The Sweetest Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book)

by Amber Scott

  Jace’s mental protests silenced. A feeling of unreality pervaded his thoughts. Sitting there, hearing the words he’d longed for, for so long, drugged his sensibilities.

  He found himself nodding, taking her hands, and turning them palm up so Claire could lace her fingers into his. And her skin—her warmth—felt like it belonged there, holding his hands. He shouldn’t say yes. “Do you want to follow me in your car?”

  Claire let out a shaky gasp and nodded.

  The server boxed up the strawberries and chocolate. Claire took them with her. Jace paid the bill and had difficulty walking, rather than sprinting, to his car. Keeping Claire’s SUV in his rearview sights, he sorted out his muddled thoughts over the short drive. Yes, this seemed too good to be true and, of course, there were still the very sticky matters of Oliver and Tyler to consider. The chance of having Claire, naked and wanting him, took over. Everything else became secondary to claiming this woman as his own.

  His tires squealed as he cut the last corner and maneuvered slowly into his driveway. He waited, steadying his breath. He refused to become a bumbling idiot in these last few moments, until Claire pulled in.

  He wanted to grab her hand and walk her up to the door, into his home, but he remained staid. Claire seemed just as affected, thankfully, and kept equally quiet and stiff. He stepped inside after Claire. With the click of the lock, time spilled away.

  Claire turned around, dropped her purse to the floor, and kissed him.

  Jace groaned. He no longer cared about resisting, or fearing what this was. Whatever his actions would mean or cause, or who they might hurt, turned moot under such powerful need. For once in his life, he was willing to take a chance.

  Greedily. Hungrily.

  This woman was his. All his. Only his.

  Claire cupped his face and grabbed a fistful of his hair. Her length pressed into Jace’s, her breasts hot and soft, nipples hard and tickling, legs firm and round. Jace’s mouth watered. “You taste like chocolate,” he said, pulling her hips closer.

  Claire nodded, capturing his mouth again. Jace pulled her shirt up, accessing her silky skin. His hands roved upward, memorizing the smallness of her back, the dip at her waist. The exact heart shape of Claire’s plump ass. God, she was so much more attractive than he’d imagined or remembered.

  His erection strained for freedom. He held back, though. This was the first time. He had to make it perfect. They were alone, yes, and for once, they had the whole world closed off to explore, indulge, and savor every last breath. The realization warred with his body’s urgency to rush.

  He had to take this slow. Jace slowed his kiss, slowed his hands, forcing himself to breathe her in. This moment was for all those nights of missing her and wondering where she was, and whether he should have done things differently.

  He kissed her lips and licked her tongue. He buried his nose into the spot on her neck behind her ear and stayed there, memorizing the fit of her body against his. He gripped Claire’s ass, pushing his hips forward so that he could feel her firm, soft mound against his erection. Claire gasped, wriggling. She wanted more. So did he. So much more. He needed skin on skin, bare and wet and hot.

  He needed to see her face as he sank his body into hers.

  * * *

  Claire couldn’t think of anything but getting to a bed and tearing all her clothes off. What an idiot she’d been! So many wasted years. Years she could have had this exquisite man all to herself. His kissing alone would have been worth the drama and upset that being together would have caused. And though she tried not to rush, her body reveled in his every touch.

  His hot breath on her neck. The way he caressed her thighs like he couldn’t believe they were real. Her ass. God, his erection fit so perfectly against her. She could climax right then and there. Jace’s abated breathing, his tense, desperate movements. The hunger in his kisses. It all electrified Claire’s desire, amplifying the need coursing and coiling within her.

  She tore the edge of his shirt up and palmed his hard pecs. Jace groaned, pressing into her. They needed a bed.

  “Where can we go, Jace?” she whispered against Jace’s neck, pressing her breasts to the hard contours of his chest. “I need you.”

  Jace’s heavy-lidded eyes stared at her. “Bedroom,” he said and scooped her up into his arms.

