A New Forever (4 page)

So she already knew how strong he was when he wrapped those muscular arms around her, but these hugs would be different, because she was his, and he didn't have to maintain any sort of distance from her. Her body melded to his, desire rising instantly as it always did whenever he was around. She lifted her face to his for a kiss that she deepened herself, twisting her lips beneath his and cupping the short cropped hair at the back of his head in her palm, fanning it in her fingers as their tongues danced together.

Clay would draw back just a little and kiss the tip of her nose, groaning as he rubbed his lower body against her, obviously fully capable and ready. "I take it you've been lonely all day, my love?"

"Horribly, horribly lonely," she breathed into his mouth as it returned to its home perched above hers.

"I think I have a remedy for that." Clay adjusted a little and lifted her into his arms, walking up the winding staircase to their bedroom without being out of breath in the least. He laid her down on their big king bed and continued to kiss her as he relieved himself of his simple cotton tee.

As the vast expanse of his torso was revealed, Elodie couldn't help but run her hands over it. She'd always been fascinated by his chest, all those bulging muscles lightly covered with soft black hair, small peaked nipples poking out at her hands as insistently as other parts of him were poking into her hip. His hands were busily finding their way under her knit shirt, finding and disposing of her bra like an expert, then feasting on her breasts, cupping them gently, and seeking those already plumped out nipples that tingled in expectation of his touch.

Warm, rough fingertips pinched and rolled her nipples confidently, making her groan and twist, pressing her breasts more firmly into his hands. Before she knew it, she was naked beneath him and he settled himself between her legs. She was spread so wide to receive him that she could feel the rough fabric of his dress pants against her most private area.

Clay's mouth, evil grin and all, descended on her breasts as he asked, only somewhat tongue in cheek, "Did you behave today?"

She couldn't think to answer him beyond a long, drawn out "yes" as her breathing became more and more labored. When he captured a stiffened nipple between his lips and teeth, she squealed suddenly, not knowing if he was going to nibble or suckle until those warm wet lips tugged that sensitive nub into his mouth, trapping it against the top of his mouth and flicking it mercilessly while his other hand gently pinched and rolled her other nipple.

He always knew exactly what to do to drive her absolutely crazy. Actually, all he had to do was be there and she ended up needing a new pair of panties.

Clay shifted just a tad to his left, just enough so that he could trail his hand down the center of her body as if he owned it to cup her bare privates with his fingers, the slide of his middle finger between those soft lips, right to the sopping wet center of her, already slick and waiting for his attention. The pad of that finger began to torture her. There was no other word for it. He was so big that, when he was on top of her, she could barely move. Her free left hand and arm were entirely useless against him—trying to move him in any way was like trying to adjust the position of a brick wall.

That finger was going to drive her crazy. She was always simmering at a high level of desire around him, and it was almost embarrassing how easily he could bring her to pleasure. "Please, Clay, please!" she breathed, knowing that he liked to tease her sometimes and would stop in the middle of things and bring her down a notch or two, only to build those ever present fires back up again, slowly and carefully stroking and stoking her, bringing her to a fever pitch where he would hold her for the longest, hardest moment of her life, then finally send her flying over that cliff as he joined her body with his...

For some reason, Elodie started out of her near sleep fantasy at the exact moment he entered her, her body spasming with pleasure as if he were lying right next to her. She was in a cold sweat, wondering if she was doing the right thing, if going out with Clay was going to lead to a point when she would never see him again, worrying herself into a frazzle so that she barely got any sleep that night.

It was the quietest, most awkward dinner either of them had ever had. Early on, Elodie had started to think that maybe this wasn't the best of ideas. She was just so damned uncomfortable—she feared she looked as though someone was peeling away her skin a strip at a time. Just before they placed their orders with the extremely attentive waiter, Clay leaned towards her and said in a playful tone, "I promise no one around here bites."

He watched her intently as she felt her face heat up and she couldn't help but bite her lip, her eyes scanning the menu to find the cheapest thing to order—not an easy task at all.

His eyebrow rose, and his chin automatically tilted down a notch as he caught her eye. "This meal is on me. You are to order everything, from soup to nuts, anything you want. And if you don't, I will."

He didn't look like he was bluffing at all, and he'd already threatened to spank her once, and she knew they weren't idle threats, either. Somehow she doubted that he would hesitate one instant to take her over his knee. Elodie now had to look at him a little differently than she had been doing. He'd always been a take-charge guy, confident and dominant and more sure of himself than any ten men. But all of that had always been focused on someone other than her.

Even during their lunches, where she got to drink him in for an hour or two at a time, she could feel the warmth and comfort of his undivided attention, but something had changed between them... ever since she'd called with the intention of canceling their dinner but he hadn't let her. Things had somehow become a notch or two more intimate, just from that discussion, and now all that intensity had settled squarely on her, and she didn't know whether to revel in it or run and hide in the corner.

