I slip my arms under his jacket, slowly running my hands down the expanse of his back, enjoying the feel of those taut muscles under my fingers. When I reach the waistband of his jeans, far from being satiated, I want more. So, I bring my hands to the front, slipping them under his shirt. I just need a little skin-on-skin contact. Once I have that, I become aware that one of his hands is on my waist. The other cups my ass, pulling me against him until our bodies are flush against one another. And sweet heavens, he is hard.
When we pull apart for air, we're both panting. Blake drops his head in the crook of my neck, resting there.
"You taste so good, Clara."
Feeling his heated breath on my skin makes it hard to think. I look over his shoulder to the surroundings, but the thick foliage of the tree and the dimming evening light is shielding us from view.
///
"What are you wearing?" he asks.
"Hmm?"
"Your underwear. Describe it."
The last two words sound unmistakably like a command, and my body reacts before my mind, pressing into him, seeking more contact. Not answering doesn't even occur to me.
"Matching set of white cotton and silk."
"Thong or G-string?"
I lick my lips. "G-string."
"How wet are you?"
"Blake...."
"Tell me how wet you are!"
The command comes on another heated rush of breath that undoes me. I'm so turned on I don't know what to do with myself. I'm almost ashamed.
I press my thighs together. "Very."
With no small dismay, I realize my hands are still under his shirt, right at the waistband of his jeans, feeling him up. But what do I do? Do I let go? No, sir, I do not. Instead, I trace the defined lines of his abdomen, the steel muscles.
His hand goes up to my hair, tugging gently, but I have the distinct impression he's barely holding back from being rougher.
"What are you doing?" I whisper as he starts breathing in deeper.
"Calming down. Trying to think about anything other than taking you somewhere private and making you come."
I lick my lips, trying to swallow a moan. I fail. It tumbles from my lips, and Blake's reaction is almost visceral. A groan reverberates from deep within his chest. It is a pure, masculine sound, and it's calling to me on a primal level. I don't know for how long we stay like this, limbs intertwined in a manner that is passionate and tender at the same time, but I like the feeling of his arms around me.
"I can't believe you backed me up against a tree." I chuckle when he finally steps back.
"I can't believe I was able to stop at that."
Well damn. I walk around him, stepping out of the tree's crown. Blake follows my lead. I'm still a little light-headed and very turned on. I need a cold shower. Stat.
My shower, which also shares a wall with Blake's. Somehow I don't think a cold shower would help all that much.
"Let's continue our climb," I suggest.
We're silent with the effort of climbing, and then we fall into an easy conversation on the way home. But when we step into the dimly lit and narrow stairwell of our house, suddenly, the air between us is thick with tension again.
"Want to walk me up to my door?" I elbow him good-naturedly, hoping to diffuse the tension. No such luck.
"Nah, I'll just kiss you against it."
"You're something," I mutter. Blake traps my gaze with his for long seconds.
I quickly step away, unlocking my door. As I step inside the apartment, I feel a tiny bit safer, even though Blake still looks all too potent and sexy.
"Good night."
"Good night," he replies, and I close the door.
I head straight to the shower, about to turn the water on, but then I hear water noises from Blake's shower too, and for a split second, I don't move at all. I'm ridiculous. We probably showered at the same time numerous times in the weeks I've been here. Yeah, but that was before he kissed me against a tree.
A low groan follows, which really must be a loud one, but it's muffled by the wall.
And then Blake rasps out my name. My knees buckle. The realization that he's touching himself while fantasizing about me hits me with such force it knocks the breath out of my lungs. I listen intently for a few more seconds, just to make sure I'm not imagining this, but there's no mistaking the reason behind his continuous groans. I can't help it; I join in on the fantasy. Closing my eyes, I imagine him on the other side of the wall, naked, all that lean muscle and strong build on display, his hand sliding up and down his erection fast and then faster still.
Every bone in my body liquefies. I'm beyond turned on, and I can't bear the ache between my thighs for one second longer. I slide my hand down, Blake's groans fueling me. I'm dripping with desire. I move my fingers over my opening, up until I reach my clit. Tension builds inside me until my body is tight with it. I'm right on the cusp, and I need my relief fast. I need it right now.
I imagine Blake's hands and lips on me. A thought nags at the back of my mind. Does he know I'm here? If I can hear his shower, then he must be able to hear mine too. The recognition almost sends me over the edge. Every cell in my body seems wired to my clit, and I move my hand more furiously than before. I press my other hand against the wall, seeking his skin, but encountering only the cold tiles. I want to break down this wall and reach out to him. I need him so badly. I want him to fill me up and whisper dirty things in my ear. I've never wanted anyone as desperately as I want Blake. Ever.
///
"Oh fuck. Clara. Fuck!" The low guttural sound reverberating on the other sound of the wall sends all my senses into a tailspin. I pinch my eyes shut and come so hard, I grip the railing of the shower for support.
"Blake!"
I'm beyond shame or caring, and I chant his name again and again until I ride out my orgasm, fully aware he must hear me. When I open my eyes again, it takes a few seconds for my vision to return. My breath is coming in pants, my desire satiated and at the same time magnified. I move my hand from the shower railing to the wall again, as if I could somehow reach out to Blake that way.
After I calm down, I finish my shower and step out. The mirror is smoked up from all the heat, and I drag my palm over it, cleaning it until I can look at myself: red cheeks, hooded eyes, ridiculously satisfied grin.
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the weakest woman of all?
Clara.
Even with a wall separating us, Blake and I just crossed a very dangerous line.
CHAPTER NINE
Clara
"The specials are on the front page."
I nod at the waiter, taking the menu he's handing me. I'm meeting Pippa and Summer for happy hour. I haven't seen them since the wedding almost five weeks ago, which is five weeks too long. I love being with these girls. They understand my crazy. More than that, they usually join in on it too.
Twenty pages filled with cocktails. Complete overkill. When the girls enter the venue, I wave to them, and my palms sweat lightly.
I never can hold my tongue when I'm around them. Well, I rarely can hold my tongue, but my oversharing affliction is worse around them. I don't want to tell them about kissing their brother last Thursday. I'm not even sure why, but I feel it's smarter to keep the information to myself. Big mouth that I am, I already told Kate and Penny. Penny was ecstatic. Kate, the traitor, also cheered me on.
As the girls sit down, I open the menu to the page I think has the most interesting cocktails. The two sisters resemble each other very much, even though at first sight they couldn't be more different. Pippa is tall and blonde, and Summer is petite and has light brown hair. But they both have the exact same defined cheekbones and plump lips.
"I didn't actually read the entire menu, but these seem interesting."
"Ain't nobody got time for twenty pages," Pippa exclaims, looking at the menu in bewilderment. "These sound good."
"How are the girls?" I ask Pippa after we order. Mrs. Bennett proclaimed she needed more time with her granddaughters, which is why Pippa has a free evening. Sometimes she plans girls' nights in at her house so she can keep an eye on the girls too.
"Oh, they are opportunistic little devils. They're all hugs and kisses when they're with me, and when they see Mom they jump right in her arms, and to me, they're like "we don't know you"."
"That's because Mom lets them eat chocolate in the evening too," Summer comments.
Pippa throws her hands up in the air. "They're gonna do that when they're adults anyway. I mean, look at me. They should at least have healthy habits when they're kids."