Page 81 of Let It Breathe
And with his mind reeling with lust and desire and the warm, sweet smell of her, he could only manage one word: “Okay.”
Chapter 11
Reese had no idea what came over her. One minute she was attempting a sincere apology, steeped in worry about how she’d been treating Clay and whether Larissa’s drinking was something to fret about.
The next minute she was so dizzy with lust she tripped over her own bare feet as she dragged him toward her bedroom. She locked the door behind them and turned to face Clay.
Her body buzzed with desire, and a million crazy justifications whirled through her head.
It’s okay, he’s a friend.
It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just sex.
It’s not like we haven’t done this before.
“What?” Clay murmured, and Reese realized she’d spoken her last thought aloud.
“Nothing,” she said, and tugged at the hem of his T-shirt, trying to pull it over his head. He let go of her long enough to yank his arms free of the warm cotton, and then he was standing there in front of her, naked to the waist.
“My God,” she whispered and dragged her fingers down his chest.
Clay groaned low in the back of his throat, but his hands stayed at his sides. It was like he was suddenly afraid to touch her now that they were in a dark room with a bed and desire so thick she could see it in the air between them. Reese hooked her fingers under his belt and looked up at him. He wasn’t meeting her eyes.
“What?” she asked.
He looked down at her. “You—I’m just—It’s just—” He took a breath. “If you need to stop, now’s the time.”
She tilted her head to the side, a little incredulous. “Stop? Why would I want to stop?”
Clay closed his eyes for a second, and Reese watched his hands ball into fists at his sides. She saw him clench and unclench his jaw.
“Do you want to stop?” she asked. “I didn’t mean to drag you in here like?—”
“No!” he said, his eyes wide as his hands came up to cup her arms just above the elbows. “No, I don’t want to stop. But once we cross that line?—”
Reese stood on tiptoe to kiss him, stopping his words with her lips. She pressed her body harder against him, her tongue finding his, her fingers sliding up and over the taut muscles of his back to pull him closer. His hands stayed on her elbows for a few more beats, then slowly slid down her rib cage and nestled around her waist.
Reese stopped kissing him long enough to look him in the eyes. “The line’s already been crossed, wouldn’t you say?”
Clay blinked down at her, seeming not to hear her words. He held her like that for a second, his breath coming fast, his pupils dilated. Then he slid his hands down over her ass and touched the hem of her dress. He hesitated there, his eyes fixed on hers.
“Want me to take it off?” Reese asked, not bothering to wait for a response. She let go of him and reached down to tug the dress over her head, trying to remember the sexiest way to do this. It had been so long. She crossed her arms and grabbed the hem, her arms making a natural X, crossing and uncrossing beneath the fabric.
Then she was standing there in just her bra and panties, suddenly self-conscious. She shivered.
Hell, it’s not like he hasn’t seen it before.
True, everything was a decade older, and gravity had wreaked havoc on a few things, but overall, she knew she still looked pretty good. She stood up a little straighter, wondering if she should have left her high-heeled boots on.
“Beautiful,” he said in a strangled voice, one hand coming up to brush the strap of her bra. “You’re so beautiful.”
Reese smiled a little shyly. “Blue satin,” she said. “Not like the black lace the other night. The front clasp that wasn’t meant to be, but?—”
She didn’t get a chance to finish whatever inane thing she’d been about to say. His mouth found hers again, and then there was no talking at all. Reese went up on tiptoe, wishing again she’d kept the boots on. He was so tall, so big. Her hands slid over his biceps, marveling at the size of him. She remembered something, drew back. In the dimness of her night-light, she peered at his skin.
“Your tattoo,” she whispered. “What does it say?”
“Not important,” he said, and kissed her again.
