12/22/16

"THIS SHOULDN'T HAVE happened again," Clayton's deep voice rings out under me.

His naked body lies beneath my own as I cross my arms over his chest and lay my chin upon them to look straight into his eyes. His eyes make it too easy to fall even more for this man. Fall every time his fingers brush my own secretly when around his family, fall every time he lets me see his rare breathtaking smile, fall every time he brings me so high with his body and then falls over the edge with me. Every single moment with Clayton makes me only want more.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip at his words. Because I know we shouldn't have let this happen again. But somehow as soon as we saw each other in the library again it just happened. No words even passed before his lips were once again on mine.

Before I knew it we were in his room on his bed and our clothes were scattered across his floor. His hands and lips were all I could focus on before he entered me making me lose all coherent thoughts.

"I know," I breathe letting my warm breath flutter over his already heated skin.

His fingers trace over my bare back, drawing circles against the slightly sweaty skin. I chew on the inside of my cheek at his lazy movements, something so simple yet my heart aches a touch at the idea of never feeling this again. My heart already mourning the loss of him, of this. His touch that is feather light turns me into putty at the easy action.

I reach out just a bit and let my pointer finger touch his bottom lip before tracing over the plump lips that make me feel like I'm flying when they kiss between my legs, and loved when they my meet my very own.

His tongue darts out against the skin of my finger before playfully letting his teeth nip at my finger next.

A giggle falls from my lips at the action, and he uses this as a chance to shift our bodies so his is now hovering above mine. His left arm cages in my head and supports his body as he let's his right hand trail over my bare hip.

"We shouldn't do this again," he repeats, though his raspy voice is laced with a lust filled darkness. He lowers his head to trace his nose against my collarbone and up my neck slowly letting himself smell the sex and faint perfume that touches my skin.

"We shouldn't," I agree breathing out heavily as his right hand caresses my inner thigh. My body begins to hum as the electricity that fills him begins to flow through me, linking us together. My hips shift up on their own accord seeking the pleasure only he can give me within mere seconds. It's as if he knows my body better than I do, as if him and only him is meant to touch me. To make me see stars, to become one with the constellations I dreamed about as a child.

"But...." he trails before he places a gentle kiss to the corner of my jaw.

"But...." I mimic, a low groan following my words as his teeth sink into the sensitive skin behind my ear.

"I can't stop," he admits, and I can hear the touch of pain that edges his words. That edges every interaction we have because he believes he's betraying his brother in way that I know goes against the good heart he was blessed with.

"I don't want you to," I whisper after his admission baring another piece of my heart to him as he did with his confession.

His eyes meet mine. The honeyed color swirling with thick emotion, as they hold onto mine for a few long moments. Few soft breathes. Few wild heartbeats.

Clayton leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips. Letting them move against mine slowly, needy, lovingly. His right hand comes up to cup my cheek, his touch not rough and desperate as it has been in the past. His tongue meets mine and a low guttural moan fills his throats and vibrates off my lips only making me want him more. My fingers trail up from his shoulders and into his sandy hair pulling him even closer. Because nothing is enough with this man. He's under my skin, filling my veins, and stealing my breathes in ways I know I will never experience with another man.

I can tell a part of him wants to keep the lazy, easy pace, but both of our needs outweigh that, and before we know it's back to our harsh and desire filled touches. Sharp bites followed by sweet kisses, rough tugs followed by soft caresses. Our actions such contradictions, and I love every moment of the war between our bodies.

"Please," I beg against his lips as his hands tease me not giving me fully what I want. What I need.

A dark chuckle falls from his lips onto mine. "You always want more don't you," he growls in my ear and my body arches up against his in hopes he will give me what I want.

"Only with you," I once again admit what my heart wants to cry out to Clayton. The three words as close as I can get to the real words I want to utter, but I won't do that to him. Can't do that to him. Saying those words will ruin everything, doesn't matter if they are true. Doesn't matter if I feel them through and through, they will remain locked away. I am already tainting this man, corrupting him to a level I know he fights with. I won't add to his pain.

His body pulls away from mine, a smirk tugging at the lips I've come to love. "Then you can wait a few seconds longer," he teases before getting off the bed, and leaving the space above my body. Leaving me cold and wanting.

I sit up and tug the sheet to cover my naked body. "Wait," I call out confused as to his sudden departure. "What?" I question as my eyebrows draw together.

