Stubborn Hearts (Timid Souls #1)

by Melanie Munton

  Then, the crease in his brow disappeared and he smirked that damn smirk. “You’re into the public stuff, huh? I got to say I’m surprised.”

  I tilted my head and regarded him with curiosity. He seemed awfully interested in my sex life for a guy who said he didn’t care, and by all other accounts, despised me.

  “Only if the time is right,” I replied, my voice coming out lower than I’d intended.

  What the hell am I saying?

  I shouldn’t be encouraging this conversation.

  He’s my boss!

  My extremely hot boss.

  His pupils dilated and his hand tightened on his glass. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he liked that answer. Lie or not, I was proud of myself. I’d never done anything in public before so I wouldn’t know if I was into it or not. It may not have been a lie.

  His eyes remained on mine. They were like a tractor beam and I couldn’t look away. “So,” he said and placed his hand on my thigh underneath the table, “is it the right time?”

  Holy shit.

  He’s touching me.

  He shouldn’t be touching me.

  I don’t want him to stop touching me.

  “I could be persuaded,” I whispered, the sound barely audible over the noise of the bar.

  But I knew he heard it because his hand squeezed my thigh and then started to move down toward the hem of my skirt. My heart was beating so hard in my chest, I thought I was going to pass out. The closer his fingers moved to the bottom of the material, the harsher my breaths came.

  He didn’t remain unaffected either. He was breathing faster, too, and there was a light sheen of sweat below his hairline. I also didn’t miss the way he very casually adjusted himself in his suit pants.

  His fingers finally reached the hem and slid underneath where they grazed the lace at the top of my stockings which were connected to the garter belt that he was now caressing. He closed his eyes and groaned as if in pain. I heard him say, “You’ve got to be kidding me” under his breath but I wasn’t sure if he meant it for my ears or not.

  He leaned even closer to me and if anyone were to look over at us, it would merely look as if David and I were trying to hold a conversation over the noise. But that was most definitely not what we were doing, and it was a miracle that the table was hiding everything. Especially when his fingers started to lightly travel farther up my thigh, inching ever closer to the Promised Land. I instinctively spread my legs to give him better access even though a small part of me told me to stop this now before it went any further.

  His hands felt so good on me, though.

  My eyes fell closed as I luxuriated in the exquisite feelings that were coursing through my system, probably making it obvious what we were doing. Then, they flew open again whenever his fingers reached the edge of my panties and paused.

  My eyes connected with his. He looked as desperate as I felt and I was finding it hard to control the urge to just climb on top of him. Both of our chests were rising and falling rapidly and the air between us was thick with reckless want. His eyes kept flicking down to my lips, my chest, and back up again to my face. It didn’t matter that we were in a room full of people, I felt naked under his gaze. Naked and beautiful.

  “What do you want, Claire?” he whispered. His mouth so close to mine that one small adjustment of his head would bring our lips together.

  I hesitated.

  But only for a second.

  In answer to his question, I moved my hips forward, toward his hand. He got the message and his mouth barely quirked up in a grin before disappearing and once again became a mask of need. His fingers continued their journey and dove underneath my panties.

  I waited to feel his touch on my sensitive folds, but there was a loud bang as a heavy hand smacked the wooden table in front of me, which was followed by Simon yelling, “That’s bullshit!” David immediately pulled his hand out from underneath my skirt, breaking the wonderful trance we’d been in. I quickly adjusted my clothes, trying to make it look as if nothing naughty had been going on underneath the table.

  “Did you see that, Claire?” Simon turned and asked me.

  I smiled and shook my head, hoping the blush I could feel spread from my neck up to my cheeks wasn’t too noticeable. I saw David chug the rest of his drink in my peripheral vision. I wanted to laugh at the situation, at almost being caught doing something so brazen in front of dozens of people.

  But I think we were both too worked up for it to be at all funny.

  I couldn’t believe that I had just let my boss feel me up in a bar, in front of everyone we worked with. Normally, I would never do anything like that but David seemed to bring out a whole different side to me, one I wasn’t very familiar with. But one I was quickly realizing that I liked.

  I needed some distance to figure out what the hell had just happened and whether or not it meant anything.

  And how I should handle this new development in our relationship.

  I tapped Simon on the shoulder to get his attention. “Hey, I’m starting to get a headache. I think I’m just going to head home.”

  He frowned in disappointment but said, “Okay. I can drive you home.”

  He started to get up but I put my hand on his shoulder, stopping him because I could tell he didn’t want to leave yet. “No, no. I’ll be fine on the Metro. You stay here and have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  He nodded his head a bit reluctantly and agreed. I squeezed around David to get out from behind the table, without meeting his eyes, which I could feel were burning holes through my back. I needed to be alone with my thoughts and I knew that if I looked at him, all plans of leaving would be shot to hell.

  I quickly gathered my bag, told everyone goodbye, and then practically ran for the door, as gracefully as my heels would allow. The cold night air was soothing on my heated skin when I stepped outside. I took a few deep breaths and then started walking in the direction of the Metro a couple of blocks down.