It seemed easier to give in to him, to a point. But Elodie didn't want him ordering for her—she was too darned fussy for that. He would never be able to remember all the myriad things she refused to eat. The menu wasn't huge, but she was surprised to see that there were several items that looked interesting. There were no prices on the menu, and she knew that she could never have afforded to pay for her own meal here. She hadn't intended to order an appetizer, but when he raised his eyebrow at her in that tone, she was forced to reconsider. Elodie ended up with a prosciutto and melon appetizer, which seemed to surprise him, followed by a flat iron steak, cooked medium, and a baked potato.

Clay gave his own order and the waiter scurried away. "There's one thing that I have always wondered about you and I've never asked. Would you mind a somewhat personal question?"

Elodie squirmed in her chair, refusing to meet his eyes, saying, "No," in a long, drawn out, extremely tentative manner.

"You're so timid—how did that scumbag ever get you to marry him in the first place?"

"Oh, you mean Randy?"

Clay nearly choked on a sip of his water. "That was really his name?"

She nodded vehemently. "It was a pretty good descriptor, too."

He leaned forward and beamed the most seductive smile a man could. "Was it?"

"Oh, yeah..."

"So how'd you guys hook up?"

"School. I tutored him. We talked a lot, even though we didn't have much in common..." she knew she was growing redder by the minute, "and he was a smooth talker."

"He must have been. I can barely get you to say hello to me while looking me in the eyes."

Elodie grimaced. "He wasn't at all like you. You're so... and he was so... you'd mow over him in a minute."

"So some weak, spineless idiot got you to marry him when you were eighteen?"

Why was he giving her the third degree? She was getting even more flustered than she had been. "Well, at least I wasn't afraid of him."

Elodie wished the floor would swallow her up the moment the words escaped from her mouth. She could have sworn that that wasn't even what she had been thinking—she had no idea how that thought ended up being said out loud.

Their appetizers were set in front of them, but Elodie had suddenly lost her appetite, despite how gorgeous the plate of fruit and ham looked.

And Clay looked as though she'd just slapped him across the face. His lips were pinched tight, brows drawn together, looking like a storm cloud. "You're afraid of me?" He sat back in his chair, staring down at his clam chowder as if it were a bowl full of frogs. "And it must have helped so much when you found out that I spanked April. You must really have thought I was a beast after that."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I've never thought you were a beast. I told you, she explained how the spanking was consensual." Elodie cleared her throat, unable to believe they were having a conversation like this at dinner. "And I'm sure there were times when April more than deserved what she got. She got spanked a lot by our father, too."

"Domestic Discipline is different than how a child is punished by a parent."

"Sexual?" she asked without even thinking.

"It can be." He paused and studied her in silence for so long that Elodie had no choice but to fidget in her chair. "How much do you know about Domestic Discipline?" he asked. His skeptical look made it very clear that she couldn't pull one over on him and fake that she knew all about it.

"Nothing. I didn't even know that was what it was called. April just told me you spanked her, and not much more than that." Elodie took a large swallow of her water to try to wash away the large lump forming in the back of her throat. "But don't feel you have to defend your belief. I'm not judging at all."

"Well, to me it's something very intimate between the two people involved, but it seemed to help keep her from doing things she oughtn't—she never wore her seat belt until I wore out her bottom one time when I caught her without it one day by accident. And she didn't even own a winter coat—"

Elodie's eyes darted away from his. She didn't own one either, but not for the same reason. April had thought they were unnecessary; she was one of those people who were always warm. Elodie, on the other hand, didn't have one because she couldn't afford it.

But Clay was too eagle-eyed to miss something like that. Several somethings. "Eat your appetizer before it gets—" he smiled and gave the sexiest little wink, "before it gets
cold
."

She couldn't help but giggle, which wasn't something she did freely, but with Clay, she couldn't help but feel happy.

"And why, pray tell, don't
you
have a winter coat?" he asked.

Elodie stopped with a ball of sherbet-colored melon on its way to her mouth. "How would you know whether or not I have a coat?"

"I remember from last year. And I distinctly remember telling you to get a coat then." He wiped his very sensual lips with his white linen napkin. "Did you?"

She had to think about her answer for a moment, and then quickly decided to avoid giving a direct answer. "I think I'll take the fifth." Despite the fact that their discussion had her sitting on tenterhooks, and seconds ago she could have sworn she couldn't eat a thing, the sweet, salty smell called to her, and she began to delicately devour the bounty before her.

"No, no, no. The fifth isn't available to you, any more than it was available to April."

"But I'm not April." The statement was firm and strong, as if she was trying to reinforce it to herself as well as to him. Elodie didn't want to be April, and she didn't want him replacing April with her under any circumstances, fantasy life be damned.

He gave her a look that she was sure must have been "the look" that April had referred to so often. "I know that. But you're her sister, and it's my brother-in-law-ly duty," he looked confused at himself and the way he'd mangled the English language, "to make sure that you're as healthy as you can be, too."