  Claire wrapped her legs around him. No part of her could find a reason to say stop. Not Oliver. Not Tyler. What did that say about her? She just ached for him too much to stop. And, while her heart should be thrilling in this moment, she couldn’t shake the fear that at any moment, he would come to his senses on their behalf. Just like before.

  Then they reached the bed, and he laid her down. Something in Jace's blue eyes gave her pause.

  “Don’t disappear,” Jace said.

  Is that what it had been to him six years ago? Her, disappearing? “I won’t. Promise.”

  Jace exhaled, and the strange look in his eyes seemed made her heart squeeze. This wasn’t an easy choice for him. But it was a choice. He was choosing her.

  She’d hurt this man more than she’d realized. He’d been willing to face the storm, come what may, six years ago. Fear had sent Claire away. Fear of what her parents would say, of what loving the wrong twin meant in every corner of her world—her very tidy world. Not just the wrong twin, but a regular guy with an amazing family who had overwhelmed her. The enormity of it all had overwhelmed her.

  It all seemed so silly now.

  She saw now that being with Jace could only have lit the shadows and broken the darkness and the loneliness. Disappear? No. She couldn’t run away again because without this light—which before had scared her, showing her things she wasn’t ready to see—Claire might now lose sight of her true self. Reaching out, she touched Jace’s cheek. This was a threshold that they would cross together. A new beginning. There was no need to rush.

  She had to cherish this.

  Whatever storms would follow, they would ride them through. Oliver, the wedding, her parents, his parents, her job—all of it. With Jace at her side, she could brave anything.

  Jace touched her cheek. Claire leaned against the touch, eager for more. She brought his hand to her mouth, kissing Jace’s fingers one by one, watching the goose bumps run over his skin and the flicker of desire in his eyes. Jace yanked back the sheets and tumbled on top of her.

  Claire laughed, kissing him with all her might.

  He returned it, and then his kiss deepened. His mouth made magic on her senses. A rush of wetness formed between her thighs. Her skin tingled with anticipation and desire. Her body screamed for more, for her to hurry, the pinnacle of pleasure being so close. But she didn’t listen. She listened to her heart.

  He undressed her piece by piece, his gaze eating her up. Hers did the same to him, watching every layer come off, right down to his erection. Oh, what had she gotten herself into? She scolded herself, remembering that there were worse things than falling for a well-endowed man.

  The warmth of his skin on hers pushed the juvenile thoughts about size away. She grasped his flesh and explored.

  Jace moaned into her mouth and drew closer. His skin was so warm, his contours so thoroughly masculine. Claire’s breath became ragged. A flutter of need permeated her limbs, her belly, and her throat. She nearly shook from it, and when Jace settled between her legs and their bodies slinked together, a throb of near orgasm rent inside her.

  Jace’s hands cupped her breasts, squeezed, massaged, and flicked her nipples, making Claire gasp, close her eyes. Another throb went through her. Her good intentions about rushing warred with anxious need.

  One more perfect press of his erection to her sex, and she might come undone. She knew it, couldn’t stop it, and didn’t really want to. Maybe Jace read her mind, or perhaps her body’s plea, because he quickly slipped a hand between Claire’s legs, simultaneously sucking her lower lip. He slid two long fingers into her aching heat.

  Claire cried out as climax tore through her
in rhythm with Jace’s strong, deep strokes into her core. Wave after wave jolted through her, and as she reached the topmost brink, he whispered. “Show me. Open your eyes, Claire.”

  She opened her eyes and bared her soul to Jace in a moment so vulnerable, so pure, that she prayed it spoke the words that still came with difficulty.

  I love you.

  I need you.

  Jace’s eyes filled with emotion, and more than a touch of arrogance. Yeah, he had a right to gloat. She’d never climaxed so fast or hard. Though her body quieted, it was by no means satisfied, though. She wanted more. With a sly smile, she nudged Jace in his back and began an oral assault. She traveled slowly down his navel, delving her tongue along each hip and down to his inner thighs. The way he watched her gave her a sense of heady power.

  She could show off a bit, too.

  She nibbled each inner thigh, sucking and licking her way upward, taking her time, enjoying Jace’s hips beckoning her forward. The tall shaft jerked as she drew closer, teasing her mouth away and back again.

