as could possibly be shoved into it.
Sarah’s anger spiked, and it was a serious test of her control not to say something to the catty witch, but Clayton beat her to it.
“If you don’t mind, Charlene, we were just finishing a very lovely dinner before you stopped.”
Clayton was being very polite. The woman heard the dismissal but chose to ignore it. Leaning down, she whispered into Clayton’s ear, “Let me know when you’re done with this one, and maybe we can take up where we left off.”
Sarah maintained her polite smile, even though the words had deliberately been loud enough for her to hear. Clayton finally brushed the woman’s hand off his shoulder and adjusted his position away from her, before looking at her one last time.
“I don’t think so, Charlene.”
The woman’s lips pursed as she saw Clayton’s determination and distaste, before she turned to Sarah.
“Don’t get too attached to this one,” she advised. “He’s a frigid bastard.”
Sarah smiled brightly. “I haven’t found him to be that way at all.”
The woman strode away proudly, back to her own glowering date. She made sure as she went, though, to attract as much attention as she could with her swinging hips and high breasted carriage. Clayton’s eyes were guarded as Sarah turned to look at him, but Sarah knew the look now. It was the ‘you can’t hurt me because I’m too cold to care’ look, that Sarah knew he used to cover his feelings. It hurt her heart to see, but she understood that Clayton was still not sure of where he stood, and only closed down to protect himself. It was sad that he’d had to develop this behavior in self-defense.
Reaching across the table, she wrapped her hand around his clenched fist, smiling gently. “Are there any women in your life who don’t want to scratch my eyes out?”
Smiling ruefully, Clayton turned his hand in her clasp, teasing her fingers. “I’m sorry about that. Charlene was a long time ago, but every time I see her she makes the same offer.”
“At least she has the sense to know what she lost.”
Clayton looked at her oddly before finally shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s her motivation. I think she’s put out because I broke it off with her, not the other way around.”
“Ah…” Sarah nodded her head.
Switching topics deliberately, she nodded at Clayton’s untouched dessert. “Are you done?”
He nodded his head before pulling his hand away from hers and motioning to the waiter for the check. In no time at all, the bill was taken care of and he escorted her out of the restaurant, her elbow clasped securely in his hand. There was no sign of Charlene or her date when they left, and that made Sarah very happy. Clayton automatically turned toward the parking lot, but Sarah pulled him to a stop.
“Mind if we walk on the beach?”
Without a word, he led her down the plank boardwalk ramp to the beach. Sarah immediately slipped off her heels, leaving them at the edge of the boards, so she could dig her toes into the still-warm sand. She looked pointedly at Clayton’s obviously expensive leather shoes, hands on her hips.
“Do I have to?” he asked. Sarah could tell he was reluctant, yet intrigued.
Shaking her head, she tried not to let her disappointment show. “Of course, you don’t.”
Turning away, she headed down the beach. The moon was almost completely full, and she could not help but be overwhelmed by the romance of the night. Other than a dogged ex-girlfriend, it had been a perfect evening out, and this would cap it off beautifully. Clayton caught up with her, and she was proud to see he had taken off his shoes and socks, and had even rolled his pants up. Tugging on her hand, he pulled her to the edge of the water. Sarah gasped at the coldness of it. It was mid-July, and she assumed it would have had a chance to warm up, but it was still chilling. Her toes acclimated quickly, though, and she found herself accidentally splashing Clayton with her play. He pretended not to notice, but somehow she managed to get splashed as well. Sarah laughed and their play continued until Clayton called a halt and waded up to the beach. His pants were wet up to the thighs, but Sarah was happy to see he was grinning at her. Removing his suit jacket, he spread it out on the sand for her to sit down, before reclining back on his elbows, with his ankles crossed.
“You’ve ruined a perfectly good pair of pants,” he scolded sternly, although his beautiful eyes were crinkled in laughter.
