Fall shook up, p.18
Fall Shook Up, page 18
He said, “I wasn’t—I didn’t know you were in here.”
“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you,” I said at the same time.
I nodded, my chin dipping into the warm water, eyes locked on his. A creeping sense of understanding filled me. Whatever was happening here was too far past the point of no return. We wouldn’t be able to brush this off or ignore it like when we kissed. Maybe I just wouldn’t let us.
“I’ll just go.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Or . . .” I suggested. “You can stay?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Levi
Claire was a fantasy come to life. Hot and pink from the water, no bubbles, all soft flesh and blurred heat. Her leg had been slung out of the tub, her nipples hard and poking out of the water when she threw her head back in silent pleasure. Eyes clenched tight as her hand worked under the water; I could only imagine what she was doing.
I came back to grab a quick shower after Ripley decided to roll in a puddle and then demanded to be carried back to the truck. There was no way I could have possibly expected to find the object of all my dirty dreams, soaked and waiting for me in my bathtub.
When I realized she was in there, I had already walked in.
When I realized what she was doing, I froze.
When I heard her gasp my name, I almost came.
I had called her name.
I had tried. I didn’t mean to watch for even the seconds that I had. But she had been so beautiful, and my body was frozen with surprise and indecision.
My balls were so high and tight, my cock so hard; one brush, and I’d explode.
Now she offered me to stay. Claire studied me with heavy-lidded eyes, waiting for an answer.
What was I supposed to do here? My entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out. How could I feel like I was going to burst into flame and still be frozen in place?
I could stay. I could stay. The possibility of that short-circuited my brain.
“Well,” she said after a long silence. “You do what you got to do,” she said.
I swallowed with difficulty. Any second, my feet would carry me out of here.
“But I was sort of in the middle of something.” Her long, silky leg lifted out of the water. At the same time, she rested her head back with a sigh, and one hand trailed down her thigh as the other luxuriously crossed her collar, causing water to collect and pool in the little dip I wanted so badly to lick.
Fuck. Fuck.
Leave! I screamed in my mind.
“I don’t mind you watching,” she said, giving me one long look as her hand began to work under the water. Had she really just said that? I groaned and somehow got even harder. Even the cotton of the towel against my cock was close to making me come.
What I wouldn’t give to see what she was doing and memorize it so I could do it for her every day.
Her cheeks were flushed with color, but she never broke the bold gaze moving over my body. I felt my cock twitch again, as though if it tried hard enough, it could pull the towel away. My hips jutted out as I rocked forward on my toes, none of which I consciously did. My body was drawn to her.
Her back arched on a sharp gasp, pressing her breasts up and out of the water. The hard nipples broke the surface tension first, followed by the full cups, water streaking around and down them. I wanted to drop to my knees and suck them into my mouth, really make her scream.
“Jesus,” I gasped.
Her gaze challenged, taunted. She was really doing this. She was moaning more frequently, louder, soft little inhales growing closer together, as her arm worked a steady motion.
She stared so hard at my towel; it was like she was trying to catch it on fire.
It was a challenge, and suddenly, I found myself feeling competitive.
Tentatively, questioningly, I moved my hand under the towel. Her eyebrows lifted, mouth parting as she watched me. Was I really doing this? Were we really doing this? It felt decided already. There was no leaving this room now. Not when we were locked in this dirty dare.
I kept my gaze riveted to hers as I widened my stance, decision made. I found my cock. I kept the towel in place with the other, allowing the tease to be enough. Like she was doing for me. To me.
I sucked in a sharp breath as I wrapped my hand around it and pumped it, once long and slow. I felt harder than I’d ever been; the skin burned. My precum dripped over onto my thumb and onto the towel.
Her mouth fell open, her gaze focusing on the motion of my hand.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Her hand teased as the tension grew and grew. The elegant slope of her neck into her shoulders was captivating as the water splashed around them, creating rivulets at her jerking movements. Her eyes didn’t close this time, they were open and locked on me. They also seemed to struggle to remain in one place. She looked at my face and hands and . . .
“I’ve imagined this. You,” she said. “And so much more.”
I ground my jaw. She had to stop talking or this would be over too fast.
“You’re so hot,” she said like it was painful. “I wish—”
“No. Don’t,” I said instantly.
Whatever she was about to say, I couldn’t hear. I was already using all my strength to not come. I had to wait for her to come first, even if it killed me.
She whined, her legs rubbing together, the flush on her chest spreading up her neck. God, what it would be like to fuck her. To make her moan like that while those thighs wrapped tight around me, while her perfect tightness clenched me deeper. I bit hard into my lip, squeezed hard around the base of my cock, to keep from coming. It was dirty and the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen, and I wasn’t even touching her. But it was her. It was her when I did this and thought of her. It was her that was getting me off now.
“Levi.” Her legs shifted, she called out, almost in pain.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” I told her honestly, worried that the rawness in my voice might give too much away. “Please show me how you come. Claire, please,” I begged.