"Hold on," he calls out from the corner of his room. I tilt my head as I watch him rummage through some bags, my eyes scanning his tan naked body. My body heats at the sight of his toned body, a body I'm sure would take many lifetimes to become bored of. My eyes linger a few seconds on his perfect ass, before flickering my eyes back to his actions. 

"Clayton," I groan wanting to dig my teeth and nails into every inch of his skin I just surveyed with my eyes.

"It will be worth it I promise," he assures before I finally see him secure a bag in his hand and turn to face me. The bag is medium sized, simple, with some tissue paper sticking out of the top.

He takes a few paces forward before placing the bag on the bed in front of me. My eyes stare at the bag, a bag that screams money and lusciousness.

"What is this?" I ask cautiously. I'm not use to people buying me gifts, besides the occasional coffees or Chinese food runs with Chase. I'm not one for expensive presents, or over the top luxuries. I'm never that girl.

Clayton places himself at the end of the bed. His hazel eyes are wide and eager for me to open his gift. "Open it," he urges excitingly.

My fingers trace over the pale pink tissue paper. Gently, almost like I'm afraid to hurt it. Hurt this moment. "You know it isn't Christmas yet," I tell him quietly. Nerves begin to overcome my body and I hate them, but around Clayton I also embrace the feelings that want to bulldoze me over. I don't hide and cower from every scary feeling, especially when Clayton is involved. 

"I know," he says. "But I won't be able to give this to you in front of everyone else," he explains with a small shrug lifting his muscular shoulders.

"Why?" I ask slowly. "Is it a toy?" I follow up with as a large grin breaks across my face. A part of me warms to the idea of his gifting me something we can both enjoy in this big ole' bed of his.

Clayton shakes his head in attempts to hide his smile at my question. "No," he chuckles lightly. "Just open it," he pushes with a small roll of his eyes.

My hands draw the bag in closer until it's seated in my lap. "I didn't get you anything," I say softly as my eyes meet his unsurely, and if I did it would be something small. Nothing as fancy as whatever he's giving me, and a bolt of insecurity hits me and it's awful and I immediately push it away faster then it struck.

He reaches out to let his fingers dance on the leg that's stretched out near him. "Believe me, this is something I've fantasized about you in," he tells me openly. "So it's really more a gift to me than you," he adds letting his fingers continue to trace my skin causing me to squirm slightly in response. His touch always turning me inside out with just the simplest of movements.

"Fantasized?" I inquire as I narrow my eyes in on Clayton trying to decipher what he could've gotten me. 

"Yes, so it's a completely selfish present," he states with an eager smile lifting his lips. Like he can't contain his excitement to have me open this gift.

I sigh, and finally surrender and pull the tissue out of the bag. There's box sitting at the bottom of the gift bag. I lift it out next and pull at the satin ribbon that is tied around it. I gently lift the top of the box scared I might damage something, even though I don't even know what lies inside the box yet. As soon as I lift the box and part another layer of tissue paper a gasp falls from my lips. 

"Clayton," I breathe in complete shock at the present in front of me. My hands gingerly reach out to lift the blush colored silk robe out of the box. The fabric melts against me, the color the perfect hue against my faintly tanned skin. It's just as I remember, just as perfect, and breathtaking.

"Do you like it?" he asks hesitantly, almost likes he's nervous.

"You remembered?" I comment, still in utter surprise that he's giving me this. The memory of running into him at the mall, at the lingerie store still burns in my mind. Before we kissed this winter break, before we touched, before we crossed that line that can never be drawn again, we were just two people. Two people running into each other at stores, his deep voice that urged me to try it on still heats my skin.

"Of course," he tells me. "The moment I saw you eyeing it I knew you had to have it. But I also knew I wanted to be the one to see you in it," his gravely voice states as his thumb traces circles on the inside of my knee. "Take it off of you," he adds as his hazel eyes darken to an almost sinful level making me want him even more. I still remember the image that filled my head at the idea of stripping this robe off for him. Even then he made me crazy.

The most delicate fabric brushes against my skin eliciting a small shudder from my body. "It's beautiful, but it's far too much—" I try and protest.

But Clayton instantly cuts off my words not having it. "Just say thank you, Hayley," his tone coming off like the demands he utters to me in the throws of pleasure, but the small smile playing at his lips shows me he's teasing. Though in a very serious manner. A very Clayton manner in all honesty.

