Page 97 of Let It Breathe
He held her wrist again as he dabbed a bit of ointment onto the injured finger. Reaching for a Band-Aid, he fumbled with the wrapper before securing it in place. He planted a kiss on the tip of her finger and smiled at her again.
“All better?”
“Almost,” she whispered as he bent to kiss her.
Clay’s hands slid up under her flannel shirt, finding her breasts through the thin fabric of the T-shirt she wore beneath. Reese gasped as his thumbs circled her nipples, her throbbing finger all but forgotten.
She felt the slightest prick of guilt for feeling so good right now with everything going to hell back at the vineyard, but she promptly pushed the thought from her mind.
I deserve to feel good, just for a minute.
She kissed him harder and pressed her fingers into his back, feeling the firm flex of muscle through his shirt.
The humid chill of the room settled over them, with the faint smell of damp soil and old grapes. Reese breathed it in, savoring the sawdust smell of Clay, too. His hands roamed hot and eager as they slid under her T-shirt and Reese moved against them, loving the deftness of his fingers against her bare skin. He slid his palms up, and Reese went dizzy as he stroked her breasts through the thin lace of her bra.
She tightened her legs around him, pinning him against her. His hardness strained against the fly of his jeans.
“God, Reese,” he murmured against her throat. “You feel so good.”
“Don’t stop.”
“Never.”
His mouth traveled over the warm flesh of her throat, and Reese went dizzy as she tilted her head back to give him better access. Her eyes focused for a split second on the wedding photo of Sheila and Eric atop a file cabinet, and Reese wondered if Clay had noticed.
“Hello?”
Somewhere in the barn, a door creaked. They jerked apart like they’d been doused by cold water. Clay’s watch caught on Reese’s shirt, and he fought like a trapped animal to free it.
“Hello?” the voice called again.
Clay moved away from her, his hand free, his face frozen in terror.
Eric? he mouthed.
Reese shook her head and jumped off the counter, tugging her shirt down as she moved toward the door.
“Dad? Hey, we’re back here.”
She stepped into the open area of the barn, daring a glance over her shoulder at Clay. He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes had locked on the wedding photo, and a guilty look shadowed his face.
Reese grabbed his hand and jerked him forward just as her dad rounded the corner.
“Hey, honey,” he called. “I finished with the insurance guy, and Eric said you might need help out here. What’d you do to your finger?”
Reese held up the bandaged digit and shrugged. “Just a little cut, it’s no big deal. Clay got me fixed up.”
Her dad smiled at Clay, his expression suggesting he knew damn well they’d been doing more than playing doctor. “Good job, son.”
“Sir,” Clay said stiffly. “We’ve got most of the bottles loaded, but there are a few more boxes on those pallets over there.”
“Let’s get to them, then.”
Reese watched as the two of them retreated to the other side of the barn. She flicked off the light in the office, not taking her eyes off the pair as they chatted about bicycle tours and the new brewery opening in Newberg. Clay’s cheeks stayed flushed, but he seemed to have regained his composure.
As if sensing her eyes on him, he looked up and caught her eye. She smiled.
He gave her a wink that shot straight to her core, then bent to grab the next box.
