by Ally Decker
Finally, she got his shirt opened, but before she could try to get it off of him completely, Nate backed her to the bed and guided her to lie down. He reached between her legs to run his fingers along her inner thigh and slowly moved them up until he brushed his thumb over the edge of her panties. She bucked her hips. Fuck, she couldn’t remember responding to anyone this fast, this strong.
She wanted to feel him against her without the barriers of their clothes. She wanted his fingers, his mouth, his cock. She wanted skin against skin and the heat rising between them before the explosion.
He pulled back to push her skirt and underwear down and off. Claire thought he would undress himself next, but he just looked down on her—naked but for her bra—and then kneeled between her legs and leaned down to kiss her stomach first before moving lower.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered before he ran the tip of his tongue over her navel, circled it once, twice, the third time.
She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and brought her hands up to bury her fingers in his hair. Nate nipped the skin of her lower stomach when her thumb brushed behind his ear.
Claire inhaled sharply as his stubble brushed over the sensitive skin below her stomach. She bucked her hips again, hoping he'd get a hint, and he chuckled but moved down obligingly, pushing her legs apart and situating himself there.
Nate brushed his thumb up and down, slipping between her folds and rubbing gently, making her gasp. The sensation was so much more intense now when there were no clothes in the way.
"Come on," she tried to urge him, spreading her legs wider and pushing into his touch, but he just looked up at her with a wicked smile.
"Patience," he told her as he continued to run his thumb up and down. She glanced up to his face and caught her breath as she saw his heated gaze and the smirk still there in the corners of his mouth, his head so close to where she wanted him.
When his thumb slipped between her folds again and rubbed a little harder, Claire moaned. Yes. She wanted him to fuck her, but she wanted to come like this, too. She wouldn't need much more than—
Nate's tongue joined his fingers, and she arched her back against the wave of pleasure. After the first lick, he seemed to abandon his slow and patient route, and when he sucked on her clit a few moments later, pushing two of his fingers into her at the same time, she cried out as a sudden orgasm crashed through her body without much notice.
He kept sucking lightly, his fingers slipping in and out of her as she came down from the high, her thighs trembling. She had to push his mouth away when she became oversensitive, and he turned his head slightly to suck a mark into her inner thigh. Then he left a trail of kisses up her body, making his way back to her navel and then continuing to go up before he could kiss her mouth again, and she tasted herself on his lips.
He pulled back, and she watched him undress quickly between half-lidded eyes. His toned body seemed at odds with him saying he wasn’t into sports. As she ran her gaze down his chest and flat stomach, she sucked her lower lip in as she noticed his hard cock. But before she could move to touch him, Nate was once again leaning over her, this time pressing his whole body against hers. His erection was rubbing against her thigh, leaving traces of wet on her skin. She reached down, but he caught her wrist.
"Let me," she whispered, impatient, but he shook his head.
He pulled back. "I don't want to come in your hand."
"Get in me, then." She tightened her grip on the back of his neck. "The condoms are in there," she added, pointing at the nightstand with the tilt of her head.
A few seconds later, Nate was sitting back on his heels with the condom in his hand and staring at her body. She wanted to squirm under his gaze, but she didn't. It just made her hotter to see him look, to see his pupils widen and his tongue wetting his lips.
Then, between one moment and the next, he was leaning over her again, licking into her mouth in a demanding kiss. She moaned into it as he entered her in one slow push.
"Fuck," he whispered into the small space between them, and Claire had to agree.
Nate pulled back a little to look at her, and the change of angle made her breath hitch. He had to notice it on her face, because he braced himself on his arms and then started to fuck her in deep, hard thrusts, bending his head to leave the line of kisses down her neck. She ran her hands over his slick back up to his shoulders, pushing her nails against his skin and trying to hold back her moans as the pleasure kept building up inside of her again.
Then he closed his teeth over the skin low on her neck and the sudden, sharp orgasm rushed through her. She arched her back at the intensity of it and tried to close her legs, but he was there, fucking her through it until he came as well.
It took Claire a few minutes to get back to herself, and she could still feel her thighs tremble against his.
She’d expected the sex with Nate would be good. She hadn't expected that.
He kissed the damp skin of her neck before he pulled away slowly. She watched him dispose of the condom and crossed her legs, trying to fight the feeling of missing him inside her.
When he lay down right next to her and pulled her onto her side so they could be face to face, it was his small, gentle smile that did her in. She brushed her thumb over his lips, then breached the rest of the distance between them and kissed Nate, her fingers splayed out on the side of his neck. It was short and chaste, but it still shook something loose inside of her.
You're not in love with him, she told herself as she pulled back only to see his eyelids fluttering closed. No way.
Not yet, added a voice in the back of her head.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Wow was Nate's first thought when he got his brain back. Wow.
The kiss was chaste, but it seemed just right. When they pulled away a bit, he couldn't help but grin at her blissed out expression, the lines of her face relaxed and the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled.