  Claire’s mouth watered. She swallowed. She wrapped her lips around the swollen tip. Jace groaned, his hands came to her face. He stopped her.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “God no. I just don’t want this to end, and it will if you keep going.”

  “Really?” she couldn’t help it. She was surprised and kind of impressed with herself.

  “You have no idea how hot your lips are, do you?”

  “Uh, no?”

  He pulled her up and kissed her. “So hot.” He rolled her onto her back. “Your body, too. Better than any fantasy.”

  “Which means you had a few?”

  “About you?” He pulled her arms to lay wide and trailed his hands down her arms, drawing circles on her breasts. “All the time.”

  “Even after?”

  “Worse after. My brain kept trying to fill in the edges. To guess and wonder what I was missing.”

  He frowned a little and came down to kiss her. Her cock pressed back to her core again. Claire stroked his face and opened her body to him. “I’m so sorry.”

  He closed his eyes, his shoulders tensed and he put his forehead to hers. “So am I.”

  She kissed his chin. He kissed her nose. He put his mouth on hers and pushed into her. Claire gasped at the fullness, the pleasure. At the sheer masculine power behind the stroke. He entered her like she was his. Like he was making a claim to her and the thrill that realization brought stunned her.

  She wanted him to take her, to unleash his lust on her. Thrusting her hips and meeting his bedroom eyes dead on, she dared him to do it. To drive into her again and again. Jace’s eyes narrowed, but delight shone in them.

  “You’re so wet,” he whispered.

  His throaty voice did wild things to her. He slid out and back in, a little bit harder than before. In and out, he stroked. She met each with measure, never taking her eyes off his. That is until another climax clawed to the surface and pulled her under.

  “Jace!” she cried out, a plea for him to keep thrusting, keeping diving his body into hers so that each new shattering wave could grip onto his hard flesh and crash in pleasure. He answered her wish and as her orgasm’s last quake hit, he sank into her.

  Again and again, his cock throbbed. His head went back. A low, animallike grunt escaped his lips, and just like that, Claire was claimed.

  Coming back down to earth didn’t hurt as much as she would have guessed after getting so high.

  “I can feel your heart beating,” she said, placing her hand on his chest.

  “Slamming,” Jace said, then laughed. “It’s slamming in my chest almost as hard as my body just was.”

  Claire grinned so hard her cheeks hurt. She pressed a kiss to Jace’s cheek, and in doing so, rolled closer. She wanted to cling to him, and so, of course, she did the opposite and rolled back to give him space. Now was no time to be needy.

  “Come back,” Jace whispered, far less breathless. “Come back to me.”

  Claire obeyed, joy shooting down to her toes, making them wriggle.

  All thoughts and worries eased away. Jace. His name felt like magic, like a talisman warding away the world, the past, the risks of life and what loving him here and now meant.

  Light in the darkness. But the darkness was there, waiting. Oliver. Her parents. Being totally shut out. The whispers would follow her for weeks.

  Jace wrapped his arms around her in a tight cocoon. Claire could hardly move to curl into him and she realized when Jace’s hands began to stroke her hair and his voice soothed a soft, “Shhh,” that tears were rolling down her cheeks.

  “Shhh. Don’t be scared, Claire. Don’t be scared,” he said. “I’ll never hurt you. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

  Claire’s heart leapt and sank all at once, and all she could do was hold on. And never let go. Not ever, ever again.

  ~~

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jace lay, limbs entangled with Claire’s, and watched his bedroom walls wash from light to dark as the sun left the day. What now? He didn’t know how long they lay together, unmoving, as he listened to Claire’s breathing.

  She’d cried. Jace wasn’t about to ask why. The only reason he could think of—that she regretted making love with him—made him sick. So he refused to let it sit in his brain longer than the moment it appeared. Surely, Claire’s tears came from joy, from love, and from being so utterly happy.

  It was lovemaking. Like he always imagined. Like he had always yearned for, but couldn’t find anywhere else. His Claire.

