He smiled.
She was exhausted and irritated and he probably shouldn’t have found anything she said the least bit funny. But she was just so lovely when she was riled up. It was his favorite version of Claire.
A small, silent laugh escaped his lips when her face lit up.
“You’re smiling,” she said, her own lips tipping up. “Your jaw is better?”
He nodded.
“Well. There’s one good thing from this day, at least. Well, that and chips and salsa.” She twisted her lips to the side and lowered her lashes a little. “I’m not sure which is better, actually. Thank you, Graham.”
She continued to look at him, more at his mouth than anywhere else, and he took his chance.
His hips leaned against the counter, keeping him upright. He angled his head to the side and held out his hand, palm up, gesturing with his index finger. Come here.
Her brows furrowed and she approached him, stopping two feet away. He made the motion one more time.
Closer.
She took another step.
It was enough for him to keep one hand on the counter for balance, lean forward to slip the other around her neck and pull her flush against his body.
Her breath caught, her lips parted, and she turned those hazel eyes on him.
Thank you, he mouthed.
“For what?”
His hands were occupied, and with no other method of communication, he just looked at her, his gaze canvassing her face, enjoying the color rising in her cheeks. She probably knew, anyway.
She swallowed, putting a gentle hand on his chest and moving it in a soft, tiny circle. Her eyes dropped there as she spoke again. “Are we, um, starting our arrangement? Are you sure that’s a good idea right now?”
He waited until their gazes locked and nodded, lowering his head.
Yes and hell yes.
Hesitation was nonexistent. She met him partway, lifting up and molding her mouth with his. Her body melted into him, and he wished he could wrap his other arm around her waist. But he couldn’t risk falling right now and moving backward in his recovery.
Especially now that he’d gotten to this point. He might not be able to do everything he wanted with her, but if he could kiss her without pain, he was damn sure gonna do it. As much as possible. Because kissing Claire was like crossing the finish line and looking back to find you won the race.
Exhilarating, satisfying perfection.
This kiss wasn’t as forceful as the first. The second one hadn’t gone far enough to gauge, but this one was unhurried, thorough, and indulgent.
Her palms traveled across his chest, sending heat barreling through his veins as they continued up the sides of his neck and slid into his hair. Her nails lightly traced his scalp and suddenly he was back in that chair, shirtless, with her hands working their magic. This was what he’d wanted to do immediately after.
She’d wanted it, too.
Tongues slipped past lips and breath mingled. Hearts pounded and pulses raced, and Graham had to back off soon before he did something senseless like try to carry her to his bedroom, or twist around to lift her on the counter.
He brought his hand around to the front of her neck, his thumb tracing her collarbone as he pulled back.
Damn. He’d thought kissing her would be enough, but he wanted more.
He wanted it all.
He hated his broken leg more in this moment than any other.
The soft sound she made with her exhale nearly did him in. She must have caught the flash of need in his eyes, because she took a step back, giving them both room to breathe.
She chewed on her lower lip. “Well. Should we eat?”
It wasn’t what he wanted to do next, but he nodded and gave himself a minute before he pushed off and took a seat at the table.
Claire chattered about her day while they ate. Graham was more than content to sit and listen to her.
Gertrude sat near his feet, giving him huge round eyes that he’d never been able to resist, and he periodically slipped her small pieces of his food.
When they got in bed that night they finished up her online dating profile and, after she’d spent ten minutes reviewing everything, hit Submit. She turned wide eyes on him and said, “This is it. I might have just started a connection with the man of my dreams.”
Graham wasn’t quite so optimistic. Yeah, he’d heard of success stories from online dating, but he’d also heard several shitty ones.
Maybe she’d let him review her matches before contacting them, sort of like how they worked while they were out.
Claire closed her laptop and set it on the nightstand. She turned out the lamp and scooted closer to him. He couldn’t sleep on his side, but he turned his head to meet her eyes.
“It’s probably weird to say this after setting up a profile to meet other men, and a terrible idea to suggest it when we’re horizontal. But I’m the kind of girl who asks for what she wants, and all I want to do right now is kiss you again.” She dropped her gaze briefly. “Feel free to turn me down. I won’t be offended.”
He reached out, tipped her chin up with his finger, and shot her an incredulous look. He wanted to tell her he’d have to be dead to not want to kiss her.
When she gave him a small smile that was...not quite shy, but not a standard, confident Claire smile, he leaned as far as he could to rest his hand on the small of her back and tucked her close against his side.
He brushed his nose against hers and she parted her lips, eyes falling closed. He wasted no time with pleasantries and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. She let out a moan and enthusiastically returned his fervor, sliding one hand under his shirt as their mouths crashed together. His body went taut when she went up on her elbow to prop herself above him, pressing her breasts into his arm.
Not being able to flip her over, climb on top of her writhing body, and feel her pleasure beneath him was straight up going to kill him.
Just as the thought grabbed hold, another one popped up, this one unfamiliar and intriguing.
Savor her.
The concept was like a shock to his system, and he switched gears. Hot, urgent, and fast was for another time. A time when he had a voice, because he wanted to talk to her. Tell her how it felt, ask what she liked.
They were just getting started and learning about each other. And he couldn’t ignore his physical limitations. A night like this was for intention. Touching. Tasting.
This experience with Claire wasn’t a night out at a club downing shots and cutting loose on the dance floor. No, this was a trip to wine country with meandering bike rides down country roads and hours-long tastings and food pairings to satisfy the palate.
“Damn, Graham. I hope my future husband is as good at this as you are,” she murmured against his mouth.
Her words gave birth to a strange, unwelcome sensation in his gut. He pushed it deep down, as far as it would go, and went in for more.
He was well aware of what they were doing and the boundaries, both spoken and unspoken. It was just...he was so comfortable with Claire, and this newfound discovery of their sexual chemistry was intoxicating. If she found another man she wanted to marry, he’d be happy for her and wish her the best.
But until then...what they had going was perfect for him, and part of him hoped that wouldn’t change anytime soon.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Bored again
Claire,
Another Google suggestion for journal topics is the high and low of your day.
High: I woke up with you curled up against my side. Don’t get weird about it, I’m not. I’ve just always liked sharing my bed with someone else. Women, preferably, but I won’t lie and say Nathan, Noah, and I never cuddled for body heat when camping in the winter. Anyway, it was nice, and I’d like to make a motion we keep that up even when I get my voice back.
Yes, I realize I’ll need to bring that up IRL at some point, because you’ll never read this.