“Oh, God.” Her head fell back, eyes squeezed tight as she called out loudly. “I’m—”
She stopped when her whole body froze at its peak. The tendons of her neck were strained, nipples rock hard, water sloshing all over as her body went rigid, breath frozen after being sucked in. Under the water, her muscles would be clenching repeatedly and I wished I could feel it. I imagined stepping closer, releasing on those perfect breasts. The mark of me on soft skin and hard nipples.
Fire burned up my spine, and I came, shooting rope after rope of cum into the towel.
I grunted the last aftershock, even more thankful for the decision to keep the towel in place. A light wind would knock me over as I gathered my breath and waited to find some stability. Claire also panting, collected herself in the now silent—except for our breathing—room.
Eventually, she shifted and made a sound of distress as she brought her leg back into the tub.
“Are you okay?” I asked, panting, the heat of the moment giving way to awkwardness.
“Yeah. Rough angle. I just don’t think I did anything to help the knot I came here to get rid of.” She sat up in the tub, breasts on full display, no shame, as her head stretched side to side. Her arm was wrapped to rub at a spot between her shoulder blades, making them move in a hypnotizing manner. “Are you okay?” she asked gently. “I hope that wasn’t too much.”
Too much? Not nearly enough. And I was so far from okay. My whole body hummed with release and some parts shame, but mostly, I just wanted her even more. I wanted so much more. I gripped the dirtied towel tighter, anxious to get out of it, anxious to shower and have a few minutes to analyze all that I felt.
“Ahem, no. That was good,” I said before my silence could go on too long.
Her gaze quickly flicked over me. She smiled. “Okay, good.”
She leaned forward and pulled the plug from the drain. With no warning, she stood and got out of the tub, her entire front revealed. Water traveled down her shoulders and collar, making rivulets under her nipples and around her belly button. Her smooth belly, hips, and the swollen lips of her vulva were perfectly on display. I almost fell to my knees then to worship every inch with my tongue.
I turned away before my hard-on came back. Not that it had gone away completely.
She stepped closer, and her finger picked at something on my chest. “You’re so dirty,” she said.
“What?” I gasped out.
“The mud?” A slow smile made her dimples pop. “I’ll let you get to your shower. Thanks for that. It was fun.”
She reached across me, arm brushing my chest and bicep, stealing my breath, to grab an extra towel on the sink.
I clenched my jaw so hard, tension popped it. I would not look at that perfectly round ass tempting me. If I grabbed her hips and slid a finger into her, she’d be wet and swollen from her orgasm.
“Bye, Levi,” she said, shooting me one last look. “I’m around if you ever want to do that again.”
My nostrils flared as she sauntered out of the restroom.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Levi
Life was a ticking clock. Every second since she came apart in the tub was another moment closer to our inevitable collision. As transparent as always, Claire made her desire clear. Claire as ever.
“She’d like that pun,” I said out loud as I sanded an edge.
It had been three long and hard days, with emphasis on the hard, since I watched her get herself off. The most wonderful sight in the world. Not true; the most wonderful sight would be watching me sliding in and out of her tight body as my fingers got her off. That would be the only thing that could top it. Once I’d admitted the fantasies—and to be fair and very mature about it, she started it—it was like they couldn’t be contained. In the past seventy hours, I had imagined every possible position we could put our mouths and bodies in with the tenacity and creativity of a teenage boy.
And every second of every day stretched longer and longer. Every morning, I woke up rock hard and spilled into my hand with hollow satisfaction. Every night, I worked until I passed out. I purposely pushed myself physically so no thoughts were possible. So I wouldn’t march down to the Little Cabin to ask for what she offered so easily.
I had to make a decision soon. I picked up my phone. Or maybe I didn’t. I put it back down.
Pace. If ever there was a time I needed the opinion of the man who was arguably far better with women, it was now.
But then. There was a part of me that cherished what had happened in the bathroom. Watching Claire had been gifted to me, her brazen forwardness always a gift but a private one. Plus, I could almost hear his warning; having had his heart broken before, Pace wouldn’t understand how I could fall for Claire so simply, an instinctual decision that had been made without me. It was a decision that couldn’t be changed. The feelings I had for her weren’t rational or easily explained, and Pace hadn’t understood. My friend cared that I would be hurt when she left. Now, it was a matter of how much hurt could be avoided. How would I get out of this alive?
I preferred to be stuck in this state of immobilization. I was better here. No quick movements to scare her away.
We wanted each other; that was not the problem. The problem was, I wanted more than that.
There was a knock on the workshop wall, even though the metal door was open.
As always, my entire body became more aware the moment I saw her.
“Hey,” she said when she must have observed the tension gather in me. Big strong man, so afraid of the little brunette with a larger-than-life smile. “I come in peace,” she added and just like that, like always, I was disarmed by her.
I smiled at my planer as I set it on the bench and pushed up my safety goggles. “Come on in.”
I wouldn’t have to make the decision after all. The moment I saw her, it all became obvious. She was here. And for once, all of me was on the same page.
