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would I do that? He’s sick. Like puking, and has a fever. He
threw up in the middle of my last class. Just got up and
grabbed the garbage can and tossed his cookies in front of
everyone. I had nothing to do with that. He’s got some
stomach bug. I had to drive us part of the way home. He’s not
going to be able to come with me tomorrow or Friday, and I’m
not missing class. If you won’t let me go alone, then lend me
Jenny or Jean or something, although I sure as shit don’t need
a babysitter.”
It was just a fraction of a second, but Claire moved. She
closed the distance between them so fast that Haley was
stunned. The woman moved with lethal grace and elegance,
and she was fast as a fucking jungle cat, ready to pounce and
tear out Haley’s jugular. She swallowed thickly and her hand
shot up to protect her neck just in case.
Claire grinned like she could read all her thoughts. The grin
was obviously fake. Had anything that ever showed on
Claire’s face been real? She was so hard to read, and she
seemed to have the fronting down to an art.
Haley didn’t move when Claire extended one elegant finger
with black nail polish on the tip, and ran it down her cheek, all
the way to her chin. Haley gasped when that same finger
traveled along her own fingers, then pulled away. Had Claire
really just stroked her? Caressed her? Touched her?
She was shaking now, but it wasn’t from fear. God no, it
wasn’t fear at all. The pounding at her neck beneath her
fingers was echoed a thousand times stronger, darker, hotter
between her legs. She was so wet that when she dragged in a
breath she could smell the sharp tang of herself in the air
between them.
