6. Clara

CHAPTER 6

CLARA

T he night was chilly, so Luis gave Clara his coat as they walked away from the taxi. "Oh, he's a true gentleman, is he?" Clara said, teasing him.

"I should hope that was obvious before you agreed to walk out into the night alone with me."

She winked at him and they continued along the path she had chosen. The park was her favorite in the city, and at night was no exception. It always felt safe and well lit, and only a little eerie. The views of the bridge from the raised gardens were spectacular. Clara had always wanted to take a date here, but they usually insisted on going to their own favorite places. One even joked that he preferred to do his hunting on familiar turf. Clara had not found it funny.

"So…" She began an attempt at small talk. "You bought a brewery, so we know you have money. Are you a tech start-up guy?"

"That's a great guess, considering, but no. I started in breweries. Buying Dog Days was me trying to get back to my roots. That first beer you hated was one of mine."

She stopped and turned to face him, her cheeks burning with shame. She should have kept her big mouth shut. But how could she have known he owned Morales Beers? Who would even guess such a thing. "You're kidding, right?" She could hope, but his answer left no more room for doubt.

"Not even a little. That's why I ordered it for you. I wanted to see whether you liked it."

"I'm so sorry. I would have been gentler had I known?—"

"Please don't apologize," he said. "I so rarely get a truly honest opinion. It was refreshing. I loved it."

She bit her lips and blushed even harder. "Ah, well… I guess, you're welcome, then? That sounds wrong."

"It shouldn't." He led her to a fountain and sat on one of the wooden benches encircling it. "Sit with me awhile."

"Okay." She sat beside him and leaned back, looking at the stars. For some reason, they seemed even brighter than usual, despite the light pollution from the surrounding scenery. "I always thought I'd like to take my kids to this park one day." She let out a bitter chuckle. "Now it's just depressing. Maybe I should have picked a different place."

"Nonsense," Luis said. "You just have to make other great memories here. And then, one day, when you've got those kids, you can tell them all about the man you brought here on a spontaneous date and how you've never have had a better date, not even with their own father."

Clara rolled her eyes with a smile. "If I use a donor, I won't even know their father." The she stopped and frowned. "The thing is, I never wanted to be a single mother. It's a lot of work, and I'll be the one supporting us. That's a lot of pressure. I won't really have that much time to spend with a child, will I? But a little time is better than no time, isn't it? Or is it?" She groaned and buried her face in her hands. "I'm never going to do anything right, am I? Not even motherhood. And that's supposed to be instinctive."

"Ah, sweet Clara." Luis's voice was more soothing than she'd expected it to me. "You are worrying over something that hasn't even happened yet. This is no way to go through life."

Clara heaved a deep sigh and squeezed his hand. "If you have any advice for how to shut that worry off, I'm here for it. I can't seem to control it."

"Oh, I have advice." She turned to look at him, and the glint in his eyes was pure fire. "It's just better if I show you." He leaned in, touched his forehead to hers for a split second, and then he kissed her.

It was an electric, toe-curling kind of kiss, and Clara felt her whole body melt when he slipped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her closer. She couldn't help grabbing the folds of his shirt to ground herself, only it didn't work. She was high as a kite on his kiss and his touch. Despite the chill in the air, her body felt hot against his. He was gorgeous, well dressed, and apparently an excellent kisser to boot.

He pulled back for a second and looked into her eyes, but she couldn't stand the distance between them, even though it was just an inch. She pushed forward and kissed him again, slowly sliding closer and closer until he was nearly on his lap. She couldn't recall ever wanting a man this much, and if the quiet sounds coming from him were any indication, he wanted her just as badly.

The magic was broken when a skateboarding teenager passed by and shouted, "Get a room, freaks!"

Clara stopped, embarrassed, but Luis didn't seem to mind. "He's just being rebellious," he said. "A tough guy."

Clara found her smile again. "So edgy," she quipped.

"And full of excellent advice," Luis added.

It took Clara a beat too long to realize what he meant. Though the alcohol had begun to wear off, she was still high on that kiss. When the meaning behind his words hit her, she felt herself turn bright red. "Should we?"

"I told you I wanted to spend the night with you," he murmured. "Surely that wasn't too ambiguous. We've both had a rough day, and we could both use a little fun to take the edge off, don't you think? If you're up for a night of—" he paused and brushed one thumb over her swollen lips "—real pleasure, then so am I."

Clara tried to stifle the desire blooming in her stomach, then she actually asked herself why. She'd been cautious all her life. If ever there was a time to be reckless, tonight was it. She wasn't guaranteed another chance like this — a chance to live like tomorrow didn't even matter. Why was she even hesitating to take his offer? "Let's do it," she said.

His smile in response was wider than she would have expected. "You won't regret it."

"You seem pretty confident in your skills," she said.

"Come with me and find out why."

