by Cynthia Dane
Perhaps the reason they were so attracted to one another came straight from the movies they loved so much. It’s fate.
Had Jake wished hard enough to meet Claire that the universe finally made it happen, albeit in the worst of ways? It wasn’t fair. If they had met today instead of before… to think it could have happened without being involved with Arthur… would he really have asked her out? Vomit and all?
Did Claire have any say at all in this supposed fate? Or was her will left up to the machinations of the universe? One man named Jake Carter?
What if you’re the man I’m supposed to be with, Jake?
What if?
“I’m not going to lie to you, Claire.” Jake’s hands formed fists at his sides, as if he couldn’t hold back the emotions flooding the space between them. “When I heard that you were engaged to my father, I felt as if something had been ripped out of me. Not only was the situation preposterous, but it reminded me that there may be forces at work out there that I had no control over. Except I can control my own actions. I can’t control who you marry. I can only control how I react to that and what I choose to do.”
“How’s that?”
Jake cracked. He grabbed Claire by the hand and pulled her body toward his. Cologne, sweat, and the distinct scent of a man on the brink of madness overcame Claire as she ended up in his arms again. “Sometimes I don’t think I control things very well at all.”
Their lips were so close. Yet Claire knew that if they did kiss, they may never be able to split apart again. The affair would be official. They would both stand to gain so much from one another, but also risk losing everything that made them who they were in the outside world.
“If you’re counting on me to say no,” Claire said, swallowing the lump in her throat, “then I’m afraid you’re doomed to disappointment. Because I simply can’t say no when I feel this way.”
“How? How do you feel?”
There was desperation in his voice. Desperation that had almost been there the day of the engagement party, but so well-hidden that Claire never once suspected that this man had slowly been falling in love with her through a movie for the past few years. He had been so inspired by her interpretation of a character that he had used her as a muse for his own money-making works… did that mean the role Claire auditioned for that day was based off that performance? Damn. Now? She was desperate, too. Desperate to find herself in a new, more fruitful situation that wouldn’t mean the demise of her spirit. Her engagement was a farce. Everyone knew it. She knew it most of all.
If only things could have been different…
“I feel like I became engaged to the wrong member of the family.”
She probably could have said she felt like she was going to puke again, and Jake still would have kissed her.
Claire’s arms were around him in fewer than two seconds. His kiss had dismantled her ability to reason, and his touch around her waist destroyed her ability to reason with that part of her soul that claimed he was The One.
If he hadn’t said those sweet things about her… if he hadn’t shown such compassion when she made a fool of herself at the audition… maybe she could have pushed him away. But she couldn’t. She was his thrall, and all that mattered was making the most out of this kiss.
Perhaps it would be the last one. The one to purge the last of their attraction to one another.
Or not.
“Have you ever made such a fool of yourself before?” Jake whispered upon her lips. “Because I hadn’t until now.”
She clung to his chest, nails digging into his shirt and piercing his skin beneath. “No,” she admitted. “I hate it.”
“Me too.”
“How much?”
Flames spread from the ember burning in Claire’s heart. All it took was one wisp of smoke in the rest of her, and the next thing she knew, the fire had grown and consumed everything in its path. All that was left behind was the soot and ashes of her sanity, cremated until Claire gave herself over to this desire tearing apart her brittle, mortal form.
“So much that I wish you would put me out of my misery.”
“If that can be accomplished in my bed, then I’ll be more than happy to.”
Claire kissed him. He pulled her hair out of its clasp and yanked the zipper of her dress down to her ass.
Chapter 8
Was it a sin to forget the world outside of them? Or was it a greater sin to deny what they had between them?
Claire knew what she wanted to believe when she fell on Jake’s bed with him on top of her, like she fantasized in the days following their first encounter.
This feels so right. This is the kind of man I really want to be with. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that age and status didn’t really have much to do with it. Did she prefer a lover her own age? Of course! Yet Jake could’ve been the same age as his father and still be a much more attractive man. It was the kind soul radiating his warmth that made her fall so hard for him. Even when they first met at the party, she felt it. An aura she often didn’t encounter in LA.
A man like Jake – handsome, kind, and available – didn’t come around so often. That same man being so into her? Not just because she was beautiful? She would be a fool to deny him!
Yet I feel like the biggest fool of all. The biggest, happiest fool.
Jake’s kisses were strong, and his body upon hers was unlike anything she felt in a tiny, cramped closet. Wasn’t it, though? His strength alone had pinned her against a wall, and the man had only broken a sweat because he fucked her so hard. So he was strong! Perhaps he was weak-willed enough that he couldn’t say no to her, but it wasn’t the same as a lack of character. Jake Carter had too much of that – and it’s what attracted Claire first and foremost.
The fact he was hot to the touch and eyes was another story.
“Yes…” Claire was already his, but the fact remained unchallenged when he slipped his hand into her lingerie and stroked her wet folds. “Fuck, yes, do it.”
