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“Hmm?”
I felt her lips on my back. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I replied, my body shifting as a wave of pained pleasure washed over me. “Claire…”
She kissed me again, but this time she slipped her hand out of mine and trailed it down my stomach, not stopping until her fingers grazed my inner thigh. “Gerard.”
Jesus Christ. My heart was beating so hard in my chest that I thought it was going to implode inside of me.
“Don’t,” I croaked out, snatching her hand back up when her fingertips slid under the elasticated waistband of my boxers.
Unable to repress the shudder that racked through me, I rolled around to face her. “Claire,” I whispered, cupping her face with my hand, while trying to regain some composure. “What are you doing?”
Instead of responding with words, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to the inside of my wrist. “I don’t want Jamie Kelleher,” she whispered, shifting closer so that our chests were flush together. “I don’t want anyone else.”
Her hand slid beneath the covers once more, and I couldn’t stop the pained groan that escaped my lips when her fingers grazed the fabric that contained my raging hard-on.
Jesus Christ.
Everything inside of me was demanding I reciprocate her advances and finally claim this girl for my own.
Let her do it.
Just let her touch you.
“No.” Shuddering, I shook my head and snatched her hand back up. I knew what she wanted, and I couldn’t get out of my head long enough to give it to her. “You can’t.”
Big, innocent, brown eyes looked up at me. “I can’t.”
I shook my head slowly and held my breath, preparing for the wave of devastation that would floor me when she climbed out of my bed and stormed out. Because like the habit of a lifetime, I had once again failed this girl.
But it didn’t come.
She didn’t leave.
“Okay, I can’t,” Claire replied, words barely more than a breathy whisper. “But…” Taking my hand in hers, she placed it between her legs. “Can you?”
“Claire.”
“Please, Gerard,” she breathed, chest heaving, as she adjusted my hand so that I was cupping her over her underwear. “Please.”
30
This Is What It Feels Like
CLAIRE
I couldn’t move an inch.
I didn’t dare breathe.
My body had been taken over by hormones, and I was currently at the mercy of the only boy I had ever loved. His hand was between my legs, where I had put it, and he was staring at me with a heated expression.
Repressing the urge to push Gerard onto his back and mount him, something my body assured me it would very much enjoy, I remained perfectly still, with my hand covering his and my eyes willing him to touch me.
Because the sad fact of the matter was that while I had zero experience with boys in bedrooms, this particular boy could do whatever he wanted to me, and I would gladly participate. That’s how desperately my body craved his touch.
A million different emotions flashed in his eyes as I watched him watch me until I thought I might cry out in frustration.
