Mercedes and I had dated a few times last year. It was fun, never serious, not for me, anyway. She wanted more than I was willing to give so I ended things and she started using Justin as her physiotherapist instead of me. Still, to this day she pulls out all the stops trying to persuade me and to get my attention. I was reluctant to take her appointment today, knowing it might be awkward, but the last thing I wanted to do was sit in a stupid conference listening to the BowFlex dudes drone on. That would be a recipe for a Claire Thoughtapalooza Festival for sure. At least at work I’m constantly busy, there’s no real time for thinking when I’m here in the zone. Someone who could actually pay attention needed to go to that conference.
Mercedes was extra flirty today and I’m not gonna lie, being in a good mood I might have come across as if I were reciprocating. Hell, maybe for a split second I did? Subconsciously, maybe I was using Mercedes to test myself. Obviously, I was stupid. I already knew it would feel wrong. And it did, it just felt…forced. So I finished her therapy as quickly as possible and came upstairs.
I’m about to call down to Deanna to see if she’s ready for me to cover her at the desk so she can go for her lunch when a disheveled Claire comes storming into my office, a clearly worried Kat hot on her heels.
Standing, I place the phone back on its cradle, pausing to take Claire in. Her stare is determined, her eyes boring into mine. Her beautiful face is all blotchy, those blue eyes still vibrant despite being rimmed with mascara as if she’d been crying. But it’s mainly her hands, clenched tightly in small fists at her sides, that give me the feeling that Claire isn’t okay. My heart races at that thought.
Next thing I know, she’s rounding my desk, coming to a halt directly in front of me. She remains silent before stepping into my personal space, then throws her arms around my neck as if attempting to anchor herself to me.
“Whoa! What’s wrong?” I ask. Her body is shaking, quiet whimpers the only sound she’s making.
“I’ll just let you guys be.” Kat hesitates for a beat, watching, before making her way out the door. I nod, then hear the click that lets me know she’s locked it behind her.
“Sugarshack, talk to me. Are you okay? What happened, baby?” I question, nuzzling my face as close as I can into the little fort-like position she’s taken between my chest and neck. She won’t stop shaking. Rubbing her back, I pull her tighter, willing to hold her until she’s ready. Fuck, I’d hold this girl like this for the rest of my life, if she’d just let me.
“Matty,” she says, on a sob.
“I’m right here, baby. I’m right here.” I move us back to sit in my chair, holding her in my lap.
“I…I was wrong. I’m sorry. I can’t let her have them.”
“Who?” I ask, totally confused. She cries harder.
“I…I can’t do it. That hurt more than anything, seeing that. Blondie can’t have them.”
“‘Blondie?’ Claire, look at me, please, baby. Who are you talking about?”
“No, they’re all mine.” She finally looks up at me, tears cascading down her splotchy cheeks, wetting the front of my black Locker Room polo shirt until I feel the tears touching my skin beneath the fabric as they fall. It’s killing me to see her like this, not knowing what the hell she’s talking about.
“Your smiles, Matty. She can’t have your smiles. They’re mine. I need them. I saw the way you looked at her: Mercedes. I was there with Kat. I saw, and oh, God, it hurt so much,” Claire wrenches out, and I swear to Christ, in this moment, she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. It’s a dick thing to notice when she’s crying, but fuck, she really is. A jealous Claire Knox is a rarity. And I know I should be a nice guy, but after all we’ve been through, I need to push her here, push us. This shit ends today. Here and now. I don’t wanna wait ’til Sunday.
“Claire, are you trying to tell me something?” I ask, rubbing the tears away as I stroke her cheeks.
“Yes,” she exhales. “You’re my Dorothy, and I like it a lot. The me, with you. I need you. You get me, I get you, you make my tummy dip, and the way you look at me, I just—”
“Sorry. As much as I really, really, really like where I think this is going, I gotta stop you for a sec. Why the hell are you calling me a chick’s name?” I ask, completely at a fucking loss now.
I’m glad my question makes her giggle, it’s a bloody sight, but I’m at a total disadvantage here.