The same urgency from their first encounter was there, so it was strange to realize they had all the time – and comfort – in the world. They could take their time. They could explore each other’s bodies. They could experiment with different positions and play with one another as if this were something more than a quick and dirty romp that was never supposed to happen.
All Claire could think about was fucking him. Raw. Dirty. She wanted the raw feelings while still acknowledging how filthy this was. She might as well own up to what they were doing.
If he could be on the same page as her…
“I’m not holding back,” Jake said. He was halfway finished with undressing her, his hands as busy as his lips as they made love to her skin and brought pleasure to the flesh beneath. “I’m giving you everything I’ve got.”
Claire brought his lips down upon hers. His fingers were inside of her, the rest of her body screaming for more attention. Then do it, you fool. Take me. Make me yours. Make me feel like I’ll never belong to any other man in this world. She rode his fingers and welcomed him to touch any part of her he wanted. Her throat. Her nipples. That little spot beneath her breasts and the dip of her lower back. The back of her knee. The tops of her ankles. A trail of kisses from her big toe to her little toe. She wanted the intensity of a hot and sweaty encounter with the tenderness of pure lovemaking. Who knew? Every chance with Jake might be her last chance to have it all.
She yanked his shirt off and tumbled on top of him, his fingers slipping out of her and falling over the edge of the bed. Claire straddled his naked waist and felt the bulge of his erection straining against his trousers. Didn’t take much to get him hard around her, huh? “Is this what you want, Jake?” She drew her nails down his chest. He closed his eyes, his breaths staggered and his body quivering beneath her touch. “Do you want me?”
“Why the hell wouldn’t I?”
Claire bent down and kissed the light brown hairs covering his chest. Her hand worked his
cock out of his pants.
“No turning back?” His tip lingered in her wet opening. Claire fought back the demons dragging her down on top of him. Or maybe those were angels doing the devil’s sinful work. What was good and what was wrong were mired in her addled head. “You screw me again, and we’re in this hell together.”
Jake was a man of little words. He preferred to thrust upward, hands clasping Claire’s hips as he took her for a second time. The cry of elation she uttered filled his humble apartment, but nothing compared to the groan coming from his lips. He knew what he wanted.
She slammed her hands against his chest and urged him to help her find a rhythm. When everything was colored with the hot white light of pleasure, and her body became nothing more than a vessel for his whim, Claire rode him as if she had never been granted such a wondrous opportunity.
In many ways, she hadn’t. While it wasn’t her first show at the rodeo, it was the first time she felt this level of desire with another man. Desire for his body, his words, and the looks he gave her every time they were in the same room. I want him to fuck me as much as I want him to talk to me. If Claire could hold a conversation about what it meant to be a career-driven woman in Hollywood while they had sex, she would. Unfortunately, she was mortal, and she had to choose one over the other.
In that moment, she chose to fuck him.
His hands guided her hips, and his moans guided her heart. This was the most dangerous game she could play, yet here she was, full of this man’s cock and hoping he would completely lose himself within her once more. She wanted that level of intimacy as much as she wanted to keep this moment going forever.
Her thrusts only slowed because she came, much sooner than she anticipated, and with as much suspense as a string coiling on the floor.
“Oh, fuck.” Jake’s thumb and fingers squeezed into her hips. If Claire thought she was getting away from him anytime soon, she was sorely mistaken. Jake was married to keeping her right there on top of him, her body clenched around his cock and threatening to steal everything he kept close to his heart. Like his lingering feelings for a woman he wasn’t meant to have.
He must have known it too. Because before Claire could even think about finishing her climax, Jake overtook her and pinned her back against his bed. He moved so quickly and so carefully that he didn’t slip out of her body until the final moment – and by then, he had surrounded her with his now naked form and covered her in heavy kisses.
“Take me,” she whined into the firm muscle gracing her lips. “Do it hard.”
“Is there any other speed with you?”
“No.”
He didn’t want to talk anymore. He wanted to fuck her, and Claire was inclined to let him get everything he had to say out in that fashion. Especially if it meant she spread her legs wide.
It was as good as she knew it would be.
He let her make as many noises as she wanted. Hearty moans, little whines, and cries of pleasure that would have torn apart lesser women now graced the air, and sometimes only the back of Claire’s lips. Whenever Jake kissed her like he did toward the end, with his tongue against hers and his whole body bearing down upon her, Claire couldn’t get any sound out besides a muffled groan of greed.
“Hard enough for you?” The headboard slammed against the wall with that sentiment. Jake had her to his hilt, his balls slapping against her ass and her back arching so her body could take more of him. There’s no more to take! What are you doing? No, there was always more. There were ways to make a man feel even better, bigger, harder. Claire was going to figure them out right now. “Because I’ve still got more in me.”
“Do it,” she said again. “Tear me apart if you have to.”
Oh, he would. And he would bring himself down with her.
