But while I was deliriously happy, some people, or should I say person wasn’t so thrilled with my relationship. My friendship with Jake had significantly cooled. Gone was our easy banter while we worked. In fact, we hadn’t shared a shift in over two weeks and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had requested a different schedule.

My heart hurt a little at the thought that I had callously led him on; only to drop him in a red hot minute the second Clay gave me the time of day again. I felt like a total ass**le. I had tried to talk to Jake, to make it right in some way, but he either was too pissed or just not ready to talk to me. So any attempts at making myself feel better where he was concerned would just have to wait; if it ever happened at all.

But Clay and me. We were pretty close to perfect.

I tried not to stare at him as he sat on his bed after school, sketching in a notebook while I made an attempt to finish my homework. I was horribly distracted by the fact that his shirt had ridden up on his stomach, revealing smooth skin and drool worthy muscles.

“Do your homework,” he scolded me with a smirk. I flushed at being caught. I looked down at the illegible words on my paper and tried to focus.

“I am doing my homework,” I muttered, tapping my pencil against my book. Clay’s chuckle made my stomach knot up. Yeah, I was so not doing my homework. I closed my American History book with a bang and moved across the room slowly until I was beside the bed.

Clay grinned as I sat down and leaned into kiss the side of his neck. “Whatcha workin’ on?” I purred, rubbing my nose along the join of his shoulder.

“You should be doing your work. I feel bad for distracting you,” Clay’s voice was husky as I started to kiss the line of jaw. I loved the taste of him; salty and sweet all at the same time. While the emotional side of our relationship was going strong, the physical aspects had come to an unfortunate stall. I wasn’t sure what the hang up was. Because I knew Clay wanted me. I could feel it in the way he kissed me, the way he held me. But it was as though he were scared to take that step back into that place that used to be so familiar.

“Don’t feel bad. I’d rather be doing this anyway,” I said, lightly nipping at the skin below his ear. When I threw my leg over him and straddled his lap, I felt him weaken. Finally! I almost did a victory dance but then I was sucked under by something else entirely. Oh yeah, it was my raging hormones.

Clay tossed his sketchbook off to the side and grabbed ahold of my hips and pulled me up against him, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin. My tongue traced a line from his ear lobe to the corner of his mouth. When I pressed my lips to his, he flipped me onto my back and began to literally devour me. Our teeth banged together with the force of his mouth against mine and I opened up for his tongue.

Clay groaned in the back of his throat as my hands worked up the back of his shirt, desperate for the feel of his bare skin. And then his shirt was up and over his head, landing on the floor. I ran my fingers lightly over the ridged scars on his chest and he shivered. Even in the heat of that moment, I couldn’t stop myself from making sure there were no new cuts on his body. I was relieved to only touch old wounds.

His hands followed my example and began their own exploration up my shirt. This was the farthest we had gone since we were together in North Carolina. I eagerly anticipated the feel of his hands on my br**sts and arched my back when he finally palmed my bra covered flesh.

When he started to roll my aching ni**les between his forefinger and thumb I thought I would come undone right then and there. Like a man possessed, Clay ripped my shirt and my bra off in record time. If there was a world record for bra removal, Clay Reed would have broken it.

His mouth left my lips and attached to my waiting br**sts. He tasted and teased with his tongue until he pulled a nipple into his mouth. “Ahh!” I called out, too lost in the moment to worry about the fact that Ruby was in the house somewhere. Classy, huh?

Clay’s fingers found the button of my jeans and deftly unbuttoned them and brought the zipper down. His mouth still on my breast, his hand slipped down the front of my pants, touching me over my panties. I started to tremble, my head thrown back on the pillow as Clay worked my body.

It had been so long since I had felt this. Entirely too long if you ask me. I wasn’t one for regular self-pleasuring so I had been sadly neglected on the orgasm front. That was clearly about to be remedied.

“Clay,” I moaned as his fingers pushed passed the edge of my underwear and found my wet core. In one perfect thrust, he slipped his finger inside me and started the slow, tortuous rhythm that had me falling apart in ten point two seconds flat.

He continued to rub and thrust as his mouth returned to mine and his tongue fell into rhythm with his finger. Maybe I should be returning the favor, but I was way too caught up in my orgasmic haze.

After my body skyrocketed again only to come crashing down, Clay withdrew his finger, his lips slowing in their aggressive assault of my mouth. I was breathing like I had just run a mile in four minutes. My heart beat so fast I was worried I might pass out.

Clay fixed my panties and zipped up my pants. He then pulled me onto my side so that he was cradling my back to his front. He nuzzled into my hair and pressed a hand to my belly. “Uh, wow. Thank you,” I said lamely.

Clay snorted in my ear. “You don’t need to thank me for that. It was my pleasure, baby.” My toes curled at the sensual way he voiced the endearment. I wanted to squeal in pleasure. I was such a girl sometimes. A squeally, pink ribbon and sequins girl. And that was a side of me that only Clay could bring out.