Page 29 of Nutcracker with Benefits
“We had that thing in Tokyo we went to.”
She tilts her head. “That was a work conference for you, and I was already in Japan.”
“But I had fun.”
There’s a pregnant pause, and Clara waits expectantly.
“All right,” I admit. “I’ve never traveled for fun.”
I expect Clara to say something encouraging, or suggest a trip together, but instead she smiles at me and shrugs casually. “It’s a lifestyle not for everyone. I get that. But you’ve obviously shown me what amazing opportunities New York has.” She gestures to the table. “This has been a very flavorful day.”
She winks, and our empty soup bowls are swept up, and the next dish introduced: pig knuckles with pickled ginger and half a hardboiled egg.
It’s not until we’re drinking after-dinner tea—our sixth course, ginger and rice tea—when Clara shifts our conversation back to the day we’ve had.
“Is there another activity on the agenda? Dessert? Evening stroll? Flash mob dancing?”
I pull out my phone, texting our driver. “There is one thing on the menu,” I tell her. “You.”
“Finally,” she teases.
“What do you mean, finally?” I lean in close to her. “You’re not the one who’s been sitting here thinking about how you said I was the second-best thing you’ve ever put in your mouth or about how I made you come on my hand just hours ago.”
Clara visibly shivers, her eyes fluttering. They pop open, and she glances around. “Check, please!”
I laugh and put my napkin on the table. “It’s taken care of. Let’s go.” I offer her my hand, and we twine our fingers together as I lead her back to the elevator and out to the car.
Clara sits close to me as the car pulls away from the curb, and my gaze falls to the dress she’s wearing. With each pass of a streetlight, she sparkles. I part the lapels of her coat, the faux fur soft on my skin. She hums while my finger traces the geometric lace that starts at her left collarbone and swoops between her breasts and ends at her right hip.
“Kara did well, didn’t she?” Clara murmurs.
“She’s the best,” I say. Unlike earlier in the changing room, Clara’s languid, her eyes half closed as I press my lips against her neck. I can’t decide which Clara I like more; the needy and urgent one who wants me so desperately or the one who’s soft and simmering. Thank god I never have to choose.
She shifts, lifting her legs to my lap and her coat falls open further. I nip at her skin, making her gasp, and slide a hand to cup her breast.
The anticipation is the best part, and when I think about what I want to do to her—all the fantastic things we’ve done together in the past and things we’ve never done together before—I realize that tonight, despite all the planning that went into the entire day and yes, even the planning that went into tonight, I want to make love to Clara. Not just have sex but show her how I feel.
Her nipple is stiff under the silk, pebbling as I pinch it. “Nash,” she whispers, and I find her mouth, open and panting, and kiss her bottom lip, that plump and soft pillow. Clara tries to kiss me back, but I pull away. “Nash,” she says again, but this time on a whine.
The car rolls to a stop, and I glance up. We’re outside my apartment, and I smile down at her. “We’re here. Come on, baby.”
I thank the driver and help Clara out of the car. The cold nips at us during the few steps into the building, where I wave at the doorman and the elevator waits for us.
Clara wraps her hands around my waist and tugs me down to meet her as the doors close. Our kisses are slow and deliciously sensual.
Once we’re inside my bedroom, I take two steps away from Clara and switch the bedside light on. “That’s a nice dress; let me take it off you.”
“In case I wear it again?” She laughs like it’s a joke, but I hope someday that she will. Clara spins slowly so her back is to me. The zipper isn’t hidden, the silver metal flashing in the soft lights of my room. Her hair is still up in the bun, so I kiss the back of her neck and lazily slide the tab down, my lips chasing my fingers.
By the time her underwear is revealed, a tiny black G-string, I’m on my knees. I’ve kissed every vertebra down to the thin fabric, and Clara shivers as the dress falls. “Stay right there,” I whisper into her skin, and rise to my feet. Clara’s facing the big window, so I strip quickly behind her and reach for the nightstand. I do have an ace in my back pocket that I’ve been looking forward to using all night.
When the drawer slides open, Clara calls out, “Nash?”
I pause, looking back at her. The soft glow of the light on her back is really fucking sexy.
She glances back at me. “I haven’t…you know I haven’t been with anyone since I was last with you, right?”
It takes me a moment to get what she’s saying. “I’m not getting condoms,” I clarify.
