The tip of his finger tilted my chin up, and his thumb brushed my bottom lip. “I think you look at me differently than they do, Claire. And if you can’t quiet those things holding you back, I don’t want to be the man they all think I am. Not with you. The one who’ll push where you let me, who’ll convince you with my lips”—he dropped his thumb but still stared steadily at my mouth—“and my hands until you convince yourself.”
My mouth opened to argue with him, but no words would come. Bauer had convinced himself that he was only capable of casual transactional relationships, maybe for a hundred different reasons that had nothing to do with his upbringing. Reinforced beliefs were hard to break down, and I wasn’t expecting this from him. Not once we kissed. A kiss like that, especially.
He was trying to do what he thought was right, what was honorable. The man who tried so hard to pretend he didn’t care what people thought of him was placing my own reservations so far ahead of his needs that I couldn’t think of a single intelligent response.
Which was why I let him walk out of the kitchen and fall back onto the couch with a heavy exhale.
The sound was so rife with unspent tension that my lips curved into a sad smile.
What a predicament I’d found myself in.
I walked up the stairs to the loft slowly, not because I was ready for bed—it was still early, the light outside the cabin a muted gray as evening fell—but because I just needed a little space to think.
As I perched on the edge of the bed, I touched my fingers to my lips. What a fine time for Bauer to allow his chivalrous side to surface, I thought ruefully.
After that kiss.
Twenty-two years suddenly felt like an impossibly long time to go without experiencing a kiss like that. Sure, I had some experience, probably the least of my sisters, but it was a sad state of affairs that even when I had fantasized about kissing someone important to me, my brain had never conjured that kind of furious, fierce hunger. An unrepentant want seizing both of us until we couldn’t touch enough, taste enough, or push our bodies closely enough.
I didn’t want Bauer to hold back.
I didn’t want him to worry that I was overthinking or would regret my time with him.
But I was overthinking. And it needed to stop.
Normally, I’d ask Lia what I should do, but I grimaced when I thought about how patently unhappy this would make her. She’d hate it.
No, for this one, I picked up my phone and tapped out a text to the sister who, above all else, would give me honesty and pragmatism alongside her always blunt delivery.
Me: On a scale of 1-10, how stupid would it be to sleep with Bauer when we’re trapped in a cabin until at least tomorrow…
I pinched my eyes shut as I hit send. My phone buzzed almost immediately.
Isabel: IF YOU DON’T, I EXCOMMUNICATE YOU AS MY SISTER.
Isabel: Are you seriously questioning this???? That man looked at you like you were an entire MEAL that he wanted to devour, and I cannot fathom one reason you wouldn’t.
Isabel: Wait. Unless you don’t want to. IF YOU DON’T ACTUALLY WANT TO, say no, and if he doesn’t listen, I’m strapping on my snow boots and I’ll rip his balls off and run them through A MEAT GRINDER.
My laughter was soft, and immediately, my eyes pricked with overwhelmed tears. It was a rare gift to be surrounded by women in my life who would commit such violent acts on my behalf without thinking twice.
Me: No, no ripping and grinding necessary.
Isabel: Do you even realize how wide open you leave yourself for explicit comments after texts like that?
Me: Ha. Sorry. You know what I meant.
Me: I like him. More than I thought I would.
Isabel: Listen, C, if you’re looking for someone to give you permission to quit overthinking and just DO THE THING, then I’m your girl. He’s gorgeous, funny, and there’s no denying he’s into you. The better question is why wouldn’t you?
Isabel: Don’t think too hard about what happens when you come home. Okay? If today is what you have with him, then let him teach you all the wonderful things that he undoubtedly knows. And if that’s impossible for you, then ask HIM out on a date when you AND the roads have been plowed, because holy shit, women can do the asking and there’s nothing wrong with it. He’d probably friggin love it if you did.
I chewed on my lip, trying to stop the smile at the way her advice lifted the slight pressure on my chest at Bauer’s self-imposed distance. She was right. He did want this, and he’d wanted it longer than I had. And no matter how badly we tried to ignore the way the bruises deep in our souls affected our relationships, this was the perfect example.
