Page 30 of Let It Breathe (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #1)

She laughed and wrapped her fingers around him, guiding him toward her. She waited for him to add the punch line to the joke, but he only made a soft strangled sound in the back of his throat.

“A nice girl,” she whispered. “One who puts it in for you.”

Then she did.

They both gasped at the same moment, she from the sudden shock of penetration, he—well, probably from the same thing. Just a different sensation, Reese thought as she began to move with him.

He stroked deep inside her and she moaned, feeling her legs come up off the bed to wrap around him. He was still holding himself up with his arms, trying to keep his weight off her chest. Afraid to crush her, probably, but God, she wanted to feel him against her.

“Come down here,” she whispered. “Come closer.”

Clay slid deeper and Reese cried out. He smiled. “I don’t think it’s possible to get much closer.”

“Your arms,” she gasped, dizzy with the next thrust. “I want to feel your chest against—oh God!”

Clay quickened his pace and Reese forgot for a moment how much she wanted to feel the weight of him pressing her down into the mattress. The heat was building inside her, too soon—way too soon—but God, it had been so long.

She arched her back and gripped a pillow with one hand, the other hand coming to clutch the side of his waist. He stroked into her again, and Reese felt something snap inside her.

“Oh, Jesus,” she shrieked, then remembered Larissa and fought to stifle her screams as stars burst behind her eyes and everything inside her exploded with pleasure.

She was still gasping for breath when she opened her eyes to see Clay smiling down at her. “You okay?”

Reese nodded, not sure she could speak.

“I was worried about crushing you,” he murmured.

Reese smiled and reached up to grab his shoulders. She pulled him down to her, forcing his weight on top of her.

“Stop being so damn polite,” she said.

Clay laughed and Reese felt the vibration of it deep in her chest. “That might be the strangest thing anyone’s ever said to me in bed.”

He was still hard inside her, still ready for his turn. A perfect damn gentleman, insisting that ladies go first. Reese grinned.

“Allow me to apologize in advance for my bad manners.” Still grinning, she flipped him onto his back.

Clay lay there in silence after Reese drifted off to sleep. His head was swimming, even though his body felt so saturated with pleasure that his nerve endings ached.

What the hell did you just do?

Not that he regretted it. Not exactly. Hell, it had been amazing. Reese was amazing. He couldn’t regret that, but still.

Your best friend’s ex.

One of the only friendships you have left.

Clay eased away from her reluctantly, trying not to wake her. He pulled the covers up around her, feeling his heart twist as she smiled in her sleep and made a soft whimpering sound.

God, she’s perfect.

He stood there watching her sleep for a few breaths, not quite ready to go.

But hell, he had to. Larissa was sleeping in the same house, and the last thing he needed was to have her wake up and discover them twined around each other.

The whole family would hear about it. Eric would hear about it. Reese would never live it down.

Still, he hesitated. He didn’t want to just leave without a word. That would be rude, something the old Clay might’ve done. Maybe if he slept on the couch?

No, still too close. Even worse, her family would see his truck there in the morning, and they’d know he’d spent the night.

Okay, so he’d go.

The thought of driving back to his cold hotel room wasn’t appealing, either, but it was his only option. He looked at Reese again, her hair spread out on the pillow and her hand curled against one cheek.

So beautiful.

He shook his head, thinking this is what perverts did. Stand there naked watching a woman sleep. He dressed in silence, figuring he could shower when he got back to the hotel.

He opened the bedroom door and crept into the living room. There, he looked around for some paper and something to write with. He found a notepad on the kitchen counter with a pen tucked into the spiral and sat down to write her a note.

What the hell should he say?

The old Clay wouldn’t have left a note at all, or maybe he would have. Something gauche— thanks for the great lay or an asinine thing like that. Clay looked down at the blank paper, not wanting to blow it.

Reese, he wrote. I had a great time.

He stopped, stared at the words on the page. Stupid. It sounded like bathroom graffiti. For a good time, call Reese .

He tore off the page and tried again.

Reese, I wish I could stay, but ? —

But what?

“Dammit,” he muttered, and tore off the page again.

“Whatcha writing?”

Clay jumped. He looked up to see Larissa padding barefoot into the kitchen.

Her hair was rumpled, but she’d changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that must’ve belonged to Reese.

Or maybe she kept a stash of her own clothes here for occasions just like this.

Her still-smeared eye makeup made her look like a hungover raccoon.

“Nothing,” he said.

