Claire (Hart University Book 2) (16 page)

Maybe I’d answer his snark with the truth.

I’ve wanted to sleep with you since freshman year.

“What is it? What are you thinking right now?”

My head jerked up and I stared at him. He was standing a few feet away, his arms folded and a scowl on his face.

Well, what the hell. Why not go for truth? This trip was supposed to be about helping Will, not screwing him… but I wasn’t having much luck with the first thing.

“I was thinking that I want to sleep with you.”

I’d never managed to stun someone with my words before. Will’s head jerked back like he’d been sucker punched. He actually backed up a couple steps.

“What?”

I wasn’t going to say it again. “You heard me.”

“Why the hell would you say something like that?”

“Because nothing else I’ve said has done any good. And because it’s true.”

Will turned his back on me to face the fire, running both hands through his hair. I sat still and watched him, looking at the bare skin above his shirt collar and thinking that I’d like to kiss him right there… and knowing it would never happen.

Finally he turned around again, going over to sit on one of the armchairs. His face was less angry than before, but he didn’t look happy, either. “These are the moments I know the universe hates me,” he muttered.

“You think the universe hates you?”

He met my eyes. “Why couldn’t you have said this a month ago? When you knew I wanted you, and when I actually had something to offer you?”

I was the one getting angry, now. “What, your football studliness? That’s not what I—I mean, that’s never been the best thing about you. You’re a good person, Will.
That’s
the best thing about you.”

His mouth twisted. “So you’re saying I’m a nice guy?”

“Yes. And that’s—”

“Did it ever occur to you I might be sick of being a nice guy? I’ve been a nice guy all my life. Responsible. Considerate. Whatever.” He took a deep breath. “Well, I’m done. I want to be the fucked-up guy. I want to be the asshole who skips classes and drinks too much and sleeps with a girl once and breaks her heart.”

My worry and frustration and anger and desire swirled together inside me and brought me to my feet.

“So be that guy, then. Sleep with me once and break my heart.”

Will stared at me, his jaw tight and something I couldn’t decipher in his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Especially not right now. You’re just throwing yourself at me like you’d throw a bone to a dog, to calm him down and shut him up.”

“That’s not true.”

“You’re trying to patch me up like you did after my game that time. Kidnapping me didn’t work and words didn’t work and so now you’re trying this.”

Was it true?

Maybe.

But I didn’t care.

“Why do you think that?”

He looked away again. “Because you didn’t want me when I was worth something.”

It was my turn to pace. “God, you really are an idiot. I’ve wanted you for a year and a half.”

Will looked back at me, and I stopped pacing. “You have?”

I nodded. “But last year I was with someone and this year I didn’t want to be. I wasn’t ready for a relationship and it seemed like you were, and that’s not a good situation. But now you’re obviously not ready for a relationship. So I can sleep with you without worrying that you might want more.”

His face relaxed a little. “Very funny.”

I went right up to his chair and stood in front of him. “You think I’m joking? I’ve been fantasizing about you for months. I want you, Will. You’re the one who doesn’t want me.”

His whole face looked taut. “You know that’s not true.”

“So take me, then. Break my heart. Do all the damage you can. I promise you I’m strong enough to put myself back together again.”

I couldn’t believe I was saying these things. Who the hell was this girl, anyway? I’d never talked to a guy like this in my life—and I was pretty sure I never would again.

I saw emotion chase emotion across Will’s face, and I prayed that desire would win. Because there was desire there. I saw it. The same raw, fierce hunger that I felt.

But then his face seemed to shutter and he lurched to his feet, pushing past me and heading for the stairs.

“Running away?” I said to his back. “Wow. You’re a lot of things, but I never thought you were a coward.”

He stopped at the bottom of the staircase, turning to face me with one hand on the bannister. “I’m not going to let you do something you’ll regret.”

And then I lost my mind. That’s the only explanation for what I did next.

“So fucking noble,” I sneered, walking toward him. “What happened to not being a nice guy anymore? I guess that was all talk, huh?”

