Page 26 of Willing Prey

“Yes, ma’am,” Caine says, but she’s already gone. He hurries after her. I hear him asking some inane question and her sharp retort.

Bless her.

It’s just Claire and me. Loosening my tie, I step toward her. She seems fine now, but she looked miserable before. “Sorry. He’s a lot.”

Brown ponytail swishing, she shakes her head. “It’s fine. I was just caught off guard that he knew about our ‘arrangement.’ I thought only Gretchen and Margot knew. Well, and Sydney.”

Shit.

“I shouldn’t have told him without asking you.” The realization hits me as I speak. I’d been so focused on sorting myself out that I didn’t think about how Claire might feel about me telling Caine.

“It’s not a big deal. I know people talk about their sexual escapades and all that.

” Her chuckle is soft, almost glum, making me feel small enough to climb into her coffee cup.

“I should be used to it. Keith told everybody everything.” Exhaling hard, she shrugs and gives me a half smile.

“But you know that; that’s how I’m here.

Maybe I’m weirdly private or something. It’s fine. ”

Fuck.

The last person on Earth I want her to associate me with is Keith.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I wasn’t talking to Caine to brag about the sex but because I’m trying to figure out what’s happening in my head.

Why the end of the month nags at the back of my brain, a ghost haunting every happy moment.

Why I’m worried I can’t make the transition from contract to relationship.

But I don’t trust myself to say it right and not make this worse.

“You’re not weirdly private. For what it’s worth, I didn’t share details, only the existence of our arrangement.

But I shouldn’t have even done that without your permission.

” After a beat, I add again, “I really am sorry. If I’d known it would make you uncomfortable at all, I wouldn’t have said a word. ”

Crinkling the corners of her eyes, this smile is real. It’s the final turn that releases the vise clamped on my rib cage. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

“Of course.” I move beside her, mirroring the way she leans on the counter. “So now you’ve met my brother.”

“Yes.” She laughs. “I have.”

“Unfortunately, he’s the second best behaved out of us.”

“And you’re the best behaved,” Claire teases.

“Right.” My sigh makes her giggle again. She’s ridiculously cute. “Our little sister is a terror. If Delaney had been the firstborn, Caine and I wouldn’t have survived to adulthood.”

“That’s an awful way to talk about your sister.” Claire sounds like she’s holding back a laugh.

“You say that, but…” I fake a shudder.

“Where’s she at? And what does she do?” Claire arches an eyebrow. “Make fur coats out of puppies?”

“You won’t believe me.”

Claire waits.

“She’s in Montana. She’s a biologist, studies and tracks the grizzly bear population out there. Lives in a cabin by herself most of the year.”

Shifting to sit on top of the counter, Claire drums her heels against the cabinet door. “That’s awesome. Would she be mad you punched a bear?”

My laugh is sheepish. “She’d be more pissed that I had us out there without bear spray.” It’s the truth, and a reminder of another way I’ve let Claire down, even if she doesn’t realize it.

“Bet she deals with a lot of ticks.” Swinging her leg sideways, she gently kicks my calf. Claire touching me first is a new experience. The playfulness of the act sends a lightning bolt of excitement straight to my cock.

Not now.

Subtly adjusting myself, I chuckle, trying not to make it obvious I’m getting turned on by her platonic touch.

“Caine said he came to see Gretchen?”

Looks like I’m sharing more Underwood family lore with Claire. “Yeah, she’s moving to New York next month to live with her daughter.”

How much do I want to tell Claire?

Enough to make us make sense.

It’s the least I can do considering I overshared our arrangement with Caine.

“Gretchen was my mom’s best friend. She has a daughter Delaney’s age.

They grew up together, so Gretchen was always around.

Mom died when Delaney was ten. Dad was…not great even when she was alive, but after she died, he was so much worse.

Caine and I were in high school, and we tried to help Delaney through it, but we weren’t doing great ourselves. ”

I don’t want to bury Claire under an avalanche of traumatic backstory, but it feels important that she understand my family.

“Gretchen basically raised Delaney—she was there for Caine and me too. When her last husband died, she was going to have to go back to work. But she has arthritis, and the flare-ups are awful. She wouldn’t let me give her the money…

” I’m rambling and uncomfortable, unsure how to explain.

