Chapter 12
Zeno
The city was quiet as I parked my car in front of my brownstone and turned it off. The early morning traffic hadn’t been as bad as I had expected, and the drive back into the city from Paulo’s took less time than I’d thought.
Spending the night away from my home had left me on edge as my mind swirled with concerns about Berto and Paulo and Angelo. About Nadia and Michele and Mario.
There didn’t seem to be anyone I wasn’t worried about.
But the torrent of people who troubled my mind hadn’t kept away worries of my favorite little hurricane.
Guilt ate at me for the way I’d left her yesterday morning. I couldn’t help but wonder if I should have given her more of my time before racing away from her as fast as I could.
Now, staring up at the silent building, I ached for the chaos she brought to my life.
I climbed the front stoop and unlocked the door, then locked it all back up the minute I stepped inside. With heavy feet, I dragged myself upstairs, ready for a long, hot shower and a week’s worth of sleep. But my feet stopped me on the second level, and I stared longingly at Clara’s bedroom door.
Some fucked up part of me couldn’t help but wish she was here. Before I could stop myself, I was walking that way, pushing open her door and stepping inside.
There was nothing but disappointment there.
Clara wasn’t tucked into her bed, sleeping soundly like she so often did. Her room was empty, nothing but her usual mess of papers and clothes strewn around the space. Her bed was made, just as it had been when I’d peeked inside yesterday morning before I left.
My disappointment had me shuffling across the room, clutching at the cage of my ribs as it tightened around my heart. I sat on the bed, shoving my hands through the long strands of my hair before I buried my face in my palms.
The room smelled like her.
Like a storm cloud.
A light rain.
Like honey and sunshine and the sweetness of spring flowers blooming in the trees.
I longed to be held in her tight embrace, to live in her turmoil and soothe away her inner pain.
But she wasn’t here.
And I was tired as fuck.
Tired, exhausted, and slightly hungover.
I flopped back on the bed, rolled over and buried my face in the pillow where she laid her head. I breathed in her scent and felt my blood stirring, awakening parts of me that, quite frankly, didn’t need to wake up.
I didn’t need to get hard while lying in her bed, thinking of her and all the things I tried not to think about but so clearly failed.
Clara.
My Clara.
I want you to live your life to the fullest.
Paulo’s voice floated in my head. His reminders that I was my own person, that I had my own needs.
Needs I’d been suppressing my entire life, especially the past few years.
With my dick throbbing and my heart a mess, I tossed Clara’s pillow back where it belonged and climbed from the mattress, determined to fall asleep in my own bed upstairs.
Each thunk of my feet against the steps mimicked the hard press of my heart in my chest, and I felt pressure building in my head, the way it did when the weather changed and a storm blew in off the coast.
A storm cloud hovered over my bed.
My little hurricane was tucked inside.
Beautiful.
Sinful.
Sleeping Clara.
The girl was snuggled under my covers, curled around the little cloud pillow I’d bought her when she was only two. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she looked innocent.
She wore innocent so well.
I lowered myself to the mattress beside her.
I curled my arm around her and pulled her to my chest.
And I fell asleep with perfection surrounding me.
A raging storm that lulled me into sleep.
“Clara.” A groan accompanied her name as it fell from my lips. The dream churning through my mind felt so real, for a brief moment, I thought it might be. But there was no way. No way I would have done that again. Woke up wound around her naked body, touching her in places I had no right to touch.
That dream was beyond my wildest imagination. Her touch felt so right, her fingers smoothing over my chest. Plucking at my nipples, sliding through my hair, fingering the tattoos that marked me like the hurricane that ruled my life.
I ached head to toe. Need pulsed through me like a heartbeat, blood pumping through my dick in time with the wild beat of my pulse.
I could almost feel her slick pussy dripping her arousal onto my cock, and I clenched my hands, as if I could squeeze her ass and make her ride me straight to hell and back.
It was the quiet moan from her throat that tore my dream to shreds. Because that moan wasn’t hidden inside the dark recesses of my head. It came from beneath me as I was picturing myself curling my fingers inside her pussy, and it preceded a moan of my own as I dreamt of her hand clutching my dick.
Reality hit me as Clara’s lips touched my throat, pulling me out of my dream and to the very real scene that was playing out in my bed.
My hand was in her pants.
Her hand was in mine, too.
And I had her pinned to the mattress as she sucked and licked and bit at the sensitive flesh of my throat.
I couldn’t have stopped her if I’d wanted to. I was too lost to the sensations, my body craving the release I was sure I could only get at her hands.
At the thought, my fingers curled again, and Clara threw her head back, gasping out a glorious sound that had me wanting to do it again and again.
“Fuck.” She was beautiful, her slick pussy clenching around my fingers, her sweet body cushioning every thrust of my hips as her hand slid along my hard shaft.
She was beautiful, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving against me, her body trembling as I slid my fingers in and out of her tight clutch.
She was beautiful, her orgasm cresting before her entire body went slack.
Pretty brown eyes peered up at me with a heavy-lidded stare. For a moment, all I could do was watch. Then she lifted her head, pressed her lips to my own, and squeezed her fingers around my cock.
Fuck.
