Page 42 of Sterling Clay

Clay slices that thin layer of distance between us in a slow, measured movement that includes cupping my jaw with one hand and placing his other lightly on my hip. He leans forward and the softest brush of his lips paints mine. A whisper of a kiss.

Somehow, I’m turned on more than I ever expected to be. A rush zings up my belly and my throat dries, desperate for more than a sip of him. I’m a parched woman in a desert of stifled desire and imprisoned passion. I’ve crushed on Clay Sylver too long not to take my chance with him. I want him.

He leans away but I’m quick to capture the back of his head, halting his retreat. Our eyes lock. He’s holding back. His desire is to dive in but his strength to protect me by staying distant remains steady. Patient. Waiting.

“Kiss me like you’d kiss her.” The request comes from somewhere deep within me. A place I’ve kept under lock and key for too long. I don’t care that I’m not his friend. We don’t have a situationship. But I want to know what it would feel like if we did. How does a good man kiss a woman? How does Clay’s mouth feel?

“I’d never kiss you like I kiss someone else, butterfly. A kiss between us would be unique. Special and beautiful, like you.”

“Smooth,” I murmur.

“I’ll kiss you any way you want, but I want to remind you, you have all the power. Take more if you need it. Pull away if you don’t. Just don’t hurt me, Mavis.”

The vulnerability in his tone has me leaning forward and offering him what we both want in this moment. A connection. A comfort. When our mouths meet, I melt into him, wrapping my arm around his neck and tugging myself closer to him. His hand on my hip slips behind my back, pinning me in place against the strength of his body. Our mouths seek solace and more. Something I don’t want to define because I’ve lived without it for so long and I can’t be certain it could ever be more with Clay.

“Keep holding me,” I whisper against his mouth, relishing how he’s given me the power I want to take. Allowing me to instruct him.

“Not letting go,” he murmurs along my lips, the vibration heightening the moment. Or maybe it’s his response. He’ll follow my lead.

“Kiss me . . . slowly.”

Clay hums, drawing out his movements. Taking his time to suck at my lower lip before re-capturing both of them, savoring them, tugging at them. Possibly struggling to hold himself back while letting me claim dominance.

“Give me your tongue,” I quietly demand, still shy and unsure, but as Clay slips his tongue forward, another rush of confidence rips through me. The fire in Clay’s kiss sets off a blaze inside me.

I don’t want to take advantage of him. He’s sacrificing himself for me. Still, I can’t seem to stop. The kiss grows from the initial soft sips to eager pulls. Lost in one another, I’m no longer certain who holds the reigns, but we’re racing toward something.

My wings are emerging, stretching, breaking free from containment, like the butterfly he calls me. The transformation he claims awaits me. I’m ready to spread those wings wide and lift off . . . when a knock startles us apart.

Breaking away from one another, we stare at each other, our breaths coming quick and shallow. His eyes are bright, full of laughter and longing. We both wanted more in the moment. Unfinished business rolls between us. One kiss won’t be enough.

And I’m never going to be the same after that kiss, after that kind of control. The power to make this man as desperate for me as I suddenly am for him.

“Clay,” someone calls out before opening his office door.

I take an exaggerated step back and turn to face a person I recognize.

“Mavis.” The broad man with silver at his temples and a scar through one eyebrow doesn’t sound surprised to see me.

“Knox.” My throat clogs on his name. He’s one of the two firefighters who rescued me from the flames that took my home. The man who saved my son.

Reality douses the fire inside me. Knox is a harsh reminder of what happened to me, where I’d been and how much further I need to go to fix my life.

“Nice to see you again.” He steps forward, placing a friendly kiss to my cheek, like we’re old friends instead of acquaintances from a harrowing incident.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Knox says, a tease in his voice as he addresses his brother. “But you’re needed downstairs. The festival.” He raises that scarred brow in reminder, as if somehow Clay has forgotten the party in the yard of Sylver Seed & Soil.

For a few seconds, I certainly had, but everything crashes back to me. “Dutton.” I step toward the door, preparing to exit when my elbow is gently cupped by Clay. This time, I don’t flinch away. His eyes catch on mine, concern suddenly filling that icy-blue gaze.

“He’s good,” Knox says, interrupting the silent moment Clay and I need. “Ford has him. He took the kids to see the newly hatched chickens.”

I nod once, tightly smiling as if I know where that is, and I hadn’t just gotten caught kissing his brother. Guilt is written on both our faces.

“Thank you. I’ll go find them.” Without a glance back at Clay, I exit the office, thundering down the metal stairs. The sound matches the clanging of my heart.

I just kissed Clay Sylver.

And I liked it more than I should have.