Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family)(32)

He cups my cheek, kissing the tip of my nose. "You defended my family?"

"Yeah. You too. She said some things. Never mind. Don't really think I set her straight, but at least I got it off my chest."

"You're amazing, Clara. Can I keep you?"

My heart flips, and I simply lean in to him, hungry for more contact. But then his eyes grow hard, startling me.                       
       
           


///
       

"What did she say about you?"

"Eh, standard bitchy stuff. That I'm insipid, invisible. Shouldn't have let it bother me."

He pulls back a notch so he's staring directly at me, eyes hard. "Just  so we're clear, you're never invisible. I see you. I've always seen  you."

"You say the sweetest things," I murmur.

"I mean every one of them."

"That's what makes you sweet."

"We really have to work on your compliments, darling. Might want to use some more masculine ones."

"Nope. Sweet about covers it."

Cocking a brow, he rests his hand on my shoulder, moving his thumb on my  collarbone. Shit. That's not a sweet spot for me, but right now, having  his hand there feels so good. Too good.

"You're also sexy." I lick my lips. "And intense."

He slips his thumb under the strap of my dress, his eyes never leaving mine. Holy bejeezus.

"Very intense. Keep your hands to yourself, mister." To drive the point  home, I push his hand away from my shoulder, inching back with my chair.  "We're in public."

Which I almost forgot until I mentioned it. People are milling around,  socializing. We're surrounded by the buzz of their voices and the  background music, but Blake made me forget everything. The table fills,  and as Ava sits, she leans in to me.

"By the way, at the next girls' outing, you're spilling every detail," she whispers.

I grin sheepishly. "Don't worry about that. If there's one thing I'm not good at, it's keeping my mouth shut."

She nods happily. "You have that post-hanky-panky glow that only comes from excellent hanky-panky."

"Glow? I'm so far past glowing, I'm practically a neon sign."

The lights dim again and the show starts back up. We all watch in silence, and I'm in awe once more.

Once it ends, a number of people crowd in on us, congratulating the  family on the excellent show. One such person is Caroline. I know her  from the various Bennett weddings, and she even joined us for the odd  girls' outing. Such a pity she and Daniel broke up, and then she drifted  away from the family.

With chagrin, I realize that seems to be my own story, minus the over  part and the drifting away part. No, no, this is different. I went into  this with eyes wide open. Blake and I are enjoying each other while  we're neighbors, and that's it. I'm not harboring any secret dreams of  happy ever after. Okay, so I am harboring secret dreams; sometimes  they're so secret, I manage to convince myself they don't exist.

"Caroline, long time no see," Ava says.

"Not that long. I was at the wedding."

Ava makes more small talk with Caroline, but I'm busy observing  Daniel-specifically the way he looks at Caroline. With longing. Well,  well.

My meddling tendencies are rearing their head, but pffffffft...I'm a  little fuzzy from the champagne. This might be a task for the master  meddler, Pippa. Or at least a sober Clara. Before I can whip a coherent  plan here, Caroline's gone again.

***

I'm unsteady on my feet as Blake and I leave the venue a few minutes later.

"Can we walk a few blocks and then grab a cab?" I ask Blake, needing some fresh air.

"Sure."

"How can I be so light-headed?" I ask, holding on to him for dear life.  I'm really unsteady on my feet. "I just had two glasses."

"Three. You drank mine too," Blake exclaims.

Oh crap. Well, that explains why my glass wasn't getting empty even though I kept drinking.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you, my drunk girl."

"Tipsy," I correct.

"Got it."

"But I'll pretend I'm drunk if it means you'll take care of me."

We come to a halt between two Jacaranda trees, and he pulls me flush against him.

"I thought you didn't want me to take care of you." He nuzzles his nose  against mine in an Eskimo kiss. Ah, damn it, Blake! He has to turn down  the charm, right now, or I might say some things I shouldn't.

I put a finger to my lips. "Shhh, it's a secret, but I actually love it that you're so protective and attentive."

On a whim, I kiss his cheek lightly.

"What's that for?"

"Bringing me to the show with your family. I didn't know how ‘no labels'  works exactly. If it meant just fun under the covers, or...."

Damn champagne. It loosens my tongue, and I really need no help in that  department. I speak too much as it is, and one is not supposed to say  these things out loud.                       
       
           


///
       

Blake wraps an arm around my waist, cupping my cheek with the other hand, and holds my gaze captive in his.

"I want to make one thing clear. There's going to be rough fucking and  sweet lovemaking and everything in between. But it will always be more  than fun under the covers. Okay?"

I shudder involuntarily as I nod. "Okay."

"When I said I want you in my life, not just my bed, I meant it. And here's a label for you-mine. You're mine."

"You're being sweet again. Just thought I'd point that out." I inform  him. Lucky he's holding me tight, because I'm swooning a little. A lot,  actually. "I know you had plans for us tonight, sorry. I don't think I'm  up to anything."

"Let's get you home, drunk girl."

"Tipsy. Just tipsy."





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Blake

Daniel and I used to stick around for the show after party, give press  interviews, but not anymore. It doesn't help Bennett Enterprises, but it  does attract people like Vivian.

"We're going too fast," Clara mumbles. She's adorable when she's had too  much to drink. By the time the cab pulls in front of our building,  she's steadier on her feet, but something in the way she moves gives her  away. Doesn't matter. She's safe with me. I'm here to look after her,  every step of the way.

"Would you like to come in?" she asks once we're in front of her door, batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated way.

"Are you trying to flirt?"

She pouts. "If you have to ask, I'm failing miserably."

"I was going to come in anyway, make you sure you get into your bed safely."

She nods eagerly, turning around and unlocking the door with surprising  ease. Once inside, I take her in my arms and kiss her like I've been  meaning to ever since we left. Christ, I can't get enough of this woman.  She got under my skin, and I want her to stay there. In fact, I'm  determined to get under her skin and stay there. The recognition  startles me because this is another first for me. I'm out of my depth  when it comes to this, but I'm determined to make this woman the  happiest she's ever been. I can't go wrong with that.

"What are you thinking?" she asks when I kiss down her neck. "I can feel you thinking."

"I'm thinking that I can't get enough of you. This was just an apartment  before, but now it's home. You made it home. You're real, open,  honest." I kiss back up the side of her neck, then her cheek.

"Especially when I'm drunk."

"I thought it was just tipsy."

We both laugh.

"Right, tipsy. I'm much better now, though." She steps back and twirls  around as if to make her point. Okay, I'll give her that, she's steady  on her feet. "This dress is so pretty. It's the kind of pretty that  makes me feel pretty."

Her words slice through me. "You are beautiful, Clara. Never doubt that."

"Not like you, though. Not in your league."

"What?"

"You're Blakealicious."

"That's not a word."

"It should be. Blake and delicious combined. You're so hot, you're down right lickable," she explains seriously, "and I'm-"

"Mine. You're mine."

"I really like that label," she whispers, her eyes wide and uncertain,  like she just confessed a deep secret. I meet her admission with one of  my own.

"Me too."

She's still not one hundred percent sober because she wouldn't talk so  freely. Despite being a chatterbox, Clara keeps her cards close when it  comes to her feelings. Except after drinking. Lucky me. And I know  exactly how I will convince my woman that she's fucking beautiful. I  will show her.

I kiss her hard, tasting her frantically. I need her-now, all night. But  I want to take my time and pace myself. Then again, I set that goal  every time we're together, and I end up being rough and demanding with  her. We're a tangle of limbs as we head to her bedroom, and once we're  inside, I pull her to a wall, turning her around.