“Me?” she asked him incredulously. “Well look at what you did to my dress!”
The hem was sodden and hung chillingly against her thighs. Clayton dutifully looked at the damage to her dress, but seemed more interested in the thigh underneath it, which he was revealing with a wandering finger. Sarah let him explore, because she planned on doing the same. Her eyes flicked to the beach, but no one else was visible. The sun had set a long time ago. There were stretches of houselights, but nothing really close by. She wondered how far Clayton would go if she continued to allow him to explore.
Clayton seemed in no hurry to do anything; he was just gently running his finger up and down her thigh, to her arm clasped around her knees. Sarah would have let him do it forever, it felt so good. And, she realized, he had voluntarily reached out to touch.
“Do you get accosted like that a lot in restaurants?” she asked him quietly.
With a sigh, he reclined back on his left arm, with his body turned toward her. Sarah regretted that she asked because he stopped touching her, pulling his hand back to himself.
“Enough that it gets tedious. Especially here in town. My mother has been very up front about wanting me to marry into the right family, letting me know and the families she thinks are acceptable. I have no real desire to get married.”
Sarah’s heart clenched in pain and she turned her face away so he could not see the tears that immediately filled her eyes. It couldn’t get any plainer than that, huh?
“You’re the first woman I’ve been able to have a decent conversation with,” he continued, and Sarah’s heart began to beat again. Perhaps it was not a totally lost cause. Trying to wipe her eyes without him seeing, she turned to him with a gentle smile.
“Actually,” he continued, “I’m astounded you even bother to talk to me. Most women can’t tolerate me for very long. She was right, you know. Charlene, I mean. I am a frigid bastard. In every sense of the word.” He looked out over the water, mired in his own thoughts.
“Oh, please!” she scoffed. “I love talking to you. I’ve enjoyed every aspect of getting to know you. And I definitely do not think you are a bastard. That word holds an entirely different connotation for me than you.”
Clayton eyed her dubiously for several long seconds, obviously trying to ascertain if she was telling the truth. Sarah’s heart hurt at the shadow of distrust she saw there. It was so natural for him to be leery of women.
“I’ll miss your conversations when I’m gone. And other things,” she said slyly. It was hard to tell him the rest. “I’m almost done with Tory’s portrait.”
She was surprised when he bolted upright. “How long?” he bit out.
Sarah shrugged her shoulders, trying not to read too much into his reaction. “A couple weeks, maybe. I can’t say exactly.”
Clayton didn’t say anything for a long time, just stared out at the gently lapping waves. Finally, he turned to look at her out of the corner of his eye. “Please, take your time.”
Sarah understood the deliberate, delicate, emphasis she heard in his voice. He wanted her around, but he wasn’t ready to actually tell her that. Sarah felt
the same way. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but the worry persisted that he would think she was after something. Looking for a free ride or something equally as distasteful. Or even worse, that she wanted to be with him because she pitied him. Reaching out, Sarah ran her hand gently back and forth across his back, before finally resting her head there.
“I’ll take my time,” she told him finally. Some tension in him relaxed. He let out a long breath before turning to her and giving her one of the gentlest kisses she’d ever received. But it wasn’t enough for either of them. One gentle kiss turned into another and another, building in intensity until they were both lying on his ruined suit jacket, trying to climb into each other’s skin. Sarah pulled his shirttails out of his waistband, and whipped his pretty tie over his head so it wasn’t dangling in her face. Clayton had rucked the skirt of her dress up to her waist, grinding his erection into her damp panties as he clasped her hips in his strong hands.
“Oh, Clayton,” she moaned, wrapping her arms around him.
For a long moment, his movements stilled completely, and they merely held each other in an embrace. Shudders wracked his body. Clayton’s heated breath panted on her shoulder. It was the sweetest, most heart-rending thing she had ever felt, and once again her eyes filled with tears she struggled to push away. She would not think of leaving him yet. She refused.
