“I don’t think it works like that, Chance,” Claire said and stepped away from him. “They are married now, and we are a family.”
“That’s just a technicality,” Chance pleaded. “Who knows if they will even last?”
Claire thought about that for a moment. It had been five years since her mother had been with anyone, and she had just had her heart broken by the man she was supposed to marry. “It just seems selfish to take all of this away from her, you know.”
“What? They are the selfish ones. They ran off and got married without our knowledge,” Chance persisted.
“Chance, let’s just forget about this,” she said dejectedly and sat on the bed. She curled her legs under her and hugged the pillow. “It was only meant to last for a short while anyway, and it did. We have to coexist now as a family. My mother would be so disappointed if she knew I was seeing you after this.”
“Claire, they don’t have to know,” he said. He sat next to her on the bed. “I am sure my dad will go to his estate in Los Angeles, and I have my own place. We’ll just hold them off until we figure out what to do.”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “This is just too much for me.”
Chance silenced her with a kiss, and though she tried to be reasonable and logical, there was no denying how she felt about him. At the moment, she completely understood why her mother and his father had married so quickly. She slowly eased into his kiss, and he buried his face in her neck. He nuzzled her skin, and Claire’s head fell back; she enjoyed the way his touch lingered on her skin and warmed her from heel to crown. She gripped a handful of his hair as he found her lips, and even then, she tried to talk her way out of it, but Chance would have none of it.
“Just be here with me in this moment,” he whispered against her skin. His breath tickled her, and she shivered. He held her forearm and eased her back onto the bed.
“No, Chance,” she tried to say between kisses, but all he did was place his forefinger on her lips and kiss her smooth ivory skin.
“Shh,” he followed up.
She gripped his neck and pulled him closer as her breathing intensified, and she could no longer deny her instincts. She straightened and wrapped her legs around him, and he slid his hand underneath her, resting his palm flat at the base of her spine. He writhed on top of her; he could feel her body responding to him, and suddenly that wasn’t enough for her anymore.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked even as she struggled to take his clothes off.
“Absolutely,” he told her and held his hands up to accommodate her effort. He stepped back and yanked the dress off her, leaving nothing between him and the honeyed pleasure he was desperate to taste again.
Claire gripped his hips and with wild eyes pleaded with him to take her. He drove into her like he was sprinting towards the end of a marathon and was anxious he would be overtaken by a competitor. Such was the urgency of their need as she spread her legs to receive him and he sank all the way into her. Claire screamed and dug her nails into his flesh as he ravaged her, but she was open to this kind of abuse and begged him to go harder. And faster. She held his hips and kept him inside her, burying him deep when he plunged, and Chance bellowed like a wild animal as he took her.
Not long after they had begun, he could feel the blood rushing below, and he closed his eyes and squeezed her breasts and filled her with his love. As Claire came, she wrapped her legs around him even tighter and took it all as if she would never taste him again.
When he lay next to her afterwards, his chest heaving, she knew she could never be away from him. He made her come alive when she didn’t even know she had died. She looked over at him and grinned, and he stroked her face with his forefinger. They both smiled at each other. Something about their taboo relationship made having sex with each other so much more spectacular.
***
Claire’s mother paid her a visit the following morning. Willow stood there with her arms folded across her chest and watched Claire walk around the room like she wasn’t there.
“Are you going to talk to me?” she finally asked.
“That depends,” Claire responded. She pulled on her summer dress and caught her hair at her nape with a scrunchie.
“On what?” Willow asked. She tried to go to her, but Claire sidestepped her and went to the balcony instead.
“How do you just run off and get married to a man you only met a week ago?” Claire asked, turning to her mother with disgust. “Did you forget what the last divorce felt like? Did you forget your promise not to get close to any man like that again? Was it his money that caught your eye?”
“You’re pushing it, missy,” Willow admonished her daughter. “I remember what I said, but sometimes things change. I love Bryan.”