With a Grain of Salt (Lindell Book 3)

Chapter 22

Claire

I knew inviting him back here was going to be a mistake, but my life has been nothing more than a series of mistakes, so why try and change that now?

I wait for him to climb out of the driver”s side and come around to open my door. I”d never insult the man by doing it myself.

He keeps close enough to me when we walk from the small parking lot to my front stoop that I swear I can already feel the warmth of his body. When I unlock my front door and step inside, he stays on the other side of the threshold.

”Really?” I ask, only capable of mustering a little agitation at this point in the night.

I”ll be damned if I”m going to beg this man to come inside.

”Claire,” he says when I inch closer.

He sounds torn, like he wishes things were different, and I don”t know how to analyze it. Does he want more? Does he think I want too much?

Does any of that really matter with the lines we”ve already crossed?

I lift up on my toes and press my mouth to his jawline, letting my hand rest on his stomach.

The man is in slacks and a white, button-down shirt just like I am, but he”s also wearing a suit jacket. With his collar unbuttoned enough that I can see his throat, I”ve had a hard time keeping my eyes off him. The businesslike look tortured me until Barrett”s insensitive ass came up and ruined my night.

”Come inside.”

I don”t have to ask him a second time. He manages to pick me up, close the front door, and twist the deadbolt into place all in the same breath.

I lick the salt on his neck as he carries me through the small duplex toward my bedroom.

His fingers tangle in my hair as he pulls my mouth away from him and the tiny bites of pain shoot desire and waves of arousal throughout my body.

”I want it fast and hard,” I pant, my eyes locked on his lips.

I watch in disappointment when he begins to shake his head.

”You got it how you wanted it last time. It”s my turn.”

I”d argue that I didn”t get it how I wanted it last time, but the fire building in his eyes and the thickness between his legs urge me to see what he has to offer instead.

My body feels like it”s on fire when he urges me to my feet and his fingers begin to work open the buttons on my shirt. When I lift my hands to open the button on my slacks, he swats my hands away, a clear indication that he wants to be the one to strip me naked.

I let him, despite it sparking an edge of inhibition with every inch of skin he exposes. I”ve seen this man without a shirt on, and he”s a picture of perfect health. I don”t have time to get a good night”s sleep much less add an exercise routine into my daily life. I run myself ragged both at the bar and at the vet clinic, but although that helps me stay on the thinner side, it does nothing to tighten and make me look more fit.

I keep my head up, my eyes on his face while he watches me.

He pushes my shirt over my shoulders and I don”t bother stopping it from hitting the floor at our feet. He looks entranced as he traces his finger over the top of my bra, the attention making gooseflesh chase after his touch.

I can”t suck in my stomach and hold it because I”m at the point of panting, so I don”t even bother.

”So fucking perfect,” he praises, in a tone so reverent that it makes me want to believe him.

His teeth dig into his lower lip, making me crave the bite of them on my skin, as he pulls one strap off my shoulder, his other hand going to my hip so he can pull me closer.

The man has barely touched me, yet he could easily reach between my legs and gather the flood of arousal that has accumulated there.

”Walker,” I plead when he seems quite content to simply look at me and trace my skin with the tip of a single finger.

”You drive me insane,” he whispers just as my nipple is exposed.

He leans forward, mouth trailing over my neck and shoulder rather than jumping right to sucking the peaked bud into his hot mouth.

It feels like more teasing, more playing, more torture, and I battle against wanting more of it and getting frustrated that he”s taking so long to get to other parts. I won”t even think good parts because God as my witness, they”re all good parts.

At some point, his expert fingers unclasp my bra and it joins my shirt on the floor.

He groans into my breast when I press my hands to his belly, letting one finger dip into the gap between the buttons, and draw circles on his heated skin.

He steps back, replacing my hands on the front of his shirt when they fall away at the distance he created.

”Take it off,” he says, his tone a demand and a plea all at the same time.

I work to get his shirt off, understanding his position, as each tan inch of him is revealed with every button coming undone. The anticipation is almost as good as I know the reward will be. We”re in no rush. There”s nothing either of us have to do tonight other than worship the other. My philosophy is if you”re going to make mistakes, you might as well make the best of them before the consequences come calling for their pound of flesh.

