Secret Desire

by Taylor, Susan D.

  “You’re a good friend. I know you and Fran have a past. I don’t know exactly all the details but I thought you’d like to see her again.”

  He inhaled and held his breath. Nothing could be farther from the truth, but how could he tell Claire her sister was a fraud, didn’t care about her, and that probably any success Claire would ever obtain, Fran would dismiss or belittle?

  “You’re too good to be true. I wish I had a sister or someone in my family who was as good as you.” Fine. Great going. He didn’t mean he wanted her as a sister. Open mouth, insert boot.

  Her brows drew together. “By the way, what on Earth are you doing out so far from the house. Did you breakdown or something?”

  “Remember how I used to ride motocross?”

  “Do you still ride? Yes. You do. I saw you carrying two wheels the other night. That makes sense. I didn’t know what they were for and forgot to ask. What happened? Are you all right?”

  “Yes, just broke down, nothing exciting or dangerous.”

  “You’d make a great character in a story.” Her voice had gone soft, and she paused. “Well, here we are.” She pulled into the gravel driveway of his house.

  “Oh, you didn’t have to bring me back to the house. I wish you had a moment so we could talk.”

  “I do…you mean now?” She stopped in the circular drive and put the car in park. She opened her door.

  “Yes, let me get cleaned up. Do you want something to drink?”

  “No, I’m fine. I’ll wait on the porch and enjoy the swing. Just like old times.”

  “I’ll be right back. The door’s open if you change your mind. The house has changed a bit.” He watched her sit on the swing and push off with her toes. Those sexy legs were bare and her feet in sandals. Beautifully breathtaking. Once inside the door, he peeled off his shirt on the way upstairs. He jumped into the shower for a quick sluice and dried off walking back into his room. He threw the damp towel on the edge of his king-size mattress. He thought about Claire in his bed. Just the thought brought his dick into full salute. Damn, his cock refused to settle and stood out erect—hard and aching.

  He gripped his cock and nearly groaned aloud at the intense sensation. His hand raced up and down his shaft thinking about her breasts and the way her hips swayed. He thought about her legs, and how, if he sat next to her, her dress would rise above her thighs. She might want him now, all grown up. He could do things to make her scream. He wanted her to scream his name. His hand moved faster and faster over his cock, the pleasure mounting as he fantasized over her.

  He imagined his hand moving up her thighs, spreading her legs until her pussy was visible to him. He’d wanted to thrust his dick inside her the moment he set eyes on her this morning. He closed his eyes, imagining touching her, rubbing his finger over her slit and making her writhe with pleasure. He wanted to see her eyes brighten, her skin turn pink, and taste her as she climaxed. He shuddered, releasing himself into his towel. Good God, if she was this good in his imagination, what would it be like for real? He took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure.

  He slipped on a pair of shorts and polo shirt. He combed his fingers through his hair and headed back downstairs.

  The swing creaked in a familiar rhythm, making his steps quicken. He opened the door, relishing the slight widening of Claire’s eyes as they moved up and down him. “You approve of less dirt and mud?” He smiled, teasing.

  “Remarkable change, Mr. Murray.”

  He rested against the railing on the porch and decided he didn’t want a half-truth to come out and create more misunderstandings. If Fran was on her way back to Mill Spring, then Claire should finally know what had happened between them.

  “Claire, have you got a minute?”

  “Yes, I don’t have any plans besides contacting the estate firm Bob suggested.”

  “Remember when we were in high school. You and I almost became very close.” His mouth went dry and he hesitated, thinking about how to frame the words. “I kissed Fran thinking I was kissing you.” He said the words he’d wanted to say for years. Fran would have her side, but at least he’d have a chance. “Your sister knew I was infatuated with you. I told her the first time we went to the movies. I only asked her so I could find out about you and see if she’d help me. I wanted you as my girlfriend…not Fran. Did she ever tell you this?”

