Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
That as amazing as Claire is, as phenomenal as her body’s offerings might be…
The existence of them could be quite dangerous in the wrong hands.
Chapter Nine
Claire
The following morning, we are driving to Tartine. Draven holds my hand against his mouth as he maneuvers through traffic, sneaking longing glances at me the entire way downtown. I feel so happy and safe in the passenger seat, I’m too giddy to stop smiling. I woke up this morning to the smell of coffee and soreness, Draven’s scent all over me—and it’s no mystery why. I woke up twice to his hands on my naked body, his urgent requests for permission in my ear. The first time, he spat on my sex and threw my legs over his shoulders, riding me so hard the headboard left marks all over his wall. The second time, closer to dawn, I was rolled over onto my stomach and pinned down, his lovemaking deep and grinding and slow this time, the sheets damp with sweat by the time we finished.
Hours later, his hoarse groans of pleasure still echo in my ears.
I can’t hardly believe the girl I’ve become since meeting Draven. For one, I never knew I would enjoy sex so much. Though it’s more of a constant craving, isn’t it? Even now, I ache to be straddling his lap and rubbing myself on his thick tool. Tempting my Daddy.
Yeah…I have a Daddy now.
I don’t really understand how it happened or how we both magically knew how to proceed, since neither of us have been in this kind of relationship before, but I feel like I’ve fallen from the sky and landed in an endless field of feathers. I’ve found my home. Draven is over a decade older than me and maybe some people will frown on that. But his maturity and experience are so attractive, I can barely sit still. I could never feel this secure with a boy my own age. I could never feel like this with anyone besides Draven.
“How are we going to explain me arriving to work for the lunch shift?” I ask Draven. “Pierre only hired me for evenings.”
“I don’t give a fuck what my brother said.” He gives me a stern look that releases a series of flutters in my belly. “You don’t leave my goddamn sight, Claire.”
“I don’t want to leave your sight,” I whisper, watching breathlessly as he mashes my knuckles to his mouth, kissing each of them one by one. “I’m surprised you and Pierre have been able to run the restaurant together for so long, considering how different you are.”
“Different is a mild way to put it,” he mutters, taking a right turn onto the avenue. “I probably would have opened my own place by now if…”
“If he wasn’t keeping you at Tartine with endless guilt trips?” I turn sideways in my seat so I can sit up on my knees and lean over the console, kissing the side of his face. “What happened to your mother was a tragedy, but it was also an accident. You can’t punish yourself forever. And it’s wrong of him to hold such a painful memory over your head.”
Draven sighs. “I know you’re right, but when he brings up what happened, the guilt just takes over. Shame that I could make such a monumental mistake.”
“No,” I whisper, flooded with sympathy. “Mistakes are human.”
“Mine had the ultimate consequence, though. Maybe it’s right that I live with the intention of making up for it. Maybe I should have to bear a penance.” He squeezes my hand tight in his grip. “I can bear anything now. I can get through the worst days, as long as you’re with me at the end of them.”
“I will be,” I whisper, planting kisses along his hairline and jaw. “I always will be.”
We’re almost to the restaurant when we hit a snarl in traffic.
I plop back down in the passenger seat, trading a perplexed glance with Draven.
Cars honk their horns at the stoplight across the street from Tartine, and when I look out the window, the intersection in front of the establishment looks like a parking lot.
“What the hell is going on?” Draven asks. “There’s never traffic mid-morning.”
“Strange,” I murmur, the daylight overhead catching my eye. “Open the sunroof and I’ll look out and see if I can find the source of the holdup.”
Draven hits a button and the sunroof opens.
I kick off my shoes and climb up, scanning the intersection. I’m wearing a cropped white t-shirt and a short, black, drawstring skirt that isn’t really appropriate for work, but I plan on wearing the apron over everything once I make it into the employee locker room.
Obviously, Draven appreciates my outfit because, while I’m looking out the sunroof, he’s down below in the car, skimming his palms along the curve of my hips, giving my breasts a rough squeeze through the thin material of my shirt. “God, little girl,” he moans against my stomach. “I used you like a little fuck toy last night and you still woke up smiling at me. I’m terrified you’re a dream.”