Once again, he was struck by how beautiful she was. He ran his fingers up and down along Claire’s spine and felt her relax into the mattress even further.
"I don't want to go," he said quietly, and her body immediately tensed under his touch. Nate cursed himself for breaking the moment. He’d thought she was on her way to sleep, and he wanted to say it before she drifted off. "But I will if you want me to,” he added quickly.
Claire looked at him for a few seconds. "I don't," she finally said. The tilt of her voice was a little hesitant, not necessarily surprised, but close.
Nate smiled, leaning in for another short kiss. "I'm glad."
She chuckled. "So polite."
"I try."
They settled—him on his back and Claire along his side, with her head on his shoulder—and Nate closed his eyes and relaxed.
"I have to warn you," she whispered a moment later. "My alarm goes off at six."
Nate swallowed back a groan. "That's terrible, but I’ll deal."
It's worth it went unsaid, but he was pretty sure she heard it anyway.
An additional coffee or two tomorrow was not a big price to pay for this, right here. He closed his eyes again, and after a few minutes of listening to the unfamiliar noise—Claire's loud refrigerator and all the sounds coming through the window—he drifted off to sleep.
***
Six in the morning was, indeed, hell, but Nate managed to get up, get dressed, and then swallow a cup of too-hot coffee as he stood at the counter and stared at the wall, his mind slowly getting back online. He knew he was definitely not a pretty picture at the moment, and he should be making more effort into looking presentable, but he was just not awake enough to care. Much.
With Claire currently in the shower, he had a bit of time to get his bearings. He poured her coffee, refilled his own cup, and checked the calendar in his phone on auto-pilot. His first meeting was at nine thirty, which was perfect. He had time to drop Claire off, get home, shower, change, and then get to the office.
Nate heard the water shut
off and pocketed his phone. As he drank the rest of his coffee, he took a look around. The kitchenette was separated from the living room area by the long island with two bar stools on either side. There was a big stereo in one corner of the living room, with a tall stand for vinyl records next to it. Then there was a bookcase, a small TV set, and a big couch in front of the screen. Clothes were thrown over the various pieces of furniture, and Nate had to smile. They had that in common, but he guessed he was much worse. About half of his wardrobe was outside of his closet, and on every laundry day, he felt like he unearthed his apartment once again.
The bathroom door opened with a squeak, and he turned to see Claire. Her hair was a bit darker from the shower, but the thing that dragged Nate's attention was the expanse of skin on display. Claire was shirtless, her black bra in stark contrast to the pale skin of her chest and shoulders. Nate couldn't look away, and the warmth that spread through him at the sight of a mark below her right collarbone had nothing to do with the too-hot coffee he was just drinking.
"Hi," he said, hoarse from both sleep and low-level arousal they didn't have time for. "There's coffee."
He winced internally at how smooth he wasn't so early in the morning, but the way her lips quirked up might have been worth the slight embarrassment.
"Thanks."
She brushed past him to get to her coffee, and Nate tightened his grip on his own mug. She was so close, barely a few feet away, and he wanted to touch her, to kiss her, but he didn't know what was allowed this morning.
He took another sip of coffee and decided to risk it. He reached out and brushed his fingers over her lower back where the constellation of freckles seemed the most dense. Nate hoped that one day he'd get to spend some time learning the pattern, especially when Claire shuddered under his fingertips. Sensitive, then. Good.
She turned and closed the distance between them before dropping a kiss onto his lips.
"Hi to you, too," she whispered after pulling back. He chuckled and closed his fingers over her hip to keep her close. Her raised eyebrow just fueled him to misbehave, but before he could do something, anything—and he had quite a few ideas on the ready—she glanced at the electronic timer in her oven and swore.
A second later, she was half-way to her bedroom, and Nate was left alone in the kitchen, pushing away the visual of pushing her up onto the counter and running his fingers and his mouth over the edges of that bra.
Maybe some other time.
He put his and Claire's cups into the sink and then double-checked if he had left anything around. By the time Claire came out from the bedroom, fully dressed and strapping the gun holster on, Nate had reviewed a few of his emails and considered coffee number three.
"I can drop you off at the precinct," he offered before she could show him out. "Even with the traffic, we should be there faster than if you take the train."
She shook her head. "Don’t bother, I’m gonna be fine.”
"Bother with what? Driving you to work? Please, as if I would mind,” he told her. "I get to spend more time with you and test your resilience to 70s rock."
"Please." Claire smirked. "That music is a pleasure, not a torture technique."
Nate beamed with a nod. "Okay, so we've got that settled, then. Come on."
Claire narrowed her eyes slightly, and when she opened her mouth, Nate was sure he was going to hear a rejection.
Then her expression changed and she nodded. "Okay, let's do this."
As they left the building, Nate noticed the same kids walking with their dog. The street was more crowded than last night, with a few stands that hadn’t been there after dark and a slow stream of people. It wasn't a busy street, not like the ones he knew from Manhattan, and he appreciated a slower pace. It seemed like Claire and he were the only ones who were in a hurry as they rushed to the car.
