Page 130 of Inflame

I smell him before I feel him collide with me and push me back against the wall. His lips crash into mine and he takes and keeps taking. He lifts me a foot off the ground and my legs wrap around his midsection. My hands run all over his back, scratching and clawing to get him closer to me. He licks every drop of gloss off my lips and when he has his fill, he pulls back to smile wickedly at me.

“Hope you enjoyed yourself,” I state sarcastically.

His cock twitches through the fabric of his suit. “Not nearly as much as you probably did. Let’s take a look.”

Nic keeps my ass balanced on one forearm, as he continues walking deeper into his home. I kiss at his neck, biting a little to make him squirm. Just when I think we are going to make it to his bedroom, he throws me down on the sofa and is peeling my yoga pants off my body. It is not a slow and seductive dance. No, this is primal and hurried. Like if he doesn’t get more of my body, he will die a starving man.

I lift up on my elbows and watch as Nic struggles with the damn pants. His grunts of struggle are met with the sound of seams ripping.

“Hey! These are my lucky pants!”

“They are about to be yourget luckypants,” he corrects, tearing the fabric from my body.

Nic gets up from his knees and starts tossing every article of clothing from his body. Belt, pants, boxers, suit coat, dress shirt, undershirt, and his socks are all removed. He stands naked before me and I am enthralled. My eyes cannot stop looking, so I don’t even try to hide my blatant perusal of his body. His eyes smolder, and in this moment, I feel like a seductress and a princess—all wrapped up in the package of a gym logo T-shirt. That is what Nic does to me, though. He makes me feel wanted even in a ratty cotton shirt with fraying graphics. I lift it above my head, but leave on my bra and panties. They are nothing special. Just a spare set I had at the gym in my locker. Black and stretchy.

“Stand up,” Nic directs, offering assistance.

His hands reach up to my breasts, weighing them between his big hands. I hope they are enough. I hope I am enough. And then slowly and methodically, he helps me remove the last bits of fabric that keep me concealed from his eyes.

Pulling me to him by my hips, Nic reaches up his fingers to tug my lip that I didn’t know I was chewing out from underneath the cage of my teeth. He leans his long body down to eye level and blinks hard. His tongue slips out of his mouth and he closes in on me, licking along the exact place where I was gnawing. I no longer smell the scent of vanilla. Nic swallowed that up in the foyer. Instead, I have the intoxicating scent of citrus and wood surrounding me.

I groan loudly and start to climb up his body. His hands lift me from my ass, squeezing my plump naked flesh. I wrap my legs around his waist and rub my bare crotch against his erection. I can feel movement but am too in the moment to realize what he’s doing. I claw at his hair, messing it up even more. My lips are on his neck, teasing and playing with his smooth skin.

I gasp when my bare shoulders hit the coolness of the windows, feeling my body pressed flat against the glass.

“I want you,” I breathe, “so badly.”

I open my eyes long enough to see Nic’s hood over with desire. I want him. Like I have wanted no one else—ever. And I want himnow.

I push the feeling into the back of my head that our newly developing relationship is just for sexual gratification. I know there is more to it. A man doesn’t go out of his way to feed a woman or care for her if it is just to get his rocks off. Yet, here I am, smashed up against a glass window overlooking Portland, while Nic plasters himself to my body. There is no place I’d rather be than here, sliding down onto his cock, screaming his name.

37

NIC

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the little arrangement I made with Claire. It’s not like I planned it this way—things just happened organically. For the past two weeks, we have been fooling ourselves into thinking we aren’t cohabitating together—when in fact that is exactly what we are doing. Every day at the end of the work shift, she attempts to go back to her shared loft. And then every day, she somehow ends up at my place.

I mean, I’m pretty irresistible. My words—not hers.

In fact, Claire hasn’t been to the loft since I made a surprise visit and saw just how inappropriate her cheese-puff roommate Henry was being. Fucker better be glad I was having a good day. First thing I would have annihilated would have been his roaming eyes. Followed by the snipping of every one of his vocal cords. Just the way he said her name with a weird accent was enough to send me to the red zone. In my defense, the dude is the self-proclaimed King of One-Night Stands. Yeah, he even got shirts made.

Claire doesn’t belong at the loft sleeping on some worn out futon, when I have a whole apartment that her body can make look better. Since we started our unofficial arrangement, we have experienced the sofa, the kitchen island, my workout room, and the elevator. Even when I think we have fucked each other to boredom, she will surprise me with a naughty text at work, that will nearly always lead to a trip to my place—and the removal of all the clothes.

She has even resorted to being creative and sending me dick appointments via text, where I have to accept or decline based on the date, time, and location. Like I would ever saynoto her. Her appetite for sex rivals my own—and that is saying something.

Claire is the joy and excitement my life didn’t realize it was lacking until she danced her way into it. I have never been with someone so sexually liberating and confident. Claire doesn’t give a shit if the lights are on or off. Clothed or naked. Hairy or bare. She finds it thrilling if neighboring buildings may see her sexy silhouette in the window, as I thrust deep inside her. Just when I think she is satisfied, she will flash me the killer smile that lets me know just how hungry she is for me.

Despite me making it a mission to keep things casual, Claire’s belongings are scattering across every room and into every crevice with each passing day. Her organic vegan protein powders have made the front row in my drink mix cupboard. Her hair ties are circling knobs in the bathroom. My workout room is full of her bright-colored outfits draped over equipment, from our latest romps while trying to break a sweat.

I have gotten used to leaving work at a decent hour, instead of living there. Claire has given me a reason to focus on something other than my career. We have been running in the mornings, hitting up local coffee shops, and laughing over the hideous movies she picks out. Her taste is eclectic, and I love trying to keep up with her desires. I have even been teaching her a few wrestling moves on the mats laid out in my home gym. She is a ball of energy, and I have zero intention of trying to tame her. I welcome her spunk—in and out of the bedroom.

How we are able to keep our arrangement a secret is the most mind-boggling. Graham and Angie are just weeks away from the wedding, and their lives are consumed with honeymoon details, dress fittings, and last-minute changes to the plans. It’s not like I need to hide anything from my brother, but I know he would not approve of me having this type of no-strings-attached fling with his fiancée’s best friend. He already could tell I was attracted to Claire and made it clear that I was to keep it cordial.

I know how this will end.It will end. I just want to live in this fantasy a little longer before all ties get cut and emotions inevitably become complicated.

Claire knows the score. She has been very careful not to show me too much attention at work. We have similar desires of keeping our fling on the down low.

I doubt she knows how much I watch her on the camera footage, and I know for certain she is unaware that I track her whereabouts. Running into her throughout the building can’t all be random occurrences. She is smarter than to believe it is. However, outside of HH, she probably has no idea to what extent I pay attention to her location. The tracking has become a security blanket for me, under the shield that I am doing a favor for Graham.

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