Page 65 of Easton

“Well, maybe it should be,” I spit out.

That catches her off guard, as she has nothing to say, no smart retort, not a thing.

I take a step closer till she moves to one step above me.

We’re now face-to-face, both of us worked up and breathing hard.

Her eyes meet mine, and the anger within them in is palpable.

But there’s also lust and confusion.

That calms me down.

She bites her lip, and I blow out a breath. “Look, Claire—”

Placing one finger over my mouth, like she’s shushing me, she says, “Easton, just shut up. For once, stop.”

I do.

Slowly, she trails her finger over my lips.

What is happening here?

I’m confused as she leans in and presses her mouth to mine, kissing me softly at first, then more demandingly.

Okay, now I’m not confused.

I open my mouth, and our tongues intertwine.

And it is fucking divine.

Finally, I’m kissing Claire the way I’ve wanted to for ages.

As we relax, she presses her breasts against me.

All I want to do is rip this damn T-shirt up and over my head.

Hey, I think I will.

I break from kissing Claire just long enough to ditch the tee.

And then my lips are back on hers.

She pushes into me again, and I realize she’s untied the bikini top and let it drop to the step she’s on.

Suddenly, her bare skin and pert nipples are rubbing against my bare chest.

Fuck.

That’s it.

I reach down to grab her supple ass and give her cheeks a squeeze, something I’ve wanted to do since she stomped away from the pool.

I then step back, pick Claire up, and carry her up to my bedroom.

This is our time, at last, and nothing is going to stop what’s about to happen.

Only she can.

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