Page 12 of Claimed by Him

Seven

When he didn’t automatically start readingme my rights, I took that as a good sign and opened the door.

“Come in,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t betray how nervous I felt. Just because he hadn’t arrested me yet didn’t mean he wasn’t there because someone at the FBI had changed their mind about pressing charges.

“Nice place,” Clay said as he followed me inside. “Much better than the dorms at Quantico.”

I set down my papers and turned to give him a hard look. “Why are you here, Clay?” I held up a hand when he opened his mouth. I needed to clarify before he said something that made me want to smack him. “And don’t tell me you came for me unless you want to explain exactly what you mean by that.”

He looked puzzled, but not guilty, which I took as another good sign. I wasn’t going to be completely at ease, though, until I heard the whole story.

“The last time I saw you, you were being escorted off campus with all of your things. I tried contacting you, but you wouldn’t respond. You disappeared without an explanation.”

Now I was the one feeling guilty. “I got kicked out.”

“Fuck,” he said in a long, low voice. “What the hell, Rona?”

“How much did Anton tell you about our family? About why I was living with him?”

“He didn’t. But I don’t see the connection.”

I sighed and rubbed my hand over my face. I didn’t want to have this conversation. “If I tell you that I lied about something on my application, something from my past, but that I didn’t want to talk about it, would you accept that?”

He closed the distance between us and took my hand, squeezing it. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

I made myself meet his gaze, even as the emotion I saw there made me uncomfortable. “Not this. Not now.”

I saw a flash of hurt, but it was gone almost faster than I registered it. He released my hand and wrapped his arms around me. “Okay then.”

“Okay?”

He nodded, then bent his head and brushed his lips across mine. “Okay. No more questions. As long as you know you can come to me if you need to.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I doubted I’d ever want to tell him what had happened in any more detail than I just had. I liked him, I really did, but it wasn’t going to happen.

So I gave him the one thing I could.

Me.

I crashed my mouth into his, my teeth bruising against my lips. I felt his surprise for a moment, and then he reacted the way he always had when we came together like this.

He palmed my ass, pulling me tighter against him. I pulled at his shirt, eager to feel his skin, to lose myself in him the way I had before. There’d probably end up being fallout when we were done, but right now, I didn’t care. I hadn’t let myself admit how much I’d missed him until now. We’d only slept together those couple months while we were in Virginia, but he’d been in and out of my life for years. Not enough to be a constant, but definitely enough for me to be able to count on him.

His mouth made its way down my jaw, his teeth scraping against my skin. His fingers moved across the skin at the top of my jeans before sliding under my shirt, fingers skimming the sliver of revealed flesh there. I thought for a moment that I’d have to remind him that the shirt stayed on, but then he turned me around and pulled me back against him. His cock was hard against my ass, and when he kissed the spot under my ear, a shiver ran through me.

I closed my eyes, letting my head fall to the side as he kissed his way down my neck. One arm stayed around my waist while he shoved his free hand down the front of my pants. I let out a yelp that turned into a whimper as his fingers plunged between my folds. I was barely damp, and the extra friction took my breath away. I gasped and squirmed, but he held me tight, forcing me toward climax with rough, abrupt strokes.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I panted, reaching behind me to grab at his leg. “Clay…”

His name ended in a cry as painful pleasure burst inside me, sending electricity racing across my nerves.

“There’s one,” he said with a smug smile. “Point the way to your bedroom, and we’ll see how many more we can get.”

* * *

The answer turnedout to be two more, for a total of three. I had to admit, there was something to be said for not being on a timetable.

“You’ve got a nice ceiling.”

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