While she believed Luis to be far from poor, the luxury of the hotel room he found surprised her. The bathroom was about the size of her own bedroom. The bed was massive, the view of the bay spectacular. Everything was classic, neutral colors, wood details, white linens and beige and gold wallpaper. The place made her feel like she was about to experience something special — a different kind of spa — and maybe she was. Her skin flushed in anticipation of what she knew was to come. But Luis was taking his time.

He poured her a glass of water and asked if she wanted ice. She frowned at him, questioning. He seemed to understand. "I want you sober, Clara."

"Why?" she asked.

He grinned down at her as she sat on the edge of the bed. "So when you're walking like you're drunk later, I'll know it was my doing and not the beer."

By now, her blood was positively steaming for him. She sipped her water and held an ice cube in her mouth as he knelt before her and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. After slipping out of that, he pulled a crisp white undershirt over his own head. The man was made entirely of sex and muscle, but of course he would be. He probably had a personal trainer and gym at his disposal, and he could clearly afford to eat right. What surprised her more than anything was just how clean his clothes were, even after the bad day he'd had. Somehow, he was so well put together that she would never have known he was even a little stressed if he hadn't told her outright.

She watched his shoulders flex as he eased her legs apart and slipped his well-muscled torso between her thighs. Then he began removing her shoes and socks. "Would you like to order your own courses, or do you trust me to plan the meal?" he asked, and he was clearly not talking about dinner.

By the tone of his voice, Clara got the impression that there was no right answer, but she was craving the unexpected. "Surprise me," she answered, echoing her earlier order of the beer. Except in this case, she got the impression his brand would be far from inferior. He may have been subject to bad advice when it came to beer, but his confidence in the realm of pleasure was undeniable.

He broke into probably the sexiest grin she'd ever seen on a man, slipped his hands under her shirt and pushed it up just an inch. He kissed her just below her belly button from the left to the right while slowly easing her pants down. She could feel his tongue graze her skin along with the stubble on his chin. He undressed her so steadily, she was able to forget he was even doing it, and just focus on his mouth against her skin.

Soon she was sitting in her bra and underwear, and he pulled her closer to the edge of the bed. He crawled over her to guide her down. The weight of his body against hers felt like heaven, and the shape of him — hard in all the right places — drove her crazy with desire. She wanted to wrap her legs around him and take him immediately, but he had better self-control than she did, obviously. And he seemed determined to torture her.

He kissed her, held her, and whispered into her ear. "I've never wanted anything as much as I want to be inside you right now. But I'm selfish, Clara. Every time you make love to another man, I want you to remember me. Remember this." He unhooked her bra and slipped it off with ease, grinding into her just enough to give her a taste of what was to come… and who. "Tell me, Clara," he said. "What's the most times you've ever finished in one night?" His face was against her breasts now, stimulating her nipples with his tongue.

She tried to answer, but when she opened her mouth, all that came out was a low moan. He had slipped his hand between her legs, over her underwear, and begun to massage her until she could tell she was soaking through the fabric. Finally, she managed to say, "Twice?"

"Mmm…" he said, making his way lower. "Tonight, we'll do way better than that."

The lights were down, and the sound of the traffic below provided a distant white noise that blended beautifully with the view of the bay. Clara turned her head to the side to stare out the window at the glittering city and saw her own reflection, naked and writhing under his careful tongue. Her own body surprised her, how beautiful she looked — how beautiful he made her feel. He listened and shifted, tasted and consumed her while she tangled her fingers in his dark brown hair. He brought her close multiple times, and finally pushed her over the edge, reveling in her cries of pleasure.

She saw stars when she closed her eyes, and he moved back to kissing her inner thighs. Her legs were shaking when he rose up over her again and helped back her further onto the bed. Now, he was less meticulous. Now he was tearing his clothes off to get to her, and his desire made her insides throb again. "This time," he growled, backing her into a pile of plush pillows, "we go together. Do you want all of me?"

Clara didn't even wait for him to finish his question before she answered, "Yes." And he plunged into her with a force that shook the bed. He was like another man entirely, aggressive and powerful. To her, it felt like making love to two separate men, and her body was more than agreeable to the idea, especially now that he was taking as much as he gave.

His own groans of pleasure inspired hers, and she brought her legs around him to lock him deeper into her as she grabbed the headboard and arched her back. His hands tightened around her waist, digging in as he lost control while she cried out for the second time. This time, he came with her, and the sharp feeling of his teeth on her skin punctuated the moment.

He let her feel him move in her a minute more before collapsing beside her.

She couldn't help uttering a breathy, "Wow."

"Yes," he said, rolling over to face her. "My sentiments exactly."

She took several deep breaths to still her hammering heart and let herself sink into the mattress. Everything was so comfortable, she felt like she could probably just fall asleep right there. "Do you feel better?" she asked him, staring up at the darkened ceiling.

"Immeasurably," he said.

"Me, too." She turned to face him. "Pretty sure you've ruined me for any future partners. I will never, ever forget this."

He smiled and kissed her throat one last time. "Glad to be of service."