The Sweetest Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book) (16 page)

Jace touched her cheek. Claire leaned against the touch, eager for more. She brought his hand to her mouth, kissing Jace’s fingers one by one, watching the goose bumps run over his skin and the flicker of desire in his eyes. Jace yanked back the sheets and tumbled on top of her.

Claire laughed, kissing him with all her might.

He returned it, and then his kiss deepened. His mouth made magic on her senses. A rush of wetness formed between her thighs. Her skin tingled with anticipation and desire. Her body screamed for more, for her to hurry, the pinnacle of pleasure being so close. But she didn’t listen. She listened to her heart.

He undressed her piece by piece, his gaze eating her up. Hers did the same to him, watching every layer come off, right down to his erection. Oh, what had she gotten herself into? She scolded herself, remembering that there were worse things than falling for a well-endowed man.

The warmth of his skin on hers pushed the juvenile thoughts about size away. She grasped his flesh and explored.

Jace moaned into her mouth and drew closer. His skin was so warm, his contours so thoroughly masculine. Claire’s breath became ragged. A flutter of need permeated her limbs, her belly, and her throat. She nearly shook from it, and when Jace settled between her legs and their bodies slinked together, a throb of near orgasm rent inside her.

Jace’s hands cupped her breasts, squeezed, massaged, and flicked her nipples, making Claire gasp, close her eyes. Another throb went through her. Her good intentions about rushing warred with anxious need.

One more perfect press of his erection to her sex, and she might come undone. She knew it, couldn’t stop it, and didn’t really want to. Maybe Jace read her mind, or perhaps her body’s plea, because he quickly slipped a hand between Claire’s legs, simultaneously sucking her lower lip. He slid two long fingers into her aching heat.

Claire cried out as climax tore through her in rhythm with Jace’s strong, deep strokes into her core. Wave after wave jolted through her, and as she reached the topmost brink, he whispered. “Show me. Open your eyes, Claire.”

She opened her eyes and bared her soul to Jace in a moment so vulnerable, so pure, that she prayed it spoke the words that still came with difficulty.

I love you.

I need you.

Jace’s eyes filled with emotion, and more than a touch of arrogance. Yeah, he had a right to gloat. She’d never climaxed so fast or hard. Though her body quieted, it was by no means satisfied, though. She wanted more. With a sly smile, she nudged Jace in his back and began an oral assault. She traveled slowly down his navel, delving her tongue along each hip and down to his inner thighs. The way he watched her gave her a sense of heady power.

She could show off a bit, too.

She nibbled each inner thigh, sucking and licking her way upward, taking her time, enjoying Jace’s hips beckoning her forward. The tall shaft jerked as she drew closer, teasing her mouth away and back again.

Claire’s mouth watered. She swallowed. She wrapped her lips around the swollen tip. Jace groaned, his hands came to her face. He stopped her.

“Did I hurt you?”

“God no. I just don’t want this to end, and it will if you keep going.”

“Really?” she couldn’t help it. She was surprised and kind of impressed with herself.

“You have no idea how hot your lips are, do you?”

“Uh, no?”

He pulled her up and kissed her. “So hot.” He rolled her onto her back. “Your body, too. Better than any fantasy.”

“Which means you had a few?”

“About you?” He pulled her arms to lay wide and trailed his hands down her arms, drawing circles on her breasts. “All the time.”

“Even after?”

“Worse after. My brain kept trying to fill in the edges. To guess and wonder what I was missing.”

He frowned a little and came down to kiss her. Her cock pressed back to her core again. Claire stroked his face and opened her body to him. “I’m so sorry.”

He closed his eyes, his shoulders tensed and he put his forehead to hers. “So am I.”

She kissed his chin. He kissed her nose. He put his mouth on hers and pushed into her. Claire gasped at the fullness, the pleasure. At the sheer masculine power behind the stroke. He entered her like she was his. Like he was making a claim to her and the thrill that realization brought stunned her.

She wanted him to take her, to unleash his lust on her. Thrusting her hips and meeting his bedroom eyes dead on, she dared him to do it. To drive into her again and again. Jace’s eyes narrowed, but delight shone in them.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered.