“Right. Sorry. It’s Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, a comment I had made to Kat when we were in University. Anyway…” she shrugs, “…in short, I’m the crazy Wizard of Oz, who really isn’t a wizard at all, and you,” she kisses my cheek, “you are my Dorothy, the only person I’ve ever trusted enough to let see what’s been hidden behind the curtain. I guess it’s always been you. I’ve just been fighting it for so long. But seeing you with Mercedes was the final straw. I saw it, and I freaked. Kat and I hid out in Ryker’s office for a bit, but when I heard you in yours, I couldn’t wait until Sunday to talk to you. To tell you.”
“Huh. You know what?” I ask.
“What?” Claire replies, looking deep into my eyes. A look of fear passes quickly. I smile, hoping it will reassure her that she has nothing to be afraid of.
“If it means you’re gonna be with me then you can call me a chick’s name every day for the rest of our lives.” I pull her face closer before gently tugging on her lower lip with my teeth like I’ve always loved to do. “Now finish telling me how much you need and miss me, ’cause I’m not going to lie, I’ve waited a fuck of a long time for this.”
“I’m tired,” she says, resting her head against my chest again, her breathing hitching. I think she’s done talking, but after a beat she starts, and for the first time in what seems like forever, I think my girl’s starting to be herself again. “I’m so tired of living with the ridiculous ideas that I instilled in myself. Who thinks like that anyway? Why didn’t you guys shake me?” she questions, more to herself. “I mean, I get why, I wasn’t ready…but I’m ready now…” she trails off, muttering, and I pull her tighter.
“I’m glad you worked that all out. Not sure what all you just said, but you’re right—you weren’t ready before.” I chuckle because she’s so fucking cute when she’s vulnerable like this.
“I can’t believe I’ve wasted two years like this, Matty, so stupid that I believed it would hurt me less to be away from you. I’ve been miserable,” she sighs, “I’d rather take the risk of you leaving me and deal with it over not getting to have you in my life at all, especially when I know deep within the marrow of my bones that you wouldn’t ever leave me, not on purpose anyway.”
“You’re right. It’s about damn time you saw it this way. I love this whole ‘being Dorothy’ thing a lot, babe. I gotta tell you.”
She giggles, the sound making my heart beat and my dick twitch. It’s music I’ve missed hearing more than I realized.
“Matt, I don’t deserve you. I’ve been a complete asshole. I don’t blame you for the things you said the last time, you were right, I’ve been a chickenshit—a complete moron. If I could go back in time and throat punch myself for the way I reacted after the whole Seth/Kat incident I would. But I can’t. What I can do, though, is try. Try to make you see that I’m sorry, that I’m working on reviving the kickass Claire we both know I am. I just need a little more fine-tuning, which I’m working on. I’ll share that bit with you on Sunday, as planned. Thank you for being willing to come, by the way. It was so hard to send that text. I guess what I’m trying to say soooo very long-windedly is…” She looks me straight in the eye and wraps her arms around me tight. “I’m done, Matty. I’m over fighting against you, against this…the sparks and fireworks I feel when we’re together, that special little dip in the pit of my belly that I’ve learned over the years only happens when I’m with you. I guess I need you to know I’m ready to fight for you, for me, for us. I’m totally scared, but at the same time I know I shouldn’t be. I want you to know I’m not going
anywhere ever again, so…um…I’m yours. If you want me…Dorothy.”
Then she smiles that unfuckingbelievable grin of hers, the one that makes my stomach dip, that punch-to-the-gut reminder of just how much I love this girl.
“I’m scared of you, too, Sugarshack. I’m scared that I fucking love you too much. Scared to trust you with my love again. You hurt me.”
“Matty.” She tries to pull away. I stop her.
“Listen to me. I might be scared, but it doesn’t matter, you’re so intertwined into my depths that it doesn’t matter what my mind tries to think. My heart made up its mind about you long ago. You’re what makes it beat, baby. I’ve only ever loved one girl, and it’s only ever gonna be you.” I lean in, resting my forehead on hers.
“Oh, Matty. There are people who say Disneyland is the happiest place on earth. Apparently, none of them have ever been in your arms.” Claire whispers, straddling me, eliminating any of the remaining space that she had previously tried to put between us.