Running her hands up his sides, Sarah scrunched her neck to the side enough to encourage Clayton to lift his, nibbling at his ear with her teeth. Nestling his nose behind her ear, he inhaled deeply, before pulling back to look down at her. “I can’t get over your smell,” he grumbled. “It’s everywhere. In my room, in the limo. Always teasing me.”
Sinking his lips into hers, Sarah moaned. The distant worry of somebody seeing them was totally blasted away by the heat. Sarah could not think of anything more important than having Clayton inside her as soon as possible. Reaching down, she fumbled with his belt buckle, jerking it open only enough to reach his zipper. Clayton stilled as she slipped her hand inside to grip his rock hard length, running her thumb over the creamy moisture at the tip. Clayton’s growl rumbled in her ear, sounding especially deep and tortured. But he didn’t pull away. Squeezing tightly, Sarah ringed his erection with her hand and pulsed her way to the top, alternately squeezing and releasing. Groaning long and loud, Clayton pushed himself into her hand, compressing it to the point that she couldn’t move anymore, only pulse. For several long seconds, this was enough, but he suddenly pulled back with a gasp.
“No, hold on.”
Panting, he levered himself onto his hands and knees above her, with his arousal darkened eyes glittering down at her. Sarah retrieved her hand as he slipped the capped sleeves of her dress off her right shoulder, bestowing wet, nibbling kisses. The dress was elastic enough that Clayton had no problem exposing her breast to the salty air. Her nipple had already hardened, but Clayton nibbled his way around the fleshy part of the breast, totally ignoring the tip. Sarah found she was holding her breath, waiting for that final contact that never came. He worked his way down her belly, leaving her breasts entirely, and she almost screamed in frustration, until she realized where he was going. Pulling her dress out of the way, Clayton tucked his fingers into the side elastic of her panties, gently drawing them down, torturously dragging out the moment. Sarah’s legs quivered as she waited for his next consuming touch. After several long seconds, she looked down her body to try to catch his eyes, but he stared at her lower body as if in a trance. Reaching out, Sarah ran her hand seductively up her inner thigh, snagging his attention. Clayton smiled and tossed her underwear over his shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen anything so beautiful.” His arousal deepened voice rumbled deliciously, sending chills up her spine.
Slowly, delicately, he ran a finger up her soft cleft, teasing. Sarah moaned as he gently circled her clitoris, making her hips shift convulsively. With her eyes closed, she didn’t see him dip down, but she certainly felt him as his tongue followed the path of his finger. Oh, sweet heaven! Sarah gave herself up to the sensation, her hips convulsing up into his mouth as he played. She couldn’t believe how hot his mouth was on her sensitive skin. She yelped involuntarily as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, and Clayton paused there, doing that same motion over and over again. Sarah was helpless to stop the orgasm that washed over her, and she was just as helpless to stop her fingers from clutching Clayton to her.
Finally, she felt him move away and her heart cried. He couldn’t leave yet! But he was back quickly and she felt him playing in the juices of her release with his erection before he slid home. They both groaned simultaneously. Was it normal to feel this connected after such a short amount of time? Sarah did not know, but she clutched the feeling to her protectively. She knew instinctively that this was special, and unique, and precious. And never to be repeated.
Wrapping her arms around him, Sarah pulled Clayton down to her as he rocked above her. He whispered something into her ear, but she couldn’t tell exactly what it was, though it made her feel like she belonged to him. It was so hard not to tell him she loved him.
Clasping her ankles behind his back, Sarah tilted her pelvis higher, and was rewarded within seconds with another shattering climax. Clayton groaned as she did and lost his rhythm, pounding into her harder and harder. Sarah could feel her back plowing into the sand as he pistoned into her, unable to temper the drive for release. With a mighty shout that made Sarah glance around the beach nervously, Clayton announced his own release, his body quivering and twitching with his climax.
