Swiveling on his stool, he took in the living room. The couch looked nice and soft. The white fabric covered plump cushions and pillows. Smaller blue pillows were precisely placed near each armrest, though. Picture perfect, with the karate-chop crease right in the center. He was seized with the urge to mess them up, preferably while rolling around with Claire on the wide seat cushions.
There was the surprising accent here and there, though. Seemingly out-of-place but interesting. The bright orange lantern sitting off to one side of the mantel, the Magic Eight-ball on the other. The rusty iron bookend holding up an impressive line of cookbooks on one kitchen counter. The messy ponytail in Claire’s hair.
That was his favorite, really. That ponytail. It left a strand of hair in front of one cheek, just shy of long enough to tuck behind her ear. It left her neck smooth and vulnerable, and made him want to run the tip of his tongue over it until she shivered. He had to fix this, though. The melancholy he saw on her face that he suspected was his fault.
He just wasn’t good at this stuff. Relationship-y stuff. Fucking he could do. He could make a woman cry as she came before finally letting himself go. He could trace every inch of a woman’s body and promptly forget every damn detail in the light of morning. He knew he could do that. He could fuck and forget and move on.
He didn’t want to do that with Claire, though. Maybe it was because she lived in his brother’s backyard. Maybe it was because he’d spent twice as much effort trying to get to know her than he ever expended on a woman. Maybe it was because when he’d told her every damn detail of his presentation she’d been completely engaged and invested.
Or maybe it was just because she was the cutest, hottest woman he’d seen in forever. He didn’t want to just fuck and he didn’t want to fuck this up, whatever this was.
“What do you want me to do, Claire?” he managed to ask.
She started, then stared at him with those big blue eyes. “Nothing.”
That one word said it all, though. She wanted nothing from him. He nodded and moved to get up when she placed a hand on his forearm. Her touch sent a spark through him and he looked over at her in surprise.
“Just let go,” she whispered.
And then she wrapped her arms around his neck. He caught her, turning to drop his hands to her hips and hold her between his thighs. Her body was so soft, her breasts pressing just right against his chest. Her nipples teased him through his shirt and he shuddered. He was hard in the next instant and, when she eagerly rubbed against him, he didn’t think she minded. The purring sound she made told him she liked his reaction very much.
“Claire,” he said, bringing his lips to her. “God, Claire.”
She opened her mouth over his and he kissed her back. Hard. Her taste filled him. Garlic and tomatoes and olives from the pizza. And that vanilla he knew he’d always associate with only her. When she sucked on his tongue he groaned.
He buried his face in her neck. “You’re driving me crazy.”
She nodded and murmured something he didn’t catch, then let her head fall back. He couldn’t resist. He licked her neck like he’d fantasized about just minutes before. He had his hands on her ass now, and she wriggled as if trying to get closer. He didn’t need any other invitation. Pulling back, he put his hands on her upper arms.
“Couch,” he managed to say.
She nodded and licked her lips and he swallowed. Man, her lips looked so dewy soft he almost groaned again.
Tumbling with her, they messed up the pillows as he pinned her beneath him. He had to get that sexy little top off of her. He had to see if her skin was as soft as it seemed. If her nipples were as pink as he imagined. Grabbing the hem, he pushed her shirt up and out of the way. And sucked in a breath.
Pearly smooth skin covered her breasts, which were firm and round and tipped with delicate rosy peaks. His mouth watered.
“Damn, you have pretty tits.”
She giggled. Actually giggled. He decided he liked this Claire, too. This easy-going girl who seemed to want him to touch her everywhere. He closed a hand over one breast and she moaned. Ah, that was an even better sound. Pinching lightly, he teased her. Her nipple puckered tight and she gasped. He couldn’t wait much longer. He had to taste her. His mouth covered her breast and he suckled. Her vanilla scent was strong here under her shirt. Hot and sweet and she tasted just as good against his tongue.
She arched and he slipped an arm beneath her. Her fingers ran through his hair, tugging and pulling whenever he did something she liked. And she liked a lot of the somethings he did. Licking. Sucking. Biting.
He was hard as a rock as he pressed against her, and her cute pajama pants had a nice stretchy waistband. Slipping a hand down the front of her, he parted her curls and found her wet.
“God,” he said again.
He glanced up at her and found her staring at him, her breath coming fast. “Touch me, Jake. Please.”
He stroked her softly, earning a growl from her. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip.
“Deeper,” she whispered.
He smiled down at her. “What was that, Claire?”
She muttered something and opened her legs wider to him. “Deeper,” she said again.
He pushed two fingers high inside her and she cried out. “Yes!”
He stroked her, in and out as he teased her clit with his thumb. Kissing her, fondling her as she rose toward climax, was the absolute best time he’d had with a woman in a long time. Just let go? Oh, he’d get her to let go. As many times as it took. He brought his mouth to her breast again and licked the nipple.
She came in a rush, bucking against his hand as he kept up the pressure. He lifted his head to watch her come and he thought he’d never seen anything so pretty. She was wild and free and beautiful, with that pretty pink blush spreading all over her body.
“Claire,” he said, dropping his head to her neck.
