Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Bryce
I don’t know what’s going to happen here.
And that is fucking exciting in and of itself. It’s been so long since I’ve gone back to a girl’s place and not just tumbled straight into bed with her. This feels like unmapped territory, somewhere I need to find my way through. And I’ve always been a bit of an adventurer.
Claire leads me inside her house, switching on the LED lights under her kitchen cupboards, the glow soft enough that it doesn’t interfere with the magnificent sunset sky framed in the huge windows.
“Fuck me.” Even though I’ve been here before, I pause to take it in.
What I would give to live somewhere like this, someplace where the view changes with the light.
The ocean sighs and murmurs below, constantly moving, lights coming on along the curving headlands.
Claire bustles around in the kitchen, boiling the kettle, pouring water into the French press.
I guess when she said coffee, she meant coffee.
It’s fine, though. I lean against the long granite island, watching her graceful movements, almost like a dance. I could watch her forever. Like the sea, I realise, she is ever changing.
Where that comes from, I don’t know. Romantic stuff isn’t usually my style.
But it’s how I feel. And with that comes the realisation that, despite the fact I’ve known her for only a week, I’m catching feelings for this girl.
Deep, powerful ones. Once again that sense of venturing into unmarked territory rises in me.
I’m cautious, I realise. Part of me is holding back, and I’m not sure why.
There’s a lot of deep stuff here, like Matt was saying.
All the shit I carry. My dad’s death when I was a kid.
Millie’s addiction. My own lack of roots and stability.
Do I really want to lay all of this on Claire?
Maybe it’s better if it stays as just coffee tonight, despite what my body is telling me to do.
But when she turns to me, those ocean eyes of hers reflecting the sky, all my doubt drains away.
“Do you want me to message him?” The words come out almost unbidden, along with a rushing need to comfort her, to hold her close against the world.
She pauses. “Simon?” She wrinkles her nose and goes back to what she’s doing. “No. Don’t waste your energy.”
“It’s not a waste.” I push myself off the counter and go towards her. “Not if it gets him to back off.”
She pours the coffee into mugs, spooning honey into mine. She licks some off her finger. “I don’t want to think about him.”
“No?” I’m close enough to touch her now, her scent of flowers and butterscotch swirling in my nostrils, blended with the warmth of coffee. “What do you want to think about?”
Her finger is still in her mouth. I watch her pull it out. Fuck. I’m getting hard already.
“You.”
It’s like a match to my flame. I pull her to me, my mouth descending on hers. She tastes like honey, and as her arms twine around my neck, her body pressing against me, I’m this close to losing control, to picking her up and throwing her on the sofa to have my way with her.
But I pull back, smoothing the hair from her face, gazing into her ocean-dark eyes. Her mouth is swollen, bee-stung by my kisses. She puts her hand on my chest and takes a breath, like she’s about to say something. Then she stops. I can see the struggle in her face.
“What is it?” I put my hand over hers, over my heart.
“I’m a virgin,” she mutters, looking down.
What the fuck?
Claire
If I didn’t ruin things before, I surely have now.
After my announcement I wait for Bryce to pull away, laughing. To get in his car and drive away, out of my life, back to his existence where the women are all gorgeous and experienced. Why on earth would he want to bother getting to know me now?
But he doesn’t do either of those things. Instead, his green gaze softens. “You are? Truly?” Then he does laugh, but it’s just a breathy chuckle. “Simon really is a dickhead, isn’t he?”
“I know it’s stupid, but I’m glad I didn’t… I’m glad we … er…”
Bryce kisses me, a sweet meeting of our mouths, then rubs his nose against mine. “Hey,” he says, his hands sliding down my sides. “This is your body. Yours to give, or not. There’s nothing stupid about that.” He kisses me again, and this time it deepens, his tongue tangling with mine.
When he pulls back this time, his green eyes are dark, hooded with desire. “How much of a virgin?” One corner of his mouth quirks up. “Just … interested.”
“Er … well.” My heart is pounding, my voice a whisper. “I mean, I’ve done a lot of stuff. Just not … that.”
“Oh really?” His mouth moves along my jaw, his nose brushing my ear. Then his kisses descend lower. “A lot of stuff?” He pauses in his kisses to grin at me.
“Oh god.” I try to pull away, covering my face with my hands. Bryce’s kisses stop, halfway down my neckline. I peer through my fingers at him. His expression is serious again.
“I can go now, if you want me to,” he says. “Or we can just kiss. Whatever you feel comfortable with. You let me know.”
I know he’s aroused, and I’m touched by the effort he’s making.
I know he’s telling the truth, as well. If I told him to leave right now, he would.
Contrast that with Simon; towards the end of things with him, it didn’t seem as though my wishes mattered, him treating my body like a plaything to be used whenever he felt like it, even if I didn’t.
He used to act as though he was doing me a favour every time he went down on me, even if I tried to squirm away.
But I don’t want to think about Simon right now. I return my focus to the gorgeous man wrapped around me, dropping my hands from my face.
“I don’t want you to go.”
“What do you want? Tell me.” His fingers trace circles on my back, his breath warm on my throat as he dips his head once more, kissing down my neckline. My nipples harden, hot slickness at the top of my thighs. Fuck. No one has ever made me feel like this, not from just kissing.
“I want,” I say, between gasps, “to see where this goes.”
“Hmm,” he says, the sound vibrating against my skin. “Is that right?”
