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She grips my hand, holding it in place, not shoving it away. “Why?”
The elevator stops, and I twist my hand to take hers, guiding her out to the hallway and toward our room. “Come on. You? You’re high-maintenance, yeah, but I thought someone like you would be a hit wherever you went. Life of the party.”
“Me?” she retorts.
“Yeah, you. You’re beautiful and funny. Young and adventurous.” I pause in my praises and glance at her as I wait for the door to open from the key card activation.
Her cheeks are rosy again, and this time, without the exercise of dancing or laughing, I know that pretty hue is a blush of embarrassment, not an exertion of energy.
“Well, yeah, I’m young, but…” As she steps into the suite with me, she clams up further, frowning and stammering over what she struggles to say. “I’m not funny. Sarcastic, sure. But humorous? I doubt it.”
I wheel around and close the door behind her, rolling my eyes at how quickly she resorts to self-deprecating thoughts.
“And I wouldn’t say I’m adventurous at all. I prefer to hide, not face anything intimidating.”
I turn toward her, sliding my arm around her back at the same time I use two fingers to take her chin and tip it up toward me. She’s so short that I have to dip my head down to see her fully.
“Claire, that’s bullshit, too.”
She scoffs. “You can’t tell me what I am. I know myself and—”
I sigh, brushing my thumb against her lower lip to silence her. “You’re gorgeous. And hilarious when you want to be. And you damn well are adventurous. You showed me how all night.”
“But I’m—”
I lift my thumb up to press against her lower lip again. “And you have faced plenty of intimidating things. Like this.” I step closer, letting her see the desire on my face. “This chemistry between us. It’s driving me crazy, but you’re not running away from it either.”
Yet. I don’t want to think she will.
She swallows and draws a deep breath, lifting her soulful gaze of want to lock on me.
“I’ll teach you how to accept a compliment, Claire. But right now, I’d rather show you how wrong you are about yourself.”
Before I think twice, I lower my face to hers and cover her lips with mine, kissing her soundly.
Chapter 17
Claire
The moment Sawyer’s mouth crashes over mine, I hold my breath and pray this isn’t another dream. This whole night has felt like an otherworldly experience. I haven’t been myself. The woman I normally am would not behave like this. She doesn’t drink beer at common bars and dance barefoot with strangers on crowded, dirty floors. She doesn’t let loose and enjoy the simplicity of music and a hot man’s company.
The woman I’m expected to be is a refined, proper, and distinguished one, set apart from all the other women in the world, with manners and decorum.
It’s certainly not this wanton example I’m showing Sawyer, clinging to him and kissing him back just as hard. This isn’t who I’m supposed to be, but under his heated stare and exposed to his warm body, I can’t help it. I can’t even think about putting a stop to it or protesting his firm yet soft lips sealing over mine.
And I don’t.
I’m not sure who I am in this moment, but I know that I want to follow his lead. I can only go with his direction and hope he—or this lapse in my judgment—doesn’t hurt me in the end. The mere thought of saying no thanks or resisting this attraction that’s been sizzling between us all night is abominable.
All I want to do, all I can do, is trust that he’ll help me through this sexual panic. That he’ll give me what I want without needing me to request anything. He can see it. He has to feel it in my touch and my kiss. If he’s oblivious to how badly and desperately I need his mouth on mine and his hands gripping me tight, I’ll go insane.
If he can’t understand how much I need him but can’t make myself vulnerable to ask or beg, I don’t know what I’ll do.
He breaks the kiss, parting from me with inches hanging between our parted lips.
“You’re wrong,” he repeats. “You are a beautiful, brave woman, Claire.”
His words hit me hard, and I want to believe each one. I tip my face up to his, eager for more.