Will squeezed the bannister so hard his knuckles turned white. “Stop it.”

I kept going until I was less than a foot away from him. “Why should I?”

He was breathing hard. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You won’t. But I don’t think that’s what you’re scared of. I think you’re scared that if we sleep together,
you’ll
be hurt. You know your whole I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude is hollow, and you’re afraid that spending the night with me would shatter it.”

His jaw hardened. “You must think a lot of yourself. I could sleep with you without giving a shit, Claire. Believe me.”

I shook my head. “I don’t believe you. If it’s true then do it. Kiss me. Fuck me. Do whatever you—”

He grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me back against the wall. I stared at him, seared by the heat in his green eyes, and then his hands were in my hair and his mouth was on mine and the world fell away.

Chapter Eighteen

My heart thundered so hard my body shook with it. I grabbed handfuls of his shirt, desperate to bring him closer.

The whole universe was lips and tongue and teeth and the scrape of stubble on my skin. He tasted like chicken pot pie and coffee and wood smoke, and I didn’t want to taste anything else for the rest of my life.

Heat took over. The heat of our mouths, our tongues. The heat where our bodies touched. The heat of Will’s hands, his breath, the erection pressed against my stomach. The heat between my legs.

His hands moved from my hair to my shoulders and back again. I felt the frantic urgency in his movements and recognized it.

Because I felt the same thing.

I managed to drag my mouth from his. “Upstairs,” I panted.

Will’s eyes were wild and his face was flushed. “Are you sure?”

“Upstairs, upstairs, upstairs.”

For a moment he looked like he was struggling with himself. Then the struggle was over, and all I saw was the hunger in his face that echoed mine.

“Okay,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me up the staircase with him.

I tripped halfway and went down on one knee. Will’s hand tightened around mine as he started to help me up, but then he stopped.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, still sprawled forward with my free hand on the stair above me.

His eyes burned into mine, and I froze.

“Claire,” he whispered, and then he was down on the stairs with me, his body on mine and his hands cradling my head.

When our mouths touched my whole body ignited. We were in the most awkward position imaginable, sprawled out on the stairs kissing frantically and desperately, but I never wanted to move. I never wanted to feel anything but this glorious helplessness, this sweet absurdity, this all-consuming fever.

His stubble was scraping my skin and I didn’t care. The stairs were digging into my back and I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was his body over mine, his mouth on mine, his tongue tangled with mine until all I could taste was Will.

But when he broke the kiss and started to unbutton my flannel shirt, I stopped him.

“We can do this on a bed,” I panted. “There are, like, a bunch of them upstairs.”

He stopped unbuttoning and gripped my shirt in his hands, pressing his forehead to mine.

“I’m afraid you’ll change your mind,” he said, his voice shaking. “I’m afraid you’ll come to your senses in an actual bedroom with an actual bed.”

My heart thumped painfully in my chest.

“I won’t,” I whispered. “I promise. Oh, God, Will—I’m not going to change my mind.”

He pulled back and looked down at me. “Okay,” he said, and then he scrambled to his feet and pulled me up after him, and we stumbled the rest of the way to his room.

Once we were over the threshold he scooped me up in his arms and tossed me onto the bed.

“Why did you do that?” I asked breathlessly, watching as he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his shirt and joined me on the bed in nothing but his jeans.

I was lying on my right side and he was on his left, facing me.

“I want to show you that I’m still strong and manly even though I’ve lost my football studliness.”

I knew he was joking, but I answered him seriously. “You’re the manliest guy I’ve ever known. And the strongest.”

His eyes turned bright and patches of red appeared on his cheekbones.

“Claire,” he said.

“What?”

His shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to say what I’m feeling.”

I slid my arms around his neck. “Don’t say anything, then.”

When we kissed this time it was less frantic and more intense. It was still snowing outside and the sky was dark gray, and the light that came through the two dormer windows was dim. The room seemed to contain a deep kind of privacy, the kind of privacy where two people can come together in ways they don’t have words for.