She was dewy there. Sweet and a little salty now. She let out a little sigh as he kissed her where her neck met her shoulder.
“Wow.” She took in a deep breath, which pushed her breasts more fully against him. “I’ve never… Not like that anyway.”
He laughed, which was amazing because he was throbbing so hard now he could hardly breathe. “So this is you letting go?”
Her eyes slowly opened and she smiled up at him. “I guess so.”
He kissed her lips and lifted himself up on the hand beneath her. “I liked you telling me what to do. I found it surprising, though.”
She smiled as she pushed her shirt down. “And I’m surprised you liked being told what to do.”
Shifting on the couch, he tried to ease the pressure on his cock. She moved to sit up and he grunted as her knee brushed against his groin. To his shock, she reached out and cupped him.
“Claire,” he said, half moan, half plea.
“You’re hard, Jake.”
“Yeah.”
Her fingers traced over him and he hissed.
“And big,” she said, popping open the top button of his fly.
He had no words for that one. She somehow eased down the zipper without killing him, then wrapped her hand around his shaft. Her fingers were soft. Delicate. Just right. It wouldn’t take much for him to come right now. Right in her hand, which he didn’t think he’d done with a girl since high school.
“You’re killing me,” he said, letting his head fall back on the couch. He eyed her from beneath his heavy lids. “You’re just killing me.”
She glanced up at him, eyes sparkling, and a corner of her mouth curved a bit. He could watch her face all night. Could watch the curiosity and arousal etched on her flushed features. Her hair was a mess but she looked adorable. Her teasing fingers drew his gaze quickly from her face to where she was stroking his cock.
“You need to come, too.”
He nodded. Why deny it? The woman had her hand on his pulsing dick. She knew what she was doing to him. He lifted his head and looked at her face agai
n. Didn’t she?
“Claire.”
“Yes?” She brushed her thumb over the top and he shivered. “What do you need, Jake?”
He bit his lip. “Make me come,” he rasped.
She smiled, then brought her mouth to his. He kissed her as she straddled his thighs, using both her hands now to drive him crazy. She went tight and fast. Slow and light. She had skills he didn’t think she knew she had. He was wild now, so close to coming all over the two of them. He lifted his shirt just in time to cover her hands with one of his and come hot and wet onto his stomach.
She kissed his mouth again and sat back. After a long beat, blood returned to his brain. He eyed her, read the pleased expression on her face, and laughed.
“I take it that’s my tip,” he said.
She giggled again and fell against him.
Chapter 8
Claire slept in on Saturday morning. Jake had stayed after their messy mix-up on the couch. They’d talked over coffee and cookies which he ate after only remarking once about how perfect they looked. It was strange sitting there with him after losing her mind underneath him. And then stroking him to climax? She’d never done that before with a guy. The few encounters she’d had in her life were limited to friends-with-benefits in college that were relationships that barely classified as friends in the first place. She’d come a few times before. But what Jake had done with her body last night? It was amazing and left her wondering just how much fun really letting go would be.
“Never going to happen,” she told herself as she got up and out of bed.
It was a sad realization, but heavy petting was as far as she would let things go with Jake Chapman. She didn’t want a friends-with-benefits thing again. Not at her age. And what did that leave? Professing everlasting love over a picnic on the lake? Yeah, right.
She was going to see Cally today. To check in and find out why he’d been so fidgety last week. Maybe they’d go to the End Zone for some wings. He always liked that, getting out of the fifty-five plus environment and shooting a few games of pool. Even with his failing sight in one eye he was still a shark.
He’d taught her everything she knew about pool. She was better at it, though. Mostly because he played with emotion and she played with math. Charm could only go so far on the felt, and she usually ended up beating him pretty well. It was a point of pride with Cally when she won, though. He never pouted or bitched about it. In fact he bragged all over the place about his daughter the pool shark, even though she never tried to hide her abilities from any opponent.
After she showered and dressed, she stepped into the kitchen and saw the wine glasses still on the counter. She’d gone to bed without cleaning the kitchen! It was a small victory but she’d take it.
She hummed to herself as she washed the glasses and put the pizza box in the recycling bin, then wiped down the counter. Glancing at the couch, she saw the pillows were still all over the place. God, she’d had such a messy happy time with Jake on those pillows. She’d known he was built, but when he’d lifted his shirt right before his climax she’d nearly swallowed her tongue. His abs were perfection, and she regretted her hasty decision to never repeat last night. No, she’d wanted to lick him all over every bump and dip in that glorious body and now she was bummed she would never allow herself the chance.
Last night she’d been wild Claire. Messy Claire. A Claire she barely recognized in the light of day. Today she was once more reliable Claire. Steady Claire. The math mind of Cypress. Ugh.
She threw the dishcloth in the sink and cursed.
***
Her father’s mobile home was snug and set on one of the many roads that made their even and ordered way through the retirement community. She parked under the carport next to his Thunderbird, the last car he’d earned as a bonus for Salesman of the Year. That momentous event was ten years ago, before his gambling took so much of his time he began to phone it in at the dealership. The car was looking a little dusty but the small convertible was sleek and it had a retro sixties look Claire loved.
