Page 68 of Brazen Mistakes

A hint of pink colors her cheeks, and I know she’s remembering the time shedidmanage to move me with a good shove, but ended up gloriously fucking naked in the hallway.

And now I’m remembering how soft her skin looked, how badly I wanted to ignore all the chains that keep me from losing my shit and instead stretch her over the bathroom counter and take what I want. What she’s offered.

Which reminds me of the time I loosened those chains and fingered her in a fucking study room, and how her scent stuck to my hand for hours after.

My fucking cock was sore for days.

And right as my cock gets on board with my damn wet dream of a trip down memory lane, Clara steps up to me, one hand on my shoulder, the other sliding into my left hand.

God-fucking-damn-it.

“Like this?” she asks.

No. Not like this. Like you plastered against the wall while I make you scream, the chained beast in me screams. I swallow back the urge to just let go, then fix both of her hands until they’re right, pretending that being this close, that touching, is just business.

It’s not.

It never has been with her.

Having her naked, glistening pussy sprung on me after midnight two nights ago? I should get some kind of fucking trophy for self-restraint.

But I’m not running away. I can’t. I don’t know exactly what my father is up to, but if he wants to meet Clara, she has tobe the version of her my father won’t find offensive. Or God forbid, intriguing.

She’ll have to be nothing but pretty, a docile doll with no aspirations or goals for herself. She’ll need to blend in with a world of mindless gossip and dangerous secrets while not encouraging a second thought.

It’s always better to be invisible than seen in the Westerhouse family.

Making this beautiful, dynamic, brilliant woman invisible might be impossible. But I have to try.

If not for her or for me, then for the rest of my team that has all fallen for her. Her safety is paramount. Their lives matter. So my dick is just going to have to take a backseat and let my brain drive.

“Okay, take those one, two, three steps again so we can get a feeling of how we move together,” I say.

She nods, then takes a few steps with me, her eyes darting from her feet to my chest, to our linked hands. “Where am I supposed to look?”

Fuck. “At me.”

“Oh.” Those dark eyes glow with intention, like always, but this time, all that intention is pointed at me, and I almost forget to breathe.

I manage a shaky one, slowly upping the pressure on her back, controlling our steps, first side to side, then front to back, finally executing a simple four-point turn, her eyes never wavering.

So much emotion there, and I know that too much of mine is showing, too.

The drive to claim her is too much to hide from her intuition. The fear. The fury. The barely contained restraint that I want so fucking badly to throw aside.

She sees it.

Tears collect in her eyes, but they don’t fall. Because she won’t look weak anymore. It’s the bravado that’s gotten her into trouble. The same bravado that’s gotten her out of it, too.

It’s as familiar as my own.

Stepping back, I clench my fists, wishing I could remove the feeling of her skin against mine, the way she moves with me like we were always meant to be a single unit. “That’s good for today. If we want to go shopping, we should head out soon.”

I try not to jump when I see Walker on the couch beside Jansen and RJ, the popcorn long gone.

Worse than me not noticing the change while I was caught up in Clara is the way they’re not joking anymore. Differing degrees of curiosity and pity range on each of their faces, but it’s clear: I couldn’t hide from Clara, and I can’t hide from them.

Clara’s soft touch on my arm brings my attention back to her.

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