CHAPTER TWENTY CLARKE #2
Would she like that? Does she want me to?
He could feel himself lowering his head and leaning toward her.
Maybe just a chaste kiss.
Suddenly he felt her hands around his neck, and she pulled his lips to hers.
Her mouth was soft and warm, the kiss—gentle, like touching a rose petal with his lips.
And then her lips were gone and she pulled away.
I’m not done with you yet.
He reached around her waist and yanked her to him. Then he took her throat in his hands, marveling again at its fragility.
It’s like the bone china Aunt Delilah spoke of.
He pulled her lips to his, and then her body, as he wrapped his arms around her. He opened her mouth with his own and his tongue found hers.
You taste so sweet.
He could feel by the rapid rising of her chest against his that she was struggling for breath, and still he didn’t let go.
I’ll give you mine.
And then something told him he should stop. Was it the sudden realization that they were not alone? But that had been the point, hadn’t it? Only now, it felt like what they were doing—was—what?
Something else. But it couldn’t be … something else.
He pulled away. Her eyes were still closed. Suddenly, she blinked. Her cheeks were flushed. That was understandable. Under the circumstances. But he couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from them.
“Look who came, honey,” he heard Tiffany say.
Clarke turned around to see Hank Rivers holding out his hand. Clarke took it. “Leo Clarke, sir,” he said as the man pumped his hand up and down. “I’m dating your daughter.”
“Well, I should hope so after that public display.”
Hank laughed and the men around him laughed as well. Clarke had the feeling he expected him to join in. But Clarke didn’t. Something about it made him uncomfortable, especially since Ceci remained silent.
He pulled Clarke forward, placing his other hand on his shoulder. It had all the appearance of a warm and friendly greeting, only it didn’t feel that way. Maybe because as a result of her father doing it, Ceci was now standing directly behind Clarke.
Clarke was the first to release his grip.
He turned back and, placing his arm around Ceci’s waist, pulled her forward to stand alongside him. He felt her stiffen.
“I must say I’m surprised,” Hank said. “I heard rumors but I thought that’s all they were.”
“No,” Clarke said, “as you can see.”
“So,” he said, “you going to turn things around this year? You have some steep competition.”
Clarke looked around. Anker was gone.
He turned back, making certain to look the man in the eye when he spoke. “You mean your daughter.”
“This is my son,” Hank said, ignoring Clarke’s comment, pulling the boy forward and placing his hands on his shoulders. “It’s his birthday.”
Clarke smiled at the boy. “Happy Birthday.”
“He’s just started karting,” Hank said. “Maybe you can give him some pointers.”
“Sure.”
Clarke gripped Ceci tighter, pulling her in so he could feel her body next to his. She felt what? Lighter? But not in a good way. In a way that suggested she might drift away or suddenly evaporate if he didn’t keep her here.
“My dad’s going to start up a new F2 team,” the boy said.
“So I heard.” Still smiling, Clarke’s focus shifted to Ceci’s father. “Maybe you could do me a favor and consider hiring your daughter as a team principal or a driver. Anything to get her away from F1. It’d make things a lot easier for me.”
A flash of something that felt like electricity shot through him, and he flinched at the sudden and unexpected nature of it. He cast a sidelong glance at Ceci and realized the jolt had come from her.
Hank Rivers nodded. “I imagine it’s difficult competing against someone you’re involved with.”
That wasn’t what Clarke had meant because they weren’t in fact involved, at least not in that way.
Of course, her father didn’t know that. But Clarke couldn’t help but think the man was intentionally misinterpreting him.
Given Ceci had bested Clarke the last few years, he’d thought it was obvious what he’d meant.
A Formula 1 season without Ceci Rivers as team principal of Blue Jet Lightning was sure to improve Clarke’s chances of winning races and that trophy.
But maybe that was something her father refused to acknowledge.
Someone tapped Mr. Rivers on the shoulder and he turned around, momentarily pausing their conversation.