He moves me back towards the long wooden dining table next to the windows. The sky outside is almost dark, just faint flickers of sunset left. It feels as though it’s just me and him in the world, caught in the faint glow of the light from the kitchen.
He lifts me, his mouth returning to mine, and sits me on one end of the table. “Seems sturdy enough,” he says, a growl against me. I can hardly breathe.
Then he drops to his knees, his hands on my thighs. He spreads my legs, pushing my skirt up, then looks up at me. I’m trembling all over, my body tingling. I nod.
He leans in. His hair brushes against my inner thighs, feather-soft.
Then he kisses me over my knickers, the heat of his mouth coming through the lace.
He kisses along the crease at the top of my thigh, nibbling at me until I’m arching back, panting with anticipation.
His hand slides up my leg, then he pulls the crotch of my underwear aside.
One moment his warm breath is on my skin, then his tongue slides down between my folds, teasing my opening.
Oh god. He laps at me, penetrating me, drinking me in.
I whimper, one hand coming to his hair, my head back.
His tongue flickers like a flame between my thighs, fucking me slowly.
Pleasure builds inside me. Fuck. Simon never gave me oral like this.
Bryce is worshipping me, kissing me as though he wants to take me inside him, sucking and teasing me as though he doesn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.
His tongue continues to slide in and out of me, and it’s so fucking hot I can barely stand it.
Then he licks upwards, his lips closing around my clit.
I buck against him. I know I’m moaning his name, but I can’t seem to stop.
His fingertip comes to my opening, sliding through the wetness, circling me then entering just a short way, in and out, as he sucks my clit, flicking it with his tongue.
“Bryce,” I gasp. “Stop.”
He lifts his head, his mouth moist with my desire. “You okay?” His voice is rough, his breath coming hard.
I’m so close to coming, but I don’t want to do it alone.
“I want to suck you,” I say, shocked as the words leave my mouth. But it’s true.
His green gaze widens briefly. Then he slides my underwear off my legs and stands up, moving between my thighs, his hardness pressing against me.
I almost come there and then, but I want to get him there as well.
I wrap my legs around him and he lifts me, carrying me over to the long sofa. He lays me down on my side.
Then he kneels down next to the sofa, taking my thigh in one hand, opening me to him. And his head descends once more, his tongue on my clit.
“Unfair,” I gasp. I wriggle around as best I can, trying to reach the front of his trousers.
He growls against me then redoubles his efforts, opening me even more, his fingertips and tongue playing havoc with me, sliding through my wetness, circling my clit, my opening.
Then his finger slides inside me, completely, as he sucks my clit.
His finger curls, slightly, pressing into me.
And I go over the edge, crying out, writhing and moaning as ecstasy bursts through me.
Holy shit. I’ve never had an orgasm like it.
I come down, trembling, and I want more. I want him to fuck me. I want him to take me in every way.
He’s kissing up my stomach, his hand sliding through my wetness, stroking me. I roll onto my back and he lowers himself onto me, carefully, his weight delicious. “Bryce,” I murmur, as he kisses me and I taste myself, my passion, turning me on even more. “I want you to, I want—”
“Not like this, Claire.” He kisses down my neck, his hand sliding inside the neckline of my dress, playing with my nipples. “I want it to be special for you.”
“What about what I want?” I pant, writhing against him, trying to get my hips into position.
He lifts his head, his green gaze amused.
“Believe me, I want to fuck you. Can you feel how hard I am for you?” He rocks his hips against my still sensitive clit and I gasp.
“I want to give you everything you want. But we don’t have any condoms, unless you have a stash somewhere. ” He kisses the tip of my nose.
Oh. Yeah. That’s a problem. I stop wriggling. My hand comes between us, to the hardness pressing into me. I squeeze it lightly, and he takes in a breath.
“Then let me suck you,” I say.
“Do you want to?”
I don’t answer. Instead I kiss him, sucking on his tongue, while my hand moves between us. I’m so turned on I can hardly breathe, and I want to give him the pleasure he gave me.
And tomorrow I’m going out to buy condoms.
Screw the deal. This is as real as it’s ever going to be, and I want him. Even if we only have a month.
He lifts his head and rolls off me, his back to the back of the sofa. I sit up and turn myself around, lying down again so my body is close to his, my head at his groin. I undo his trousers, releasing him.
His cock is beautiful. Granted, I haven’t seen many of them.
But it’s long and thick and smooth. I lick the head, along the rosy slit, and he takes in a choked breath.
I slide my tongue down his length, at the same time cupping his balls, playing with them.
As I wet him with my tongue, I put my hand around his shaft, sliding it up and down in my mouth, sucking him.
“Fuck, Claire.” The choked groan comes from somewhere above me.
I suck him, worshipping him the way he does me, lapping him up, feeling him throb in my mouth.
He starts fucking my mouth, little thrusts, and I take it, overcome with sensation, the musky scent of him, his hardness in my mouth, his silky skin.
Then his hands are on my hips, pulling me to him, opening my thighs to his fingers, his tongue. I try not to scream against his dick, moaning as he starts licking me, playing with me, driving me up and over the edge once more, possessing my body like no one else ever has.
I fall apart again, unable to help it, moaning as I come. A moment later he does the same, spurting onto me as I pull back, stroking his shaft as it throbs in my hand.
I am a mess. My sofa is a mess.
And I don’t care at all.