Claire laughed, looking around us. “As much as I’m not bothered about my brothers seeing us holding hands or kissing, I draw a line at them catching us fucking like rabbits in a field.” She was still breathless and I resisted the urge to beat my chest in victory.
I nodded, keeping my hands where they were, slightly under her top, around the waist that was as tiny as I remembered. “How do you want to play this?” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“There are going to be questions about why we’ve gone from insulting each other to, well, this. As in as soon as we step into the house,” I said, her head now against my shoulder, one hand trailing up my leg. I was hard to the extent of being uncomfortable, my cock remembering exactly how it felt to be buried deep inside her and I wasn’t embarrassed about it. I wanted her to like the effect she had on me and relish in it like she used to.
“You’re right,” she said, her hand stopping at the top of my leg and squeezing. “We tell them the truth. That we were a couple at university and there are still feelings there.” She looked at me, worry in her eyes. “There are, aren’t there?”
I kissed her again, softer, sweeter than last time, tasting her mouth and the wine she’d drank. Her hand pressed against my hard cock and I felt her moan into my mouth. “Yes,” I said, pulling away. “But do you want to do that today? Or do we play it down while we have time to see where this goes?”
She sat up, late afternoon sun warming her face. “We need to play it down. They’re going to know we weren’t just having dinner as friends but, yeah, you’re right. We don’t know what this is.”
I kissed her again, quicker, less intense. “Slow,” I said as we broke apart. “Slowly. Although God knows I want to fuck you senseless and make you scream.” The final sentence was almost mumbled as I stood up, offering a hand to help her.
Claire ran her hands up my chest, one resting on my shoulder, the other ruffling my beard. “I need you to fuck me senseless. I think I could come if you just touched my clit even through my jeans my pussy is throbbing that much.”
My balls tightened at her words. She’d had a dirty mouth when she was younger, sparing no shame to tell me exactly how she felt and what she wanted me to do. My studious, clever girl was proud of her sensuality and had never been coy, even that first time. I smiled at her words. “Let’s not rush.”
“I know.”
We held hands and walked back together in silence, no words needed to communicate why we both knew we couldn’t dive head first into where we left off. There was too much at stake.
***
Killian
Dear Claire,
It’s been six weeks and four days since you’ve last spoken to me and I have no idea what I’ve done. I’ve gone through every second of the last few days we spent together and come up with exactly nothing. I haven’t cheated, I haven’t – as far as I know – done anything to disrespect you and I didn’t eat the last bar of chocolate that you’d stashed away even though I was tempted.
I fucking miss you.
In fact, I’m not sure I can leave you like I planned and go into the marines. It’s killed me being away from you and, even though we spoke about it, I’m not sure I can do it anymore. But then, common sense says that we’re too young to stay together and you need to do your degree and train to be a lawyer and I’d be a distraction from that. I want you to have the best, to be the best.
I’ve spoken to Max and asked him about you. He says you’ve been a bit weird, that you weren’t feeling too well and kept taking yourself off on your own. I wanted to storm straight over and find out what was wrong and try to make everything better, that’s why I tried phoning you fuck knows how many times in one evening, but I guess you don’t want to speak to me. And I don’t why – which is killing me.
My brother’s come home on leave and keeps asking why I’m so moody and don’t want to go out anywhere. I mentioned something about a girl when we were drinking whisky and he just laughed then asked how you were. I’m not going to lie to him if he asks me outright – he wouldn’t tell your brothers.
I don’t understand now why were so secret, why we thought it would bother them. I know Max and Jackson are protective but they would’ve known I wouldn’t have messed you around.
For fuck’s sake, I wish you’d speak to me. I need to know you’re okay.
Love you.
K.
Chapter Eight
Claire
The overwhelming emotion I felt as we walked into the kitchen of my parents was frustration. I had forgotten – kind of – exactly how my body responded to Killian. The slightest touch and I’d be wet, a command from his lips or the way he could move me to tell me what to do and I would be on the point of an orgasm without any form of physical stimulation. No other man had held a candle to him and it wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried. Over the years I hadn’t sought a relationship but I had sought sex, enjoying the therapy and the endorphins afterwards but nothing had come close to that part - yet.
“Did you have a nice meal?” Marie said, nine pairs of eyes on us straight away. Killian’s hand was on the small of my back and he showed no sign of wanting to put any distance between us. We weren’t going to have an all-out confession with my family but neither were we pretending that it was just friends.
“It was good. Busy, but the food was as good as I remembered.” I eyeballed Seph until he shifted off one of the sofas where he was taking up the room of two people and sat down, Killian sitting next to me. Max held my gaze for a moment, raising his eyebrows and there was a silence that was pregnant with unasked questions.
“How come no one’s headed back to the city yet?” I said, knowing damn well the answer.