  He was pretty sure his Claire was making his arm fall asleep, too. But, he wasn’t willing to move and risk the euphoria enveloping him. He’d have to get up to empty his bladder soon. Just

  . . . not yet.

  His cell phone rang again from the living room, muffled and incessant. Leave a message, he silently ordered whoever was calling for the fourth time in at least an hour. If it was anything important, the person would call his house phone, too. Or leave a message.

  Part of him nagged with worry that it might be Ashley. But, Ashley would call a lot more and call both phones, plus text, plus scream into the answering machine. The ringing ended, and Jace let out a breath. Claire hadn’t awakened.

  He listened, amused over his lame outgoing message. Funny how different things were now compared to the day he’d recorded it. He’d just met Bels, had changed it in an attempt to sound ... something. Cool? Aloof?

  Turned out, he hadn’t needed either.

  Bels. God, he hated having hurt her. She was a good woman, too. He wished what he had now in this moment for Bels. She deserved a really good guy who could love her all the way.

  The house phone rang. He’d let the machine get it. Probably his mom. Might be Ashley after all. The machine beeped. No dial tone, though. It was Tyler. And he sounded agitated. Shit. Jace’s gut pinched with guilt. Tyler. Letting Claire sleep wouldn’t keep reality away, after all. There was so much they had to talk about, decisions to be made, and questions to be answered.

  No way was he going to let Claire leave without a plan. Not like last time. Tyler’s voice rose on the machine, and his stomach tightened further. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Tyler said he was on his way over.

  Jace’s pulse triple-timed. Tyler couldn’t come here now. They needed time to strategize. Claire would definitely run without a plan in place. Hell, he might run himself. He eased out of Claire’s embrace, grateful that she didn’t wake up. Treading softly, he went to the kitchen, turned down the volume, and played the message.

  “Jace, it’s me. Listen, I’m on my way over, so if you get this or any of the messages I left on your cell, stay put or get home. I know I’m freaking a bit, but I need to talk, and you’re the only one I can talk to. It’s about Claire. I’m ten minutes away.” Beep.

  Jace stared at the phone. He grabbed his cell phone and called voice mail. Four new messages. As he listened, each one worse, Tyler talking faste
r about a dream he had and timing and muffled stuff, he became aware of his nudity. Even more so, of Claire’s.

  He padded quickly, quietly back into his room and grabbed the first fistful of clothes he could find. Closing the bedroom door, he dressed in the kitchen, cell phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulder and listened again to each message—each relating different, increasingly panicked, versions of Tyler on the way.

  He was coming. And he was in a panic over Claire. Jace’s mind raced with the horrible possibilities of what Tyler might have discovered, of what he might see. Had Tyler somehow found out about that night six years ago, or worse, about today, or last night?

  What else could there be?

  If he had, then Jace had some serious explaining to do, and having his brother’s lost love lying naked in his bed would nail the coffin lid shut. Claire had to get out of here. Now.

  As the last message ended, he tossed his phone on the counter, zipped his jeans, half- wondering why they were so loose, and crept into his room.

  He sat on the bed and shook Claire’s shoulder. God, he hated to do this. But he couldn’t exactly not answer the door, not with his car—shit, and Claire’s car—sitting right there in the driveway. Stupid idiot. He should have answered the phone.

  “Claire,” he said. She looked so peaceful in sleep, features smoothed, mouth relaxed. “Claire, honey, you have to wake up. Tyler’s on his way.”

  Awake, she always had a tenseness to her face, as if she was always anticipating stress.

  “Claire,” he said, speaking and shaking more firmly.

  “Hmmm?”

  “You have to wake up. Tyler will be here any minute, and he’s worked up. Something about you.”

  Claire’s eyes slammed open. “What about me?”

  “I don’t know. I think he knows.”

  She sat up, breasts bobbing, tantalizing. Jace scolded himself for noticing and dragged his eyes back up to Claire’s. They were wide with worry. “He knows?”

  “I think so. I’m sorry to do this, but can you leave?” He touched her cheek, trying to soften the blow. “Now?”