I was tired of fighting my desire to be near her. She moved to one of the stools near the tall bench, tugging her sweater down over her hands and wrapping herself up. She wore tight leggings and a sweater despite the cold. I went to the main door and tugged it down to keep out most of the chilly air. It always got hot when I was working, but the temperature at this time of night dipped low.
My feet brought me to stand in front of her. Her focus was blurred, eyes wide in a thousand-yard stare.
“Claire?” I asked.
She straightened and blinked, turning her head in my direction, but her eyes still locked on some distant point. I frowned, noticing that she was more disheveled than I’d seen her. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair piled on her head, and a pale pallor to her cheeks. She had warned me that she was different when she was in research mode, but it was startling to see firsthand. An air of anxiety hummed in the air around her, in the jumping of her leg and the short nails bitten to the quick. Her gaze kept moving around the room, avoiding me.
“Claire,” I said more firmly and rested my hands on her shoulders.
She finally met my eyes. They cleared their haze, and she took me in for the first time. I was aware that I only wore my loose work khakis and a white tee, clinging to my sweating body. They moved over me and she swallowed.
“How are you?” she asked, voice high and tight.
Whatever was on her mind, she was trying hard to delay the inevitable. That made me nervous. There was no conversation Claire wasn’t perfectly willing to barrel straight through. I stepped back, crossing my arms to lean against the workbench opposite her.
Maybe she hadn’t come here to take things to the next level; maybe she was here to stop us from going down the physical path that seemed inevitable only seconds ago.
I wished I hadn’t set down my tool so I could keep my hands busy and avoid making eye contact.
“I’m fine. I haven’t seen you around much,” I said and cursed myself for the stiff and awkward small talk. This was why we both agreed it was a waste of time.
“I’ve been working,” she said, eyes going foggy again as she checked out to wherever she went.
I nodded. “I wondered where you disappeared to.” Then I wondered if that gave too much away. So I quickly added, “New story?”
She straightened, a hint of her usual clarity returning to her distracted and rapidly moving eyes.
“Yeah. That’s why I’m here.” She tugged her bottom lip in to chew on it. “I actually found out something, and it’s a lot to take in.”
“Ah.” I gripped the bench behind me.
Claire’s stomach made a loud rumble, and she quickly wrapped her hands around her middle.
“Are you hungry?” Had we even shared a meal since the fall festival? That didn’t seem right. That’s what she was missing. Wining and dining. That’s what she deserved. “Want some food?”
Her face went slack, like the mention of food made her nauseated. “No. I’m just—ignore that. It’s nerves.”
The visits in town, the nervous fidgeting, the researching; it all clicked into place. All at once, I knew why she was here. I knew what she discovered.
I ground my molars as grim determination sharpened her features, and she forced herself to meet my gaze.
My palms grew sweaty, and the edges of my vision blurred.
“I found out something.” I shook my head as she started talking. “I thought that there was something familiar about Lily’s, uh, your mom’s work. I couldn’t shake it.”
I turned my back. I gripped the edge of the workbench. I felt the earth tilting. Come on, get it together.
Distantly, Claire’s words filtered in, though I tried to block them out. “There’s this guy who’s famous in my world, well, my world adjacent. I know he’s a travel photographer who built a name for himself. Richard Stanley.”
The ringing in my ears began then. The muscles of my shoulders were high and tight. “Claire,” I growled.
If she heard me, it didn’t stop the obviously rehearsed words. “He-he first popped up around the same time that your mother was starting to make a name for herself in the art world. It’s become obvious in my research, albeit still in its initial stages, that this man”—here, her words sharpened with disgust—“plagiarized not only your mother’s work stylistically, but in some cases actually stole some of her shots. Based on some negatives that I have uncovered. Levi, I’m so sorry.”
My eyes were squeezed shut. I winced away when her hand came to rest on my shoulder. “Did you hear me?” she asked lightly.
“I heard you.” My voice cracked.
“I know this is probably awful to hear about your mother. The injustice of it all makes me sick. This-this sleazebag has gone on to have a career riding the coattails of works that are not his own. Yet he continues to use that earlier success to this day, no doubt financially as well, for these past thirty years.”
I took steadying breaths in and out. “Leave it,” I growled out the words. My throat was raw with the restraint I used.
“But the silver lining in all this is that I have started compiling a pretty credible case against him. I think, with a few more weeks, maybe more, of work, I can really have something here. I already pitched the idea to my editor.”
“You what?” I spun, barely reining in my anger as the words burst out of me.
She blanched, reeling back. “No names or details, of course.” She held her hands up in a soothing gesture. “I wanted to talk to you first.”
“You need to leave it, Claire,” I said slowly and flatly.
Her eyebrows contorted in hurt confusion. “Didn’t you hear me? I have proof. I could write the story. Your mother deserves justice.”
“Jesus, Claire, I said leave it!” This time, I did shout.
Her shoulders rose and fell in anger. “Leave it? Are you kidding me?”
“I should have known the second I showed you that room that it wouldn’t be enough to share this part of myself with you. You couldn’t just accept the piece of myself that I offered. You had to keep going and going.”