His throaty voice did wild things to her. He slid out and back in, a little bit harder than before. In and out, he stroked. She met each with measure, never taking her eyes off his. That is until another climax clawed to the surface and pulled her under.

“Jace!” she cried out, a plea for him to keep thrusting, keeping diving his body into hers so that each new shattering wave could grip onto his hard flesh and crash in pleasure. He answered her wish and as her orgasm’s last quake hit, he sank into her.

Again and again, his cock throbbed. His head went back. A low, animallike grunt escaped his lips, and just like that, Claire was claimed.

Coming back down to earth didn’t hurt as much as she would have guessed after getting so high.

“I can feel your heart beating,” she said, placing her hand on his chest.

“Slamming,” Jace said, then laughed. “It’s slamming in my chest almost as hard as my body just was.”

Claire grinned so hard her cheeks hurt. She pressed a kiss to Jace’s cheek, and in doing so, rolled closer. She wanted to cling to him, and so, of course, she did the opposite and rolled back to give him space. Now was no time to be needy.

“Come back,” Jace whispered, far less breathless. “Come back to me.”

Claire obeyed, joy shooting down to her toes, making them wriggle.

All thoughts and worries eased away. Jace. His name felt like magic, like a talisman warding away the world, the past, the risks of life and what loving him here and now meant.

Light in the darkness. But the darkness was there, waiting. Oliver. Her parents. Being totally shut out. The whispers would follow her for weeks.

Jace wrapped his arms around her in a tight cocoon. Claire could hardly move to curl into him and she realized when Jace’s hands began to stroke her hair and his voice soothed a soft, “Shhh,” that tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“Shhh. Don’t be scared, Claire. Don’t be scared,” he said. “I’ll never hurt you. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Claire’s heart leapt and sank all at once, and all she could do was hold on. And never let go. Not ever, ever again.

~~

Chapter Seventeen

Jace lay, limbs entangled with Claire’s, and watched his bedroom walls wash from light to dark as the sun left the day. What now? He didn’t know how long they lay together, unmoving, as he listened to Claire’s breathing.

She’d cried. Jace wasn’t about to ask why. The only reason he could think of—that she regretted making love with him—made him sick. So he refused to let it sit in his brain longer than the moment it appeared. Surely, Claire’s tears came from joy, from love, and from being so utterly happy.

It
was
lovemaking. Like he always imagined. Like he had always yearned for, but couldn’t find anywhere else. His Claire.

He was pretty sure his Claire was making his arm fall asleep, too. But, he wasn’t willing to move and risk the euphoria enveloping him. He’d have to get up to empty his bladder soon. Just

. . . not yet.

His cell phone rang again from the living room, muffled and incessant.
Leave a message
, he silently ordered whoever was calling for the fourth time in at least an hour. If it was anything important, the person would call his house phone, too. Or leave a message.

Part of him nagged with worry that it might be Ashley. But, Ashley would call a lot more and call both phones, plus text, plus scream into the answering machine. The ringing ended, and Jace let out a breath. Claire hadn’t awakened.

He listened, amused over his lame outgoing message. Funny how different things were now compared to the day he’d recorded it. He’d just met Bels, had changed it in an attempt to sound ... something. Cool? Aloof?

Turned out, he hadn’t needed either.

Bels. God, he hated having hurt her. She was a good woman, too. He wished what he had now in this moment for Bels. She deserved a really good guy who could love her all the way.

The house phone rang. He’d let the machine get it. Probably his mom. Might be Ashley after all. The machine beeped. No dial tone, though. It was Tyler. And he sounded agitated. Shit. Jace’s gut pinched with guilt.
Tyler
. Letting Claire sleep wouldn’t keep reality away, after all. There was so much they had to talk about, decisions to be made, and questions to be answered.

No way was he going to let Claire leave without a plan. Not like last time. Tyler’s voice rose on the machine, and his stomach tightened further. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Tyler said he was on his way over.

