“Don’t cover yourself. Not for me.” Clay said. Her breathing began to rise again. He knelt down, “Lay back down.” He cupped her face, and slid his tongue into her mouth; she slowly fell back onto the bed.
He reached down, and ran his hand on the surface of her panties. She knew he could feel how wet she was. With his eyes still connected to hers, he pushed the fabric to the side, and slid his fingers between her lips. Her body arched from his touch. Then as quickly as he moved the fabric, he pushed two fingers inside of her, causing her to gasp, “Clay.”
“Tell me what you want, Claire.” He whispered, as he continued to pump his fingers.
She moaned, and then spoke, “Y-you. I want you.” She whimpered.
He smiled, and removed his hand. Disappointment crossed her face, and then she realized what he was doing. He knelt down, and pulled her panties off, running his fingers along her naked lips, she clenched the sheets when his tongue found its way to where his fingers were. As his tongue danced, he pushed a finger inside of her, and she couldn’t hold it together any longer. It was as if Clay had known her body longer than she did. She ignited into a million flames, crying out his name, her body lifting from the bed in an arch. An orgasm rushed through her entire body, bringing her to a peak she didn’t know she could reach.
When she relaxed, he got up from kneeling. He leaned over, kissing her, “Was that what you wanted?”
She giggled, her face flushed, “That was so much more.”
“Good.” He kissed her again, and then walked over to his dresser. “Do you want clothes to sleep in?”
She sat up, “A shirt would be nice.”
He pulled a white shirt from one of the drawers, and handed it to her. She watched him walk to the bathroom. Her heart was still hammering against her chest. She was afraid, but ready. For once in her life she was making a choice that her heart decided.
Chapter Sixteen
Clay
When Clay returned from the bathroom, Claire was sitting crisscrossed on the foot of his bed in his white t-shirt. The moon was shining through the window, causing her hair to shine. She gave him a small smile. Everything that he wanted was sitting at the foot of his bed.
“What’s that look?” He laughed, walking toward the bed.
She shrugged, “I’m just happy.”
“Oh are you?” He sat down on the bed, resting against the headboard. “What could make your night even better?”
She turned to face him, “I don’t know if it could get better than this.”
“Come here.”
She crawled over to him; he put his arm around her, as she snuggled into his side. “Can I ask you a question?” She said against his chest.
He looked down at her, “Sure.”
“Was this your strangest first date ever?”
He laughed, “That wasn’t what I thought you were going to ask, but I’d have to say yes, it was pretty strange.” He tilted her chin up to face him, “But it was my favorite.”
“What did you think I was going to ask?”
“No idea, but not that.” He kissed her forehead. “You were pretty feisty tonight with Natasha.”
“She got under my skin.” Claire half grumbled.
Clay laughed to himself. “I’m sorry our night out ended early.”
“It was my fault.” She rested her head against his chest again. “I still got to dance a little.”
Clay suddenly had an idea, he let go of her, and stood. “Come here,” He held his hand out to help her off the bed.
“What are we doing?” She put her hand in his, hopping off the bed.
He led her into the middle of the room, “I told you I would take you dancing. When I say something, I mean it.”
“But there’s no music.” Her blue eyes stared up at him.
“The world is too loud. Sometimes the silence is all you need.” He held her hand up above her head, she spun on her tippy toes, his white t-shirt moving with her body. Then he pulled her to his chest, and started swaying from side to side. She laid her head on his chest, he rested his chin on top of her head. They moved to the song of night, the only sounds were their heartbeats, the trees, and the creaking of the wood floor. He couldn’t see his life without her now.
“Clay,” She looked up at him.
He looked down, “Yes?”
“Thank you.” She smiled, standing on her toes as far as she could, placing a kiss on his lips.
“For what?” He asked, as she rested her head against his chest again.
“Being present.”
She kept bringing being present up, and he was starting to realize it meant alot more to her than she let people know. He imagined her sitting in her bedroom alone, while the world rushed around her. Everyone was always too busy to stop. He promised himself he would never make her feel that way.
That night Clay didn’t lie awake fearing what his dreams would bring him. He ran his fingers through her hair, as she drifted off to sleep. His eyes became heavy; he rested his hand on her shoulder, bringing her closer. For the first time in a long time his thoughts were calm, he drifted to sleep a few moments after her, dreaming of her honey hair and the taste of her lips.
*
The next morning Clay woke up to the smell of bacon. The windows were open, a breeze blowing through, causing the curtains to dance. He caught sight of Claire in his kitchen making breakfast. He didn’t move at first, he wanted to remember this moment. She moved her hips, as she hummed a song. He finally leaned up on his arms, “Good Morning.”
“You’re awake!” She said excitedly, as she picked up a mug. “I made you coffee.” She brought it over to him, and sat down on the bed.
He took the mug from her, “Thank you. What time is it?”
