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My response is so quick and sharp that there's no mistaking the idea of him being out of the country indefinitely bothers me, but I don't want to think or talk about it anymore.
“Claire...”
“Thanks for the tea,” I say, hurrying my mother along after hearing the jug shut off.
Mum pours boiling water into the waiting mug and hands it to me.
“I'm going to drink it in here.”
In my rush to down the tea, I blow on it and take a sip. The liquid is still hot and it burns the whole way down. I try to hide my wince but don't manage it.
“Silly girl,” my mother clucks. “Come into the living room. Finish your tea, and then go home and get some sleep.”
I'm torn between arguing that I'll stay in the kitchen to finish my drink and being grateful that my mother will excuse me easily enough if I just drink my tea in the living room. Eventually, the desire to leave my mother's house as quickly as possible wins out and I follow her back into the living room.
15
Dylan
All I wanted was to do the right thing by Claire, I think as I kiss Diana goodbye and thank her for dinner. Claire finished her tea in a hurry and left about thirty minutes ago without so much as throwing a glance or a goodbye my way. Diana apologised profusely on behalf of her daughter, obviously confused and disconcerted by Claire's behaviour.
I'm less confused and disconcerted than Diana. Dammit, I knew Claire would be hurt by my choice to end our sexual relationship: I saw the pain flicker in her eyes when I told her I wanted to talk. I tried to do the right thing, but she didn't appreciate it at all. As she so crudely put it: she only wants one thing from me. Clearly, Claire Chase is far more capable of having fun than the people around her think. The guilt I felt about sleeping with Austin's little sister and leaving the country is all but gone now.
If Claire thinks she's gotten the last word, she's in for a surprise. She should be home by now, and I have every intention of paying her a visit. As soon as Diana closes the door behind me, I jam my helmet over my head. Mounting my bike, I start the engine and roar away, relishing the cold wind that rushes past me and the powerful machine between my thighs.
If all Claire wants from me is sex, I can give her that. After what she said to me tonight, I finally believe it. For the past twenty-four hours, I've been starving for another taste of her. Now I can pursue her without the guilt.
It hardly takes me any time to get to Claire's. I don't slow down as I enter her street because I want her to know I'm here – that I'm coming for her. I turn off the engine and dismount, takeoff my helmet and stride towards the door with only one thing on my mind – getting Claire naked.
16
Claire
My heart gallops as I hear the banging on the door. I know who it is. I didn't miss the sound of the bike speeding up the street. As Dylan pulled into my driveway, my mouth dried out while the rest of me broke out in a fine sweat. What's he doing here? I thought I made myself clear earlier.
Maybe that's why he's here. He was unhappy when I told him to forget about it. He didn't like me being the one to put an end to everything. Well, too bad. I'm tempted to ignore the insistent banging on my door, but after a minute I relent and go to rescue my neighbours from the noise.
It's only as I watch the cold look on his face change to one of pure, sinful lust that I realise I probably should have chosen something else to wear when answering the door. The dark pink cotton drawstring pants and soft pink, lace camisole I'm wearing are hardly indecent, but I'm not wearing a bra or underwear and Dylan can clearly tell.
“Are you going to invite me in?” he asks huskily.
“I told you I don't want to talk.”
“Who said anything about talking?”
“I...” I trail off as he walks in, shuts the door behind him, and then grabs me. He pulls me against him before lowering his mouth to mine and kissing me so thoroughly that every disappointment I've spent the last hour nursing immediately disappears.
I moan as his tongue curls around mine and my back meets the wall behind me. The explosion of lust is unlike anything I've experienced before. I push his jacket off his shoulders, right along with his flannel shirt. He cups my breasts through thethin material of my camisole, causing my nipples to tingle and tighten as I thrust my breasts into his hands. I pull away long enough for him to whip the top over my head and shuck his own t-shirt. As he picks me up, I wrap my legs around his hips.
He grinds against me, kissing me deeply. I whimper and pant as he tells me how much he wants me, how he's always craved me, and how he can't wait to be inside me again. And then his hands are sliding into my pyjama bottoms so he can bring my hips even closer to his.
I cry out as his erection rubs against my heated flesh and his name is a desperate plea I can't hold back.
He works his hand between our bodies, the sensation of my nipples scraping against his chest as his fingers find the sensitive area at the juncture of my thighs almost enough to send me right over. He's barely slicked his fingers over the nerve endings there before I've climbed to the top of the mountain. My entire body shakes as I topple over the edge, the walls of my sex squeezing the two fingers he pushed inside me at the last second.
He lets me slide to the floor and I slide my pants off my hips while he undoes the belt and the catch on his jeans with fast, frantic moments. Within seconds, he's sheathed himself and grips my hips, lifting me, the nudge of the swollen head of his cock against my flesh enough to trigger more waves of pleasure. He says my name and then drives into me, leaving me clinging to him as my world implodes.
He curses as he tells me how good I feel, and then he presses kisses against my jaw and down my neck before nipping at my shoulder and driving himself into me over and over again. The pleasure builds swiftly once more and when my body pulses around him, he quickly follows me over the edge.
