Chapter 11 Answer It
Claire
Making out with random men in bars isn’t like me, but it’s Everett, and tonight I don’t really feel like making all the right decisions when I could make the wrong ones.
The frosty air stings my cheeks and causes a shiver to run through me as we stumble out of Fritz’s. The streetlights illuminate the falling snow. The traffic is unusually light for this time of night, but with the weather, I can’t imagine many people wanting to be out and about.
“Fuck, it’s cold,” I say, letting go of his hand. I pull my hat over my ears and fold my arms across my chest, trying to hold in some of my body heat.
“Here,” he says, wrapping his jacket around my shoulders. The heavy fabric of his coat engulfs me, immediately helping me to feel a little warmer.
“You don’t want it?” I ask. “It’s freezing out here.”
He loosely wraps his scarf around his neck and tucks his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “I’ll be okay.”
“So, where are we going?” I ask, desperate to get somewhere quickly so I can taste his kiss again and feel his hands on my body.
“My place is in the West Village, so it’s a bit of a walk, but we could take a cab.”
“I’m just six blocks this way.” I gesture down the street.
He nods, and we begin to walk toward my apartment. The snow falls heavily, and he pulls me close. The night air is filled with the noises of the city. Glancing up, I find him looking at me, and tension ripples between us.
Grabbing my hand, he spins me out and then into his chest. His large hands find my face, and his mouth collides with mine. The kiss is urgent and needy, and I melt into him on the side of this snowy street as if no one can see us. A loud bang in the distance causes me to step back.
“Was that thunder?” I ask, peering up at the night sky and attempting to catch my breath.
“It sounded like it. Come on.” Taking my hand, he begins to run down the sidewalk, dragging me behind him.
“Since when are you this spontaneous,” I yell through a burst of laughter.
He pauses again, pulling me into him. His hands move through my hair and down my back as he kisses me once more.
“I told you people can change.” An icy breeze blows through us, and we both take off again. Hand in hand, he pulls me along through the snow.
The Everett I used to know would’ve never run down the streets of New York in the middle of a snow storm with me. He was always so serious, so focused on his image. On his career.
“You’re insane,” I yell, continuing to weave down the street, barely missing a couple walking in the opposite direction.
“It’s cold as shit,” he hollers back. “But, I have an idea of how we can get warm.”
“Ev, my shoes. They aren’t made to run in the snow.”
Without hesitation, he swings around and picks me up, cradling me in a bridal hold.
“Put me down!” I yell. “We’re almost there.”
“Good,” he says, continuing to hold me in his arms as he moves across the blanket of white covering the path to the brownstone I call home.
“I can walk,” I argue. “Your shoulder is hurt. You shouldn’t be carrying me.”
He stops moving and looks down. “Your shoes were slowing us down, and I’m desperate to make you feel good.”
I swallow hard, and need courses through me again.
“So, are you going to continue to be a brat and fight me? Or are you good with me holding you?”
“If you insist,” I say, shaking my head.
“Oh, I insist.” He takes off, moving quickly down the sidewalk again. The smell of his cologne engulfing my senses as I nuzzle into his chest.
“Wait, you missed it,” I yell as he bypasses my place and continues to head down the street. “It’s the one with the blue door.”
Stopping, he moves backward until I tell him to stop, and then he slowly lowers me to the ground, tracing the curve of my body with his hands.
“This is me,” I say, nodding to the door at the top of the stairs.
“Can I come—” he begins, but he’s interrupted by another loud crash in the distance, causing me to jump.
“Was that thunder again?” I ask, looking up at the night sky.
“I don’t know. Thundersnow is pretty rare, but it’s really coming down, so it could’ve been.”
“Maybe we should—” I begin, but another boom echoes across the sky, and the street goes pitch black, leaving us in the dark.
“What the fuck?” I shout, stepping closer and wrapping my arms around his waist. There’s not a working street or traffic light as far as we can see.
A passing cab’s headlights illuminate everything for a split second as it passes, but then we are returned to dark as it disappears down the road.
We’ve had power outages before, but this is unbelievable.
It’s like someone flipped a switch and turned every light in the city off.
“Looks like the power’s out,” he says.
“Gathered that,” I deadpan, looking around. “But why?”
“The snow storm? We better get inside.” Pulling out his phone, he turns on the flashlight. We begin to carefully climb the stairs leading to the door of my place when another loud roll of thunder echoes through the darkness, making us both pause on the top step.
“Oh, my god,” I say, taking in the sight before me. Swirls of pink dance across the sky above us, casting a soft, rose-colored glow on everything the light touches. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s ethereal and magical, and I can’t look away.
“The northern lights?” Everett questions.
Cars passing by stop, and people join us on the street to take in the dancing lights.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” I say, watching as the lights flow from a deep magenta to a soft blush, illuminating everything they touch.
“No?” he questions, his voice is a little raspy. “I have.”
I turn to face him, fully expecting his eyes to be locked on the mesmerizing show in the sky, but instead, he’s looking at me.
Just as I’m about to give him shit about the cheesy line, he takes my hands, and the world falls away as he stares deep into my eyes.
His mouth finds mine again. This time, it’s not desperate and needy, but instead it’s soft and sweet.
My knees buckle under the feel of his lips on mine, and he catches me, wrapping one of his arms around my lower back.
His other hand finds the back of my head and pulls gently at the hair falling beneath my hat, tilting my head back and letting him take our kiss deeper.
My hands explore his body, and the energy between us shifts again to something more heady. I want this man.