“7:45”
“What?” He choked out the coffee, and set the mug on the nightstand. “I’m supposed to be at the library in fifteen minutes.”
She looked at him with disappointment on her face, “Do you really?”
The look on her face pinged his heart. He stopped getting out of bed, “I guess I don’t have a specific time that I have to be there.”
“Do you make your own schedule?”
“Most of the time. But I’m pretty punctual even though I schedule the times.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, “Are you a workaholic?”
He laughed, “I used to be.”
“Are you not anymore?”
“I found something worth taking days off for.” He smirked. “I’ll just work late today.”
Her face turned a light color pink, she bit her bottom lip, and walked back toward the kitchen, “You do eat breakfast right? Because, I accidentally made a lot.”
“I do.” He stepped out of bed, and followed her into the kitchen. He took another sip of coffee, “What did you make?”
“Eggs, bacon, and pancakes. I over estimated my measurements on the pancakes.”
He stole a piece of bacon, “I’ll walk the leftovers down to my Pop. He loves breakfast. We make breakfast together every Sunday.”
Claire laughed, “I go to church on Sundays. The closest thing I have to breakfast is a banana.”
He walked up behind her, and placed his hands on her hips, “I like waking up to you.”
She let her head fall back against his chest, “I like when you touch me like this.”
“Like this?” He spun her around with her hips, and took her by the back of her neck, bringing her into a desperate kiss. He left her breathless.
“Exactly like that.” She smiled.
They ate breakfast at the table, talking about what their plans were for the rest of the weekend. Clay couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He felt like he was living a dream. He never thought Claire Cunningham would be the girl who could break him; his weakness, but here she was sitting across the table, eating pancakes; such a normal activity that it almost felt strange to Clay.
After they finished breakfast, and cleaned up, Clay walked Claire to the do
or. He had to start his work day no matter how much he wanted to put it off. When she got to the door she turned, and looked up at him, “Thank you for last night.”
He brushed her hair behind her ear, “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“I want to see you again,” she picked at her thumb as if she were nervous. “Is tomorrow too soon?”
He smiled, kissing her softly, “Tomorrow is perfect.”
“Ok.” She beamed, and kissed him quickly. “I will see you tomorrow then.” She turned to walk down the steps, looking back once with a smile. He waved to her, as she got into her car. He leaned on the door frame watching her drive down the driveway.
*
After Clay showered, and changed for work he made a plate for his father from the leftover food, and wrapped it in foil. He drove it down to his father’s house before he left for work. It was 8:30 now, and he wasn’t sure if he would have eaten already. When he pulled up to the house, his father was sitting on the front porch reading the newspaper.
“I got a plate for you if you’re hungry.” Clay said, as he got out of the truck.
His father set the paper down, “I thought you always run into town on Saturdays.”
“I am. Just running a little behind today.”
“That’s unlike you.” His father took the plate from Clay. “What’s the reason? Late night?”
“Something like that.” He sat down in the chair next to his father. “What are you doing out here? I thought you would have already started working in the barn.”
“We had a cool night last night; the weather was nice for paper reading this morning.”
Clay laughed, thinking of last night. It was a cool night; Claire snuggled close to him all night long to keep warm.
“Was it a girl?”
Clay snapped his head toward his father, “What? No. Why would you think that?”
“You’ve been acting strange. I don’t remember the last time you weren’t out of the driveway by 7:30.”
“I’m not acting strange.” He stood. “I will see you later. I’m finishing up the library today.”
“Good. I’m glad to see that they’re keeping it up.”
“It’s the only library we have, they don’t have a choice.” Clay waved. “Bye, Pop.”
*
On his way into town, he was trying to play out in his head how Claire would tell her parents about him, or if she even would. In the back of his mind, he felt as if she were still trying to escape her life that she may return to one day. He was worried particularly about her father. Kevin Cunningham might be a drunk, he might be one of the best lawyers around, but one thing that was truer than both of those statements was that he loved his daughter fiercely. Which Clay liked about him.
He pulled up to the library, and parked his truck out front. He was ready to get this job over with so that he could stop coming here. Although one of his favorite times spent with Claire was here, it always reminded him of his mother.
Clay unlocked the front door, and walked inside. He froze at the entrance. The door slammed behind him. He didn’t comprehend what he saw in front of him. He looked down at the keys in his hand, and then back to the part of the library he was repairing. The steps were torn from their nails, red paint was thrown on the old stage. He walked closer to the steps to make out the words in red. BASTARD on one step and MURDERER on another was poorly painted. He knew those words well. When he was younger people used to whisper that his mother had an affair, and that’s why she disappeared. It was the farthest thing from the truth, but it was yet another rumor that floated through the town.
