Anger burned hot in Graham’s chest. “What an asshole. I’m sorry, Claire.”
She threw up her hands. “Are there no decent men out there?”
“Not many.”
She crossed her arms, the movement pushing her breasts up. His eyes dropped to the cleavage on display, because he was not a decent man.
“Graham.”
His eyes lifted to find a tiny smile on her face. She raised her eyebrows.
He just grinned. “Sorry.”
“Why can’t more men be like you?” she asked.
Graham nearly choked. “Me? We don’t need more of me. I’m fucked up and I was just ogling your breasts while you’re upset. We need more Nathans and Noahs. Those are the kinds of guys women deserve.”
Claire regarded him for a moment, her eyes passing over his face and chest. He couldn’t decide if he wanted her to contradict him or not.
“Hmm,” she said slowly. Thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I agree. You’re not perfect, but you’re a pretty great guy, Graham. Whether you admit it or not.”
He narrowed his eyes. “When you said you went to a coffee shop, did you really mean bar? Are you drunk?”
She shook her head and took another step forward. Before he knew what was happening, she climbed onto the bed and lifted the skirt of her bright yellow dress, straddling his waist.
With effort, he kept his arms at his sides. “What are you doing?”
“I want you, Graham.”
He blinked. “Want me…how?”
Her hazel eyes flashed and she put her hands on his chest, leaning forward. “Do you think if I’m on top and do most of the work, we can…？”
Yesyesyes. “You’re upset and not thinking clearly.”
Her head was shaking before he even finished the sentence. “I’ve wanted to do this long before now.”
Hard same.
She kissed him softly and he kept as still as possible. “Please?”
His blood was a freight train, ramming through his body to one central point. He locked eyes with her. “Part of me wants to say hell yes, while the other part demands I retain some dignity and say let’s wait until I can participate more.”
She traced a single finger along the skin above the collar of his shirt, raising goose bumps across his skin. “Which part is winning?”
“Right now it’s about seventy-thirty in favor of fucking.”
She arched her back and shifted her hips. “How about now?”
He groaned, unable to keep his eyes open as desire hit him like a spear through his midsection. “Ninety-ten.”
Claire straightened, which put more pressure on his groin and forced a heavy breath through his lips. She met his gaze steadily and reached up to slowly undo the buttons at the top of her dress. “I think I can convince that last ten percent.”
His voice was low, gravelly. “Please do.”
She pursed her lips as if to stop from smiling, probably trying to keep the sultry look going. Surely she knew he wanted her either way, right? He’d been dying to finally arrive at this moment, like a kid in the back of the car on his way to Disneyland.
Did other men really not see how incredible she was?
He wanted her serious, laughing, teasing, bickering. He’d take them all at once or one at a time, savoring each shade and facet of her personality.
Current Claire—determined, confident, maybe projecting a little anger from her failed date—was sexy as hell. He was always happy to step up and ensure a woman knew how attractive she was and how much he wanted her, but he also loved when a woman went after what she wanted.
Her progress was achingly slow, the movement of her fingers tantalizing as she popped the tiny buttons from the holes, revealing more of her gorgeous body with each one.
“Touch me,” she said, eyes still on his. She knew she was turning him on—there was no way she couldn’t feel that—and knowing Claire, she basked in the knowledge and control it gave her. But a tiny hint of vulnerability in her expression told him maybe a small part of her needed that in this moment.
“You’re bossy tonight.” His back and head still against the headboard, Graham slid his palms up her smooth thighs and underneath the fabric of her skirt.
She was almost to midstomach and the dress gaped open at the top. His hands moved around to cup her ass and he pulled her closer at the same time he sat forward, and Claire abandoned the buttons as their chests connected. Simultaneous sighs escaped their lungs and in the split second before their lips met, Claire whispered, “I’m always bossy.”