Elodie snorted. "You have no such duty to me."

"I need to do a better job of protecting you."

Her stomach flipped at his words, and a sudden urge to feel his arms around her almost knocked her out of her chair. It took all her might to barely squeak out, "I can take care of myself."

Their entrées arrived and were presented to them with a flourish. Once they were alone again, Clay leaned towards Elodie, grabbed her hand, and played his trump card. "It's what April would have wanted. You know that as well as I do. She wouldn't want me to leave you alone."

How could Elodie ever hope to argue with that? She cut into a steak that practically fell apart when she threatened it with the knife and fork. It literally melted in her mouth, and a small groan escaped her as she closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the sensation for a moment. It had been a long time since she'd had a meal like this.

When she opened her eyes, Clay was staring right at her, as if she was dessert. "Uh, how do you know that April would want you to look after me?" She was groping for something—anything—to say to distract him. Those eyes were robbing her of what few remaining shreds of flimsy protection around her fragile heart she had. He could see into her soul, she was sure; see all of the things she'd dreamt of doing with him, she was certain he could discern those innermost secrets he should never know.

"Because she mentioned it one time—that, if anything happened to her, she wanted me to keep an eye out for you. It's my manly duty… to watch over you," Clay said.

Elodie took a swig of her water, hoping it would cool her down from the inside out, but no such luck. The more they talked, the more she felt the need to fidget. His effect on her was tangible. She was still breathing much more heavily than she usually did, although she was consciously trying to hide it. Her skin was hot and tight all over, not considering the blushes he caused with nearly every sentence. Her fingers were frozen with nerves, yet that nether area between her legs surged and throbbed with excess heat, and she could feel herself dripping into her panties.

He was too close. He was too damned close, in more ways than one.

Meanwhile, she was trying desperately not to let any of it show. If he even suspected... she would never recover.

So she cut and took another bite of her steak, but she'd lost the enjoyment of it, chewing robotically and swallowing so hard it might as well have been a clump of dryer lint. "And you think that April meant you should oversee my wardrobe?" she said.

He was eating his meal as if she wasn't just about to explode two feet away from him. "I most certainly do. I have been lax in my duties, and I'm going to rectify that situation as soon as possible." Clay leaned forward, looking her directly in the eye. "I want you to go out and buy yourself a winter coat, and I want to see it the next time we get together, or you will
not
like the consequences, I promise you."

"Consequences?" She giggled uncomfortably. "What? Are you going to spank me if I don't?"

"Yes." His look made it very clear he wasn't joking.

"Ha ha, very funny." She was trying to make light of the situation, even though the look on his face showed he was serious, and the ache deep within her pussy revealed that she wasn't one hundred percent opposed to the idea.

"I'm a man of my word, Elodie. So I advise you to get a coat, or you won't be sitting comfortably for quite some time."

Her eyes widened. How the hell was she going to do that? She was barely making her rent, paying her bills, buying groceries and painting supplies. Sometimes groceries took a decided back seat to everything else. A new coat was out of the question. She could go to Goodwill, she supposed, but she didn't really want to. Elodie wasn't much on wearing other peoples' clothes. But the bigger question… was he serious? Would he actually spank her?

"And I want us to get together more often than once a month, too. I don't have much of a social life, and I don't imagine you do, either, no offense. It wouldn't hurt either of us to get out more often and go do things. We can see movies, and go out to dinner, and go bowling… or I don't know. Whatever we want."

Elodie was wondering how she was going to pay for all of this, but she didn't say anything, concentrating instead on her meal.

"I don't want to lose contact with you, Elodie. I don't want to push you too hard or piss you off—although I can't remember a time when I have ever seen you angry. But I realize that I want to take care of you—that it feels good to have someone to look after again. April was a handful—all bounce and go. You are more fragile, but with the familiar stubborn streak that your family is cursed with." He reached over and took her hand in his. Elodie instantly tried to pull her hand back, but he refused to let her go, holding gently but firmly, not allowing her to wiggle her way out of his careful grasp.

She was practically in a panic. She did not want him touching her. The man was sharp as a tack, and he was sure to discover her immediate response to him if he was able to lay hands on her any time he wanted. So she concentrated all of her effort—every ounce of her being—on retrieving that hand, but got absolutely nowhere. He wasn't hurting her at all, he was merely holding on to her hand with calm determination.

She'd been concentrating so hard she hadn't been looking at him, but when her eyes flitted up to his, she stopped cold. His eyebrow was up again, his chin down, his full, sensual lips in a tight line across his face.

"That's better. You act like I'm going to hack it off or something." He sighed in exasperation, squeezing her fingers tightly twice, then letting go. "I just wanted to emphasize what I'm saying. I'm not trying to be a hard-assed jerk. I care. I always have. I know you're not used to that, but you should be. I'm a part of your family—I'm the closest part of your family, physically and emotionally, unless I missed my mark."