Chapter 3 - Clara

He laughs and his body shakes against mine. I hate having him this close to me—it's so difficult to think clearly.

I can smell him, feel his heat, the warmth of his skin soaking into me.

"Stop doing that, keep your hands to yourself," I warn him when I feel his hand drifting from my waist to my lower back. Why does it have to feel so good when he touches me? "Step away from me, let me go. I have to go back," I snap.

"Why? It's not like you are having fun, Clara. You and I both know it."

I bite at my lower lip.

He's right.

I am bored out of my mind with this idiot. But I am definitely not going to be admitting that to Alexei Dubrov.

I take a deep breath.

"Alexei. Move," I demand.

"Kiss me," he growls.

My entire body seems to freeze up with anticipation at the idea of kissing Alexei Dubrov—the bad boy to trump all bad boys.

He is the ultimate bad decision I could make in my life, and one I so badly want to make just to piss my uncle off.

But the consequences would not be worth it.

"Why the fuck would I kiss you?" I sigh in agitation. Is this guy ever going to give up and just leave me alone? I can't believe he's even here at the restaurant where I'm supposed to be having a very sophisticated date.

Set up by my uncle, of all people.

"To prove it."

"Prove what?" I roll my eyes back, getting tired of his games and tired of how good he feels pressed up against me like this.

"Kiss me, and if you can honestly say that your date is more fun than our kiss, then I will let you go."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," I stammer in horror.

"Well, I'm not letting you go until you do it."

"Alexei—"

But I can already feel myself lifting my face up towards his.

He wraps his long fingers around my jaw, the grin on his face telling me that he already knows he's won this round.

His fingers tighten over my jaw as he holds my face in place.

He brushes his lips over mine, not kissing me. Teasing me.

I let out an angry sigh.

He chuckles.

He's enjoying this.

I want to push him away and tell him off, but instead of an angry reprimand, my voice breezes from my lips gently. "You're an asshole, Alexei Dubrov."

"I'll be anything you want me to be, little fox."

My heart beats faster in my chest.

He brushes his cheek against mine, the heat of our skin mingling, making it feel like there is electricity sparking between us.

My entire body feels alive when he finally hovers his lips over mine. But he's still grinning.

I get sick of his games and grab the back of his neck to pull him into the kiss, but this asshole is so much stronger than me, I can't even get him to move.

I sigh heavily, a frustrated sound that he seems to enjoy.

Then, just as I am about to shake my head and call this game for what it is—childish and pathetic—Alexei presses his lips against mine and fire ignites in my mouth, running all the way down my spine, straight between my legs.

Heat spreads like a wildfire.

Untamed. Ferocious.

He moves his body in subtle ways against mine.

His hand is roaming over my back, and all I can think of is him. All I can do is get lost in him. I reach up and thread my fingers through his hair, running them over the back of his skull, pulling him deeper against me.

He lifts me into his arms, my back still pressed to the wall, but my legs now wrapped around his waist.

I need to stop this.

This is too much.

This is too intense.

I'm not even slightly in control here.

But I feel him smiling against my mouth again, and now I am smiling, too.

He gently tugs my hair to tilt my head back, and I giggle.

The feel of him so close to me like this is wreaking havoc in my body.

I push gently against his chest, not really wanting to stop, but reality is creeping in, and I know there is someone waiting out there for me.

He lets me slide down, against his body, back to the ground.

He steps ever so slightly away from me with a look in his eyes that screams victory.

I shake my head, looking down to hide the real expression on my face.

I can feel how swollen my lips are.

I can feel how every cell in my body is throbbing to feel more of him.

But I can't let him see that.

I grin and shake my head again.

"No. Sorry," I shrug, talking casually.

"No, sorry, what?" he says in horror.

"I didn't enjoy that at all. My date is much more entertaining. You can step aside now and let me get back to my table."

"Are you fucking—you're kidding. You have to be kidding."

"Oh, please, you would be able to tell if I was turned on. Do I look even slightly turned on to you?"

I shrug again, for emphasis.

His eyes roam over my body and stop, hovering over my nipples, which are hard as ice.

Shit.

"So, Alexei Dubrov. We are done here. You can move and let me go."

"You're lying to me, little fox," he says darkly.

"Hm." I pull my mouth to the side and raise my brows. "Am I?"

"You are." He doesn't seem too impressed with me.

He steps aside, though, giving me the space to leave. I push my shoulders back and reach for the door handle. I pull it open, and it takes everything in me not to turn around and look back at Alexei. I step out of the storeroom and walk straight to the ladies'.

