Arlene huffed. “You’re so impatient.”
I was aware of it. At least she picked something that was actually true—unlike Clay, who just called everyone dramatic for sport.
“Your point?” I teased either way.
It really was fun to get her all bothered, whether it was a sexual thing or not. Actually, I might enjoy it more when it wasn’t in the middle of sex and orgasms. I thought faster, and that meant I registered things more sharply, too.
Like the way heat spread across her cheeks, and how she tried to pout, but it didn’t really work out.
“Whatever,” she mumbled before meeting my gaze with hers. “But, to answeryour question, I just wanted to feel close to you. It’s embarrassing to say, but I think it settles me, and… Yeah.”
Fuck.
Note to self, do not ask things when you’re not sure you’re ready to hear the answer.
“Come here.”
I expected confusion, but her face just glazed over as she obeyed.
Yeah, I could see how power could get to people’s heads.
“Good girl.”
THIRTEEN
Arlene
Truthfully, I didn’t know how I managed to go to Claude. My knees felt as weak as they’d ever felt. What was walking, anyway? We might’ve just been less than two inches apart, but it seemed like more. Or maybe it was just the symbolism I hadn’t been ready for. This was just… something new we were trying out. I might not be a relationship guru, but no one had told me it would feel this way.
And when they praised me? I suddenly understood all the videos, and all the Xena fanfics I’d shamefully read underneath the covers while I was growing up. Back then, I hadn’t realized what a foundational experience that would be.
I didn’t have a lot of time to wander in my head, though. Claude’s hands were on me, gripping my waist over the corset—the one that had felt fine when Dylan tightened it, but all of a sudden now felt suffocating.
I needed out.
This time, the urgency settling in my belly was not a result of anxiety. I didn’t feel out of air because I was on the verge of a panic attack.
I did need to feel closer to Claude, though. I just hadn’t realized it was going to turn me into a live wire.
“Please,” I breathed out the word. The next thing I knew, their lips were on mine. I faltered backwards. They were guiding me to the bed in the middle of the room with so many details in red velvet that it made me regret I couldn’t do a transatlantic accent because it would totally fit the vibe. “Claude.”
“And I’m the impatient one.” They tutted playfully. “I think you should show me how you fuck yourself.”
“I should?” My lips parted, and my head tilted back.
I didn’t even know what they meant, or where the request had come from. I only knew there was little I’d say no to—and for most of those things, I felt safe in the knowledge that Claude wouldn’t ask them of me.
“You should.” Claude’s hands traced a line from my knees to my inner thighs, their fingers nimble and teasing, barely grazing the skin at times, and digging more purposefully at others. “You brought this upon yourself, really.”
I had?
“I did?”
Claude just hummed. There seemed to be a perpetual smirk etched on their face when it came to me. I liked it, in a strange turn of events. Or maybe it wasn’t so strange. I wouldn’t know, would I?
I didn’t even know what I was saying. Following trails of thoughts was hard when a fog seemed to cloud over everything.
“You’re the one who told me you enjoyed it, and I told you I was curious about it.”