“You got it.” She hangs up, but not before crunching even louder one last time in my ear, definitely on purpose.
I go to my closet and pull out my dress. All Jay told me was that we were going to dinner. Technically that could be at Taco Bell for all I know, but I decided to get at least one more wear out of this dress anyway. If it is Taco Bell then, yo quiero…still wear this dress.
I first bought it for the end-of-the-year banquet at Jefferson. Silly me thought I could use it as my annual celebratory dress.
Turns out I can, just only one time.
It’s a deep red satin, and sleeveless, falling just above my knee. It’s classy, especially when paired with a cardigan and flats, which is what I did for work, but on its own, or matched with metallic gold heels and dangly earrings, it can be elevated to look way more sexy — which is how I’m wearing it now.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I don’t clean up half bad. Sure, I could probably afford to trim off some dead ends, and the dress hugs my runner’s thighs a little too tightly, but overall, I’d say, not too shabby.
I am transferring my cell phone, ID, and credit card, to my gold-beaded clutch, when I hear a knock at the door. Glancing at the time again, I see it’s 7:00 pm on the dot.
“Come in!” I call as I shove lip gloss and a pack of gum into my purse just in case.
I’m walking through my bedroom door, struggling with the snap of the clutch when I hear the door click open. Looking up from this purse, which is totally fighting back, I see Jay, in an open blazer, absolutely drenched. Which of those two things surprises me more? I’m not sure.
I drop my purse on the loveseat and pull my hand to my mouth. “Oh my God,” I say, the words muffled by my palm.
“It’s raining.” He says bluntly.
“I see that.” I walk towards where he stands in my doorway, dripping from head to toe. Detouring to the hall closet, I pull out a towel. I hand it to him as he steps aside so I can close the door behind him, and he immediately brings it to his hair, droplets spraying every which way from the short bristles of his cut. As he drags the towel down his face, he pauses, still covering the lower half. He stares at me, drinking me in. The towel slowly falls as he starts to speak.
“Claire, you look incredible.”
I feel myself grow warm from both his stare and the compliment.
“Incredibly…dry?” I try lightening the mood because I’m nervous already, and the way that he so easily shuts down all of my insecurities, only makes it worse.
“No,” he says instantly. “I had it right the first time.” He looks down at his completely soaked body. “But also, yes.”
I smile and take the opportunity to look him up and down myself. He’s in jeans and Vans, which I’ve seen before, but damn. Jay in a white shirt and blazer is a whole different look. His button-up is wet down the middle where his blazer fell open in the storm and the fabric clings to his muscles underneath in the best possible way. He has his jacket sleeves pushed up so his forearms show, his tattoos glistening on his damp skin, and the way it hugs his biceps is intoxicating.
He looks so good. Uncomfortable honestly, but so freaking sexy.
He catches me checking him out and the corner of his lips turn up. I snap out of my Jay-induced haze just long enough to reach for his jacket.
“Here, let me help you take this off.” I wince at how that sounds. “I mean let's get you out of these clothes.”Much better.“Just…here."
I pull each flap over his shoulder as he shrugs out of the sleeves. Laying the jacket carefully over the island to dry, I turn back to the mouth-watering picture that is Jay in a wet, white, button-down shirt. IfI thought the sliver of exposed fabric was sexy before, getting the full picture is in another league.
We both look at each other with a mixture of attraction and hesitance, the mood in the room suddenly heavy. I walk over to him, unable to fight the pull I feel and place my hands on his damp chest. Moving my fingers to his first button, I pause.
“Do you want to let this dry a little before we leave?” My voice comes out huskier than intended.
He looks down at me, not quite his height in these heels, his hazel eyes wide from the angle.
“Okay,” is all he says.
I undo the button, my hands trembling just enough that I can feel it but there’s no visible movement. His shirt falls open slightly more after it comes undone, the lines of his chest muscles greeting me on either side.
I move my hands to the second button, and Jay lets out a heavy breath. Peering up at him, I see he’s not looking at his shirt at all, but staring directly at me. I fumble with the button, eventually undoing it, my chest practically touching his now bare skin with every heaving breath.
Unconsciously, I move closer to him, my thighs skimming his, so I can feel his wet jeans through the fabric of my dress. I slide my hands down over the peaks of his muscles. He sucks in a sharp breath as goosebumps cover his flesh, and just seeing his reaction to my touch, makes the spot between my thighs come alive.
Trailing my palms down to where his shirt still sits closed, I move to the final button. I feel him harden between us as I pinch my fingers around the clear, white, plastic at the same time that Jay rips it open. He drops his shirt and grabs my face in one swift motion, pulling my lips to his. As if on cue, I move my hands to his hair and pull on the back of his head to deepen our embrace. It’s wet and messy, now matching our clothes, and all I can seem to think ismore.More touching, more kissing, more clothes on the ground.
With our mouths still interlocked, I reach for his collar, pulling his shirt off of his shoulders in the same way I did with his jacket, only this time, I throw it right to the floor. With his upper half fully exposed, I run my hands down his arms, feeling the flex and release of his muscles as he moves his hands, first to my waist and then lower behind me. We’re both eagerly exploring, frantic to pull our bodies even closer together.