“I love you, too, Claire…and your horrible pick up lines.”
“I learned from the best,” she says, giving me a perfect sexy smirk.
“Now, no more cheesy lines. Give me your mouth. I need those lips, Sugarshack.”
And she does, she kisses me with everything she is.
She breaks the kiss. “I really do love you.”
I cup her face a bit fiercely before whispering: “Say it again, Claire. Tell me that again. God, I need to hear it again.”
“I love you, Matty, so much it’s really fucking scary. I want to be yours again. Forever,” Claire says, with a conviction that touches my soul. It’s lame I know, but I swear to Christ I feel it.
“Sweetheart. You always were mine,” I say. “You just needed time to find the pieces of you that were missing. Parts of the one that belongs with me,” I utter between kisses, “my beautiful…feisty…hot as fuck Sugarshack. Now, I need inside you. Make me yours, Claire.”
It comes out as a plea, because as we’ve been sitting here having our lovefest, my cock has been dying to make nice with my girl, too.
Chapter 30
Claire
“Make me yours, Claire.”
It sounds like a wish falling from his lips, a wish I want nothing more than to grant.
Sitting on his lap and baring my soul has been cathartic, but right now, I agree. I need him in me, as much as he needs me on him. Tugging off my shirt, I realize I’m wearing “Ol’ Ratty”, my grubby white cotton bra with the snag on the strap.
As if he knows how embarrassed I am by this discovery, Matty is quick to soothe my worry, putting me at ease like only he can.
“Like it fuckin’ matters. Get it off. I want you, skin-to-skin,” he says, lifting us both from his chair and depositing me on his desk before pulling off his black polo shirt and exposing me to the beauty of his broad chest. Matt is quick to work off the offending bra, throwing it behind me on top of his tossed shirt.
“You make anything sexy, Sugarshack, never doubt that.” He moves his mouth to my hardened nipples and pulls on one, elongating it, before shifting to the other. “Always so responsive. You taste like sugar, can’t wait to taste you everywhere. And I will, but right now I need to sink into your sweet pussy, need to feel you clenching around my cock. We need to make nice,” he hums, nudging my legs apart to step in-between, lifting my skirt as he goes. His arms trace up my legs as his dirty words settle on me, leaving me dripping in anticipation of what’s to come.
“Yes, oh, God, yes. Touch me.” I loll my head back as he skims his finger along the outside of my panties.
“You’re soaked for me, baby,” he growls, taking my lips between his teeth again, tugging gently while he moves my panties to the side, making way for his digits to run smoothly over my slick folds. I move my hands, running them along his hardness, up his chest, leaning in to move my tongue along his nipples, nipping as they distend from the touch of my tongue.
“Get your pants off, Matty. I wanna see your cock in me…now,” I command with a moan, lifting myself as he grabs my ass, shifting me to the desk edge, easily tearing off my panties.
“I’m not gonna be gentle, Claire. I love you, but the need to fuck you as mine is driving me crazy. It’s animalistic,” he grunts, pulling his pants and boxers down with purpose. Seeing his smooth cock springing free has me licking my lips.
“Later, baby, you can put that sweet mouth on me later. Fuck, you’re perfect.” Taking his erection in his hand, he strokes it a few times, staring at my lips, tits and pussy. “Fuck, you’re a sight right now. So fucking pretty, and finally mine. Forever mine.” As the last “mine” leaves his lips, I feel his hardness running along my centre, coating itself in my wetness as he teases me, teases himself.
“Please, Matty, fuck me already,” I say, my voice trembling with need, my body shaking with want. Within a heartbeat, he’s thrusting inside me, stretching me in the most incredible way. I’m a panting mess as he grinds down on me, his balls slapping my ass, adding to the sensation of having him in me so deep. Pausing, Matt smirks at me before pulling me to him again, moving me as close to the edge of the desk as possible.
“I won’t let you fall, promise. This is going to feel so fucking good,” he smiles, kissing my nose as he positions my feet up on either side of him on the desk, the position leaving me nowhere to hide as he begins to thrust into me again, his pace becoming relentless. “You feel so damn good, I love the drag and pull of your sweet cunt around my cock,” he says, looking down between us. My gaze follows and my breath catches at the sight beneath me.
