Wrestling butterflies and insecurities, Claire opened the door from the bedroom to the living room as her hand trembled slightly on the cool door knob. Scanning the suite, she immediately noticed Harry’s bed. He had a sheet, blanket, and pillow on the sofa. Continuing to search, she found the man she sought. Irony struck when she realized he stood exactly where Tony stood hours before, at the large window, staring out at the dark San Diego skyline.
Worried that he’d reject what she had to offer, she tried to push the doubts from her mind and press forward -- barefooted across the light carpet. As she neared him, she saw the glass in Harry’s hand; it wasn’t one of the stemmed wine goblets from the table, but a small tumbler from the bar. He swallowed the last of the wine.
Quietly she moved next to him and touched his elbow. Lost in thought and startled by the contact, he turned his gaze to her. She watched as his blue eyes devoured and his expression morphed. She was only inches away, her face clean of makeup and tears, her hair brushed, and wearing a silk, floor length, light green nightgown.
She remained motionless, nervously awaiting his response. When he didn’t speak, she tried for levity, “You’re awfully tall to sleep on that sofa.”
Keeping his eyes fixed to hers, he replied, “I was thinking the same thing as I put the blanket there.” His hand gently went to Claire’s shoulder, teasing the delicate spaghetti strap. She closed her eyes and exhaled, causing her breasts to move as her lungs deflated.
In unison, they stepped forward. Her nipples hardened as they brushed the silk nightgown and pushed against his hard chest. They’d been close to this numerous times, always stopping before making the ultimate leap.
Claire knew the consequence of her clothing choice. She had shorts and t-shirts for her morning work-outs. If she’d chosen that for her sleeping attire, she’d have sent an entirely different message. But she didn’t. Her decision wasn’t made hastily; she’d been debating it for weeks.
Harry’s voice resonated deeper than usual, “You’ve had a long night. Don’t you want some sleep?”
Her body shivered with anticipation, and her response came breathily, “Eventually.”
He pulled her petite frame to him. Within his embrace, her body became liquid, molding against his. “Are you sure? I didn’t come here for this.”
She nodded, smiling a shy tight lipped smile and wrapping her arms around his muscular torso. “I know. You came because you were worried about me.” It was Harry’s turn to nod. She strained her tip toes to kiss his cheek, “And I appreciate your concern.”
He lifted his brows, “So this is your way of saying thank you?”
Claire gazed through her lashes, “No. I said thank you, I think. This is what I want.”
With only a moment’s hesitation, he took her hand and led her toward the bedroom. Her insecurities faded with each step. When they reached the threshold, Harry stopped and asked, “Are you letting me in, or pushing him out?”
Claire’s smile faded as she contemplated the question she wished he’d never asked. Feeling the warmth of the hand that encased hers, she replied honestly, “At the risk of losing you to the sofa, I don’t know.”
He reached down and scooped Claire into his arms. She giggled in surprise as her feet left the ground. “At the risk of sounding like a man, at this moment I don’t give a damn. I just want to be sure you know what you’re doing.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and spoke with purposeful breaths into his ear. “I promise I know exactly what I’m doing. It’s you and your actions I’m uncertain about,” she nuzzled his neck, “and the anticipation is driving me crazy.”
His blue eyes twinkled, “Ms. Nichols, crazy is just the way I like you.” He laid Claire upon the king sized bed and watched as her long chestnut hair fanned behind her lovely face, highlighting the intense shimmer of her emerald eyes. After kissing her sweet lips he expressed his true observation, “You are so beautiful!”
Claire felt her cheeks blush as she lifted her head to watch Harry pull his shirt over his head. She’d seen his bare chest before, usually when they’d worked out together. Tonight she stared, thinking it looked wider than she’d remembered. The sight of it heaving with each breath, took her breath away. Happily, she replied, “I must say, I like my view, too.” Her smile flowed from her lips, to her cheeks, and settled in her glittering green eyes.
When he started to unbuckle his belt, Claire sat up and asked, “May I?” Harry nodded and watched as Claire reached for the buckle.
She was a divorced twenty-nine year old woman, not a teenager. There was no need to portray false purity. Harry knew her past. As she unzipped his slacks and his boxer shorts tented in expectation, it was obvious he wasn’t deterred by her boldness.
Standing in only his boxers, Harry reached for Claire’s hands and helped her stand. With their chests once again touching he whispered, “My turn.”
First uncertain, she then nodded, understanding his meaning. Slowly he bent down and secured the hem of her silk gown. With painstaking patience he eased the soft fabric over her hips, torso, and breasts. Only the gasp that escaped his lips, as he uncovered her supple firm body, could be heard until he spoke with the raspy tenor of desire, “Lift your arms.” She acquiesced, and he eased the gown over her head, dropping it to the floor in a puddle of silk.
Harry’s smile made her feel sexy, as she stood before him wearing only a small white pair of lacy panties. His eyes never left hers as he stepped toward her. Though his words directed her movements, his tone spoke with desire, “Lie down.”
She stepped back, their eyes locked with need and gratification. Feeling the bed against her legs, she did as he bid. He gracefully followed her onto the soft mattress. His soft blue eyes danced with yearning. The emerald – blue contact ended as Claire’s eyes closed, in response to Harry’s caresses. Next, his lips contacted her soft exposed skin eliciting moans from deep inside of her. His kisses began at her cheeks, moved to her neck, shoulder, and down to her breasts.
Claire’s breathing labored at the feel of his fingers massaging the small white lace triangle and his tongue tantalizing her hard nipples. Her back arched toward his touch and fingers twisted his blonde hair. She pushed his shadowed stubbly chin against her throbbing breasts. The sensation overwhelmed her deprived senses. She craved more.
She kissed his head, tasted his shampoo, and inhaled his after shave. It’d been so long. Claire knew what she wanted and the sexual assault upon her electrified nerves made her patience dissolve. She wanted him -- now.
Harry didn’t show the same urgency, patiently caressing, feeling and kneading her most sensitive areas. Though she pleaded for more, he continued his reverent worship. Between kisses he showered her with adoration and compliments, “You’re amazing.” “Your skin is so soft.” “I want you so much.” The longer he denied her, the more intense her desire. Never had a first time been so intense. Never had Claire been made to feel so adored.
Her body tensed when Harry asked if she was on the pill. It hadn’t occurred to her. The birth control insert that she had implanted long ago had passed its expiration. Thankfully, Harry was prepared. She didn’t question why he carried a condom. At the moment her only reaction was relief. When they finally united, they were both hot with carnal longing.