He ran his hand through his hair, looking around the library, trying to figure out how someone got in when he had the keys. None of the doors were broken, nor windows. They had to know someone who had keys. This job had to be completed by tomorrow. It was the deadline the city had put in place. Which it would have, but now he had to start all over. He didn’t want to call the cops, because it would hurt his business. If it got out that someone was targeting him like this, no one would hire him again.
At first he didn’t understand why someone would do this, but he had a sick feeling that it had something to do with him and Claire. It filled him with anger and fear. The fear wasn’t for himself, but Claire. He didn’t want her to get hurt. Someone didn’t like the two of them together, and last night they were on full display. He knew it was going to be hard, but not like this.
Clay locked up the library, and returned to his truck. He drove straight to the hardware store. He was determined to not let anyone find out about this, especially the library. That day turned into the night. He worked through dinner. Hours had passed, and suddenly it was 2AM. Clay stood looking at the stairs and stage. It was as if it had never been touched. His hands were aching, his knees hurt. First thing in the morning he was returning the keys, so that he could be done.
He was supposed to see Claire in a few hours, but he didn’t know if he wanted to. He had hours to process everything, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he might be bad for Claire’s life. No matter how much she wanted him.
Chapter Seventeen
Claire
Claire went to church with her parents like she did every Sunday. Her family sat next to Jason’s which was normal. She avoided sitting down until the sermon started, so that she didn’t have to speak to Jason; who made sure he sat next to her. He wanted to put on a show, and she was the star in his story.
She paid no attention to anything that was said during the hour and a half that she sat there. Her thoughts replayed Friday night over and over again. No one had ever made her feel the way that Clay did. He knew every inch of her body. She wanted more, like he was a drug. She looked over at Jason, wondering how long she would have let her love feel lukewarm. He sat there in his white button down shirt, and blue tie. It was her favorite tie on him. She bought it for him two birthdays ago. He caught her stare, and smiled. She forced a smile back. He took her hand, and she let him. If she jerked away, their parents would see.
She felt bad for lying to Clay about Jason, but she didn’t think he would understand. She started to feel as if she didn’t understand why she was doing it either. She did love her parents, but would they put their love for her over their appearance? She wondered if she broke the mold that they put her in; would they still support her decisions? She felt like a bird in a cage. A bird is beautiful in a cage, but if you never let it spread its wings, its song will eventually fade. Her heart had faded a long time ago, until Clay walked into her life.
The Church service ended, and she followed everyone outside. She knew her parents would want to eat lunch with her, she knew Jason would want to talk to her, but she wanted to escape as soon as possible.
“Logan asked me to go shopping with him. Is that ok?” She told her mom.
“I thought you were coming to lunch.”
She gave her mom a sad face, “I promised him that I would go to lunch with him.”
Her mom waved her off, “Fine. Go, before your father realizes you’re gone.”
“Thank you.” Claire smiled, and rushed toward her car.
When Claire got to her car, she pulled her cell phone out. She didn’t plan an exact time to see Clay, so she decided to call him first. She dialed his number, and let it ring. For a second she didn’t think he was going to answer. Then she let out a sigh of relief when he answered.
“Hey.” He said. His voice was dry and distant. She didn’t want to read too much into it.
“I thought you weren’t going to answer.” She laughed, trying to read his mood.
“I wasn’t at first.”
Her stomach dropped, “You weren’t? Are you ok?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
Claire laughed sarcastically, “Um, because you just said you thought about not answering.”
“I don’t think today is a good day to come o
ver.”
She felt like her heart was being ripped in two. Friday night felt like a dream compared to how she felt at that moment. “I don’t understand?”
“You don’t need to. I just don’t want to see you today.”
She felt silly for the emotions that were rising in her chest, her eyes starting to water, “Oh.”
“I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” He said, and then the line went dead.
With the disconnect on the phone, she felt her disconnect to Clay as well. She didn’t understand what had changed from yesterday to today. Her hands were shaking as she set her phone in her lap. She felt sick.
Anger started to build inside her. Who did he think he was? She gave a part of herself to him, and now he didn’t want to see her? She turned her car on, and sped out of the parking lot. He was not going to treat her like this. She wasn’t standing for it anymore.
When she pulled up to his driveway, his truck was outside of his house. She was thankful that she didn’t have to drive down to his father’s house. She slammed her car door shut, and stormed up his steps. She knocked on the screen door with force, causing it to bounce. Her breathing was heavy as she waited, but no one ever came. She walked over to the window and peered in. He wasn’t in there. She put her hands on her hips, and looked over the field. Was she really going to have to walk up to his father’s house? She walked down the steps, and around his house toward the field. She stopped before she walked through his gate. She scratched her head debating on what she was going to do. This was not going how she planned.
She decided to continue across the field. The closer she got to Clay’s father’s house she could see that his truck wasn’t there. That meant one of two things, Clay would be alone, or he was with his father, and she was creepily roaming their property. She didn’t care though. If she found Clay, he was going to get a piece of her mind.
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