Her eyelids grow heavy as she licks her lips and hooks a finger in my belt loop, and I take it as an open invitation to bring my mouth down to hers. But my heart rate skyrockets so quickly that I’m afraid I might lose consciousness, and I have to pause less than an inch away from her as I struggle to catch my breath.
She whimpers as she waits for me to close in that last bit of space, and the sound of it nearly does me in. With a sharp inhale, I slip my hand around her neck and pull her in to meet me, my boldness taking me by surprise again. My doubt is short-lived, though. As soon as my nerve endings catch up to what’s happening, I’m a goner.
Claire parts her lips for me, drawing my tongue into her mouth and making me groan. She tastes even better than I imagined.My fingers twist into her hair, and my free hand moves around to cup her lower back, bracing her as I press my body into hers. The contact sends a jolt of pleasure through me. It’s all so overwhelming, the combination of heat and need forming something new, something delicious and addicting, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
I may have kissed my share of women in my search forthe one, but I’ve never felt so ravenous and greedy at the same time, not even in the confines of my more serious relationships. I’ve also never been compelled to make out on the self-checkout counter before, but I’m going to chalk that up to the medicine-induced brain fog.
Then Claire scoots closer and moans into my mouth, and Icouldn’t care less what makes this so different, only that I don’t want it to end. It’s too bad a loud beep resounds from behind her a second later, making us both flinch.
We pull apart reluctantly, and she winces again when the register chimes and politely reminds us to bag the last scanned item. I glance over to find a small box sitting on the glass.
“What in the …” I mumble, turning the unfamiliar package over in my hands.
Claire snorts. “The better question ishowdid a box of condoms get here?”
My stomach hits the floor just before the box does. She giggles when I fumble to pick it up, and I hope she blames the awkwardness on my nerves in general and not on the fact that I’ve never had a use for condoms before.
I clear my throat, and my head feels thick as I watch her pluck the box from my hands and deposit it within the bag. Then she twists around to add the other items to our haul.
“You’re paying, right, Doc?” she asks, casting a flirty smirk my way. It takes me a few seconds to catch up, and I scramble to get my credit card out of my wallet. I complete the transaction in a daze, turning to hoist Claire onto my back again. She drops her shoes into the plastic bag before she crosses her arms over my chest, and I choke back a laugh at the irony of her dangling a box of condoms in front of me like a carrot on a stick.
The old man from earlier catches my eye as I begin tracking toward the door, and he shoots me a conspiratorial wink. I force a smile, but I’m honestly more annoyed than grateful.
There’s a reason I’ve never had sex before, and it’s not because I couldn’t find anyone willing to sleep with me. I’ve been purposefully saving that level of intimacy for one person, because once I give myself away, I don’t plan on holding anything back. If she wants my body, she’s also going to have to accept my soul, my unconditional love, my flaws, my past, my hopes and dreams, and my fertility. It’s one of the main reasons waiting until marriage has always been such a big deal to me—not simply because of the religious implications or the moralityof it all, but because it’s the most logical way to combat any self-serving tendencies within a relationship.
I bite my lip and tighten my hold on Claire’s thighs as I trudge on, my mind still reeling from that kiss. For the first time in my life, I could see myself being somewhat amendable to the rules. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to throw out everything I’ve ever stood for to sleep with a virtual stranger, even if she were willing, but …
I’m not.
I’m not,I tell myself more sternly.
But if this were the start of something real, if Claire and I were to begin dating after tonight, I can’t imagine how difficult it would be to regulate this kind of attraction. Seeing her all the time, listening to her sexy banter—the temptation would be downright unbearable.
I just wish I understood the purpose of all this. Where am I meant to go from here? How is meeting someone like her supposed to change me for the better or help me grow as a person? Or is this simply an exercise in self-regulation and an opportunity to harden my resolve to remain chaste?
Well, my resolve is rock hard at the moment.
I huff, scolding myself for the crude thoughts, and the answer becomes obvious. Claire may have literally saved me tonight, but I’m certain I’m the one who’s meant to have a positive influence on her. Since I’m apparently the more morally conscious of the two of us, it must be up to me to introduce her to a better lifestyle, one in which she doesn’t feel the need to throw herself at a man she barely knows to earn his love.
Claire sighs and rests her chin on my shoulder, and I frown once I realize I’m basing that conclusion on some pretty hefty assumptions. Judging her this way feels like the worst thing I’ve done tonight—and I’ve been on a roll. Suddenly, I’m more disgusted with myself over these thoughts than the impure ones I’ve been harboring for the past couple of hours.
She shifts uncomfortably behind me after a while. “Hey, you feeling all right?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I fib, forcing a smile. “Maybe just alittle drowsy.”
“You don’t have to carry me, you know,” she says quickly.
“But then who’s gonna reach the rest of my back hives?” My smile grows more genuine when she laughs and scratches at the splotchy skin beneath my collar, and I think maybe I’m just meant to enjoy her company for a while. Maybe this night with Claire is simply a reprieve from a lifetime of loneliness.
I march on toward the hotel, resolving to exercise the self-restraint I know I possess and still savor her attention while I can.
CHAPTER SEVEN
claire
“CanI bring you up to your room?” Rowan asks, and I’m grateful for the blast of warm air as we enter the hotel’s main lobby. “So I can make sure you get there safely, I mean,” he adds quickly.
“Yes, but you don’t have to carry me all the way there,” I remind him.
