Just when I think he’ll head back to the bathroom, he peers over his shoulder.
At me.
My cheeks flush.
Heat courses through my body like an electric current, setting up camp in my very core.
A small gasp escapes me when he licks his lips, his nostrils flaring, as he watches me like we’re playing chess.
My move.
Without thinking, I step inside and close the door behind me. Leaning against it, I swallow, trying to wet my dry throat.
Growing wet altogether.
He stands before me, hungry yet questioning. A million thoughts seem to run across his expression as he furrows his brows.
On some level, in the recesses of my mind, I know this is still my friend.
But instead of thinking about the consequences, I can only think of one thing.
Dax.
Thirteen
Dax
Our gazes lock.
The longer we watch each other, the more the air around us shifts from platonic to hot.
Earlier tonight, Clara showed up in a red shirt that made me salivate like a caveman. It was low-cut, emphasizing her cleavage, making me want to punch a wall since I couldn’t have her.
To make matters worse, she told Cathy we’re just friends like she’s been doing all our lives. Anytime anyone would ask, I always kept quiet while Clara reassured them that there’s nothing sexual between us.
But now…
Now, she watches me with fire in her lust-filled eyes.
She could’ve left. Walked away.
Instead, she stepped inside, closing the door behind her like there’s no escape. Like she doesn’t want to escape at all.
Clara’s gaze travels down my body and lands between my legs. These shorts do nothing to hide exactly what I’m thinking.
I’m harder than a fucking pipe, and she gazes at me curiously.
None of it screams friends.
It screams desire.
Lust.
Everything I’ve waited to have from her since I was old enough to understand sex.
My mind is a blur.
With her hungry gaze on me, I can’t think straight. I can’t think about all the reasons this is wrong.
All I can think is that I want her.
I have to have her.
I cross the room, the urge to wrap her in my arms too much to stop me. When she meets me halfway, I crush my lips to hers and unleash years of pent-up attraction.
There’s no tenderness.
Nothing gentle.
Nothing hesitant.
This kiss is full of aggressive passion and need.
She moans into my mouth, her body sagging into mine, and I wrap one arm around her waist while the other threads through her hair. I hold her against me, and my tongue parts her wet lips to explore her.
I tremble with the need to explore all of her.
To make up for years of yearning.
To right the distance between us all this time.
It always felt wrong. And not just her being on the other side of the country. It felt wrong even when we were in the same time zone. For her to sit next to me like she did earlier tonight but be so far away.
Now, she’s in my arms, whimpering and gripping my shoulders, her fingernails digging into me with an intense sting that I welcome.
It jolts me alive.
Her hands move to my chest like two pads of a defibrillator, and she grips my pecs through my shirt, shocking me into action.
I walk backward until the backs of my knees hit the edge of her bed, and she comes willingly, climbing on top of me. Her movements become jerky and needy the longer we kiss.
Our teeth clash.
She rakes her hands over me.
She wants me as badly as I want her.
“Dax,” she breathes against my lips, making my cock so hard I could burst right now without even feeling her skin to skin. My name drips from her teasing mouth like I want my come to drip down the inside of her thighs.
I kiss her harder, and all I can think is that everything is perfect and natural with her—this is what I’ve always wanted.
It’s happening.
Clara is finally straddling me, kissing me.
Panting.
Grinding her hips against my length.
“Clothes off,” I whisper, fingering the edge of her shirt, the one that teased me all night. I toy with the waistband of her jeans, and she sharply inhales.
“Everything off,” I growl, my movements more urgent and needy, as my body takes over.
I lose myself in all that is Clara Morgan.
Warm, soft skin, still damp from the rain.
Perfect curves to sink my fingers into.
Floral-scented everything—hair, breasts, her clothes that she tosses to the side.
I lean up with her and remove my own shirt, then bury my face between her breasts, cupping each one in both hands. I deeply inhale her sweet smell like I’m trying to inhale her.
I bite softly on her nipple over her bra, earning me a louder moan, another hum, and I decide right then that it’s my favorite sound.
I pull the straps of her bra down, ready to keep that sound on repeat for the rest of the night. For as long as she’ll let me.
My breath is caught in my throat once her breasts are free, and two hard nipples stare back at me.
Clara’s nipples.
“I need more,” her voice strains as she writhes on top of me, moving her hips over my lap.
I pull her to the side to remove my shorts, then set her back on top of me, rubbing my length along her inner thigh, up to her heat, along the seam of her.
Only her thin panties separate us now.
“I need you,” she whispers, then kisses me—hard.
With another growl, I roll us over so I’m on top, my body trembling with want. Never have I been this hard and frantic for a woman.
Only Clara.
I yank her panties off, then reach into her nightstand.
“I don’t have any condoms.” Her small voice makes me freeze.
My throbbing length grazes her inner thighs, so close to where I need to sink into.
I can feel her wetness.
Her heat.
So fucking close.
“Wasn’t exactly expecting this when you came over.”
I blink as she audibly gulps, a bright blush growing down her neck. Of course, we
