He doesn’t seem to notice the tears that fall from my eyes and land on his arm.
Chapter 12
Vaughn
I wake with a start from some intangible dream that fades the moment I open my eyes. Above me is a strange ceiling made of knotted cedar beams. Very modern rustic. Expensive. The bed is warm and extremely comfortable, better than any mattress I’ve slept on before, and the woman in my arms has the softest, silkiest skin I’ve ever felt. A slow slide of my hand over her form tells me she’s completely naked, and in absolutely exquisite shape. Too bad my head feels like it’s splitting open, or I’d reacquaint myself with—
She shifts under the blankets, her arm breaking free of the small cocoon we’ve nestled ourselves in, and one perfect breast peeks out at me with a deliciously appetizing pebbled nipple.
Claire Radcliffe. Her wild champagne-colored hair spread across the pillows.
My dick stiffens and strains against her hip.
I know I should move—push her off me, or at least reposition her body clear across the bed from mine. But I don’t. My hand stays on the curve of her hip, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the slope of her breast and its pale pink peak. It takes everything in me not to catch it between my lips and slip my hand between her thighs. This is my ultimate hell—her body—so soft, so inviting, so deliciously warm, and so fucking forbidden.
I have to get out of this bed. I know I do. I have to wake her up and uncurl her from my body, maybe find some Tylenol for this pounding headache. Call for help—a tow truck, maybe a plow.
I could shout, yell something out so loud she startles awake and flies away from me with those giant wild blue eyes of hers. How humiliated would she be? Waking up naked, tangled under the covers with someone who loathes her very existence. And I know she despises me just as much.
This hatred between our families was never going to end, and now knowing that the affair between our parents had never stopped, and she lived here with them? I wonder if she ever had a clue how much it hurt me, how she completely destroyed my family.
Damn you, Claire.
I can’t even believe she’s here.
I haven’t seen or heard about her since that awful summer.
She’s not on any social media that I’m aware of—Lord knows how many drunken nights I searched through every platform possible trying to get a small glimpse of her life. I wanted to find her in some awful place, maybe married to some fat, toothless old guy, and living in a small broken-down shack in some backward little town. I wanted her a lost soul, full of shame and remorse. A little harsh, I know. But she was the only girl who ever truly hurt me. It’s because of her that I learned love isn’t real and people, especially women, can’t be trusted.
Her breast rises and falls with her steady breathing. I’m a creeper, watching her, mesmerized. My cock throbs to be inside her. This is wrong, so wrong. I can’t want her like this.
So what, she grew up to be even more beautiful than I ever remembered; her and her perfect perky breasts are off limits. I could have a dozen women lined up for me in mere minutes, once this snowstorm is over. And they wouldn’t cost me anything—not my sanity, my money, nor my integrity. I’m nothing like my father. I don’t take whatever seems pleasurable to me with no concern for the consequences, no matter how aroused I am with her in my arms right now.
Fuck! I wish my body wouldn’t respond like this to hers. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s been too long, that’s all. I haven’t had sex since the day of my father’s funeral, with—I can’t remember her name, Elaine…Elena…Elaina. It doesn’t matter, she’s one of the country club members, offering her condolences to me in the club’s restroom. It was hardly satisfying. I just need a release, some mindless sex with someone, someone who isn’t such a thorn in my family’s side.
I mumble a low rumble of curses under my breath, I still haven’t attempted to move away from her at all. Embers crackle and snap in the fireplace near the foot of the bed, keeping the room cozy and warm.
Claire moves again and another breast bounces out to greet me hello. I rub my hand over my eyes to block the view. My cock is rock hard now—this is ridiculous. Images of dead animals and screaming babies flip through my mind, anything to lessen my desire that’s obnoxiously straining against her leg. But those breasts won’t clear out of my thoughts. Can you imagine the intensity of the hate-fuck we could have?
It’s definitely way past the time to vacate this bed.
Gently, I try to slide my arm out from underneath her head, but Claire responds by rolling and burrowing closer, slinging a smooth, silky leg over me. Just an inch more and her body would be in perfect alignment with my cock. What the fuck is wrong with her? Can’t she feel how hard I am?
I’m so fucking angry and aroused, it’s insane. I’m torn between wanting her to wake up and hate-ride me until we’re raw and her—no, I’m lying, I’m not torn, that’s the option I want—nothing else.
She moves again, and I swear to God I think she rocks against me. A low groan slips past my lips. We should not be in this position. I should not want this so fucking bad, but I desperately want to slide my fingertips down the length of her back and position myself flush against her core.
How could this be so erotic? How could I still want her this much?
She needs to get off me right now.
“Claire, get up.” My voice is husky and low. “You’re naked. Fuck,” I breathe, “we’re both naked.”
She slowly blinks her eyes open and pulls her head off my chest. Her hair tumbles around her, framing her beautiful face perfectly. Our eyes lock and we stare at each other for far too long.
“You need to get off me. Now,” I say, through tightly clenched teeth.
Her eyes shoot down over our tangled bodies.
“What is that?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.
“What’s what?” I say, knowing exactly what she’s talking about, but not wanting to give her the satisfaction of her knowing that I know she can feel my dick pulsing and throbbing between us. Jeez, I’m freaking losing it.
“Well, hello there, Mr. Montgomery. Are you happy to see me or are you holding a pencil in your hand?”
“My dick is a hell of a lot bigger than a pencil,” I growl.
“Is it?”
“Yes, it is.” I could call her bluff and show her, see what she does with it.
“Uh huh, sure.”
She presses her hands to my sides and tries to push herself off me, but the blankets we’re wrapped in prevent her from getting far. She tries to roll to her side and somehow manages to tangle the sheets tighter around our bodies. Now there’s no denying how aroused I am, with it all smashed up against her stomach.
“I’m just…I’m trying to get up,” she mutters.
“Then get up,” I can’t help but chuckle.
Her cheeks redden. “I will,” she says, curtly.
“Good,” I whisper, not wanting her to.
I push down as she slides her body up trying to squirm her way free, but we both still when we’re eye level and our lips only inches apart.
“You’re getting us more tangled,” she says.