Should he say something? Clarke looked over at Ceci, seeking some guidance. But she’d suddenly grown quiet. It was so unlike her.
She’d invited him here to make things easier for her.
At least that was his impression. He felt fairly certain that meant make things easier with her father.
Although other than what he’d already done, he wasn’t altogether sure how he was supposed to do that.
He wasn’t even sure he’d calculated correctly with that kiss.
Perhaps correcting the man wasn’t the way to go.
Finally, her father turned back around.
“Probably not the smartest move to become involved with someone from a rival team,” he said.
“But if she is going to make that mistake, it gratifies me to see that it’s you.
I’m happy to have you in my home. I hope this will be the first of many visits.
I know my boy here is thrilled to have you here.
His friends will be coming in about an hour or so. I hope you’ll stick around.”
“Of course.”
“We were just about to go out and do a little shooting. How are you with a rifle?”
“Not bad,” Clarke said.
“Well, come join us.”
Clarke was prepared to follow him, but Ceci grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
“There’s something I want to show him,” she said. “He’ll join you later. Come on,” Ceci said, turning around. “Put your arm around me if you want this to look good,” she whispered as they walked away. “And what the hell are you doing here?”
“You don’t remember inviting me?”
“I did?”
“Last night.”
“Why did you come up and put your arm around me like that?”
“Because Tilney had his arm around you and I’m the one who’s—”
“Fake dating me?”
“Uh … yeah.”
“What happened to your lip?”
“You don’t remember that either? We were at a bar. You pushed me away so you could knee a man who was about to hit me, and I flew into the edge of the bar. Thank you.”
She frowned. “For what?”
“For coming to my rescue. Defending my honor.”
She chuckled. “You’re welcome.”
What possessed him to do what he was about to, he couldn’t say. Maybe it was the sight of Aunt Delilah grinning back at him as they left the drawing room. But once they’d ventured down the hallway and were about to enter another room, he allowed his hand to drift down and squeeze her ass.
She whirled around. “What was that?”
“He froze and thought, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I don’t know.” He faltered. “You wanted to make it look good. And couples, I mean people who are together, they do that kind of thing … sometimes, don’t they? I guess I figured after that kiss …”
Crossing her arms, she glared at him. “We’re in an empty room. There’s no one here to see.”
She’s right.
Shit.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t move. And said nothing.
“I really am sorry. What can I do?” he stammered. “Do you want to squeeze my ass?”
Without missing a beat she responded, her tone nonchalant, “Yes.”
He hadn’t expected that.
“Really?”
“Yes. Really. I want to squeeze your ass. It’s only fair.”
She peered at him when he hesitated. “Are you afraid yours won’t stand up to mine?”
He laughed. “I think it’s fair to say my ass is pretty fine.” Stop there. But … I don’t want to stop there. “Maybe not so fine as yours.”
She turned her head.
No doubt so I can’t see her face.
He held out his arms. “Okay, go ahead. Should I turn around?”
She bit her lip. “No.” She approached and stopped right in front of him.
She could reach around him right now. If she wanted.
So do it already.
She inched closer. If he moved an inch, perhaps even a fraction of an inch, her body would be flush with his.
“Do you have a preference?” she asked. “Left? Or right?”
Shaking his head, he grinned. “You can squeeze both if you like.”
She placed one hand on each cheek. “Should I give you a warning?”
“Surprise me.”
And that she did. When she squeezed, his dick throbbed and the surge of heat that shot through him jolted him so that he stumbled forward, throwing his arms around her to keep both of them from falling.
Once he’d steadied them, he looked down. “So?”
“Not bad,” she said.
“High praise, indeed.”
She laughed. And one thought and one thought only ran through his head.
Kiss her. For real, this time.
He placed one finger under her chin, lifting her lips to meet his as he bent down.
“Ceci!” a voice cried.
Anker.
She pushed him away.
“Are we interrupting?”
And Tilney. Fucking Tilney.