I head straight to the shower, about to turn the water on, but then I hear water noises from Blake’s shower too, and for a split second, I don’t move at all. I’m ridiculous. We probably showered at the same time numerous times in the weeks I’ve been here. Yeah, but that was before he kissed me against a tree.
A low groan follows, which really must be a loud one, but it’s muffled by the wall.
And then Blake rasps out my name. My knees buckle. The realization that he’s touching himself while fantasizing about me hits me with such force it knocks the breath out of my lungs. I listen intently for a few more seconds, just to make sure I’m not imagining this, but there’s no mistaking the reason behind his continuous groans. I can’t help it; I join in on the fantasy. Closing my eyes, I imagine him on the other side of the wall, naked, all that lean muscle and strong build on display, his hand sliding up and down his erection fast and then faster still.
Every bone in my body liquefies. I’m beyond turned on, and I can’t bear the ache between my thighs for one second longer. I slide my hand down, Blake’s groans fueling me. I’m dripping with desire. I move my fingers over my opening, up until I reach my clit. Tension builds inside me until my body is tight with it. I’m right on the cusp, and I need my relief fast. I need it right now.
I imagine Blake’s hands and lips on me. A thought nags at the back of my mind. Does he know I’m here? If I can hear his shower, then he must be able to hear mine too. The recognition almost sends me over the edge. Every cell in my body seems wired to my clit, and I move my hand more furiously than before. I press my other hand against the wall, seeking his skin, but encountering only the cold tiles. I want to break down this wall and reach out to him. I need him so badly. I want him to fill me up and whisper dirty things in my ear. I’ve never wanted anyone as desperately as I want Blake. Ever.
“Oh fuck. Clara. Fuck!” The low guttural sound reverberating on the other sound of the wall sends all my senses into a tailspin. I pinch my eyes shut and come so hard, I grip the railing of the shower for support.
“Blake!”
I’m beyond shame or caring, and I chant his name again and again until I ride out my orgasm, fully aware he must hear me. When I open my eyes again, it takes a few seconds for my vision to return. My breath is coming in pants, my desire satiated and at the same time magnified. I move my hand from the shower railing to the wall again, as if I could somehow reach out to Blake that way.
After I calm down, I finish my shower and step out. The mirror is smoked up from all the heat, and I drag my palm over it, cleaning it until I can look at myself: red cheeks, hooded eyes, ridiculously satisfied grin.
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the weakest woman of all?
Clara.
Even with a wall separating us, Blake and I just crossed a very dangerous line.
CHAPTER NINE
Clara
“The specials are on the front page.”
I nod at the waiter, taking the menu he’s handing me. I’m meeting Pippa and Summer for happy hour. I haven’t seen them since the wedding almost five weeks ago, which is five weeks too long. I love being with these girls. They understand my crazy. More than that, they usually join in on it too.
Twenty pages filled with cocktails. Complete overkill. When the girls enter the venue, I wave to them, and my palms sweat lightly.
I never can hold my tongue when I’m around them. Well, I rarely can hold my tongue, but my oversharing affliction is worse around them. I don’t want to tell them about kissing their brother last Thursday. I’m not even sure why, but I feel it’s smarter to keep the information to myself. Big mouth that I am, I already told Kate and Penny. Penny was ecstatic. Kate, the traitor, also cheered me on.
As the girls sit down, I open the menu to the page I think has the most interesting cocktails. The two sisters resemble each other very much, even though at first sight they couldn’t be more different. Pippa is tall and blonde, and Summer is petite and has light brown hair. But they both have the exact same defined cheekbones and plump lips.
“I didn’t actually read the entire menu, but these seem interesting.”
“Ain’t nobody got time for twenty pages,” Pippa exclaims, looking at the menu in bewilderment. “These sound good.”
“How are the girls?” I ask Pippa after we order. Mrs. Bennett proclaimed she needed more time with her granddaughters, which is why Pippa has a free evening. Sometimes she plans girls’ nights in at her house so she can keep an eye on the girls too.
“Oh, they are opportunistic little devils. They’re all hugs and kisses when they’re with me, and when they see Mom they jump right in her arms, and to me, they’re like “we don’t know you”.”
“That’s because Mom lets them eat chocolate in the evening too,” Summer comments.
Pippa throws her hands up in the air. “They’re gonna do that when they’re adults anyway. I mean, look at me. They should at least have healthy habits when they’re kids.”
“Is Julie at your mom’s too?” I ask. Julie is Pippa’s stepdaughter, and about twelve years older than the twins. Pippa’s husband was a widower when she met him.
Pippa shakes her head, sipping the cocktail she just received. “Nah, she’s at home. Too busy warring with her father.”
I grin. “Let me guess, Eric scared off another guy who asked her out?”
“Nope, but refused to let her out of the house for a date because she was wearing a very short skirt and didn’t want to change. I think Julie’s researching colleges in Canada right now, possibly even Europe. The farther the better.”
Summer chuckles. “Eric is a tad overprotective.”