Chapter Seventeen #2
Just how good did Sam smell? His broad chest rose and fell beneath her cheek.
Her pulse quickened. What would it feel like if the barriers were removed?
If she could pull him even closer, feel the full weight of his arms around her, feel his skin against hers.
What would happen if they let this shift into something more?
The idea sent a jolt through her, and she almost stumbled. ‘Sorry.’
Sam’s grip on her tightened a little, and she realised she’d not been in any real danger of falling. He wouldn’t have allowed it.
The physical pull she felt towards him was stronger than it had ever been, and it wasn’t just the dancing. She was craving him in a way that was concerning and impossible to ignore.
‘I’m bursting for the loo,’ she said when the dance finished. ‘That drink must have gone straight through me.’
‘Thanks for sharing that.’ Sam smirked at her as they went back to their seats.
‘Any time.’ Clara winked, picked up her bag and headed for the bathrooms.
It was blissfully cool and quiet compared to the lively chaos of the wedding party. After she’d been to the loo, she took her comb out of her bag and ran it through her mussed-up hair. Her cheeks were flushed. She couldn’t entirely blame the dancing for that either. This had so much to do with Sam.
As she popped her comb back in her bag, something on the wall caught her eye. A condom machine. What the hell? Why am I looking at that? But she didn’t move. Instead, she stood chewing her lip, her eyes flicking between the machine and the exit.
It wasn’t like she needed them. But her mind ran off ahead. What if they got as close in bed later as they had done on the dancefloor? She’d be a liar to say she didn’t want to.
Better safe than sorry? Or just wishful thinking?
Before she could talk herself out of it, she dug into her handbag for her card.
She followed the instructions on the machine.
Hell. She’d never done this before What if someone came in?
Bizarre thoughts went through her mind like the advice she gave students about always being safe and how they should never be embarrassed about it.
Jeez, is that easier said than done? The clatter of the box falling into the tray was louder than she expected, making her flinch.
She grabbed it and stuffed it into her bag.
No one needed to know it was there. It was purely precautionary. If she had some more to drink, she might be too incapacitated to do anything… but she also needed to be able to walk back to the cottage.
Returning to the party, she kept her head low as she made her way around the dancefloor. What was she even doing? Sinful thoughts about Sam had taken up far too much of her brain space tonight. Maybe she was manifesting now.
‘There you are.’ Sam smiled up at her as she reached her seat. ‘You ok?’
‘Fine.’
He took a sip of his drink, the curve of his throat catching her attention. ‘You had enough dancing, or do you want to go again?’
‘I can keep it up all night. You?’
He raised an eyebrow, a slow grin tugging at his mouth. ‘I’m not entirely sure how to take that.’
‘Oh my god.’ Clara clapped her hand to her mouth, feeling her cheeks flame. ‘I so didn’t mean that.’
Though… maybe subconsciously she had.
Manifesting again?
He laughed – a low, rich rumble that rolled right through her. ‘I was joking, though I’m sure I’d have no trouble right now.’
Before she could even process what he’d said, he was on his feet, holding out his hand. ‘Come on. Let’s dance.’
His palm was warm against hers as he pulled her up, and her pulse tripped a little faster.
They stepped back onto the dance floor, the music thumping gently through the floorboards.
Sam twirled her, his hand sliding along her back as he caught her again, close this time – closer than before.
Clara’s laugh came easily, but underneath it, heat coiled low in her stomach.
The tension in her head melted away, replaced by something heavier and much sweeter.
Everything was so easy and fun with this man – but also hot. The way he moved, the way his hand lingered for just a second too long, the way his eyes caught hers and held them – it all left her breathless.
‘My sister’s wedding reception was hilarious,’ she said. ‘We played games like musical statues and the hokey cokey. It was such fun.’
‘Sounds amazing.’ Sam spun her again. ‘I would have loved it. I used to be addicted to the hokey cokey.’
‘Seriously?’ Clara stared at him.
‘Oh yeah. But thankfully I turned myself around.’
Clara slow-blinked and looked away. ‘You get worse. But it’s better than a pun about putting in and out and shaking it all about, I suppose.’
That cheeky smile of his spread across his face before he burst out laughing. ‘Ok, you win.’
His laughter faded, but the sparkle in his eyes didn’t. It stayed as his hand lingered at her waist. The air between them stretched thin. Clara’s breath caught. His warmth filtered through the fine fabric of her dress, and her pulse raced in response.
She looked up, unable to break the connection and not wanting to. Her heart skipped and stumbled, everything inside her leaning forward, waiting. The more time she spent with him, the harder it was to ignore the pull – or the ache that came with it.
Maybe he felt it too. Maybe this was the moment everything changed.
But before she could say a word, someone called Sam’s name across the dance floor. He blinked, turned his head, and the moment slipped, leaving Clara suspended between hope and uncertainty.
Was she imagining it? Or had he been about to close that last, impossible inch?
Either way, she suddenly knew one thing for sure.
If she wanted answers, she’d have to find the courage to ask.