  I couldn’t process everything, couldn’t organize all of my thoughts and all of the implications of what had just happened. I didn’t really get far in my attempts either before I heard someone yell “Claire!”

  My head swiveled around to look behind me where I saw David striding toward me with purpose and my heart stuttered. I’m not sure why but I turned back around and kept walking, picking up my pace. I just panicked. We were alone now, away from everyone, and I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to him. We’d have to acknowledge the events at the bar and I wasn’t sure that I was ready for it.

  Or, maybe he wanted more of what we were doing in the bar. Maybe he saw that I wanted it just as much as he had and he came after me to take it a step further. Maybe talking was the last thing on his mind.

  “Claire, wait!” he yelled again and I could hear his quickened footsteps against the concrete as he closed the distance between us.

  I didn’t know what he was going to do. And if he did come after me to discuss what just happened, I didn’t know if I wanted to hear it. So, when he reached me, I made sure that he wouldn’t be able to speak at all.

  The second I felt his presence behind me and felt him grab my arm to bring me to a stop, I spun around and pulled him into the alley a few feet away. No words were needed because he knew exactly what I wanted.

  He wanted it, too. Needed it just as much as I did.

  I dropped my bag on the ground as he leaned down and covered my mouth with his. His lips felt even better than I had imagined and I needed more. I wound my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, as he gripped the back of my neck, controlling the kiss, and attacked my mouth.

  His tongue invaded my mouth, exploring every inch, inhaling every breath. It was rough and hot and incredible. The way his body commanded mine without me even realizing it. The way we responded to each other without thought. Seeking more friction, I raised my leg and wrapped it around his waist. He grabbed it and pulled it tighter, smashing our lower bodies together, making
us both groan loudly. His length was long and hard and digging into my sex. If we didn’t have all our clothes on, he would have been inside me at that point.

  His hand hiked my skirt up higher on my leg, exposing my stocking and garter belt to him. He broke away from the kiss to look down, his eyes roving over my body, his length stiffening more when they landed on the expanse of my lingerie-clad leg.

  “Fuck. I want you,” he breathed, his eyes now going back up my body, heading for my face.

  He stopped when he got to my chest, his fingers parting my coat, allowing him to see more of me. His fingers touched my blouse and pulled the material down just enough to expose the top of my lace bra to him. He stroked the skin there a few times and looked back up at me. He looked conflicted, like he wanted to yank my skirt up higher and bury himself inside me but didn’t know if he should.

  I was past the point of caring.

  “I want you too, David.”

  His eyes softened and his brow creased. It looked like he was happy to hear the words but I really couldn’t tell. Not wanting to stop, I pulled his mouth back to mine and he wasted no time in following my lead. His hands cupped my head and changed the angle of the kiss, allowing him to go deeper, bringing him closer.

  He started grinding his hips against me, pushing his shaft into me, right over the sweet spot, and that’s when I lost it. I became ravenous. Eight months was a long damn time. I grabbed onto his ass and met his thrusts with my own, controlling the way our bodies came into contact. We were dry humping in a dirty alley, in the middle of the city, and I didn’t care.

  Without even thinking, my hands flew to his belt, my fingers swiftly undoing the clasp and heading for the button of his pants.

  That’s when he stopped me.

  His hands covered mine, halting my progress. I wanted to cry because I could already sense that whatever was just happening was already coming to an end.

  “Wait, Claire,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “Stop. We can’t do this.”

  The rational side of my brain told me he was right. We really shouldn’t have been about to have sex in the middle of an alley where anyone could catch us. But I didn’t want him to be right. I didn’t want to listen to rationale. I wanted that moment, that connection between us back and I could already feel it slowly fading away.

  He carefully eased my leg off of him and stepped back, running his hands through his hair a few times in frustration. “We can’t,” he repeated.

  I was a little confused. “You came after me.”

  He looked up at me. “To talk. About what I did back at the bar. I figured I’d upset you and that’s why you left. I wanted to apologize. I wasn’t expecting this,” he said, waving his hands at me still plastered against the wall, with my hair a mess and my skirt caught on my garter.

  Oh my God.

  He was going to apologize. He regretted what he had done in the bar. And I’d basically pounced on him. I honestly thought that he’d chased me down to possibly continue what he had started back there. And I had desperately wanted to give it to him.

  I had never been so mortified in all my life.

  It look me a few seconds but I eventually snapped out of it and started straightening my clothes and fixing my hair, trying to look presentable but more than anything, trying to hide my hurt. It was stupid to feel hurt by this, I knew it. It was just lust and we had lost control for a second.

  Nothing more.

  Feelings didn’t enter into it.

  “You’re right,” I said, my business-only voice firmly back in place. “We can’t do this. You’re my boss. We should just forget it ever happened.”

  He blew out a deep breath, sounding angry, and put his hands on his hips, hanging his head. I did my best to ignore him and picked up my bag again, swinging it over my shoulder and starting to walk back to the street.

  His voice stopped me. “I wasn’t lying, Claire.”