She rolled her eyes and reached up to grab a water glass out of the cupboard. Her shorts stretched tight over her butt, and Clay was surprised to realize he wasn’t at all interested in staring. Not the way he’d done earlier when Reese had stretched and reached the same way.

Larissa said nothing as she filled her glass at the sink and downed it in a few quick gulps. She refilled it and did the same thing again. Then she set the glass on the counter and looked at him.

“Here’s what you say in your note,” she told him. “ Reese. You are amazing. Period. That’s it.”

Clay stared at her, not sure how to respond. “We didn’t?—”

“Of course you did. I know you’re a gentleman these days, but there’s no protecting Reese’s virtue when she moans that loud. Nice job, by the way.”

Larissa turned and filled her glass again. Clay swallowed and looked down at the notepad. “I don’t want to blow this.”

“Funny, I said that to Derek earlier.”

Clay laughed in spite of himself. “I’m serious. I’ve screwed up with her before. A lot.”

Larissa shook her head. “You’ll do fine. You’re a different guy now, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“So prove it. Write your damn note and get out of here before Grandpa Axl shows up and starts giving you sex tips.”

Clay winced and looked back down at the page. Finally, he scrawled a few words. Not what Larissa had suggested, exactly, but the sentiment felt right.

“Want me to give it to her?” Larissa asked.

“No, I don’t want you to give it to her. I want you to go back to bed and pretend you have no idea anything happened here tonight, got it?”

Larissa grinned. “So this is a secret love affair?”

“I don’t know what it is. But I do know your family thinks of Reese’s love life as public domain, and it really shouldn’t be anyone else’s business. I’m asking you to keep this one quiet for now, okay?”

Larissa sipped her water and shrugged. “Is that because you care about her or because you’re worried what Eric will think?”

“Does it matter?”

“To me or to Reese?”

Clay looked down at the page, then back up at Larissa. “Either, I guess.”

“Yes. On both counts.”

“Okay, then. I’m asking you, as a friend, to keep this quiet. I care about her a lot. A whole lot.”

Larissa studied him for a moment, so intently Clay fought the urge to look away. She took a few small sips of her water, then shrugged. “Thank you for bailing me out earlier.”

“Not a problem.”

“I don’t know what I saw in him.”

“Beer goggles,” Clay said. “Happens to the best of us.”

Larissa snorted. “Guess so.”

“Be careful, okay?”

“With boys or with beer?”

“Yes.”

Larissa nodded. “Thank you. For caring, I mean. And for rescuing me.”

Clay nodded and stood up. “I’m sticking this on her nightstand now. Please don’t sneak in there and read it, okay?”

“You take away all my fun.”

“I doubt that.”

Clay crept back into Reese’s room, glad to see she hadn’t stirred.

He stood there for a few seconds, watching her chest rise and fall.

One edge of the sheet had slipped beneath her left breast, and he reached down to pull it up for her.

His fingers grazed her warm flesh and he nearly lost his mind as she stirred and smiled in sleep.

It was all he could do not to bend down and kiss her.

He knew this was better, that they needed to protect whatever was happening between them until they had time to sit down with their clothes on and talk things through.

He set the note on her nightstand and backed out of the room, still reluctant to take his eyes off her.

At last, he closed the bedroom door behind him.

Larissa had gone back to bed or to the bathroom or something, so Clay didn’t have anyone to say goodbye to as he opened the front door and stepped out into the damp night air.

The frogs and crickets conducted a noisy symphony in the darkness, and somewhere Clay heard a train whistle.

He breathed in the scent of wet earth and fermented fruit and the grassy scent of Reese still clinging to his skin.

He pulled the front door shut behind him, and crept quietly across the gravel driveway to the spot where he’d parked.

The truck door creaked loudly as he opened it, and Clay winced.

As he climbed in, he closed it as softly as he could.

Reese’s window was only a few feet away, not to mention her parents’ house just across the vineyard. Sound carried out here.

He eyed the slope of the driveway and decided to coast to the flat spot before cranking the engine. He stuck the key in the ignition and flicked the lights, releasing the emergency brake. The truck began a slow roll down the driveway, gravel popping under the tires.

Clay was so focused on making a silent exit that he almost didn’t see it. He wasn’t sure what caught his eye exactly—a moving shape? A person? A car?

Or just the thick plume of gray smoke curling slowly up from the side of the winery barn.

“Oh, shit,” he said, and slammed on the brakes.