Page 48 of Let It Breathe (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #1)

She hesitated, then nodded as she licked her lips. “Yes.”

“But wanting isn’t the only thing between us, is it?” he asked. “I wouldn’t be here if that were the case.”

He stroked his thumb over her nipple and she gasped.

Then she slid her fingers down over his abs, then around his back. Her other hand joined that one and she gripped his shoulder blades, using them to pull him closer.

Clay slid his hand out from under her shirt and slid his palms to her shoulders. He shoved the flannel aside, baring the thin straps of the tank top. He kissed her left shoulder as the flannel fell away, dropping over her hands and onto the floor. Clay kicked it aside, not caring where it landed.

He trailed both hands down her rib cage, traveling downward until he found the hem of the tank top. He gripped the fabric and, in one quick motion, pulled the shirt up over her head.

Reese lifted her arms and the top slid off, leaving her standing there in her bra. She licked her lips as her nipples strained against the pink satin. Clay tossed the tank top aside, barely registering that it landed in the sink.

Polite Clay would have worried about water stains.

Normal Clay found the clasp of her bra with both hands.

He yanked the hooks apart, releasing the tension. Then he slid his hands up and pushed the straps from her shoulders, letting the bra fall to the ground.

“Oh,” she breathed as Clay nipped her bare shoulder, his teeth rough on her smooth skin. “Topless in my kitchen. This is new.”

“You should always be topless in your kitchen,” he said, and kissed her hard on the mouth. Reese responded, opening her mouth to him and sliding one hand up to cup his face.

He kissed her like that for what seemed like hours, moving from her lips to her throat, dragging his teeth over the rounded mounds of her shoulders.

They were both breathing hard as he slid down her throat, trailing kisses until he reached the edge of her collarbone.

He moved one hand beneath her breast, savoring the weight of it.

He cupped it gently, moving his mouth down to kiss the edges of it.

As his teeth grazed her nipple, Reese raked her fingers through his hair, urging him on.

He kissed her there, savoring the soft flesh of one breast, then the other, as Reese squirmed and whimpered. She drew one hand out of his hair and found his biceps, digging her nails in lightly.

“Your tattoo,” she whispered, tracing it with one fingertip. “Why wouldn’t you tell me what it said?”

Clay lifted his mouth from her breast and straightened, his fingers covering her bare nipples. He swallowed.

“It was crude. I got it when I was young. After the first stint in rehab—the one that didn’t take. I was embarrassed. I’ll tell you now?—”

“I already know,” she murmured.

He blinked, regrouping. “I wanted you to think I’d matured. That I’d stopped making dirty jokes, stopped drinking, stopped being a jackass.”

She shook her head and traced a finger over the words. “I didn’t want you to stop being you.”

“Me neither.”

She looked up at him from under her lashes, her expression halfway between playful and dangerous. “Res firma mitescere nescit,” she murmured. “‘A rigid thing doesn’t soften.’ Right?”

“Something like that.”

She gave him a salacious grin. “Show me.”

Clay pressed his hand into the small of her back, drawing her closer. She slid her leg between his and could feel him hard against her thigh.

“You need me to prove it?” he murmured.

“No, but I wanted to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“I’m hard for you , Reese—I want you , Reese.”

“I am. I do. I always have.”

She smiled. “Always?”

“Longer than you know.”

“Double entendre?” she murmured as she slid her hand over him, down and then back up, stroking the solid length of him through the denim.

Clay groaned and gripped her by the shoulders.

In one motion, he spun her around, turning her to face the kitchen counter.

She moaned as he cupped her breasts from behind, then slid one hand down to work the button on her jeans.

He yanked it open with one hand, then started on her zipper, not willing to take his other hand off her breast to speed things along.

Reese whimpered and moved her hands to her hips. She shoved her jeans down and kicked her legs free. One flip-flop went flying across the room, making a decided flop as it landed on the dining room table.

“Jesus,” Clay said, and eased away from her—not far enough to break contact, but far enough that he could see her. She was naked and beautiful in her kitchen, bathed in dim light and pinned beneath him.

She smiled at him over her shoulder. “You planning to join me, or should I cut you out of those jeans with a butcher knife?”

Clay reached for his belt, keeping one hand on Reese’s hip. He jerked his buckle free with the other hand, then tugged at the button fly. Reese wriggled her ass and squirmed against him and Clay released her for the ten seconds necessary to pull his jeans off the rest of the way.

He grabbed his wallet off the counter, fumbling for the condom he’d stuck there earlier on the slim chance Reese might be willing to give him another shot. He tore it open and rolled it on, returning one hand to Reese’s hip.

The other hand grabbed a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck and tugged. Her back arched, pressing her perfect ass up against him. He felt dizzy for an instant as Reese groaned and moved against him, her palms pressing hard into the counter.

“Please—” she whimpered.

“Please what?”

“I want to feel you inside me.”

The urge to oblige screamed through his body, but he fought it. “Not yet.”

Instead, he let go of her hair and slid both hands around to cup her breasts.

He leaned forward, using his weight to press her against the counter.

He nudged her hair aside with his chin as his lips found the tender skin of her neck.

He kissed her there, drawing his tongue along her hairline as his palms grazed her nipples, so softly he barely touched her.

Reese writhed under him and pressed her ass harder against his groin.

“Clay, please?—”

He bit the nape of her neck, and she bucked against him. He leaned closer, his breath against her ear.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Only mine. You’ve always been mine.”

“Oh, God, please!”

“For fifteen years, you’re the one woman I couldn’t stop thinking about. The one I’ve wanted, the one I’ve loved. Do you believe me?”

“I don’t?—”

“It’s true. It was always you, Reese. Always you.”

She bit her lip, angled her head to look up at him. She blinked, her green eyes blazing. “For me, too.”

He plunged into her then, and her words turned into a startled cry. He held still for a moment, not wanting to hurt her. He slid one hand down, worried about her hip bones against the hard granite of the counter.

“Please, Clay!”

He didn’t require more prompting than that. He slid his hand away from her hip, keeping one on her breasts but drawing the other one up to grasp a fistful of her hair. He gave another gentle tug and she arched her back again.

He moved slowly at first, hoping to hold on as long as possible. But she was so warm beneath him, so soft and wet.

Baseball, he thought, running through pitching stats to keep his mind distracted enough to make this last. Tire pressure, dog food commercials, barbecue assembly ? —

He released her hair and slid his hand down, moving slowly over her rib cage and around to savor the contour of her hip before finding his way to the thatch of curls between her legs. She bucked against him as he found the spot that made her cry out.

“Oh, God,” she whimpered and pressed into his fingers.

He tried to be gentle, to make slow, delicate circles with the pads of his fingertips, but Reese bucked and thrashed, urging him to increase the pressure. He felt her clench around him, felt her soft and wet and tight as he thrust into her over and over.

Dizziness clawed at the edge of his brain and he knew he only had seconds left, maybe less if she kept moving against him like that.

“Oh, God, Clay—I’m so close.”

He thrust deeper, no longer afraid of hurting her. She screamed, and Clay gripped her waist, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh.

“Yes!” she screamed, and slammed against him.

Everything exploded then, the light behind his eyes, the throbbing in his eardrums, something deep inside Reese.

“I love you,” he murmured against her hair. “I’ve always loved you.”