Sarah could not stop pulsing, and Clayton could not help moving slowly to her pulses. Both of their hearts were pounding their chests, and they were both dragging in lungfuls of air.
Clayton finally slid out of her. Sarah felt their mingled juices running down the cheek of her butt, but she could not force herself to move. It was amazing. Clayton could not seem to get any further than her side, lying on his own, facing her. Rolling her head to the side, she could see he was as whipped as she was, sweat glistening on his skin and his eyes closed. His dress shirt gaped over his heaving chest. Looking down, Sarah could see her own essence shining on his relaxing skin and pride slammed into her. This was an absolutely beautiful man, and even if they were caught on the beach having sex, she would be proud to stand beside him.
Although, it could create some real issues back at Hillcroft House.
Forcing herself to sit up, Sarah was happy to see and feel there was no sand to deal with in sensitive areas. Clayton levered himself up beside her, tucking himself in and trying to straighten his clothes. A rumbling chuckle beside her drew her attention. “You have got to be a witch, casting a spell over me or something. I can’t believe we just had sex on a public beach.” He glanced around furtively.
Sarah grinned at him and leaned over to give him a kiss on the lips. “Nope, not a witch, sorry. This is all your fault.”
Finished adjusting his shirt, he stood up to fasten his pants and belt, but he paused when she said that. “What do you mean it’s my fault?”
Sarah finally stood up off the jacket and walked over to retrieve her panties from where he’d thrown them. Her purse lay a few feet away and she quickly pawed through it for the Kleenex pack inside. She disappeared behind a lone bush for a moment to take care of personal business, then returned to his side. “Just what I said. Your fault. If you weren’t so damn cute, there was no way you could have gotten me so carried away on a beach.”
They were both laughing as they retrieved his mutilated suit jacket from the sand and started back toward the restaurant. Within a hundred yards they passed another couple heading in the opposite direction, and they shared a conspiratorial look. Just a few minutes more and they would have been caught.
Sarah was thrilled when Clayton grabbed her hand and held it all the way back to the car. For a man who was leery of every little touch when she’d first gotten to the house, he was really loosening up. When she released hi
s hand to wipe the sand off her feet and slip on her shoes, he ran his hand over her bare back, teasing her with his fingers. He went through the motions of getting in the car and started out, then reached for her hand again. Not that Sarah was complaining. She loved it. And him. The fact that he did not want to stop touching her gave her hope that his feelings were developing as well.
Sarah rested back into the leather bucket seat and just watched him drive, running her fingers lightly over his long, elegant fingers and masculine wrist. For the first time in a long time, she was actually content. It seemed like for so long she had been angling for glimpses of the reclusive boss of Clarion, or listening for snippets of conversation about him. She had dreamed many times about what it would be like to be with him. She found, though, that the reality was so much better than the dream.
When they arrived at Hillcroft, everybody had gone to their own beds. They snuck up the stairs and into Clayton’s room, undressing as they went, and climbed into the shower. They both seemed too tired to do anything other than scrub each other down and crawl, still damp, between the sheets. Clayton wrapped her in his arms, and was snoring lightly within seconds. Sarah was not far behind.
Chapter Thirteen
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The next day was a regular day. Clayton woke her for a quick romp to start the day before they cleaned up and headed down to breakfast. Several times throughout the meal, Tory eyed them oddly. Sarah knew they were probably unsuccessful in keeping their relationship secret, but she found she didn’t really care. She followed Clayton when he left the dining room and gave him a scorching kiss in the dark hallway before he went out the door. He smiled lopsidedly, endearingly, and brushed a kiss on her forehead before jogging down the steps to the limo.
Tory was cooperative and the time flew as fast as Sarah’s hands over the canvas. Sarah was both amazed and dismayed at how splendidly the portrait was coming. At a little past six, she and Tory headed upstairs to get cleaned up, but Tory hesitated in the hallway. “Can I ask you something?”