  His words were calm and steady but laced with resolve. Defeat even. He seemed to have come to a decision and was trying to convince himself it was the right one. I wasn’t about to argue with him. I needed to get out of there as fast as possible before I did something idiotic and hormonal. Like cry.

  “I do want you,” he continued. “I just…,” he sighed again, struggling to find the right words, “it’s just not a good time for this. I’m trying to focus on the campaign. I just—I can’t.”

  Not a good time for this.

  Trying to focus.

  He acted as if I had become this giant burden to him and was screwing up his life. Well, I wasn’t going to have him blame me for any of his problems. I didn’t want any man to have to deal with me.

  “No, we can’t,” I blurted out. My words were tumbling out of my mouth but I wasn’t about to slow down. I wanted to get away from him when only two minutes ago, I felt that I couldn’t get closer. “I need to focus on my classes and this internship. So you’re right. This isn’t a good time.”

  I started walking away again when I heard, “I’m sorry” from behind me.

  I didn’t even look back. Over my shoulder, I said, “No problem” with as much detachment as I could manage and turned the corner, leaving him in the alley.

  The last thing I wanted from him was his apology.

  Especially when he was apologizing for kissing me. For making me feel better than I ever had. For making me feel more wanted than ever before.

  No. I didn’t want one single apology from him.

  ##

  Chapter Five

  David

  Six months ago

  April

  My daily dose of espresso just wasn’t doing it this morning, though I’d actually been drinking more of Claire’s hazelnut coffee than my usual espresso lately. It wasn’t the taste as much as it was knowing that she had been the one to make it.

  Yeah, it was pathetic.

  But I was desperate for any piece of her that I could get.

  Because I screwed up.

  By telling her we couldn’t do whatever the hell it was we were about to do, I had made a huge mistake. I thought that time and a little distance between us would damper the attraction, the desire we felt for each other.

  It hadn’t.

  In fact, for me at least, it had only gotten worse, stronger. More powerful. I tried to steer clear of her as much as possible. Locking myself in my office for the majority of the work day or scheduling as many appointments out of the office as I could. But when you worked in the same building, it was hard to completely avoid someone.

  It also wasn’t helping that every outfit I saw her in was sexier than the last. Her pencil skirts that hugged her ass, her button-down shirts that showcased her amazing rack, and any dress she wore that exposed her long legs. Hell, even the way she twisted her hair up into a knot and stuck a pencil through it in the middle of the day when she got tired of feeling it on her neck. Everything she wore, everything she did, made me want her more.

  And like a moron, I had told her that we couldn’t be anything to each other aside from boss and employee.

  It wasn’t like that had been easy for me. Not at all. It had taken every ounce of self-control within me to pull away from her. I could be in Guinness for the record of the worst case of blue balls in history. It was so bad, I’d gotten zero sleep that night because of it.

  My one saving grace was my work. I’d drowned myself in reports and polls and research until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, just so I wouldn’t be able to think about her before I went to bed. Picture her face in my head, recall the way her full lips had felt against mine, the way her body had tangled with mine and fit against it so perfectly.

  Needless to say, I was going to develop arthritis in my right hand if I didn’t solve this issue with Claire soon.

  I wasn’t even sure what I wanted with her. Obviously, I wanted to sleep with her. That had been the crux of our entire non-relationship ever since the night we met. I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted another wom
an in my life.

  But could we be more than that?

  Did I want to be more than that?

  We drove each other crazy, that was a given. And the reason for that was either because we were absolutely nothing alike or because we were exactly alike. I wasn’t positive but I was banking on the latter. And I wasn’t sure if that was conducive to a healthy, lasting relationship or not. So, not knowing whether or not we could work made me question whether it was even worth pursuing.

  A knock sounded on my door and Clay entered a few seconds later. We had worked together at City Hall and Clay Masterson was one of the few people that I truly respected. He had hired me as his campaign manager because we both wanted the same things for this city and shared the same vision of accomplishing it. He was also one of the few decent politicians around—honest and just an all-around good guy—and I had no doubt that he was by far the best choice to run D.C.

  He collapsed in one of the chairs across from my desk, his head falling back in exhaustion. I laughed, knowing exactly how he felt. “How’d the interview with The Washington Times go?” I asked.

  The chuckle he let out was devoid of humor. “Well enough, I guess. Did you know that I apparently proposed to cut my own salary if I become mayor in order to allocate more funds into city infrastructure improvements?”

  I didn’t react, just quirked an eyebrow. We dealt with rumors on an everyday basis. You had to pick and choose the ones you were willing to devote your time to debunking and you simply ignored the rest.

  “That’s a new one. The source?”

  He shrugged, acting as unconcerned about it as I felt. “Some blowhard on the City Council of all things. I told the reporter that the City Council member obviously thinks the mayor makes more than he does and that he could go screw himself.”

  Again, nothing but an eyebrow quirk. Clay peeked one eye open to observe my reaction and smiled, closing his eyes again when he saw my stoic expression. “One of these days I’m going to say something that will actually shock you.”

  “Good luck,” I responded. “In this business, I don’t know if I can be shocked anymore.”