Somehow in the midst of the kissing we managed to get our clothes off, and then we were touching skin to skin. Will was like a human electric blanket I wanted to burrow into forever. And yet in the midst of all that warmth my skin prickled with goose bumps. When he kissed his way down my body his stubble scraped my breasts, and I quivered from head to toe with chills and electricity.

I’d only had sex with one guy before, but I knew I was ready to have sex with Will. There was absolutely no question about it.

But there was a question about something else.

I pulled away from Will and put my hands on his bare chest.

“Condom.”

Will’s eyes were hooded and hot, and it took a moment for him to come out of the making-out haze.

“What?”

“We don’t have a condom. I mean, that was the last thing I thought about bringing on this trip. And I brought you here straight from the bar, so—”

“I have a condom.”

I blinked. “What?”

He looked embarrassed. “I put one in my wallet before I went to the bar. I told you I wanted to hook up last night.” He paused. “Do you think I’m an asshole?”

“For wanting to have safe sex? No, I don’t.”

“Not for that. For wanting a hookup.”

I shook my head. “You wouldn’t have gone through with it. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with hooking up—just that you wouldn’t have done it.”

He looked almost indignant. “Sure I would. I decided yesterday I was going to fuck my way through life like Delford does.”

I grinned at him. “And I’m going back in time to marry Jimi Hendrix. Because there’s just as much chance of that happening.”

He rolled me onto my back and pressed me down into the mattress, his body on mine from chest to toes and his arms on either side of my head. “You think I can’t have casual sex?”

And suddenly my sweet sexy Will was seductive sexy Will, his eyes wicked and his mouth almost but not quite smiling and his hard-on pressing against my bare flesh and making every cell in my body ache for him.

I closed my eyes. “I think you can have a one-night stand,” I said. “That’s what we’re doing, after all. But I don’t think it’ll be casual.”

He flexed his hips just a little bit, and the place between my legs got hot and wet and restless.

He leaned down and spoke right into my ear. “Okay, you’ve got me there.”

And then he pushed himself up and slid out of bed, and I opened my eyes to see him going over to the bureau where he’d put his wallet.

“Condom,” he said, pulling it out and holding it up.

“I never thought anything made of latex could be so beautiful,” I said.

He grinned the sexiest grin I’ve ever seen in my life.

The blankets were all tangled up and pushed down to the foot of the bed, but I’d pulled the sheet up to cover myself after Will got up.

“You’re so comfortable,” I murmured as he came back toward me.

He lay down on his side facing me, running his hand through my hair as though he loved the way it felt against his fingers.

“Comfortable with what?”

“Yourself. Your body. Being naked.”

“My life may have turned to shit, but I know I’m in shape. Although not for much longer if I keep blowing off my workout schedule.”

He looked at the sheet covering me and ran a hand along my side, tracing the curve of my torso down to the dip at my waist and back up for the swell of my hip. “You’ve got to know you have an amazing body, right?”

I shook my head. “I don’t hate the way I look or anything, but there are a lot of things I’m insecure about.”

He stared at me like I was nuts. “What are you talking about?”

It probably wasn’t super sexy to talk about this, but what the hell. “I don’t like the shape of my butt.”

His eyebrows went up to his hairline. “This here?” he asked, cupping my ass in his hand and making me giggle. “You’re kidding me, right? Your butt is perfect.”

I shook my head. “You know who has a perfect butt? Julia. She’s a dancer and her whole body is perfect. I feel like my hips are too big. My thighs, too. But then my arms are too skinny, and—”

He moved his hand from my backside to cover my mouth. “Stop it. Seriously. I’ve obsessed over your body so much I could sculpt you from memory. I could make a statue of you like Sam did of Rikki last year. I love every inch of your body. I’ve dreamed about being with you like this for so long. And now that I’m actually seeing you naked, it’s so much better than I thought it would be.”

I felt myself blushing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fish for compliments.”

He shook his head. “I have a year and a half of compliments stored up for you. I couldn’t say you were gorgeous while you were with Ted, and after you broke up…” He trailed off.