Page 22 of For Wrath and Redemption
“Thor tried to kill me.”
She shakes her head and nudges my body with the toe of her shoe. “Suck it up. We’ve got a full day before you have to be at the stadium.”
I groan and sit up, dropping my head between my knees. She’s a sadist.
Awesome.
“Here’s what I’ve got planned for Sweden. We’ll go over Lisbon when we get there.”
Claire drops a tablet on the couch beside me. I collapsed here the moment we walked into the room, and she’s wasting no time.
“Look it over while I shower.”
When she disappears into the bathroom, I shove the tablet away from me. It falls onto the ground, and I make no move to pick it up. Theshower kicks on a minute later, and I close my eyes. The sound is soothing, and the image of her naked under the water...
Fuck.
I reach down and squeeze my dick through my shorts. I feel like I’ve been half hard since yesterday. That, paired with the ass-kicking Thor gave me, is making my head ache.
I need a joint or a drink. I need something harder. I need to get laid.
I clamp my eyes shut against the craving and tighten my fingers around my dick. Then I stroke. The shower is still on, so I shove my hand into my shorts.
Images of Claire in the shower, soaped up and washing herself, flash through my head. I imagine myself in there with her. I’ve got her pinned to the wall, both of us panting and surrounded by steam. I squeeze my dick and pretend it’s her neck. I imagine her moaning, mouth open and pupils wide. It’s so real, I can almost hear it. I can almost feel the vibrations from her throat on my palm. I stroke myself faster. Imagine sliding between her wet thighs. Pushing the head of my cock through?—
“What the actual fuck are you doing?”
My body tenses in surprise, my muscles already aching from Thor’s torture workout, and then I relax. I turn my head toward Claire. She’s shocked and staring at my crotch. Now I’m mad I hadn’t taken my dick out of my shorts. I arch a brow.
“It’s not obvious? I’m trying to jerk off.”
I start to stroke myself again, running my eyes over her. Her hair is in a towel, and she’s clothed in another pencil skirt and button-down blouse ensemble. I never thought business attire would do it for me, but surprisingly, it does.
“Actually, Davis, stay right there...”
Her brows slant, and she glowers. “I’ll be ready in fifteen. I’m sure it won’t take that long to fuck your hand.” She smiles. “Carry on.”
When she closes the bathroom door, my erection starts to disappear, and I sigh. I’m not horny anymore. Being dismissed with my hard dick in my fist apparently fucks with my confidence.
Pissed, I take my hand out of my shorts and wait, watching the clock like a good boy. I sit idly on the couch until the blow-dryer cuts off exactly fifteen minutes later. Then I head into the bedroom to grab some clothes. I have every intention of kicking Claire out of the bathroom so Ican shower, but when I approach the door, I find it cracked, and her whispered voice is filtering through the opening.
I can only make out a few words, but her tone is sweet. Sweeter than she’s used with me. It’s not how you’d speak with a family member or friend. It’s how you’d speak to a lover. When she saysI miss you, I frown. Then she giggles, and the surge of jealousy I feel surprises me. The giggle is melodic, tinkling like little bells, and I want to punch the person who drew it out of her.
Instead of knocking, I shove the door open and lean on the frame. She jumps, whipping her head in my direction with a scowl.
“I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll call you soon.”
She’s talking into the phone, but she’s glaring at me. Her lover says something, a deep hum coming from the other end of the phone, and she smiles as she says goodbye. A cute smile. An attractive smile. Not at all like the snarky smiles she’s been giving me.
She puts the phone on the counter and attacks.
“Ever heard of knocking?” She crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “You don’t just barge into the bathroom on someone.”
“Sorry,” I say flatly. I’m not sorry. “Boyfriend?”
“None of your business.”
I drop my attention to her left hand. “No wedding band. No engagement ring. The voice sounded pretty deep, so I’m guessing male.” I look back at her face. “You don’t giggle like that for a grandfather or a sibling.”
