16. Claire

CHAPTER 16

CLAIRE

K en whisked Verity off somewhere soon after lunch, and Conrad and I walked barefoot down the beach. We strayed past where the tourists were, splashing in the surf, carrying our shoes and socks hooked over our fingers. At first I felt sad and… pre-nostalgic, missing this place before we had even left it. Then Conrad splashed me and I splashed him back, and I let tomorrow go to give him a drenching. By the time we were drying off in the sun, I'd laughed my clouds away and I felt better.

We walked till the sun hung low and we got hungry, then we made our way back to the resort. We watched the sunset from up on the roof, sipping frozen cocktails from sugar-rimmed glasses. Conrad took his paper umbrella and twirled it around.

"I'm glad we got stuck," he said.

"Me too." My throat tightened. "I mean, if we hadn't— I think today clinched my deal."

Conrad folded his umbrella, then snapped it back open. "Is that the only reason?"

"The only reason I'm glad?"

Conrad's eyes narrowed. He turned my way. "I'm asking you, when I said that, did you think of your deal? Is that what you'll remember when you look back on this?"

He sounded almost angry, but I knew he wasn't. I knew him well enough to know he was anxious. He'd gone out on a limb, put his own feelings out there. Now he was waiting, testing my courage. Would I do the same, or would I deny it?

"You know it's not," I said, flushing.

"I know it's not what?"

"I won't look back on some deal when I'm old and gray. I'll look back on this. On us. You and me."

Conrad took my drink away and set it aside. He took hold of my hands and leaned forward, eyes burning. "I want you to be happy. You know that's true, right?"

"Of course I do. Why wouldn't you want that?"

"But every time when you call me or I call you, when we meet up for one of our plus-one events, I get this rush of relief when you're still available. When I ask if you're seeing anyone and you tell me you're not. I want you to be happy. I swear I do. But there's this jealous little part of me that wants you all for myself." He sat breathing hard, crushing my hands in his.

"I check your socials sometimes," I confessed. "I tell myself it's to see that you're healthy. To make sure you're remembering to take care of yourself. But you have your own chef. Your personal trainer. I don't need to check on you except to see you're still single."

"So I'm not the lone crazy one?"

I laughed. "No, you're not."

Tension crackled between us, sparks in the air. Words never said. Chances not taken. I could have leaned forward and bridged that gap. Kissed all those years away, all those lost moments. But I wanted Conrad to kiss me. To choose me. He'd always been the one holding back, so if our dam was to break, he had to break it.

"I've loved our time here," I said. "Especially the parts that were just you and me. And the parts like on stage, when you?—"

He jerked me forward and kissed me. It was rough at first, harsh, almost angry. His hands came up and plunged into my hair. I felt a brief pain, a tug on my scalp, then Conrad's kiss softened and he held my head gently. He whispered something I didn't hear, the gust of his breath soft on my lips. A sharp thrill ran through me, a fierce, bone-deep shiver. I felt hot and cold at the same time, my belly on fire, my skin tight with gooseflesh.

Conrad pulled back, lips red from kissing. "I've never looked at you and not wanted to do that."

"Even that day we got paired up in class?"

"Hell, yeah."

I gaped at him, breathless. "Even?—"

" Always. " He kissed me again, long, deep, and searching. One hand stole down, possessive, to the small of my back. Held me against him as he plied me with kisses.

"There was one time," he murmured, when he came up for air. "One time, one night, a few weeks before finals. You had that car, what was it, that beater. It was pouring down rain and you were changing a tire, covered in mud by the side of the road."

"You stopped to help."

"I stopped to kiss you." His hand clenched on my arm, thumb digging in. "I know I didn't, but I thought it straight off. I saw you crouched there with your hair plastered wet, and all I could think was how gorgeous you looked. I still think of that sometimes, and how your dress clung."

"Well, you were a gentleman."

"I won't be tonight." He surged in again and I met him halfway. I'd wanted him too, that day in the rain. Longed for him to say to me, want to come back to my place? Come up to my room. I'll warm you up . When he hadn't, I'd almost grabbed him myself. Now I had him, I bunched my fists in his shirt. Held him tight by his arms and wouldn't let go.

"Let's go inside," he said, but I hardly heard him. I needed more of him, right here, right now. I climbed into his lap and pinned him down with my knees, unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it down his arms. It caught at his wrists and I pulled it tight, trapping his arms behind him. Trapping him in his seat.

"Mine now. All mine."

Conrad tested his bonds, then seemed to forget them. He kissed up my jaw, down the side of my neck, along my collarbone. I gasped. Bit my lip. He whispered my name and fresh heat pulsed through me. I'd never wanted anyone or anything with the desperation I wanted him now.

"Inside," he said again, and jerked himself free. His shirt dangled loosely from one red-chafed wrist. I reached out to touch where the cloth had dug in, but he captured me this time and swept me up in his arms. He stood without effort and carried me with him, his hot, eager lips still exploring my throat. I clung to him, nails biting into his shoulders. He pushed through the screen door and edged down the stairs.

