CHAPTER 17 #2
Cuddling had never been his thing. He hadn’t ever seen the point after the main event was over.
So, it came as yet another surprise to him that he did not mind, but even more than that, he felt a certain peace to hold her this way, every protective instinct he had on alert, like that of a caveman watching over his sleeping female.
Only, this sleeping female wasn’t his. Something in his chest swirled uncomfortably at the thought.
She stirred, her cheek moving back and forth over his pec, her hips shifting as if trying to get closer, even though he thought that was a physical impossibility. Somehow, she did, turning slightly at the same time. Now, she was rubbing directly on his thigh.
She was wet. Of course she was. There hadn’t been a condom to contain him.
Christ.
He’d never been reckless or stupid, and he couldn’t decide if what he’d just done qualified.
But everything he said and did with Claire was different and unprecedented, and it had been from the first time he’d spotted her in the bar at Lark.
He’d always had a high drive, but with her, it had gone feral, which had resulted in unprotected sex.
But damn, it had felt incredible.
Ian looked up at the ceiling and around the room as if he could find some answers in the ornate crown molding that matched the heavy mirror frame. He’d never experienced that level of sensation. Neither had he known this level of connection. The combination had been earth-shattering.
He pressed his nose to Claire’s hair, inhaling her essence. Her eyelids fluttered, her lashes lifted, and the moment her eyes met his, she smiled like the cat who had lapped all the cream.
“I fell asleep,” she said, stating the obvious.
“You only slept for a few minutes.” He smiled. “It’s more like you passed out.”
“It was so good that I blacked out.”
Ian smirked. “The tequila or me?”
“I already told you. I wasn’t drunk.” She smoothed her hand over his chest, then lower, instantly causing him to stir to life. “I never got drunk and never will.”
She sounded adamant, and his curiosity piqued. “You never told me why you’re so dead set against drinking.”
She frowned, and something dark glinted in her eyes. A moment passed before she answered. “I had a difficult home life growing up because of alcohol. But I don’t want to talk about that right now.”
“Understood.”
He wished she would have opened up and told him more, but he wasn’t about to push. And now, her hand was sliding slowly down his abdomen, finally bumping into what she had caused.
The darkness in her expression dissipated, and she smiled against his chest. “Already?”
That smile was like the sun breaking through clouds, and Ian was more than happy to be the one who helped replace darkness with light. “Of course. I have to make up for all the time we lost today.”
“Mmm.” She languidly caressed his lower abs. “You have the highest stamina I’ve ever seen.”
His brow furrowed despite the sensations her hand was causing. Just how much stamina had she experienced?
Her hand stilled. “That was supposed to be a compliment.”
He kissed the top of her head. “And taken as such.”
“Then why that look?”
No way was he going there. “Speaking of compliments, I don’t think I complimented you enough on your singing.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yeah, that. Don’t discount yourself. You were incredible. Where did you learn to sing like that?”
“My mother thought I should have voice lessons.”
“And ballet.”
“You remembered.”
“It shows every time you get up and walk, Penny.”
“My mother had big dreams of raising a Broadway star.”
“And there you went and became an attorney.”
“Yeah. She was disappointed. But still proud of me. Then again, I think she’d be proud of me if I scooped poop for a living.”
“Scooped poop?”
“Yeah. Haven’t you seen those trucks? They visit people’s yards and clean up after their dogs.”
His lips twitched. “Can’t say I have. How’s your mom doing?”
“No change. She’s still getting chemo.”
“Have you found a donor yet?”
“No.”
He wanted very badly to help. How could he?
Ian’s gaze drifted to the blue sky visible through the sliding glass door, a wild idea forming in his mind.
It was a long shot, a sliver of a chance, but knowing her mother was of Norwegian ancestry, maybe …
maybe? How could he go about getting tested?
He would have to make some calls, he decided, as soon as he could get out of earshot.
Claire’s fingertips circled his belly button, completely distracting him. She gripped a lock of her long hair and used it like a brush to trace his pecs, drawing a shudder from him.
“Ian?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“I don’t understand it, this thing we have,” she said softly.
What did she think they had? “What thing?”
“This unbelievable sexual chemistry.”
“Is that what it is?”
All it is?
“You don’t think so?”
He kissed the top of her head. “We certainly do have chemistry, Penny.”
“By the way,” she said, “I’m on birth control, and I don’t have any STIs.”
His chest lurched in a silent chuckle. “Neither do I. A little late for that exchange of information.”
“Better late than never.”
“You didn’t need to spell it out. I trust you. As for me, I always use protection.”
Her hand stilled. She looked up, scrutinizing his features. “Always?”
He nodded. “Always.”
Her lips parted. Her green eyes grew very wide, and she blinked a few times before speaking again. “Does that mean …?”
He caught her gaze and held it. “That means exactly what you think it does.”
“Every time?”
“Since my first time, yes.”
He’d been responsible even as a fumbling teenager. While sending so many willing women he didn’t want his way, his brother Adam had made sure to drill it into his head to always wear a condom.
“Well, then.” A slow grin spread across her face. “I’m happy to be the one to pop your bareback cherry.”
A thread of disappointment snaked through Ian. She didn’t seem to realize what a monumental thing this was for him.
He swiftly shoved aside his feelings, curving his lips into a smirk. “I’m not sure you’ll be so happy when you realize the monster you created.”