Claire relished the sensation of being completely split open and offering herself to this man. He could have her. Every inch of her that he could reach. Every sound, every taste of her sweat and the top of her tongue, and every inch of her skin was his to drink. All he wanted in return was her open soul and a chance to believe that this could be their everyday reality.
The pressure was too much. Claire came again. Her hands latched onto his stiffened arms, and she effortlessly met the last of his thrusts before he joined her.
So. Warm. Everything, from the air on her skin to the seed inside of her was too warm to bear. Claire was tired of these limitations to her body and mind. She longed for a world in which she could always take more, more, more.
Until then, she would have to live with Jake slowing his thrusts and eventually collapsing on top of her.
They lay still for a minute, their heavy breaths the only sound to be heard. Claire held her hand to her brow and wondered if she would ever be able to walk again.
She was grateful that was her first thought after having sex with Jake. Not… other things. Other, more obvious things.
“That was amazing,” she finally said. Claire was only compelled to say something because the experience wasn’t over yet. Jake had so much in him that it now freed itself from her body and trickled down her thighs. Every inch of skin covered reminded her that she could have that again if she wished. Jake was right here. With any luck, he would always be here.
He remained quiet, however. His chest gradually slowed its heavy breathing before he turned toward her, his hand on her stomach and his lips on her shoulder. Claire had never felt so safe with someone before. Was this what it felt like to be content? In love?
No. Don’t do that to yourself.
“If I could run away with you right now,” Jake softly said, “I would.”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“You think I’m not serious?”
That was the problem. She did think he was serious. Claire barely knew this man outside of a few encounters, but he had a hopeless romantic lurking inside of him. Doesn’t get that from his father. Arthur was as much of a hopeless romantic as a toad drying out in the desert sun. Looks like one sometimes, too. Claire shuddered. The closer she got to her wedding day, the more she questioned what the hell she was doing.
No, what made her question everything was falling into bed with Jake. What’s wrong with me? Don’t I know what I’m doing? She wasn’t only risking her engagement, since double standards dictated Arthur could dump her for even looking at another man, while she would put up with his philandering to get another shot at that elusive “security” thing people always harped about. No one would really blame me if I dumped him because he constantly cheated on me, but is that what I want to do? Yes. No. She didn’t know anymore.
“Can I ask you something?”
Jake groaned as he forced himself up, leg cocked and rigid muscles rolling toward her. “You had my cock inside of you. Think you can ask me anything you like.”
“What do you really think about your father?”
Sighing, Jake flopped back down onto his pillow, although his body remained pressed against hers. The sweat on his skin and the scent of his aftershave lulled her into a false sense of security. If only it was you I was betrothed to, Jake. Why didn’t your father think of that? Because it was 2017, and he thought his son wouldn’t be interested. Because Arthur was greedy and wanted a hot, young wife for himself.
“I think my father has good intentions, but is an insufferable nitwit. I don’t go home very often, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Good intentions? Is that why he so happily offers roles to women in exchange for sex?”
“Or marriage, apparently?”
“Still sex. Just legitimized.”
Neither of them commented on that.
“It’s hard to explain, especially to women.” Jake placed a hand on Claire’s arm. “Because we don’t see the effects of what we say and do like you have to feel them. My father is so set in his ways. I’ve given up trying to get him to see reason. It’s hard to do it in this industry.”
“So you’ve never swapped sex for industry favors?”
/> “No. Unless I was the one getting the favor, I guess, but I’d probably remember that.”
“That’s what I’m doing, huh?” Claire sat up and buried her face in the tops of her knees. Arms wrapped around her legs. Toes dug into Jake’s comforter. “Marrying a man I don’t even love or find attractive, inside or out. Because I want favors for my career.”
“Is that really the only reason? Seems there are less messy ways to go about it.”
“My family doesn’t have a lot of money anymore, all right? I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t float through life pretending to have an acting career when my inheritance won’t be enough to sustain me. I have a degree in theater, for fuck’s sake. I can’t waltz into an office and get a job to support myself. I don’t even know how. I… this is the fate I was prepared for. You don’t hear about it anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And I’m sorry I’ve roped you into this. I’m marrying your father, Jake. We can’t be doing this. I could destroy whatever relationship you have left with your father.”
He was silent a moment. Then, “I wouldn’t mind it. There would be worse things than no longer being in my father’s life.”
“Like not being your mother’s life?”
Jake contemplated another answer. “You asked me what I thought of my father? Everything I think of him stems from how he treated my mother. I don’t disbelieve a single thing she’s told me. I don’t think a woman divorces her husband and goes into isolated retirement for a small transgression.”
“I thought he just cheated on his wives.”
“Years of that wears on a woman. Especially a woman who loved him, I guess.”
Carmen loved him? Claire hadn’t known younger Arthur, so maybe there was something she didn’t see now. Better looks. More believable charm. The energy to keep up with a sense of adventure and so much promise. Love was blind, anyway. Carmen Dominguez became Carmen Carter because of love, not money. I can only imagine that kind of freedom.