Jace’s pulse triple-timed. Tyler couldn’t come here now. They needed time to strategize. Claire would definitely run without a plan in place. Hell, he might run himself. He eased out of Claire’s embrace, grateful that she didn’t wake up. Treading softly, he went to the kitchen, turned down the volume, and played the message.

“Jace, it’s me. Listen, I’m on my way over, so if you get this or any of the messages I left on your cell, stay put or get home. I know I’m freaking a bit, but I need to talk, and you’re the only one I can talk to. It’s about Claire. I’m ten minutes away.”
Beep
.

Jace stared at the phone. He grabbed his cell phone and called voice mail. Four new messages. As he listened, each one worse, Tyler talking faster about a dream he had and timing and muffled stuff, he became aware of his nudity. Even more so, of Claire’s.

He padded quickly, quietly back into his room and grabbed the first fistful of clothes he could find. Closing the bedroom door, he dressed in the kitchen, cell phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulder and listened again to each message—each relating different, increasingly panicked, versions of Tyler on the way.

He was coming. And he was in a panic over Claire. Jace’s mind raced with the horrible possibilities of what Tyler might have discovered, of what he might see. Had Tyler somehow found out about that night six years ago, or worse, about today, or last night?

What else could there be?

If he had, then Jace had some serious explaining to do, and having his brother’s lost love lying naked in his bed would nail the coffin lid shut. Claire had to get out of here.
Now
.

As the last message ended, he tossed his phone on the counter, zipped his jeans, half- wondering why they were so loose, and crept into his room.

He sat on the bed and shook Claire’s shoulder. God, he hated to do this. But he couldn’t exactly
not
answer the door, not with his car—shit, and Claire’s car—sitting right there in the driveway. Stupid idiot. He should have answered the phone.

“Claire,” he said. She looked so peaceful in sleep, features smoothed, mouth relaxed. “Claire, honey, you have to wake up. Tyler’s on his way.”

Awake, she always had a tenseness to her face, as if she was always anticipating stress.

“Claire,” he said, speaking and shaking more firmly.

“Hmmm?”

“You have to wake up. Tyler will be here any minute, and he’s worked up. Something about you.”

Claire’s eyes slammed open. “What about me?”

“I don’t know. I think he knows.”

She sat up, breasts bobbing, tantalizing. Jace scolded himself for noticing and dragged his eyes back up to Claire’s. They were wide with worry. “He knows?”

“I think so. I’m sorry to do this, but can you leave?” He touched her cheek, trying to soften the blow. “Now?”

Claire blanched a little. She half-nodded and half-shook her head. “Yeah. I mean, yes. Of course. Where are my clothes?”

“Here.” Jace shoved the pile to her and stood.

A hard knock on his front door, with the doorbell on its heels, proved that Tyler had arrived. “Shit! Double shit.”

“Alright. Don’t panic. Don’t assume, okay?” Claire zipped up her jeans. “For all you know, he found out where I’m registered for the wedding. Just act normal, let him in, we’ll say I ran into you at the mall, no, at the restaurant. Stick to the truth. And then I’ll say hello and goodbye.”

Jace nodded, feeling a touch less queasy. “We should tell him.”

“Not like this, Jace. Please?”

“You’re right. This looks like he busted us.” He looked at the door, looked at her. “Stay in the bedroom?”

“My car is in your driveway,” she said, her hands shaking as she smoothed her hair. “I can’t hide all night. I have to take care of things.”

Another loud knock. “Coming,” Jace called out, wincing, realizing that they’d made him wait and that it would only look worse. He was in the bathroom. That’s what he’d say. “I’ll get rid of him quick. Tell him I have to work. Okay? Please?”

Claire threw her hands up, but nodded. “Super quick.”

He kissed her and head to the door, opening it a little out of breath. “Sheesh, can a guy flush?”

Tyler stood there. His eyes were red rimmed, and his clothes were rumpled. Tyler gave Jace a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” he said, the weight of guilt and the sting of being caught amplifying. Claire was right. Not like this. Over lunch, over a beer, hell, in church, would be better than Tyler finding out like this. “Come in. What is it? What’s happened?”