I wanted him.
He wanted me.
But I was overthinking because I wanted to know that everything would turn out okay.
He was pulling away because of how strongly he avoided possible rejection. Yes, he was protecting me, but he was protecting himself too.
We were products of our circumstances, but we didn’t have to let those circumstances steer the wheel of every choice we made. A lot of people did, but sitting there in the slowly darkening loft, I didn’t want to anymore.
When the sun rose in the morning, there was no way I’d look at Bauer with regret or disappointment. No, I couldn’t guarantee how this would play out, but what I knew about him and how he was making me feel was enough.
I stood and turned on the small lamp on the dresser, casting the loft in a soft yellow glow. With careful movements, I pulled off my sweatshirt and smoothed my hands down the front of my simple T-shirt. As seductive outfits went, it wasn’t my top choice, but so far, that hadn’t been an issue for Bauer.
The elastic in my hair came out easily, and my hair fell around my shoulders, messy waves left behind from the way I’d had it pulled back after my shower. The girl staring back at me in the mirror wasn’t overthinking anything. She knew exactly what and who she wanted.
I took the stairs quietly and paused when I saw Agnes sitting on the corner of the bottom one. She licked her paw and watched me with slitted eyes. Carefully, I scratched the top of her head as I passed, and she gave me a happy, rumbling purr in response.
That had me smiling as I walked around the edge of the couch.
Bauer was still lying there, his long legs sprawled out and one arm flung over his face, his chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. Briefly, I paused because oh geez, had he fallen asleep?
But as quickly as I thought it, he dropped his arm and pinned me with an inscrutable look as I stood over him.
Okay, so this part was one that I hadn’t thought out. Like the choreography of my little gesture.
No second thoughts, I reminded myself.
With both hands, I reached for the hem of my shirt and tugged it up over my head.
Bauer sat up slowly as I let it drop to the floor, his jaw tightening, eyes burning furiously over the skin I’d just exposed. Left in my leggings and simple bralette, I took a step forward and swung one leg over his hip so I could settle onto his lap.
His hands slid up my back, and he dropped his head into the crook of my shoulder while he seemed to try to get his breathing under control. Underneath me, he was big. Hard. Ready.
My hands wandered up his shoulders and over the back of his head. I kissed his temple, then licked along the edge of his ear, insanely gratified when his fingers tightened painfully on my back. They moved then, started to tug down the strap of my bralette. His mouth trailed along the skin on my chest, small sucking kisses that he soothed with his tongue.
When he reached the tops of my breast, he used the edge of his thumb to work me into a rolling mass of want. Still, we hadn’t kissed. Still, we hadn’t spoken a single word.
His head came back, eyes almost black in the dying firelight, and he searched my expression carefully.
I gripped the sides of his face firmly, so he wouldn’t—couldn’t—look away.
“I want you,” I told him. “I want this, with you.”
Bauer surged forward and took my mouth. Oh, he took it deep and sweet and hot and hungry. Endless, wonderful kisses that had us panting and sighing and moaning as my hands ripped at his shirt.
He took pity, breaking away to tear it off. My hands slid over his skin, wonderful and gorgeous and stacked with muscles.
Using his hands underneath my ass, he picked me up and turned us so that I was underneath him on the couch. Once I was settled, those hands moved onto the waistband of my leggings as he peeled them off. They landed in a heap with his shirt and mine. My underwear came next, his tongue coming out to lick along his bottom lip in a way that had me writhing helplessly while he stood and shucked off his pants and boxer briefs.
Before he came back between my legs, Bauer snagged his wallet from the side table and pulled out a condom.
I widened my legs so that he could settle his hips between them, and our hands greedily swept over all the places now bared to our eyes. After only a few minutes, I cried out because that wrist thing he’d done earlier in the day, the twist of his hand that felt so dirty when I was fully clothed, had me damp with sweat and my toes curling against the couch.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.