It was poppy orange. It was her favorite color but, despite having bought some clothes and accessories in it, she would never dare wear it with her coloring. It had more of a pink undertone than yellow, and she couldn’t resist buying a few things for her house in that color for a treat now and then. Yes, the car was a beauty. It made her Prius look like sensible shoes set next to f-me pumps on a shag carpet.
The postage-stamp yard was tended by the maintenance staff, paid for from the monthly dues she had taken directly out of her account. That, and the payments on the mobile home. The lot, at least, was deeded to her. Not to Cally. He’d balked but there had been no way she’d let him put his name on another legal document of possession. Not after losing his house in Melbourne three years ago.
She climbed the two steps to the porch and rapped on the aluminum frame of the screen door. She could hear the TV inside, set to one of the golf shows that seem to be on every channel on Saturdays.
“Dad?” she called.
She heard quick steps and the door behind the screen was opened. Her father looked out at her, a big smile wreathing his face.
“Claire-bear,” he said, both of his blue eyes sparkling with equal brightness. “Come in, come in!”
She smiled at the nickname she’d had for as long as she could remember. She pulled open the screen door separating them and stepped into the living room. Her eyes ran quickly over everything, taking in the rumpled newspaper on the coffee table and the dishes stacked in the sink. Setting her purse on the round kitchen table, she began to straighten up.
“So how was your week, Dad?” she asked, running the water in the sink.
“Same old same old.”
His words echoed Tammy’s but her father couldn’t know that.
“I thought you went to Gatorland the other day.”
“We did.” He waved a hand and started to fold up the newspaper. “It was fun, I guess. You know, they have this zip-line thing that lets you glide over the gators?”
She straightened. “Please tell me you didn’t do that.”
He laughed, throwing his head back. His close-cropped silver hair caught the light coming in the big front window. “No friggin’ way were they getting me up on that thing. I might be half-blind but I’m not stupid.”
Claire clicked her tongue. “You’re not half-blind. Have you been taking your meds?”
“Yes, honey.”
He tipped his head toward the blue plastic pill tray with the little lids on each daily compartment set on the counter. Every week she filled them up for him and she saw that he hadn’t missed a dose.
She smiled. “Good.”
He moved around the living area, fluffing the pillows and placing them near the armrests, and she knew he did that for her benefit. She washed the dishes and set them in the rack to dry, then wiped the few crumbs off the counter. For a guy losing his sight in one eye, he kept the place pretty tidy.
She turned and leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms. “So what would you like to do today, Dad?”
He shrugged. “I’m up for anything. You know that.”
She met his bright blue gaze, feeling the charm the man had in abundance. Yes, he was up for anything. She knew he would give anything to get her to drive him out to Melbourne to the track, but that was so not happening. He didn’t ask outright. In fact, he never even eluded to it more than a couple times a year since losing everything. But still, she knew the desire was there. The compulsion for another big win.
Waiting a beat, she quirked an eyebrow at him. “What would you like to do today?” she asked again.
He opened his mouth, then shook his head with a laugh. “You’re calling the shots today, Claire-bear.”
His wording made the decision for her. “The End Zone, Dad? Maybe shoot a few games?”
“Now that sounds good to me.”
They locked up and stepped down onto the driveway.
“Why don’t
you drive my baby today, Claire?”
Claire looked at the Thunderbird with near lust in her heart, then gave a quick shake of her head. She held one of the keys to it on her key ring since Cally couldn’t drive any more. She would just continue resisting that temptation.
“No, no. We’ll take my car.”
He just shook his head and climbed into the passenger side when she unlocked the doors. “Electric car. Never had to deal with the things when I was on the lot.”
“Hybrid, Dad. Electric and gas.”
He snorted. “Like that makes any more sense?”
Cally caught her pointed look when she sat in the driver’s seat and fastened his seatbelt. He opened his window to let in the fall breeze and Claire did likewise, knowing fully what would happen as they drove down the narrow streets.
“Hey there, Cally!” a trim, gray-haired woman called from her tiny front porch.
“Hello there, Nancy,” Cally called back with a wave. “Going to shoot pool with my daughter today. You should come along!”
Nancy twittered. “Maybe we’ll have another shuffleboard match,” she returned.
Cally laughed and winked in Claire’s direction. “Nancy’s a widow. Lots of time on her hands.”
“I’ll bet,” Claire said.
“Cally, you’re looking good this morning,” another lady said from where she was watering her patch of lawn.
“Back atcha, Paula,” Cally said.
A few of the men they passed waved and shouted to Cally too, and Claire smiled. He was a charmer and, basically, a good man. People were always drawn to him. Her mother had been head-over-heels for him since the second she met him, as she’d told Claire time and again. And he’d been a loyal husband and loving father.
That was what made all the crap he’d put his family through all the more tragic.
***
Jake sat on the tech-wood planks next to Nick, watching the boy’s little legs swing back and forth as the two of them fished off the dock. The lakeside was across the street from Rick and Harmony’s house, and the setting was perfect if a little tame for his tastes. He much preferred the more primitive far lake shore.
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