Fuck, I need this man.
Pulling away, I fumble for my key to unlock the door.
“Wait,” he says. The lights move, casting a pink glow across his face and revealing a smirk. “You don’t want to watch the lights a little bit longer.”
“No,” I say. “I want you.”
He chuckles. Leaning forward, his mouth finds my ear. “Needy, are we?”
“Yes,” I breathe out, turning the key and pushing the door open. We move inside quickly, and he follows me up the stairs to my second floor apartment. He pushes my back against the door, and his hands trail up my thigh, under my dress.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” he says, his fingers finding my center over my thin tights.
I let out a laugh. Flipping around, I push the key into the door and then turn the knob to reveal my dark apartment.
The pink lights cast a romantic glow throughout the space, and I swallow hard when I hear the door shut behind me.
His hands find my hips and he spins me around, pushing me up against the wall in between a small entry table and the window.
Taking a step back, his eyes rake over me.
I drop my purse to the floor and then slowly remove the hat from my head and his coat from my shoulders, revealing the short black dress that hugs every curve of my body perfectly.
Grabbing the scarf that hangs around his neck, I pull him towards me.
Our bodies collide, and his leg moves between my own, shifting upward and creating toe-curling pressure against my sensitive bud.
I gasp at the feel of it as I grind against him, and his lips find mine again.
His rough beard tickles against my face, and my hands move up his back.
Pausing our kiss for a moment, he chucks his scarf and hat across the room and then pulls his hoodie and shirt up and over his head, revealing his sculpted chest and abs. My hands trace the cut lines, and my fingers toy with the hem of his sweatpants.
Goosebumps erupt across my skin, and warmth pools low in my belly as he leans forward and his lips find the pulse point on my neck.
He continues to trail his tongue up my throat, and I tilt my head, granting him more access to the sensitive skin there.
At my feet, my phone begins to vibrate. I do my best not to let the ringing distract me from this moment, but Everett slows/ our kiss.
“Ignore it,” I say, pulling him back into me and pushing my hips forward.
He chuckles against me. “Oh, I plan to,” he says.
His mouth finds mine again, and I part my lips, letting him in. His hands work over my body, and I shift my hips forward, grinding against his thigh. His back muscles flex as I move my hands over them, pulling him closer, chasing my release.
My phone begins to ring again, but neither of us stops. When he picks me up, my legs wrap around his waist, and he pushes me against the wall. His hard length presses into me, and fuck, I want him inside me. My mouth. My pussy. At this point, I don’t care. I just want him.
My phone begins to ring for a third time, and he breaks our kiss.
“Maybe you should answer it,” he says, resting his forehead against mine.
“No,” I say. “Whoever it is can wait until we’re done.”
“The power is out though. It could be someone trying to make sure you’re okay.”
He sets me down, and I let out a grumble just as the ringing stops.
Bending down, I grab my bag and dig out my phone. The vibrations begin for a fourth and very obnoxious time. Looking at the screen, I expect to see my sister’s name or maybe my mom’s, but instead I’m met with the words Raph Ulrich.
“He can’t be serious,” I say, silencing the ringer and forwarding him to voicemail.
“Is it Ulrich?”
“Yeah, so it’s not important. Where were we?” My eyes find his, and my tongue wets my lips, eager to finish what we’ve started.
It begins to ring for a fifth time, causing me to shift my gaze back to my phone. Raph’s name scrolls across the screen again. Blowing out a frustrated breath, I move my finger to ignore the call, but Everett stops me.
“Don’t,” he commands, his voice raspy. “Answer it. I have an idea.”
Studying him for a second, I watch as he drops to his knees before me.
“Answer it, Sugar. Let me make you feel good while you tell him to fuck off.” A sly smile erupts across his face. My heart begins to pound against my chest as I swipe my thumb across the screen, and he lifts one of my legs over his bare shoulder.
“Hello,” I say, my voice wavering slightly.
“What the fuck, Claire.” Raph’s voice comes through the phone at the same time I watch Everett bunch up my dress and rip open my tights at the center, exposing my bare pussy underneath the thin black fabric. His eyes darken as he takes me in, and his tongue grazes his lower lip.
“Claire,” Raph barks.
He’s mad, and I do my best to focus on what he’s saying, but I can’t. I’m too distracted by the gorgeous man kneeling before me, staring at me like I’m his last fucking meal.
“Uh, yeah, I’m here. Sorry,” I say.
Everett reaches up, taking the phone from my hand. Muting the call, he says, “Don’t apologize. You don’t deserve to be treated like this. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
He’s right. I don’t have anything to be sorry for. Not for anything I did or anything I’m about to do. I lose focus of Raph’s voice coming through the phone entirely. Everett turns his head and lays a kiss against my inner thighs, and then his gaze returns back to mine.
“Now, I’m going to unmute the phone and put it on speaker. I want you to use me, let me make you feel good, and when you’re ready, I want you to tell him off. Show him what he fucked up and lost.”
His voice is low and demanding, and I do my best to not internally combust, but with just his words, he’s winding my core tighter and pushing me closer to the edge. Swallowing hard, I nod my head, silently agreeing.
“You think you can do that, Sugar?”
I let out a “Yes” that sounds more like a moan, and a wicked grin spreads across Everett’s face.
Raph continues to drone on about something, not even noticing I’ve gone silent, and Everett doesn’t break eye contact as he runs his large hands over my delicate frame.
It’s otherworldly the effect he has on me, and despite the nagging feeling that this might be a very bad idea, it feels too good to tell him to stop.