“Jesus, Matty, that’s so fucking hot…” I whisper, as I take in his thick beautiful cock glistening with my juices. I continue to watch, mesmerised by the give and take, captivated by the sounds created by our bodies coupled by my wetness as I react to his movements, our connection driving me to the brink as I watch my sexy Adonis slowly pulling in and out of me, over and over again. It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. I shift and hold him close so our chests graze each other. I stroke his jaw, whispering against his skin and looking into his eyes as he continues to push me to the brink. Sounding breathless, I can’t keep from telling him the thoughts fluttering in my mind as he takes me higher. “Matt, I love you inside of me.” I rub our noses together. “God, I’ve missed your cock inside me, Matty. I need you. Fuck. So much.” I fuse my lips to his, and we move in tandem until we’re both stifling our cries, coming at the same time.
Finally ending the kiss, Matty moves his knuckles along the side of my cheek, a disarming smile playing over his lips, one that steals my breath while warming my heart as if liquid sunshine was breaking through my barriers.
“Kissing you is better than breathing, Claire. Tasting you is my heaven. Loving you is my destiny. You loving me back is my fucking life complete.” He rubs my nose gently with his. “Now let me take you home, so I can love you like I fantasized about for the last two years.”
Chapter 31
Claire
“It’s recommended that you secure all loose outdoor items and keep pets indoors, as Environment Canada is predicting this storm will bring gale force winds, hail, and possible pow—” The Weather Network presenter never gets a chance to finish.
“Power outages. Damn it.”
And just like that, I’m left standing in the dark, all the ingredients for the Pomtinis I’d made for Kat’s and my girls’ night resting in the shaker. Thankfully, they’re ready to go, ’cause I’m gonna need one if she doesn’t get her ass here soon. The boys are away at a conference until Thursday so we decided to have a Netflix-and-drinks night.
Did I mention how much power outages, storms, and lightning freak the Oreo cookies out of me? Always have, and probably always will. My mom used to joke and say it was because I was jealous of their abilities, that I was used to being the centre of attention, and hated them because they would come along and try to take the focus off me, that they’d steal my thunder. Another time sh
e’d decided that the reason I hated them so much was because they’d bring out that smelly worm air, the scent I’d complain about lingering in the air for hours after a storm. I’d laugh when she’d try to come up with all the silly reasons I hated storms so much, her distraction tactic always seemed to work. My mom was the best thunder buddy, easily comforting me during the many summer storms we’d get. Then once I moved in with Kat, she became my thunder buddy, and together we’d say, “fuck you, thunder!”
“Shit.” Slowly making my way over to the small kitchen table, I begin feeling around for my laptop, hoping I can use the light from the screen as a makeshift flashlight. I’d been printing off some stuff for Matt that I plan to give him on Sunday before I stopped to make drinks. My heart beats a little faster as I feel my way around, hating the darkness. Before finding the computer, I find Mr. Felix curled up in my vacated chair, so at least now I know I’m close.
“You holding up okay, buddy? Yeah, of course you are. Mama’s the baby in this relationship, eh?” I pet his ears, eliciting a purr. “What the heck did people do in the olden days, Felix? How ever did they survive?” I ask, bringing the laptop to life. “You game for a little match of rummage drawer roulette?” Once I find a lighter and flashlight, then I’ll be golden. I laugh, carrying the glowing computer over to the counter and resting it above the junk drawer.
“Here’s hoping I find a lighter. Of course, it’s the only drawer I haven’t sorted, eh?” I say over my shoulder to Felix as I rummage through the mess. “Got one!” I fist pump, moving to light the few candles I have in the kitchen before making my way to the living room, again using the laptop to guide my way. A deep growl of thunder rumbles overhead, shaking the china cabinet. Placing my computer on the table, I light the six or so candles I’d luckily placed decoratively around the room with shaking hands. I’m just reaching for the last candle up on the mantle when there’s a loud bang at the door.
One Last Shot (Pub Fiction #3) Page 15
