Page 51
Story: The Opposite Effect
“Only because I stopped you.”
Her eyes roll as she huffs. “Thanks for the reminder. I would have hated for the sting of rejection to heal too quickly,” she snarls, shifting her eyes sideways.
I grip her chin and force her eyes back to me. “How bad would that sting have been if I’d taken advantage of you last night? Was it not better for me to deny you than hurt your feelings?”
“Ah, you just called me out for having a daddy complex. My feelings were still hurt, rejection or not.”
“Yet here you are sitting in the lap of a guy who’s far from a father figure. Maybe I was wrong?”
I’m braced and prepared for her to either flee from my lap or unleash a scathing tirade. She shocks me for the second time in under five minutes by remaining quiet.
I don’t know how many minutes pass with me holding her inmy arms as she stares out into space. I’m too entranced by her beautiful face to keep track of time. The silent void isn’t awkward, and it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. It just appears as if she needs a few minutes to gather her thoughts.
While she does that, I run my hand down her shiny locks, smoothing the frazzled pieces into place while relishing being the man she can find a moment of peace with.
After a stretch of silence, Clara mumbles, “I wasn’t always like that.”
I quirk my lips, pretending I don’t know what she’s referring to.
“I wasn’t always attracted to men who could take care of me,” she elaborates as the glazed-over look in her eyes fades. “I can’t recall the exact moment it happened, but I’m fairly certain the switch was flicked on not long after my eighteenth birthday.”
“That would make sense. The jump from adolescent to adulthood is pretty daunting.”
“It wasn’t that.” Her words are barely audible over the mad beat of her heart. “It was so much more than that.”
I hold my breath, hoping she’ll open up to me.
My wish isn’t granted when she leaps off my lap and declares, “Ireallyneed a shower.”
I only just stifle the groan her sudden loss of contact spurred from my cock. He was as happy as a fish in water nestled against the soft curves of her ass.
There’s no chance of holding back my second groan when Clara drops her eyes to mine. “Care to join me?”
I try to speak, but words fail me when I spot an unrecognizable glint in her eyes. Although her stance is strong and determined, something about her body language is off. I’d like to say I’ve witnessed a wide variety of her personalities over the past fourmonths, but this one is leaving me wholly stumped. I can’t tell if she’s petrified or excited. And while I’m being entirely forthright, not being able to read her scares the fucking shit out of me. I’ve got enough obstacles to jump over. I don’t need any more things added.
The unidentifiable sparkle brightening Clara’s eyes fades by the moment, no doubt snuffed by my delay in replying. It isn’t that I don’t want to join her for a shower—believe me, I want that more than anything—but I want to make sure this is what she wants and she isn’t acting impulsively from the mass surge of adrenaline pumping through her blood after her brush with death last night. I only denied her advances ten hours ago.Is ten hours truly enough time to overcome shock?
I scrub my hand over the stubble on my chin. “Are you sure this is what you want, Princess? I can’t guarantee once I’ve had you, I’ll ever stop. So if you’re hoping your adventure on this side of town will be a short one, you need to step back and consider your options more thoroughly.”
Any concerns clutching my throat loosen when a flash of excitement flares in Clara’s eyes. “Who said my visit was going to be a short one?”
I shrug. “Just an assumption.”
“Awrongassumption.” Her words crack out of her mouth like a whip. Spreading her hand on her cocked hip, she stares me straight in the eyes. “Are you going to show me where everything is? Or am I going to figure it out on my own?” she asks, quoting the exact thing she said the first day she arrived at Inked for her two-week trial.
I slant my head to the side and return her fervent stare. It takes a massive effort to keep my feet planted on the floor when a glint I can identify ignites in her heavy-lidded gaze before my very eyes. Even a blind man would recognize it. She doesn’t just want to beravished, she wants a man to help her get back the confidence she lost last night.
So, that leaves me with two choices. I either back away and let another man step up to the plate or continue wielding the bat I’ve been holding the past four months. Since there’s no chance in hell I’ll ever let another man take care of Clara, let alone touch her, it looks like there’s really only one option. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t as happy as a pig in mud to be awarded the challenge.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The soft pants of Clara’s breath increase the further we step toward the bathroom. A crackling of energy fires the air between us, inciting a prickling of goosebumps to form on her arms. When I swing open the thick black door and switch on the light, she inhales a ragged breath before her eyes absorb the grandeur of the bathroom.
Other than my bedroom, this is my favorite room in my apartment. It is roomy, dark, and incredibly manly. Although it took a good chunk of the money I had left after downgrading from a two-bedroom apartment and a solid forty hours of my weekend, I’m glad I put the effort in. Even more so now since it’s managed to shock Clara into silence.
I watch the excitement in her eyes grow when I unfasten the button on my jeans and lower the zipper. Her eyes blaze when I glide them down my thighs and kick them to the side. She tries to hold my gaze when my Calvin Kleins follow the path my jeans just made. She fails.
I’m hard in an instant, jutted and firm when she gasps in a wildbreath. The heat scorching my blood turns potent when she murmurs, “Jesus,” under her breath as her eyes drink in the effect her avid gaze has on my cock.