"Thank you Hayley," I mumble out with a sarcastic smirk.

His eyes narrow in on me, darkening, he loves when I sass, when I show him the spark that fights within me. "You're funny," he drawls letting his fingers climb up further so their now tracing the sensitive skin of the inside of my thigh.

"I've been told I should do standup," I tell him almost breathlessly. He knows what he's doing with his teasing touches, playful scratches.

I pull the robe completely out of the box now and slip my arms through the water like silk so it hangs just off my shoulders.

"You look perfect," he all but growls as his eyes trace over every part of me he can. He even tugs the sheet away from my body to get a better look at me in only the blush robe.

My heart hammers in my chest, every muscle slowly growing tight, my stomach dipping as the more his eyes rake over me the more my body cries out for a release only he can bring. "Clay," I murmur wrapped in a need, wrapped in his desire filled eyes, wrapped in the gift he bought me.

But my single word breaks the moment, as his eyes widen. "Clay?" he questions obviously taken back by the name I called him.

I shake my head. "I'm so sorry does no one call you that?" I ask suddenly worried I offended him. "It just slipped out," I explain meaning now harm, not meaning to break the wonderful moment we were having.

"No one does," he voices honestly. "Only Scarlett did," he says after a long pause. My heart squeezes at his words. Guilt rams it's way through my body and slides through my veins leaving behind the shame of uttering something that reminds him of someone he loved. Or should I say loves, as he hasn't stopped. He told me she is the love of his life.

Another burst of pain follows at the idea that I will never be her, never be enough. Never be the love of his life. 

I wet my lips and drop my eyes from his. Embarrassment trails through me. Embarrassment that I said something that hurt him, and embarrassment that I let myself for a few moments think I was special. "Clayton I'm so sorry, it really did slip out I didn't know—" I attempt to apologize.

"It's okay," he speaks cutting me off once again.

"No, I won't ever call you that again," I tell him sincerely, hating the way that small word changed the moment we were having.

Clayton drags his hands so that they are on my waist before he slides me across the bed until I'm between his legs. "Hayley, it really is okay," he tells me honestly lifting my chin with his hand so that my eyes are locked on his. "It just took me back for a second, but I didn't hate it," he clarifies as his hazel eyes dance across my face, taking in my freckles and flushed cheeks.

"You didn't?" I ask timidly afraid to hurt this man who's dealt with enough pain to last a lifetime.

His hands tug on my thighs so I am straddling his naked form. "I didn't," he grumbles at the feel of our bare skin touching. "Can you say it again?" he asks as his hand lands on the side of my neck, his thumb caressing the side of my cheek. He tilts my head ever so slightly so he can have access to the delicate skin of my neck.

He bends his head and places a lingering kiss on my heated skin. "Clay," I breathe unable to do anything but listen to his commands and become a pliable mess under his hands. My body slowly burns, his hands only adding to the fire that seems to always flame between us when we are near.

"Hm..." he trails out as he continues to kiss his way down my neck. My body arches into him as my chest brushes against his own. The hand that's not controlling the angle of my neck is locked on my hip, holding me into him, slowly making my hips rock against his. "Yes, I don't hate it one bit," he rumbles before nipping at my skin.

He continues to kiss his way down the skin of my neck, biting, and sucking his way lower. His other hand brushing our bodies in a way that's growing the need within us. We are so close, wrapped in each other, and yet he won't make the shift to fill me yet. To make me whole.

"Say it again," he requests darkly letting his teeth skim the tops of my breasts.

"Clay," I moan as my head falls back, his hand still cupping my cheek as if he can't let go. Won't let me go.

"Who makes you feel this way?" he pushes as our bodies begin moving hastily against each other.

"Only you Clay," I tell him truthfully. "Only you," I repeat, and at those words he fills me, completes me.

Those are the last words spoken as our bodies make love to one another. The pink robe that once adorned my skin slides off my body and onto the bedroom floor. The silk slipping through my fingertips, just as the time left in whatever this relationship is begins to slip through as well.

As Clayton loves my body and kisses my lips a single tear falls down my cheek as we both fall over the cliff together. The tear filled with both the pleasure and pain I feel in this heartbreakingly beautiful moment.

Because all I can think is, he can't be mine forever.