Clipped Wings (Clipped Wings, #1)

“Holy shit,” I groaned, grabbing the seat so I didn’t succumb to the urge to hold on to her hair and push her down. I came violently, my head smacking off the window.

When I was sucked dry, Tenley released my dick and gave the tip a lick. I made a weak sound of protest because it was so damn sensitive. She sat back on her heels, swollen lips turned up in a satisfied grin. I rolled my head in her direction, so relaxed I could barely move.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I muttered.

“But aren’t you glad I did?”

“Mm.” I motioned for her to come closer and pulled her in for a kiss. “Want to come up to my place? When I recover, I can show you how glad I am.”

Tenley sat back on her heels, her expression one of shock. “You’re inviting me over?”

I frowned. “We can go back to your place if you want—”

“No, no! It’s just . . . you’ve never asked me over before.” Her eyes dropped and she twisted her hands in her lap.

She was right. I hadn’t. Not once. I’d made myself at home in her space, reorganized everything from her cupboards to her linen closet to suit my needs. If I wasn’t buying her groceries outright, we were shopping for them together. Aside from the past week, I hadn’t slept in my own bed more than a handful of times since we’d started this thing. So why hadn’t I invited her to my place?

It wasn’t because I didn’t like having people over. Chris, Jamie, and Lisa used to come to my place all the time before Tenley happened. Granted, they were my closest friends and they knew what I was like, so they didn’t razz me too much about my anal retentivity. Nate would probably tell me it was an attempt to keep some distance. Self-protection or some bullshit psycho-babble. Except this time it seemed like it might be true, which was a fucking joke. The past few days in my condo had sucked ass because I hadn’t been with her.

I wanted her in my space. I wanted her in my bed, the smell of her shampoo on my pillows, and the scent of her lotion clinging to my sheets.

I picked up her hand and brought it to my lips. “Well, that needs to change.”





32





TENLEY





The windows were foggy and the car smelled like sex, even though we hadn’t technically had any. I hoped that would change once we got to his place.

He tucked himself away and zipped his fly. Shifting around, he pressed his face against the back of the passenger seat and fumbled with the release lever. It gave way and the seat folded forward, taking Hayden with it. He grinned dopily as he opened the door and practically fell out.

“Are you okay?” I asked, climbing after him.

He hopped to his feet and brushed off his pants. “I’m good.”

I’d never seen Hayden embarrassed before, or exhibiting any clumsiness. It was reassuring to know I affected him in such a way, especially since his experience far outweighed mine. Score one for putting into practice information gleaned from Cosmopolitan magazine.

We took the stairs to the second floor and stopped in front of unit 222. Hayden unlocked the door.

“Uh, can you wait here a second? I just want to make sure it’s not a mess.” His eyes shifted around like he was nervous.

He started down the hall, stopped abruptly, and turned with a shake of his head. He pulled me inside, twisted the dead bolt, and slid the chain lock into place. Unlacing his shoes, he took them off, opened the closet, and placed them neatly inside before closing the door again.

“I’ll be right back.” He kissed my cheek and left me there before disappearing to the right when he reached the end of the hall.

I shrugged out of my jacket and opened the closet door. Inside were a number of coats for various types of weather, the fall and winter ones most accessible. A rack of shoes lined the floor, the heels perfectly aligned. The upper shelving contained boxes, arranged with the same symmetry. Not a thing out of place, nothing jammed in the back. I’d never seen a closet so organized.

I hung up my coat and removed my shoes, putting them beside Hayden’s before I closed the door. He returned a few seconds later.

“All clear.” He rubbed his palms on his pants and took my hand.

The hall was painted a soft gray, a large antique mirror the only thing breaking up the color. The floors were dark hardwood, gleaming under the warm light thrown off by the ornate chandelier hanging above. I followed him around the corner and stopped short at the sight of the open concept living space. The muted gray color scheme continued throughout.

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