  She shook her head mutely. She’d stopped swinging, and the swing slowly stilled as she stared at him. He moved over to the swing, not meaning to touch her, but his leg brushed up against her thigh. She shivered, glancing down at their legs and then up again at his face. She bit her lip, and for a moment it was all he could do to keep from taking her by the shoulders and drawing her to him.

  He inhaled. “I didn’t think so. Your sister was so competitive. Fran hated to think I wasn’t attracted to her. She tried everything to get me interested—or so I thought. Then she pretended to be you. I never understood why, but she got me drunk and I don’t remember everything. She filled me in on the details afterward.” He paused, hoping she wouldn’t ask for particulars. He stood and walked the length of the porch, pivoted, facing her once more. He inhaled. “She threatened to tell your father. I panicked and believed you’d never talk to me again. So I stayed away. Fran grew bored and saw that you didn’t seem to care about our relationship. I guess she didn’t think it was fun anymore after that.” He stopped and watched her. Claire remained motionless in the swing, her arms wrapped around her stomach.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me? I would have believed you. I saw you two together, and yes, it was odd the way you both acted. I chalked it up to me being less than objective. But I don’t think we can make Fran out to be such a monster. She was popular and most of the guys at school wanted to date her.”

  “That’s not why most of the guys wanted to date her. Don’t be so naive. She ran around. She’d laid most of the guys at school by the time she left this town. That’s probably why she never wanted to come back. Once people call you a slut—”

  She bolted out of the swing and then slapped him across the face. He caught her arm, but seeing the tears well in her eyes his heart broke apart.

  “Be quiet. That’s not true.”

  He would not let her go this time. “Don’t.” He pulled her body closer to him.

  “Let me go. I don’t want to hear anymore. Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I’m not going to let my one chance at setting things right go wrong. If Fran comes back, do you honestly think things will go smoothly? I’d rather you know the truth and then maybe we could start fresh. You and me. I won’t allow our second chance to be ruined.”

  “I think you’ve taken care of that.” She was shaking, and he was falling, no longer capable of resisting the urge to feel her lips. He’d wanted her for so long. He released her arm and took a step, closed the distance between them. He encircled her waist with his hands.

  “Have I?” He looked down into her eyes, now bright aqua pools. Her lashes were long and spiky from tears.

  He ran his hand up her waist, over her shoulder, and pulled her close. He was almost a head taller than her, and he tucked her head under his chin. He felt her body tremble. He kissed her temple and inhaled the scent of her hair.

  “Dustin?” She lifted her face and tentatively brushed her hands across his arms. She touched his shoulders softly.

  He caressed her jaw with his thumb. “My God, Claire. I’m—”

  She pressed a finger against his lips. “Shh.” When she bit her bottom lip, he was a goner.

  He backed her up to his front door, covered her body with his, and pressed his hips into her. He held her wrists, wanting to pin her so he could savor her softness.

  “I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember.” If he opened the door, he was very certain what he’d do. He wanted to shed his clothes and undress her in the ways he’d imagined. He wanted to kiss every inch of her skin, taste her, and possess her as he’d fantasized a hundred
times.

  He kissed the inch of skin pulsing at the base of her throat. His cock throbbed inside his shorts. Despite releasing some of the tension earlier in his room, he was ready to explode.

  “Claire, do you want to come into the house?”

  A buzzing vibration came from her pocket. She looked down. “My phone.” She retrieved her cell, and he stepped away from her. He held onto the post at the corner of the porch. His body was on full overdrive, another second and he might lose control. He closed his eyes and took a breath.

  “I’ve got to go.” Claire’s voice hitched.

  He glanced back at Claire; her lips were pursed.

  “Is everything OK?”

  “No, there’s a problem.” She was still looking at the cell phone screen. “It’s my editor’s assistant. They didn’t receive my piece. I’ve got a deadline.” She looked up, her face was flushed and her hair had come undone, the blond locks spreading over her shoulders. He wanted to throw her damned cell phone as far as he could manage.

