Page 37 of Every Time We Touch

I suck Clancy’s wetness off my fingers while my blood beats heavy in my veins. Marcy was right about one thing: I haven’t felt like this in a long time. I want Clancy with a ferocity that’s alien to me. If I were to look in a mirror right now, I wouldn’t recognize myself. Because this is not something I do. I must be a woman possessed. There’s no other explanation.

Clancy pulls me in for a kiss. There are many clues that she feels exactly the same as I do—full of unstoppable, reckless need. The speed with which she texted me back but, even more so, how fast she came for me. My skin buzzes. My clit thumps wildly between my legs. I want her so much that it scares me a little because I’m not sure what it will do to me—and how I can recover.

I kiss her as the tension in my body revs up a few more gears. I breathe heavily into Clancy’s mouth while my clit rages against the constraints of my underwear. My fingers inside of Clancy is not the only dream I’ve been dreaming. Her tongue all over me is also high on my wish list.

Clancy kisses a moist path from my lips to my ear. “I have a bedroom, you know,” she whispers. I can feel her lips stretch into a smile against the sensitive skin of my neck.

Waiting until we were in bed before slipping my fingers inside her never even crossed my mind. But fuck, I need to see more of her now. I’ve been ogling her body for too long—although, truth be told, with my dance lessons abruptly cut short as they were, in real time, it hasn’t been that long at all. But that’s what this kind of lust does to your brain. It stretches time into its own kind of torture.

I nod and make way for her. She takes my hand and leads us in into her half-lit bedroom. Before I tear her clothes off, I rake my gaze over her one last time—over her warm, golden skin and how, even when she’s just standing there, she has this innate dancer’s confidence about her. My eyes linger on the spot on her shoulder where I held on to her when we danced. On her gorgeously curved arms that brim with strength, toned from years of control and precision, built to guide, to hold, to make someone else move exactly the way she wants them to. Her face with those deep, dark eyes fixed on me and that slightly dangerous smile playing on her lips.

But then I need to see more of her—all of her. She must be thinking the same because she comes for me, like she did when she first let me into her apartment. She yanks at my blouse but instead of pulling me to her, she undoes a few buttons, her fingers fumbling until she can’t take it anymore, and just hoists it over my head.

As much as I want to slide her top off her slowly, revealing the skin of her belly inch by inch, watching her expression shift as I uncover her, I don’t have that kind of patience right now. My clit pulses too furiously between my legs and I can’t wait much longer for my ultimate dream to come true. I pull her top over her head and reach for the clasp of her bra immediately. In sync, as if we’re still dancing, she does the same to me. Our bras come off and my mouth falls open because her breasts are even more beautiful than I imagined. They’re full and perfectly shaped—and make my pulse spike alarmingly high.

I must be too entranced by how beautiful she is because there’s no opportunity for me to even reach for Clancy’s divine breasts. She comes for me instead. She cups my breasts in her hands and strokes her thumbs along my nipples.

“I need to fuck you now,” she says, her voice low and gravelly. “Can I?” she asks, although it couldn’t sound less like a question if she tried. Her lips skate along my ear again. “I want to make you come,” she says, making my breath hitch in my throat—making me feel as though I’m already more than halfway there, with her thumbs on my nipples and her hot breath on my skin. And those words in my ear.

We wrestle off the remainder of our clothes, then tumble onto the bed fully naked.

Clancy lies by my side, her body draped half on top of me. She smiles down at me and if a mere smile could set something on fire, I’d be in flames right now. I slide my hands over her smooth back, pulling her closer, because whatever this is between us, I only want more. My hands slide down farther, to the firm curve of her ass. Clancy’s strong body on me is unexpectedly heavy, her weight settling over me like the promise she just made.

Her smile tells me she knows exactly what she’s going to do to me. Even as it fades from view, I can still feel it as she lowers her mouth to mine, slowly, her lips barely brushing against mine.

As though she has all the time in the world, her tongue traces the seam of my lips—and my breath catches as I open for her, letting her in, feeling that first soft glide of her tongue against mine ripple straight through me. The kiss deepens quickly and I pull her to me, my nails burrowing into the strong flesh of her ass. Her breasts press into mine, her nipples rock-hard reminders of this insane spark between us.

When we break from our kiss, Clancy looks down at me, a more than devilish grin on her lips. “I’m going to lick you now,” she murmurs, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Taste you.”

She kisses me again but slides her body off me so her hand can roam free. With her lips firmly glued to mine, she cups my breast, rolls a nipple between her fingers. Then her hand skates down and my clit nearly explodes with anticipation. To think that I wanted to deny myself this—but no, I mustn’t think like that. Either way, there’s no time for thinking as Clancy’s fingers skim through my wetness before circling my clit.

“Oh, fuck,” I moan. Perhaps the tasting will have to wait until later because I’m no better than Clancy earlier, when she came for me so swiftly.

“I need you to wait for me,” Clancy says. “Let me have this,” she whispers in my ear before she maneuvers herself down, between my legs. But the act of spreading for her, of having her exactly where I want her, makes me doubt I have that kind of resolve. My body’s not that strong, and my desire for her is too overwhelming.

Clancy’s breath is warm against the skin of my thighs. Then her mouth follows, savoring every inch of me. The first touch of her tongue is too gentle for what I crave and I lift my hips toward her. Her touch is light and teasing, like she’s slowly drawing something out of me.

When she finally deepens it, just a fraction, it sends a sharp, liquid heat through me, my fingers curling into the sheets as I try—and fail—to stay still for her. She holds me in place with one hand, firm enough to make a point.

“Stay,” she says, her voice just a breathy whisper, as though she knows full well I won’t—because I can’t.

I glance down at her and—as if she can feel my gaze on her—Clancy looks up at me, like she’s checking exactly how far gone I am. That look alone nearly does it. But she still doesn’t rush. If anything, she seems to slow down again, just enough to stretch the moment, to keep me balanced right on the edge. My body tightens, every nerve pulled taut, my breath coming in short, uneven bursts as I try to hold on—to give her what she asked for—but it’s slipping.

I try to hold her gaze, but it’s impossible. I clutch at the sheets as it crashes through me all at once, this overwhelming surge that steals all the air from my lungs. She licks me through this first earth-shattering orgasm with her and, as I ride this deliciously long wave of pleasure, I know, as certain as I’ve ever known anything, that it won’t be the last.

Chapter 20

Clancy

I wipe Jen’s wetness off my lips, savoring every last drop of it, as I crawl up to her, and drape an arm over her chest. When I look at her, my lips can’t help but curl into a smile.

“This is all your fault.” Jen brings her hand to my cheek and pushes a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“I wasn’t the one sending that text.” I push myself up on my elbows so I can see her face properly.

“But that you were there to receive it, is your fault.” Jen grins.

“And that I have a phone. And fingers to send a reply with.” I nod, folding my features into a serious expression. “Sure,” I say.