"Don't drop me."

"I'd never."

"I shouldn't trust you."

He paused, lips still pressed up behind my left ear. "Why shouldn't you?"

"Because for twelve years, you convinced me you didn't want this."

"So did you." He tromped down the last few stairs and set me on my feet. "Besides, who's lying now? You knew what I wanted." Conrad pushed me up against the cool wall. I hooked one leg around him and pulled his body to mine. I could feel his desire for me and it ignited my own.

"Let's be honest," he said, and trailed a finger up my thigh, under my skirt, along the seam of my panties. My skin felt hot where he'd touched and cold where he hadn't. I wanted him everywhere. I wanted him naked. All I could think of was us skin to skin, his hands roaming over me, mapping my body. Nothing existed other than that, not New York, not tomorrow, not our jobs or our lives. Not Conrad's plane waiting to pluck us out of our dream.

"Honesty's good," I said, and tugged his belt loose. He slid the straps of my dress down off my shoulders. The whole top slithered free and pooled at my waist, and Conrad leaned in to tease through my bra. His hot breath came steamy through the thin lace, and his tongue circled my hardening nipple. He tugged with his teeth and I choked back a moan.

"They say it's never as good." He unhooked my bra. "Reality can't compete with what lives in your head. But this is better. You're better. You're so, you're so…" He drew a line with his fingertip between my freckles, a lightning-forked zigzag down to my navel. Then he followed it down with rough, heated kisses. He went to his knees and tugged my dress over my hips. My panties came with it and dropped to the floor. I took Conrad's hair and twisted my fingers in. Guided him where I wanted him, between my legs.

The sound he made then was half-hum, half-moan. It vibrated through me, a deep bass tremor, and I almost came undone right there and then. A soft shriek escaped me, then a cracked plea for more. Conrad obliged, and pleasure coursed through me. I arched my back, begged, raked my nails through his hair. Ground down against him to get more of that feeling. I felt no self-consciousness, no hesitation. Conrad knew me better than anyone, and now he'd know all of me. Now he would learn my most intimate secrets, and I'd learn his. It felt inevitable, me and Conrad, here, now. Like we'd always been meant for this. Meant for each other.

I whispered please and fuck yes. Don't stop . I bucked my hips. Conrad fluttered his tongue. My climax hit hard and knocked the breath from me, and my limbs turned to jelly. I sagged where I stood. Conrad caught me adroitly before I could fall, scooped me up close to him. Walked us through to the bed. He laid me down and I pulled down his pants. His cock sprang free, throbbing, and I shuddered with need.

"Come here," I said, and I arched up to meet him. I'd never wanted anyone like I wanted him. His body was perfect, just how I'd imagined, not overly muscled but wiry and strong. I thumbed an appendix scar scrawled down his side. That made him twitch, and his cock swelled against me.

"Tell me you brought something."

"You mean protection?" He didn't quite blush, but he ducked his head. He reached into the nightstand and pulled out a condom, tore it open one-handed and rolled it on. With that, I couldn't wait one second longer. I guided him into me and bit my lip hard. This was what I'd been aching for and I lost myself in it. I lost myself in Conrad and in sensation. I closed my eyes and let raw touch take over, his skin on mine, his stubble on my cheek. His hand gripping mine, fingers twining together. His other hand sliding up to cup my face. We kissed as he took me, long, slow, and sweet. Then lust took over and our kisses grew frantic. Our rhythm picked up, fast and hard. Hungry. When Conrad went tense, I squeezed his hand tight.

"Mine," I gasped. " Mine. "

Conrad groaned deeply. He thrust in to the hilt and held there. Held me to him. I felt when his peak hit, and I followed him over, so intense I saw stars, then my vision went white. When my head cleared, he was cradling me, stroking my hair. I was kissing him lazily, warm, unhurried.

"Let's take a shower," he said. "I'll wash your hair."

I opened my eyes. "Really?"

"You never let anyone take care of you."

"Neither do you."

He helped me stand up and we got the shower running. It was a fancy one with massage and steam jets, but we just put the water on, refreshing and cool. We turned up our faces to catch the spray, clung onto each other to hold ourselves steady. I was still breathing hard, my body still tingling.

"Worth it?" I said.

"You have to ask?"

I didn't at all, so I shook my head. Conrad took a palmful of my shampoo and worked it through my wet curls, starting from the ends. He went slow and easy, loosening tangles. I leaned back against him, enjoying his care. To my surprise, he didn't stop with one round. He shampooed me twice, then he took the conditioner, rubbed it on both his hands and combed it through my hair. I almost felt like crying, but I blinked it away. Sighed with pleasure instead, and deep satisfaction.

"Tomorrow—" Conrad started, but I cut him off.

"Doesn't exist," I said. "At least not for now." I turned to face him, leaned up for a kiss. "I'm not done with you yet. I'm not done with tonight."

"Oh, no?" His cock twitched.

I ran my hand up his belly. "Not by a long shot."