  Her lips were parted. He watched her chew the edge of her bottom lip. Heat rushed through his body. He inhaled, trying to focus on something other than her mouth and his erection. If it wasn’t for the interruption, he’d be on his way to fulfilling a desire that rode him harder than any motocross trail.

  His longing for Claire had pushed and prodded him through college. He wanted her and pursued an Ivy League education as if a piece of paper was the doorway back to her heart.

  “I’ve got Wi-Fi. Do you need to use a computer?” He tried to slow his pulse and sound coherent.

  “Yes. I do. But I’ve got the information on my hard drive. I’ll run home and get my laptop.” Claire gazed at him, a half-smile played on her lips.

  “I’ll walk you.” He waited for her reaction. She blinked as if lost in a thought. She dropped her gaze and then rebounded back to his face, a deeper glow showing on her cheeks, and her eyes widened with a look of surprise. She’d obviously noticed his excitement.

  “I think I’ll use my car. I don’t know exactly what I need.”

  He felt like a high school kid again, unable to control his body, almost unable to control his desire.

  This wasn’t how he wanted to get to know Claire as an adult. He’d imagine taking her to restaurants steeped in candlelight and soft music, with moonlit walks saturated with romance, and she’d fall in love with him slowly.

  He cursed himself for being a romantic fool as well as caving in at the first chance in getting her alone and in his bed.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve got work to do in the barn. I’ll leave my laptop set up on the desk in the den if you need to use it. It’s a wireless connection. No password needed. There’s a printer on the credenza. Just make yourself at home. I need to go get the motorcycle. If I’m not around, call me if you can’t find what you need. Hold on.” He opened the front door, reached for a business card, and handed it to her.

  She looked down at the card. “OK.” She pushed back the strands of blond hair trailing over her shoulder that had come loose while in his arms and tied a band around her hair. She gazed serenely back at him.

  All thoughts stopped in his head. He watched her wind her hair into a knot, her breasts pushed up against the front of her dress, causing the material around the buttons to strain. If he didn’t get off the porch immediately, he’d sweep her up into his arms and take possession of her mouth. And every one of his good intentions would go straight to hell.

  Claire smoothed her skirt. She looked down, almost demurely, and he watched her every move. She swept her fingertips along the rail and was graceful as she walked, hips swaying. Claire was near enough for him to bathe in her aroma, a mixture of woman and fresh flowers. He moved ahead of her and out of the path of his disintegrating convictions.

  He tramped down the steps. He held his hand out to her and registered the charge that was released when their hands connected. If just touching her made him giddy, he was fascinated by the possibility of kissing her.

  Jesus, what would it be like to make love to her? He inhaled her fragrance still lingering around him.

  That fantasy was one he’d played out in so many ways. Now, the reality was within his grasp. His desire for Claire ramped up another notch, if that was even possible.

  He opened her car door. She squeezed his hand before letting go. He held his breath, anticipating the moment when she’d bend and her dress top would fall away, revealing the swell of her breasts. He grit his teeth.

  He tapped the roof of her car. “Drive safe.” He stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  A smile tugged at her lips. “I’ll try my best considering the distance.”

  Dustin waved and pivoted, not wanting her to see he was nearly out of control with desire. He went back inside, pulling off his shirt, which he waded into a ball and hurled at the wall.

  “Brother.” He shed his shorts and put on an old pair of jeans.

  He’d dated woman, plenty of them, and not one had left him in this state. But he’d not thought about them for weeks on end, certainly hadn’t entertained carrying some kind of torch for years for any one of those women. Claire was different.

  She deserved to be courted and pursued, not tricked by physical desire. He wanted to pull apart and tease their attraction until both of them could not stand to be apart. He’d commit to being a miser with his desire to bide his time, correct the mistake he’d made, and win her back. This time for good.