”This isn”t fair,” I whisper, watching my finger as it traces the ridges of his muscles.

”You seem to like them,” he says, his voice heavy with need. ”That seems pretty damn fair to me.”

I press my lips to his chest, letting my hands travel around his back which is just as muscular as the front side of him. I don”t imagine this guy ever skips a day at the gym.

Instead of asking why he doesn”t walk around shirtless all the time, because just thinking about it sparks a level of jealousy of other women seeing him that way and I can”t even let myself get lost in those ideas, I reach for the zipper on the front of his slacks.

He groans when I slip my hand behind the fabric of his boxer briefs, and I pull in a sharp breath at the warmth of his skin against my palm. The man has been blessed with more than just a great metabolism. He”s thick and heavy in my palm. The wetness on the tip of him makes the inner voice that whispered to me that he wasn”t satisfied the first time disappear.

”Tighter,” he urges when I wrap my hand around him. ”That sweet pussy of yours grips me harder than that.”

My breathing stutters with his words, and when I look up at his eyes, I see nothing but sincerity. He doesn”t have to say a word to convince me that we should be doing this. I”m letting my body lead the way. His words are coated in the truth, the tone of them hungry for more of what he’s already had.

”Let”s get in the shower,” he urges as I take a step back. ”I spilled no less than half a dozen drinks on me tonight.

He did seem a little more on edge tonight, even before Barrett came up and showed his ass, but it wasn”t my place to question his behavior.

I feel more than a little feral watching him pull his cock back into his pants so he can work the button open and shove them down his thighs.

I chuckle when he has to pull them back up some to get his boots off. Instead of leaving them in a pile, he gathers his clothes and tosses them onto the chair a few feet away.

I”m not self-conscious about how small my house is because the man isn”t here to evaluate the way I live, but I do chew on my lip a little when I”m fully naked and he follows me into the bathroom.

The duplex has two bedrooms and two bathrooms but the bathroom in the hallway is the only one with an actual bathtub and shower combo. In my bathroom, it”s only a small shower, and it was never a problem until now.

”I don”t think we”ll fit,” I tell him.

He steps up to my back, urging me to walk deeper into the small bathroom.

”Just means we”ll have to get really close.”

He waits, with his hands on my hips, while I turn on the water, explaining that it seems to take forever for it to warm. Right now, with him pressing his lips to my skin, it manages to take even longer.

Just as he promised about our closeness, the man doesn”t give me an inch of space as we shower.

I try not to focus on the intimacy of it. This isn”t something I can get used to and it definitely isn”t something I should even want in my life. This is an escape, a night of pleasure, and it has to end long before the sun comes up. That”s when I have to return to reality and the world where I”m responsible for a little girl who deserves more than I”ll ever be able to give her.

We don”t even bother drying off once our soapy hands have explored nearly every inch of the other”s body. His mouth is on mine when he picks me up and carries me, dripping water on the floor, to my bed.

I swear the man looks like he”s going to shove inside of me without putting on a condom and damn both of us to hell, I don”t know that I would stop him.

Being the only one with a functioning brain cell left, he pulls his mouth from my nipple and climbs off the bed. I watch him every step of the way, drinking in the sight of him as he makes his way back to his clothes.

Catching me watching him, he does some helicopter, frat-boy shit. He locks his eyes on me, stroking the length of himself with a punishing grip.

”Come here,” I beg, crawling to the end of the bed when he captures a drop of precum on his finger.

Thick thighs and strong calves carry him to me. The man is either a mind reader or we both want the same thing because he dips that wet finger inside my mouth. I feel the groan that erupts from his chest all the way to the center of me.

I look up, watching his jaw drop when I suck his finger deeper into my mouth.

”Goddamnit,” he grumbles when his finger pops free.

I reach for his cock when he begins to bend down so he can kiss me.

If I get lost in the man”s kiss again, I don”t know that I”ll be able to refocus on him rather than taking everything he has to offer for myself.

”If you—fuck, Claire.”

I smile around his cock, letting the potent salty taste of him coat my tongue before pulling him deeper.

”Swear to God,” he curses, but he doesn”t quite get to the part of issuing the actual threat.

I feel powerful in this moment. I don”t feel like the poor widow woman whose husband died and left her in such a dark place that even though I can”t give up, I know I”ll never be able to get out from under the darkness he left behind.