As they settled in their seats, he turned the radio on, but put the music at the low volume, so they could talk.
"Any special plans for the day?" he asked after backing up from his spot.
Claire shook her head. "No, just plain old investigative work. Nothing glamorous. You?”
“Meeting clients most of the day,” he said before giving her a one-sided smile. “I’m hoping for something glamorous, but no plans for that.”
“Isn’t fixing mostly about shock and awe in the way of damage control?”
She didn’t sound scornful, exactly, but Nate could tell she wasn’t a big fan of his work. He wondered if it was more because they sometimes crossed paths with the police or because of her father specifically, but it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have right now.
“Not really, no,” he answered her question instead. “It’s mostly behind the scenes kind of work, steering the conversation and redirecting focus. Sometimes, sure, there is some shock and awe, but that’s just a tactic, never the whole plan.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything, and for a while, the only sound inside the car was the music from the radio. Then Nate got honked at after a perfectly fine turn, and that gave them a safe topic to talk about. Claire had a lot of stories about New Yorkers driving, and some of them were so bizarre, Nate laughed, shaking his head.
When the conversation paused once more, it was to comfortable silence this time, and he found himself glancing toward Claire again and again, thinking how best to approach the topic of the next date.
Because he definitely wanted there to be a next date.
“What?” she asked after catching his gaze yet again. He could see she was trying to fight a smile.
“Would you like to have dinner with me again?”
She sucked in her lower lip as if she was thinking it over, but Nate's gaze was drawn to the glimpse of her teeth worrying the soft flesh.
This time the honking was definitely justified.
"It's a yes if you get me to the precinct on time and in one piece." Claire gave him a pointed look. "But I'm probably going to work late this week."
He could deal with long hours; it wasn't like his job was a regular nine to five. He just wanted to see her again soon, and since they were almost at her precinct, he didn't have much time left. "How about after work drinks tomorrow? Or another late dinner?"
"Drinks are fine, but I’ll probably grab something earlier to eat."
Nate nodded. "Okay, I’ll call you tonight and we'll set it up." He couldn't help grinning at her. "I'm looking forward to it."
She tilted her head down, but he caught the sight of the small smile. Then he turned onto the street where her precinct was situated, and she straightened in her seat. The change was subtle, but it was still there—she was the NYPD detective Claire Dowson now. The soft edges on her face disappeared, switching from personal to professional look.
Still, as he parked as close to the precinct as he could, a few buildings down the street, he didn’t want their time to end just yet. He turned to her and leaned in slowly, giving her time to back off. She didn't. She tilted her head and leaned closer as well. Their kiss was soft and unhurried, with neither of them trying to speed things up. It was also fairly chaste but still managed to shake Nate up with how familiar it felt. It wasn't a 'bye, thanks for the great sex' kiss, but rather 'bye, honey, see you soon' kind of a kiss. And that was not what he'd expected, at all.
When they parted, the air seemed to be humming with something, and Nate wanted to lean closer again, but Claire sucked one side of her lower lip into her mouth and sat back.
"I have to go," she said quietly, closing her fingers over the handles of her bag.
He managed to nod and then watched her get out and walk towards the precinct with a quick and confident pace, which wasn't so easy when someone was navigating busy streets of New York City. Finally, she disappeared in the crowd, and Nate sat up in his seat and turned the engine on again.
He needed to get to work and try not to obsess over Claire.
Easier said than done, he thought as he joined the traffic line. Easier said than done.
CHAPTER NINE
Claire and Lori caught one of those cases that really messed with one’s head right before noon, so her happy bubble only lasted a few hours. Thankfully, after staying late on Thursday and pushing through the witness list hard on Friday, they somehow, miraculously, managed to get a practically bullet-proof case, and the asshole they arrested should end up with multiple life sentences once the prosecution did their jobs.
Success like that meant Claire and Lori celebrated with a slice of pizza from a street corner near their precinct, the tradition that had dated back to their early days on the job.
"So." Lori leaned against her car. "A hot date tonight?"
Claire tried to catch a string of cheese falling from her slice, so she just shrugged.
Lori wasn't easily deterred. "Shrug means 'I don't know' or 'not sure if hot'?"
Definitely hot, Claire thought, remembering Wednesday night. She shoved pizza into her mouth to buy herself time and come up with an answer that wouldn't be embarrassing. Because that was what her life had become now, apparently. One hot lawyer-turned-fixer, and she was giddy like a love-sick teenager whenever her phone pinged with a text message.
Luckily, Nate mostly texted her in the evenings, and Lori hadn't witnessed anything embarrassing. Yet.
"We're meeting for drinks later, yes," Claire finally said when she’d swallowed most of her pizza.
"You like him, then."
There was no reason to deny it, Claire supposed. She nodded.
"Good. You deserve a nice guy for a change.”
Claire looked down at the remains of her slice and shrugged again. She still tried not to get her hopes up, even if she was failing at that pretty spectacularly. "He was nice on and after the first date. Too little data to say anything more.”