  Chapter Six

  She didn’t want to call Laura in front of Dustin. She waited for him to go inside. “Of all the stupid mistakes.” She was convinced this had to be the worse. Well, almost. She’d barely escaped kissing Dustin. Hell, she’d almost gone to into his house and straight to his bed.

  He resembled the type of man who belonged at a polo club in some exotic location. He’d changed and kept changing, revealing a bit more of himself until there was no possible way to resist him.

  She wanted to kiss him, wanted to do much more. What would have happened if her phone hadn’t interrupted them? Her mouth went very dry.

  They shouldn’t become involved, not with Fran coming home. Suppose they had kissed or, heaven forbid, made love? A fleeting image of him, naked and between her legs flooded her imagination. She turned up the air conditioning and put the car into gear.

  Would it have been so bad? There was so much water under that bridge, she was nearly drowning. They couldn’t go forward without settling the past. Otherwise, Fran would make a mess of anything and everything related to Dustin and her. That one fact, she could take to the bank.

  Was it possible, after all this time, that she’d been mistaken? Stabbing pain hit the side of her head. She had no time for a migraine. She reached for her purse, pulled out her water bottle and looked for and found her bottle of ibuprofen. She uncapped the water and downed two tablets. She took a long sip of water, drinking in the coolness. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d suffered because of Fran’s ability to bend the truth.

  She hadn’t spoken with her sister, but with a large inheritance sitting on the table, if Fran didn’t come to help out with the house and estate, she might just tell her a thing or two. Claire’s nerves were frayed, and her familiar world had all but bottomed out. So much was happening so fast, it threatened to tear her apart. She could let it, or she could take a stand. Not be bounced around by others. Even in the midst of this storm, she could see a light at the end of long tunnel. What she needed to do was decide what the heck she wanted.

  She pressed redial on her phone. “Hello, Laura?”

  “Yes, this is Laura Shinster.” She sounded in a hurry.

  Claire swallowed and launched into her explanation, “Laura, this is Claire Robertson. I sent Ethos the wrong story. Sorry for the confusion, but I’m about to send you the correct story concerning diversity in the mayor’s race. You should my piece have in ten minutes max.”

  “Claire…the story has already gone upstairs.”

/>   Claire jammed on the brakes. The car stopped with an ugly screech. “What? That’s not possible. Upstairs where?”

  “Mike was given the thumbs up. He had a reading during the morning meeting. Kevin James was there. Apparently, everyone in the room wanted a copy and it’s like wildfire. You know upstairs is looking to expand.”

  “I’m being invited upstairs by Mr. James, the editor for Olympia?” Her mind was reeling.

  Ethos was part of Olympia West publications, a huge publishing house with a finger in every type of publication. With the new online market, Olympia was interested in expanding the publication of novels. Any and all fiction was welcomed, and romance was their biggest seller. The e-publication department was in the same building on the upper floors, the bigger, prettier offices, ones she’d secretly wanted to be invited up to and now the doors were being flung open.

  “Well, yes. Mike and Mr. James thought this was a perfect segue given someone with your experience. It’s about to be released in a special online preview with a follow-up in their end of summer romance releases through the Temptress line.”

  “No, absolutely not.” Claire tried to keep her voice level. “You don’t have my permission.”

  “Mike just walked into the office. How about you take this up with him? Hold on.”

  She closed her eyes trying to concentrate on what story she’d sent to Mike. She prayed it was one of the short stories she’d written about Seattle, but was unable to believe those would cause a storm of expectation in Olympia’s erotica imprint. A ringing sound interrupted her thoughts and she was transferred to Mike.

  “Claire Bear.”

  “Mike—”

  “You’ve created quite a stir in the office. When did you start writing erotica? Sweet Jesus, you are a pistol. Now, we’re thinking of the angle of doing a teaser with a follow-up interview of you as author before the Temptress release. We want you to present both sides of the writer coin building your presence online. You’d better start getting your platform together. A website, Facebook, and Twitter up and running.”