His fingers delve into my hair, but he does nothing to try and restrain or control my movements. He wants me to give this to him on my terms, not forcing his own needs. It doesn”t stop him from rolling his hips when I scrape my teeth lightly down the sensitive underside of his cock. He praises me with a jet of precum that makes me wish he was pulsing inside of me.

”Claire,” he says, his tone broken and begging.

I pull back, licking my lips as I look up at him.

Done with letting me dictate how tonight goes, he scoops his hands under my arms and centers me on the bed. A second later, his mouth is making its way down the length of my body. He tastes and samples my skin, lapping at my nipples before tracing his tongue around my bellybutton, something I never found sexy until he did it.

I spread my legs when he urges them apart, falling a little in love with the man and the size of his body in contradiction to mine. In this bed with him, I don”t have to be the strong one. I don”t have to be the protector and the decision maker. I let all of those duties go, hand them over to him, and trust that he”ll take care of me the way I need to be.

My back arches, head dipping into my pillow when his mouth covers my pussy. He doesn”t give me a chance to acclimate before swiping at my clit with this tongue.

He groans, the sound of his pleasure tangling with mine.

He grips my hips when I try to get away, holding me in place as he devours me. I swear by the time he makes me come, I”m no longer on the same planet we started on.

My heart races, my chest heaving with harsh breaths when I hear the crinkle of the condom wrapper.

The man is staring between my legs as he rolls the latex down his length, like he”s never seen such a beautiful part of a woman”s body. He looks hungry, voracious, and perfectly content all at the same time.

“Can’t do this,” he says, instead of lining up between my legs.

I pull my eyes from him, wondering how I can manage to get my blanket out from under us so I can cover up.

”Shit,” I mutter, trying to climb off the bed,

”Gonna need this instead,” he says, lying back and pulling me on top of him.

”What?” I ask, a tilt to my head because the man is confusing the hell out of me.

”I”m pretty sure I”ll hurt you if I”m the one deciding how hard and how fast. Get up there, baby. I won”t leave you hanging.”

Understanding sinks in eventually. He wasn”t saying he couldn”t have sex with me, just that he couldn”t do it the way he originally thought he was going to.

He grips my hips, helping me when I swing one leg over his body. The width of his body leaves me so open and exposed, but the need swelling inside my body speaks to the part of me that”s in charge right now.

”Wow,” I tell him when he releases one side of my body so he can stand his cock up for me to sink down on.

The vantage point from here makes the thing look like it”s going to be too much, but I know that my body can handle him, as much as I know I”ll still feel him Monday when I arrive at the vet”s office.

His grip on me tightens when I sink down the first few inches, pausing to let my body acclimate to him.

My arousal coats him as he releases the base of his cock and swipes his thumb over my sensitive clit.

”This isn”t going to last long,” I say.

”Sorry,” he mutters as if he’s also close to the edge already. ”Your blowjob nearly killed me.”

My core clenches around him with the praise, making his eyes widen.

I drop down, letting all of my weight carry me until my ass is resting against his thighs. His grip on me is tight enough that I”ll no doubt have fingerprint-sized bruises on my skin tomorrow, but it doesn”t hurt. If anything, it”s just one more thing that keeps my desire high. This man didn”t leave his office unsatisfied last weekend. He was hard because he wanted more, and I did that. My body made him that way.

I pull up and sink back down, my thighs already quivering and not from the limited effort.

I watch as he licks his thumb before pressing it back to my clit. That combined with the way he”s holding me and looking me in the eyes instead of where we”re joined is what takes me over the edge.

After the pulsing of my body stops, he sits up, gripping me around the waist before rolling over and shoving all the way inside of me.

He did this in a similar way in his office, but, given a choice, I”d have him in a bed every single time.

His mouth circles my nipple, the suction of it something I feel deep inside me.

He grunts a second before I feel the first kick of his orgasm, and I cling to him until he stills completely.

When he pulls out of me this time, and I glance down at the thickness between his legs, I know not to feel as if I wasn”t enough.

This man is so dangerous to me because, as he flops to the bed alongside me and pulls me to his chest as he continues to breathe like he just ran a marathon, I forget that I”m supposed to be getting up and asking him to leave.