When I am alone, I let out a heavy breath of relief.

My hands are shaking like crazy. Actually, my entire body is shaking.

This is absolutely mental.

I lean against the wall in the ladies' room, practically gasping for breath, pushing my hand against my heart to try and calm it down.

What the hell was that?

How did he turn me on so much from one kiss?

I run cold water over my hands, letting the bite of it ease my thoughts. Then I touch my hands to my face, trying to pull myself back into reality. This moment. Now.

I have a date outside. He's probably already wondering if I'm okay.

That poor idiot was already wondering if something was wrong when we were sitting at the table.

I pull a paper down from the dispenser and press my face into it, drying off the water without messing up my make up.

Okay.

I'm okay.

I take one more very deep breath and then push the door open, walking back into the restaurant towards my table.

I am so relieved to see that Alexei has paid his bill and left. I don't think I can look at him again after that.

I don't even know what that was, but I am sure he didn't believe me, not even for a second, when I told him it didn't feel exciting or fun.

I sit back down in my chair and smile as sweetly as I can at my date.

This poor guy.

He is probably the most boring man on the planet, but my uncle likes him.

He's rich. He has good connections.

I sigh.

"Are you alright? You were gone for quite a long time."

"I bumped into a friend in the ladies'. Sorry, she talks nonstop."

He laughs. "Oh, yes, I know how you girls are. The powder room is the biggest social hangout."

I giggle and pick up my glass of wine, all but downing it.

"I'll get us another bottle."

I want to say no, to make some excuse to leave, but it's still so early, and besides that I really, desperately need another drink after that kiss. I wonder if my cheeks are still flushed rosy pink—I wonder if my lips are still swollen.

I touch my fingers to my lips and do my best to hide the soft smile that threatens to spill across my face.

"Here you go."

My date pours me another glass of wine.

Brandon isn't a bad guy. He works hard. He does the right thing. In fact, all he ever does is work. It's also all he ever talks about. It's like he doesn't exist outside of the office.

Near the beginning of this date, I asked him what he does for fun, and he told me he likes to arrange data in spreadsheets.

Fun?

No thanks. I'd rather be tied to a cement block and thrown into ice-cold water.

I do my best to listen to his long, boring, shitty stories about work and shipments and clients and how well he is doing and how much money he is making. Oh my word. I'm falling asleep here.

I feel like I'm slipping lower and lower in my seat and I can barely keep my eyes open. We have finished the second bottle of wine, and I can't actually do this for another second.

I pull myself up, forcing my eyes open.

"I had better get going," I say, as politely as I can, hoping not to offend him.

But he is a bit of a mouse of a man and he doesn't even try and push me to stay longer. "Oh, of course, anything for you, my dear."

I always thought of the term my dear as one that only old people use.

I smile.

I do not roll my eyes, because that would be really rude.

"Thank you for tonight."

"Here, wait for me, let me give you a ride home. I know your car is here, but you can't drive after so much wine."

I am already standing up because I messaged my driver twenty minutes ago to come and fetch me. Besides, no one tells me what to do. Having my uncle boss me around is bad enough.

"You've had just as much wine as I have. But anyway, that won't be necessary, my drivers are already here—two of them. One will drive my car home for me."

"Oh. Well, then let me walk you to your car," he insists.

He holds the door open for me, and I realize that with the way he is standing I have to duck around him to get into the car. Of course, he's done this on purpose.

I move quickly, but he's anticipating this, and he makes a grab for me and pulls me into his arms. He smells like old man shaving cream, even though he isn't that old.

He purses his lips and moves towards me. I turn my cheek. Giggle nervously. Feel the wetness of his kiss against my cheek.

Then I dive into the car, rubbing the back of my hand over my face in disgust.

Gross.

"Bye, thanks again. It was a lovely evening," I shout as I lean out of the car and grab the door handle to pull it closed. He practically has to leap out of the way to dodge it.

His face looks bewildered.

"Please drive." I say to my driver, practically begging him to leave already.

I wave through the closed window at Brandon. He waves back.

Then I breathe a heavy sigh of relief and flop backwards into the seat.

Oh my word.

What have I done?

All I can think about is Alexei and his stupid, silly games. That playful, mischievous kiss. The way he holds himself with such extreme confidence.

Who the hell does he think he is?

I close my eyes and images of him flash through my mind.

My body starts to tingle.

I shoot my eyes open again.

No.

No.

No.

Get a grip, Clara.