Page 152 of Frozen Flames

He chuckles lightly—darkly—as if he knows what he’s doing to me. I bring my face next to his and bask in the feeling of this closeness as he traces his fingers down the side of my neck.

Finally, I get some relief when his lips embrace mine, and we kiss for an eternity.

I don’t want it to end.

All I want to do is feel his kisses on my mouth, on my body.

I grab on to his hair, deepening the kiss, my fingers then moving down to trace his five-o’clock shadow, holding on to his face for dear life.

He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me tightly toward him, until all I can think about and want is to be as close to this man as I possibly can. I would crawl inside his skin if I could, if only for a moment, to merge and become one with him.

I love this man in the deepest recesses of my soul. And I intend to bring that love to the surface with every moment I spend with him.

Cherishing him. Loving him. Supporting him.

It starts raining rather suddenly, so we pack everything up quickly and make our way back to his van, soaking wet.

Once we’re settled in our seats, we don’t hesitate. He turns to me, and we start making out again. This time ferociously, without holding back now that we’re alone. We kiss, and we pull each other’s hair, and our softs moans echo into each other’s mouths.

God. I want him, I want him, I want him.

“I don’t want to stay away from you any longer, Claire.”

“Then don’t,” I say breathlessly, knowing how this will end if we keep going.

We stare at one another, sensuality oozing between us, and he’s looking at me as if he wants to make a wife out of me.

Harvey

I’ve been on many other dates with Claire. We spent so much of our time indoors when our relationship started that I know she must be happy to do other things together now. It’s been two weeks since our picnic date, and I can barely go a day without seeing her.

Today’s Sunday, and it hasn’t stopped raining since this morning. Claire planned for us to make homemade pasta for dinner, and honestly, it’s the perfect day to do it.

Henrik walks out of his room, and a strong whiff of cologne follows him.

“You’re supposed to spray the cologne, not drown in it,” I remark.

He laughs and gives me the finger before he pockets his wallet. “Don’t wait up for me tonight.”

“I think it’s fair to say I’ve stopped waiting for you.”

“What can I say?” He shrugs. “We can’t all live my glorious life.”

I know it’s his life, but I worry about him sometimes. He’s my little brother. I introduced him to the party scene as soon as he started college, and it makes me wonder if I played a role in all of this. I know it’s normal to have sex, but there’s a difference between that and masking your problems with sex.

Or maybe he truly is happy and I should leave him alone.

When Hen leaves, I go back to my room and spend the afternoon sketching, waiting for Claire. I’m drawing a lot morenow. The creativity’s flowing out of me. I even ordered painting tools and canvases online to start painting.

I figured I’d take my art to the next level.

When Claire arrives, she comes equipped with food. We start prepping the dough together, and I watch her knead the dough as if she’s done this many times.

She’s wearing a light green sundress, and it looks perfect with her red hair. I help her out as much as I can while standing, like I promised myself I would.

I can do this.

I can stand and walk around slowly and cook with the woman I love.

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