Claire saves me. “So you figured out a way to give her the money without giving her the money.”

I nod.

Why am I so embarrassed by this?

Leaning her shoulder against mine, she gives me a soft nudge. “That’s very kind.” Then she laughs. “Why does she call you Mr. Underwood sometimes?”

My groan is genuine. “It’s Margot’s fault. She kept calling me that when I first hired her—I still can’t get her to stop—and Gretchen got a kick out of it.” Rubbing a hand over my face, I add, “Now she does it to be a pain. I’m tormented in my own home.”

“Maybe I’ll start calling you Mr. Underwood.” Claire sounds so serious that I jerk my head up to look at her.

“Don’t you dare .”

“Might be fun.” Her words are light and breathy, the corner of her mouth tightening with a laugh she’s fighting back. “Oh no, Mr. Underwood, there’s nowhere else to run. What are you going to do to me?”

My cock twitches to attention, stiffening absurdly fast because there are so many things I want to do to her. I could take her on the table. Bend her over the counter. Press her against the wall. I want to do it all. Badly.

Pink tongue darting across her bottom lip, Claire holds eye contact.

I drop my voice. “I’m going to lay you out on the table and feast. Devour you, bite by delicious bite.”

Her sharp intake of breath makes me squirm, and I don’t miss the way her thighs tense on the counter beside me.

I think she’d let me.

She’d let me fuck her inside.

No hunt.

No chase.

Need surges through me, and I’m leaning in, because if she’d let me do that, what else would she let me do?

Her lips part slightly. Our faces are shifting, moving incrementally closer.

She smells like coffee and Claire, and I’ve never wanted to taste anything as badly as I want to taste her tongue right now.

I’ve tasted her sweat, her blood, and her arousal.

For all the things I’ve done to her, every way I’ve enjoyed her body, I’ve never kissed her on the mouth.

Do it.

I want it more than my next breath. I’m going to kiss her, right here in my kitchen.

I’m also going to hope I don’t come in my pants because my cock aches as if it’s been weeks since I’ve fucked her, instead of days.

Eyelashes fluttering, Claire’s face softens.

I’m angling my head, high on the realization that I am about to do something I want to do so badly, something that isn’t a contractual obligation on her part. Maybe this means—

“Shane, what are we doing for dinner?” Caine’s voice carries from outside the kitchen.

Claire startles, eyes flying open as she straightens back. I stifle a groan, turning to see my brother and Margot enter. Angling my hips to try to hide my erection from their view forces me to move toward Claire.

Maybe she won’t notice I’m hard.

The smothered giggle she makes lets me know she does.

Great.

“I don’t know.” I try not to sound as frustrated as I feel. “Haven’t thought about it yet.”

Margot clears her throat pointedly. At first , I think it’s for me. That my cock has somehow detached itself from my body and is making a run for Claire, audience be damned. I wouldn’t blame it.

Then Caine works a hand through his messy hair, offering an apologetic smile.

“Sorry I was an ass. I couldn’t help myself. Please tell me you see the joke potential, though; it’s endless.” He gives Claire a pleading look that makes me shake my head.

Margot sniffs. “That’s not a very good apology.”

He looks at her. “I told you, I’m shit at apologizing.”

Margot’s retort is flat. “Since you can’t keep your feet out of your mouth, I’d expect you to be better at it by now.”

Beside me, Claire giggles again. “It’s okay. It caught me off guard because I didn’t know you knew, but we’re all good.” She gives Caine a thumbs-up. “Joke away.”

“No,” Margot says at the same time as I say, “Don’t you dare.”

Caine’s shit-eating grin makes it clear he won’t be listening to either of us. But Claire’s relaxed, the tension from earlier melted away. I listen to her tease Caine about making a bad first impression, with Margot chiming in to gang up on him.

Warmth spreads through me that has nothing to do with arousal.

Settling bone-deep, a sense of rightness fills me.

It’s as if I’ve jumped from a helicopter and landed exactly on target, that this is where I’m supposed to be.

I’ve only ever felt this way at work—when I settle into that rhythm where everything clicks.

Experiencing it when I’m not working is strange.

I don’t understand it, but I like it. I like it so much, it concerns me.