It felt so good, and I couldn’t stop the thrust of my hips. Just as I couldn’t stop the one that followed, or all the ones after that. Clara Vinci had me wrapped around her finger, even as her fingers were wrapped around me.
I was in the eye of the storm, surrounded by her chaos and lost to the turmoil that raged through me like the beat of a drum.
But her fingers weren’t enough. In my desperation, I tore my hand free from between her legs, gripped her hips hard and rolled onto my back. She gasped, and I took the moment to tear my mouth away from hers, before I was jerking her body along my aching cock.
“Fuck, Clara!”
She moaned again, then dropped until her chest was pressed to mine, until her lips were coasting along my throat once again. She sucked my skin as I thrust into the space between us, letting the dampness of her panties become a poor substitute for the warm, wet heat I craved.
“Fuck, I can’t.”
“Zee—” It was a whisper cut off by a hard thrust, a plea riding on the raging wind.
But I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t ask her what, because my body was revolting and doing whatever it damn well pleased.
My balls pulled up and lightning zipped along my spine as Clara rode the steel beam of my cock as I spurted my cum onto my gut.
I tightened my grip on her, refusing to let her go.
Refusing to face what I’d just done with this girl.
Panting above me, Clara tucked her face into the crook of my neck. Her lips scraped along my throat, stirring inside of me a tsunami wave of feelings I was sure I shouldn't have.
“Clara—”
“Don’t.” It was just a whisper. “Please don’t, Zee. Please, just let me hold you. Just for a little while.”
My chest pulled tight, and I gave into her plea. I gave in, because I wanted the exact same thing.
Just for a little while.
When our breathing had calmed and the dampness between us became sticky and cold, Clara sucked in a deep breath, then lifted her head. Her eyes were still puffy, though they were no longer red. She peered down at me with a thick coat of caution painted on her face.
Through that caution, she allowed but a single crack. The tiniest smile tilting the corner of her lips.
“I love you.”
I pushed my head backward into my pillow, closed my eyes as tight as I could.
This was a nightmare.
Even worse, I still wanted her.
Clara’s fingers danced across my skin. She touched my lips, my throat, sliding down until she covered the tattoo over my heart.
My little hurricane.
I loved her too.
“Clara.” I couldn’t say more, because what would I say? That we couldn’t do this again? That this was a mistake?
It was. It was the biggest fucking mistake.
But with her body over mine, with her hands upon my chest and my hips nestled between her thighs, I knew, there was no way this wasn’t happening again.
No matter how wrong that was.
“You don’t have any patients until three.”
I let one eye open, and I found storm clouds hovering over her pretty little head. Her sadness covered her, even as she tried to wash it away.
“How do you know that?”
She shrugged. “I looked at your calendar. You gave me access to it last year, remember?”
Of course. I gave her access to my calendar so I could keep her away from me and my patients. So she could see when I needed her out of my hair, quiet in the upper floors of my house.
Even then, I’d been pushing her away.
I was no different than her own family.
My next question made me feel even worse. Because I had access to her calendar, too, and I didn’t know a damn thing. “When’s your next class?”
She shrugged again. “Ten minutes ago.”
“Clara!” I struggled to sit up, but the girl was still straddling my lap, her breasts were still pressed against me, nothing but a thin cotton tank top keeping her nipples from scraping along my chest.
While I was distracted by that, Clara took my face in her hands, and the urgency I felt, the arousal that followed, froze as I waited for her to ruin everything with her kiss.
“I already spoke to my professor,” she said, her thumbs sweeping the corners of my lips. “Today was just a review for the test I made him let me take last week. He agreed I didn’t need to come in today.”
Her eyes didn’t meet mine when she spoke. Instead, she followed the movement of her thumbs, tracked her gaze over the lower half of my face.
Stared at my lips.
I wanted her to kiss me again.
I wanted to delve into her mouth with my tongue, to taste her and touch her and sink my dick into her over and over again.
There would be no stopping me if she did it. I was too weak, and she was too… perfect. Sitting there across my lap. Body just barely covered by her tank and shorts. Skin so smooth and warm beneath my palms.
She swallowed hard, then lifted her gaze to find mine. “Can you give me another driving lesson today?”
Her request fell like a heavy weight upon my shoulders. I lowered my chin, and found myself staring right at her full, pouty lips.
Found myself disappointed that she wasn’t kissing me again.
But still. It was the right choice. The right thing to do.
“There won’t be time to drive out to Paulo’s again.”
Her head bobbed, and her voice sounded so small when she said, “I know.”
“Are you okay driving in the city?”
Before answering, she smoothed her hands over the sides of my head, letting her fingers tangle in my hair. “If you’re there with me, I can do anything.”
“Clara…” I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop myself.
I wrapped my arms around the girl, tugging her closer until she was plastered against my body.
Until the cold stickiness of my release was pressed between our stomachs, reminding me of what we’d just done, of what, with her request, we wouldn’t be doing again.
She held me tight, and I didn’t want to let her go. It wasn’t until she released me, when she pulled back and gave me another of her sad smiles, that I gave in to the knowledge that she’d made the right choice.
“Go get cleaned up,” I told her, the words scraping through my throat. “Then we can go.”