Her eyes roll as she huffs. “Thanks for the reminder. I would have hated for the sting of rejection to heal too quickly,” she snarls, shifting her eyes sideways.
I grip her chin and force her eyes back to me. “How bad would that sting have been if I’d taken advantage of you last night? Was it not better for me to deny you than hurt your feelings?”
“Ah, you just called me out for having a daddy complex. My feelings were still hurt, rejection or not.”
“Yet here you are sitting in the lap of a guy who’s far from a father figure. Maybe I was wrong?”
I’m braced and prepared for her to either flee from my lap or unleash a scathing tirade. She shocks me for the second time in under five minutes by remaining quiet.
I don’t know how many minutes pass with me holding her inmy arms as she stares out into space. I’m too entranced by her beautiful face to keep track of time. The silent void isn’t awkward, and it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. It just appears as if she needs a few minutes to gather her thoughts.
While she does that, I run my hand down her shiny locks, smoothing the frazzled pieces into place while relishing being the man she can find a moment of peace with.
After a stretch of silence, Clara mumbles, “I wasn’t always like that.”
I quirk my lips, pretending I don’t know what she’s referring to.
“I wasn’t always attracted to men who could take care of me,” she elaborates as the glazed-over look in her eyes fades. “I can’t recall the exact moment it happened, but I’m fairly certain the switch was flicked on not long after my eighteenth birthday.”
“That would make sense. The jump from adolescent to adulthood is pretty daunting.”
“It wasn’t that.” Her words are barely audible over the mad beat of her heart. “It was so much more than that.”
I hold my breath, hoping she’ll open up to me.
My wish isn’t granted when she leaps off my lap and declares, “Ireallyneed a shower.”
I only just stifle the groan her sudden loss of contact spurred from my cock. He was as happy as a fish in water nestled against the soft curves of her ass.
There’s no chance of holding back my second groan when Clara drops her eyes to mine. “Care to join me?”
I try to speak, but words fail me when I spot an unrecognizable glint in her eyes. Although her stance is strong and determined, something about her body language is off. I’d like to say I’ve witnessed a wide variety of her personalities over the past fourmonths, but this one is leaving me wholly stumped. I can’t tell if she’s petrified or excited. And while I’m being entirely forthright, not being able to read her scares the fucking shit out of me. I’ve got enough obstacles to jump over. I don’t need any more things added.
The unidentifiable sparkle brightening Clara’s eyes fades by the moment, no doubt snuffed by my delay in replying. It isn’t that I don’t want to join her for a shower—believe me, I want that more than anything—but I want to make sure this is what she wants and she isn’t acting impulsively from the mass surge of adrenaline pumping through her blood after her brush with death last night. I only denied her advances ten hours ago.Is ten hours truly enough time to overcome shock?
I scrub my hand over the stubble on my chin. “Are you sure this is what you want, Princess? I can’t guarantee once I’ve had you, I’ll ever stop. So if you’re hoping your adventure on this side of town will be a short one, you need to step back and consider your options more thoroughly.”
Any concerns clutching my throat loosen when a flash of excitement flares in Clara’s eyes. “Who said my visit was going to be a short one?”
I shrug. “Just an assumption.”
“Awrongassumption.” Her words crack out of her mouth like a whip. Spreading her hand on her cocked hip, she stares me straight in the eyes. “Are you going to show me where everything is? Or am I going to figure it out on my own?” she asks, quoting the exact thing she said the first day she arrived at Inked for her two-week trial.
I slant my head to the side and return her fervent stare. It takes a massive effort to keep my feet planted on the floor when a glint I can identify ignites in her heavy-lidded gaze before my very eyes. Even a blind man would recognize it. She doesn’t just want to beravished, she wants a man to help her get back the confidence she lost last night.
So, that leaves me with two choices. I either back away and let another man step up to the plate or continue wielding the bat I’ve been holding the past four months. Since there’s no chance in hell I’ll ever let another man take care of Clara, let alone touch her, it looks like there’s really only one option. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t as happy as a pig in mud to be awarded the challenge.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The soft pants of Clara’s breath increase the further we step toward the bathroom. A crackling of energy fires the air between us, inciting a prickling of goosebumps to form on her arms. When I swing open the thick black door and switch on the light, she inhales a ragged breath before her eyes absorb the grandeur of the bathroom.
Other than my bedroom, this is my favorite room in my apartment. It is roomy, dark, and incredibly manly. Although it took a good chunk of the money I had left after downgrading from a two-bedroom apartment and a solid forty hours of my weekend, I’m glad I put the effort in. Even more so now since it’s managed to shock Clara into silence.
I watch the excitement in her eyes grow when I unfasten the button on my jeans and lower the zipper. Her eyes blaze when I glide them down my thighs and kick them to the side. She tries to hold my gaze when my Calvin Kleins follow the path my jeans just made. She fails.
I’m hard in an instant, jutted and firm when she gasps in a wildbreath. The heat scorching my blood turns potent when she murmurs, “Jesus,” under her breath as her eyes drink in the effect her avid gaze has on my cock.
Table of Contents
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