And the worst part? I want more. I wantso much more. I want his hands everywhere, his mouth everywhere, I want to know what it feels like to have him inside me?—
What did I just do?
6
Claire
Water rains down over me as I stand in the shower. I fled here right after what happened in the kitchen.
I’m not sure if it was shame or embarrassment that sent me running, but something did. It’s wild to know I just did that with a guy I hardly know. It’s so unlike me.
But I’m not filled with regret. Not exactly. I don’t know what I’m filled with. Everything is spinning at a million miles per minute, and I can hardly keep a single thought straight.
My skin is still tingling. Even as I wash, the sensations of Alec’s touches ghost over me. They haunt me. They’re all I can think about.
I know I can’t stay in the shower forever. But I’m nervous to face Alec again. I don’t know what to say.
He’s supposed to be here to protect me, and I’m truly glad for that, but what does that mean for us?
Come on, Claire. Keep your head on straight. He’s here because of the Theodore situation. I don’t think he’s interested in a relationship, so maybe don’t get your hopes up.
I surprise myself with my own thoughts. My hopes were up? I didn’t think they were, but that’s telling, isn’t it?
I want something with him. Being around Alec makes me feel comfortable and at ease, even though he’s still one of the scariest men I’ve ever met. But he’s nice to me in a way that people usually aren’t. Especially men.
I finish up, wrap a towel around my hair and another around my body, and go through my usual routine at the sink. The mirror is fogged over. I swipe my hand across the glass and make eye contact with myself.
Who even are you? You just let some guy you’ve known for less than twenty-four hours eat you out in your kitchen.
Who does that? I certainly don’t.
But even just thinking about it has my whole body warming again. I can’t deny that I loved every second.
I’malwaysso careful. Always so closed off. It feels kind of nice to do something for myself. Well. To allow someone else to do somethingforme.
I don’t really enjoy taking orders from other people. Except apparently him. I wonder what that says about me.
My hand is on the doorknob when I hear something out in the other room. A heavy thud. I cock my head, brow furrowing, and pull the door open slowly so the hinges don’t creak. Everything in this townhouse creaks.
Stepping out into the hall, I tentatively call out. “What’s going on? Everything okay out there?”
No response.
Nervousness trickles down my spine. After what happened the other day—when Alec barged in here and I learned there are people on my trail—I can’t help feeling paranoid.
I take a couple more steps into the other room, and there it is again. That thud. But this time, it’s louder. And there are two of them.
When I step out past my bedroom to get a better look, I stop dead in the middle of the hallway, my eyes going wide.
Two men are fighting in my living room. Alec is one of them. I have no idea who the other guy is. They’re punching and weaving and ducking around each other in a mad tangle of limbs that looks more like a blur than anything else.
“Oh my god, Alec! What’s happening?”
Obviously, he can’t answer. I don’t know why I bothered calling out.
It must be somebody Theodore sent. The guy looks too put together to be some random thug off the street. Plus, this is a fairly decent neighborhood, all things considered.
They scuffle through the living room, bumping into furniture and walls. Things are breaking left and right. I can’t stop myself from screaming as more glass shatters in a few moments than I’m used to hearing in a year.
