“I’m not bad in bed.” My intention is to reassure her, but my tone makes me sound like an ego-crushed college kid.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure that’s what the others thought too.”
Excitement flares in my veins. Claire’s had only a small taste of my competitive side. It’s a Greer family curse. Even Bea is competitive. I get off on proving people wrong, and I never back away from a challenge.
Leaning forward, I clasp Claire’s chin between my thumb and forefinger. “I can prove it.”
15
Claire
“Is that so?”I lick my lips on instinct.
His eyes dart to my mouth. Then, without a word, he sweeps me off the sofa.
I yelp in surprise as my world tilts.
“Shh,” he reprimands as he adjusts me so my legs are looped around him. “You’ll wake up Bea before I’ve had a chance to prove how good I can make you feel.”
My thighs clench around his waist, an ache already forming in my core.
He carries me to my room and quietly closes and locks the door behind us with one hand, then eases me onto my bed. His pupils nearly eclipse his irises as he hovers over me. He looks feral. His ’stache is giving “I’m here to eat your kitty” vibes.
I’m so fucking ready for it.
Wrapping my legs around him again, I pull him in so his chest is flush against mine. And that’s when I get another sample of what we’re working with.
When he grinds against my core, my lips part and heswallows my gasp with his mouth. His tongue claims dominance over mine, the way he takes control only fanning the flames inside me.
Eyes closed,I undulate my hips, luxuriating in his hardness. Fuck, this friction feels nice.
He releases our kiss, resting his forehead on mine. “Shit. Claire. I’m gonna come in my pants if you don’t stop.”
“Fuck, that’s hot,” I breathe. And I mean it.
“What? Me jizzing in my pants like a fucking teenager?”
I nod.
“You’re weird.” He chuckles.
“Not weird. Just horny.”
With my lips on his again, I grind into him harder. Just as I’m about to slip my hand into his joggers, he slides down my body and tucks his fingers under my waistband.
“May I?”
“Please.” I don’t mean for it to sound so desperate, but here we are.
He smirks. “So well-mannered.”
“I could say the same about you,” I tease.
“Would you rather I be less polite?”
A breathy “yes” has barely left my lips before he’s yanking my pants and underwear off in one fell swoop and tossing them onto the floor.
I scoot up so my head rests against a pillow, knees bent, my feet blocking what he wants.
