Chapter 17 #2
Sad that it took a fucking fire to make everything so clear. I had never known fear like the fear that had nearly crippled me when I got that call. The entirety of my soul cried out in agony at the idea of losing her forever.
I pressed my lips to the top of her head, and she groaned softly, wiggling against me.
“Careful there,” I teased, stroking her back.
“You don’t want to awaken the sleeping giant.
” It was getting a little tougher every day to be close to her like this and not do anything about it, but she needed to recover.
That was the ultimate priority. My dick and his needs could wait.
Or so I told myself before she wiggled again, this time very deliberately brushing against my dick through my underwear.
“Maybe that’s what I wanted to do,” she whispered, running her hand over my bare abs. “I inhaled a little smoke. I didn’t die.” She was joking, of course, and she made a good point.
But it wasn’t a joke to me. “I just want to take care of you.”
“And that is so sweet of you.” Her fingers traveled lower, testing my very soul once they brushed against my thickening dick.
“But I know what I need. And I need this. Please, don’t treat me like I’m going to break,” she begged, nuzzling my neck, stroking me through the cotton between us.
The T-shirt I’d given her to wear shifted up when she draped her leg over my thigh, exposing creamy skin which my hands ached to touch.
It was enough to break my resolve. Nobody could say I hadn’t tried when she lifted her head, her luminous blue eyes staring into mine. I saw the want in them. “Remind me why I bothered getting out of there,” she whispered, her mouth seeking mine.
There was no choice but to allow myself to taste what I had stayed away from for days.
My skin heated at the connection, the reclaiming of what I craved.
Each kiss led to another, my tongue traveling over her lips, delving inside, tantalizing us while inching the shirt farther over her thigh.
Her skimpy thong might as well have not existed.
I toyed with it, my fingers dancing over the lace that was already moistening over her mound. She was so ready, so willing.
My cock twitched under her hand. She moaned and tugged at my waistband to slide a hand beneath it.
I gasped, my body going stiff at the sudden contact.
Incredible, electric, something I could have lost. Her fingers wrapped around me, using my precum to move over my shaft.
It was paradise, mind-blowing, and I let myself sink into the pleasure while working my fingers under her thong and delving through her swollen folds.
Fuck, she was wet, hot, moving her hips against my fingers.
By the time I reached behind me into the nightstand for a condom, she was in a hurry, sitting up to pull the T-shirt over her head and lying back to remove her thong.
“No, just like that,” I told her before she could roll onto her back.
She stayed on her side, facing me, so I could drape her thigh over my hip and line up with her.
Her sharp gasp rang out in my ear once I entered her, and the sound softened to a moan as I slid deep. Tight, so tight, determined to make me come. Instinct compelled me to take her hard, fast, to claim her until she screamed my name.
Instead, I moved so slowly, soaking in every bit of her, every inch of me moving inside her. I had to make it last, to memorize every moment, every sound she made, every tender sigh.
How was she so soft? My hand glided over her, sliding down her side, over her hip, then over the leg she draped over mine. I pulled it higher, spreading her wider, sinking in deeper than before.
Her eyes closed, her mouth open in a silent gasp. Her breath fanned across my face, her lips close enough to brush my own. The beating of her heart reverberated against my chest, matching my rhythm. So slowly I could make this last a lifetime if I tried.
“You feel so good inside me,” she whimpered, her eyes still closed, her brow furrowed in concentration.
It was like she wanted it to last, too, as if she wanted to live fully in every moment.
What was it like, having come so close to dying and feeling so alive now?
The arm around her back tightened, pulling her tight against my chest. I was afraid to hurt her but unable to resist the need to keep her close.
Protected. Safe with me. It wasn’t enough to be inside her, to feel her body come alive because of mine.
I needed all of her, here and now and always.
I caught her mouth and lips, letting her sighs guide my strokes.
She was slick, hot, tightening a little all the time.
The soft gasp that sounded when I stroked the curve of her ass cheeks intrigued me, made me do it again, experimenting, toying with her.
Giving her all the pleasure she was capable of.
Filling her with it the way I filled her with my cock.
It was all I wanted to do, but it was not enough. Nothing ever would be.
“Sebastian,” she whispered, her lips traveling down my jaw, over my neck, my shoulder. Her fingers curved into claws that raked my back even as she kissed me tenderly, deeply. I wanted to be lost in her, never to find my way out.
Soon there was nothing but our shuddering breaths, faster all the time. She was getting close, and so was I with every stroke. Her leg clamped tight around me, drawing me deeper, her hips moving with mine.
We were in this together.
And we came together, clutching each other tightly, giving ourselves over to whatever magic we created.
I was here to hold her through it all, and that’s what I did I held her throughout the night, long after the rush of heat had passed, listening to her breathing until I was satisfied she was safe.
Only then could I sleep.
“What I don’t understand is why you need to go in to work at all?” I was fighting a losing battle, and I knew it as we faced off from opposite sides of the bed the morning after we had sex or made love or whatever the fuck it was we’d done. I couldn’t wrap my head around it twelve hours later.
“Because you’re already going in to handle things, and I’m tired of lying around.
” She stomped a foot to punctuate her point.
When I sighed in exasperation, she did the same.
“I’m serious. Please, don’t ask me to hang out here while you go in without me.
I appreciate you taking care of me like this, but forcing me to stay locked up isn’t helping. ”
What could I do? She was a grown woman capable of making her own decisions, no matter whether I agreed or not.
“If it’s that important to you, fine. But I don’t want you to overdo it,” I added, shaking my head when her mouth fell open, preparing to protest. “That’s a hard boundary.
If you’re tired or winded, you sit down and rest. Otherwise, you oversee things.
You don’t spend all that time on your feet. ”
“You didn’t seem to care so much about me being tired and winded last night,” she reminded me.
“You were the one lying down…” I shot back, buckling my belt with a smirk. “I did all the heavy lifting.” She couldn’t argue with that, and I couldn’t argue with her dedication.
Within the hour, we were parked behind the kitchen as usual, with me resisting the impulse to help Claudia out of her car.
She would hate it if I tried the withering look she’d given me when I suggested driving her was bad enough.
Settling to wait for her by the back door, I held it open and followed her inside.
“Oh! Claudia!” Stella forgot whatever she was in the middle of doing, rushing over with her arms outstretched. “We were so worried when we heard. Oh my God!”
“I checked in on her and tried to convince her to take it easy,” I announced, hands lifted in surrender in case anyone thought to blame me. “She wouldn’t listen.”
“Hey, Chef.” Lucas draped an arm around her shoulders when Stella finally released her.
His curious glance my way left me reflecting on the silent communication people could develop when they’d worked together for as long as we had.
His gaze darted to her, then back to me, an eyebrow arching. I shrugged, offering a slight nod.
He considered it for a few moments, then shrugged the way I had, a slight smile lifting the corners of his mouth—message received and accepted. “Good to see you,” he told her once he’d processed the news. “Are you sure you’re okay to be here?”
“I am absolutely fine.” However, I heard the weakness in her voice, her shallow breathing. It was one thing to feel fine when all she did was sit up in bed all day, but now she was on her feet. She did her best to keep her chin up, though. “Thank you.”
Lucas turned his attention my way, concern knitting his brows together. “How’s it looking over there? I drove past… it was pretty grim.”
My mood darkened, rage clouding my brain. “Not great. The fire marshal is supposed to get back to me any time now.”
“It just seems like after everything else that already happened…” I could practically see inside his skull, and it was clear we were thinking along the same lines.
“I probably left something on,” Claudia insisted, full of sadness and self-reproach. “It was so late. I was moving on autopilot. I could have left a burner on.”
“Let’s wait and see before we start blaming anyone, including ourselves,” I advised. I needed to take my own advice since, in my mind, Kristoff was already in prison for arson. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave evidence behind, though. Would he?
The sense of living in limbo was close to driving me crazy by the time service began.
Of course, our guests wanted to hear about Claudia, concerned over her well-being after hearing about her on the news.
Though I didn’t love the idea, she decided to pop her head out from the kitchen to greet people a few times during the course of the evening, like she was proving she was alive and well.
Seeing their reactions warmed my heart, realizing how genuinely relieved they were to find her in good shape.
When I reflected on my attitude the first couple of weeks Claudia was with me, how I’d disparaged these people along with her for being locked in this strange fame game, I was ashamed of myself. They truly seemed to care.
I made sure she sat and rested between times, threatening to tie her to the chair in my office more than once.
“I heard you out there, and you sounded weak,” I told her at one point late in the evening, checking my phone for only the hundredth time, hoping for a message pointing me toward the fire’s origin.
Her face screwed up like she was ready for battle, but one of the servers called out, stopping her. “Claudia? There’s somebody out here who wants to see you.”
We exchanged a look.
“Who is it?” she asked while she rubbed a hand over her face, exhausted. No amount of pretending would convince me otherwise.
“He wouldn’t say. He just said he was a friend who needed to see you.”
A male friend? I arched an eyebrow, jealousy tightening my chest. She only shrugged. “I don’t have any guy friends. I really don’t have any friends out here at all,” she insisted.
“Probably some asshole reporter thinking he can lure you into making an appearance,” I decided. “I’ll get rid of him.”
“No, let me,” she insisted as she stood with a weary sigh. “I can’t have you do all my fighting for me.”
I admired her strength, but there was something she didn’t understand—that was all I wanted to do.
I would be her warrior because I now knew for sure how brave she was.
How hard she fought to make it out of the kitchen.
The least I could do was ease some of her challenges by taking some of the burden off her shoulders.
Especially since I was convinced Kristoff set the fire as a final fuck you.
I followed at a slight distance, giving her space. She opened the door to the dining room, her head swiveling as she took in the tables, then froze at the side of a tall, contrite-looking man who stood at the bar.
I didn’t need to ask who he was. I knew it the moment I identified the look on his face like she was his.
Her single, whispered word confirmed what I’d suspected. “Brandon.”