Chapter 8
Was it a sin to forget the world outside of them? Or was it a greater sin to deny what they had between them?
Claire knew what she wanted to believe when she fell on Jake’s bed with him on top of her, like she fantasized in the days following their first encounter.
This feels so right. This is the kind of man I really want to be with. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that age and status didn’t really have much to do with it. Did she prefer a lover her own age? Of course! Yet Jake could’ve been the same age as his father and still be a much more attractive man. It was the kind soul radiating his warmth that made her fall so hard for him. Even when they first met at the party, she felt it. An aura she often didn’t encounter in LA.
A man like Jake – handsome, kind, and available – didn’t come around so often. That same man being so into her? Not just because she was beautiful? She would be a fool to deny him!
Yet I feel like the biggest fool of all. The biggest, happiest fool.
Jake’s kisses were strong, and his body upon hers was unlike anything she felt in a tiny, cramped closet. Wasn’t it, though? His strength alone had pinned her against a wall, and the man had only broken a sweat because he fucked her so hard. So he was strong! Perhaps he was weak-willed enough that he couldn’t say no to her, but it wasn’t the same as a lack of character. Jake Carter had too much of that – and it’s what attracted Claire first and foremost.
The fact he was hot to the touch and eyes was another story.
“Yes…” Claire was already his, but the fact remained unchallenged when he slipped his hand into her lingerie and stroked her wet folds. “Fuck, yes, do it.”
The same urgency from their first encounter was there, so it was strange to realize they had all the time – and comfort – in the world. They could take their time. They could explore each other’s bodies. They could experiment with different positions and play with one another as if this were something more than a quick and dirty romp that was never supposed to happen.
All Claire could think about was fucking him. Raw. Dirty. She wanted the raw feelings while still acknowledging how filthy this was. She might as well own up to what they were doing.
If he could be on the same page as her…
“I’m not holding back,” Jake said. He was halfway finished with undressing her, his hands as busy as his lips as they made love to her skin and brought pleasure to the flesh beneath. “I’m giving you everything I’ve got.”
Claire brought his lips down upon hers. His fingers were inside of her, the rest of her body screaming for more attention. Then do it, you fool. Take me. Make me yours. Make me feel like I’ll never belong to any other man in this world. She rode his fingers and welcomed him to touch any part of her he wanted. Her throat. Her nipples. That little spot beneath her breasts and the dip of her lower back. The back of her knee. The tops of her ankles. A trail of kisses from her big toe to her little toe. She wanted the intensity of a hot and sweaty encounter with the tenderness of pure lovemaking. Who knew? Every chance with Jake might be her last chance to have it all.
She yanked his shirt off and tumbled on top of him, his fingers slipping out of her and falling over the edge of the bed. Claire straddled his naked waist and felt the bulge of his erection straining against his trousers. Didn’t take much to get him hard around her, huh? “Is this what you want, Jake?” She drew her nails down his chest. He closed his eyes, his breaths staggered and his body quivering beneath her touch. “Do you want me?”
“Why the hell wouldn’t I?”
Claire bent down and kissed the light brown hairs covering his chest. Her hand worked his cock out of his pants.
“No turning back?” His tip lingered in her wet opening. Claire fought back the demons dragging her down on top of him. Or maybe those were angels doing the devil’s sinful work. What was good and what was wrong were mired in her addled head. “You screw me again, and we’re in this hell together.”
Jake was a man of little words. He preferred to thrust upward, hands clasping Claire’s hips as he took her for a second time. The cry of elation she uttered filled his humble apartment, but nothing compared to the groan coming from his lips. He knew what he wanted.
She slammed her hands against his chest and urged him to help her find a rhythm. When everything was colored with the hot white light of pleasure, and her body became nothing more than a vessel for his whim, Claire rode him as if she had never been granted such a wondrous opportunity.
In many ways, she hadn’t. While it wasn’t her first show at the rodeo, it was the first time she felt this level of desire with another man. Desire for his body, his words, and the looks he gave her every time they were in the same room. I want him to fuck me as much as I want him to talk to me. If Claire could hold a conversation about what it meant to be a career-driven woman in Hollywood while they had sex, she would. Unfortunately, she was mortal, and she had to choose one over the other.
In that moment, she chose to fuck him.
His hands guided her hips, and his moans guided her heart. This was the most dangerous game she could play, yet here she was, full of this man’s cock and hoping he would completely lose himself within her once more. She wanted that level of intimacy as much as she wanted to keep this moment going forever.
Her thrusts only slowed because she came, much sooner than she anticipated, and with as much suspense as a string coiling on the floor.
“Oh, fuck.” Jake’s thumb and fingers squeezed into her hips. If Claire thought she was getting away from him anytime soon, she was sorely mistaken. Jake was married to keeping her right there on top of him, her body clenched around his cock and threatening to steal everything he kept close to his heart. Like his lingering feelings for a woman he wasn’t meant to have.
He must have known it too. Because before Claire could even think about finishing her climax, Jake overtook her and pinned her back against his bed. He moved so quickly and so carefully that he didn’t slip out of her body until the final moment – and by then, he had surrounded her with his now naked form and covered her in heavy kisses.
“Take me,” she whined into the firm muscle gracing her lips. “Do it hard.”
“Is there any other speed with you?”
“No.”
He didn’t want to talk anymore. He wanted to fuck her, and Claire was inclined to let him get everything he had to say out in that fashion. Especially if it meant she spread her legs wide.
It was as good as she knew it would be.
He let her make as many noises as she wanted. Hearty moans, little whines, and cries of pleasure that would have torn apart lesser women now graced the air, and sometimes only the back of Claire’s lips. Whenever Jake kissed her like he did toward the end, with his tongue against hers and his whole body bearing down upon her, Claire couldn’t get any sound out besides a muffled groan of greed.
“Hard enough for you?” The headboard slammed against the wall with that sentiment. Jake had her to his hilt, his balls slapping against her ass and her back arching so her body could take more of him. There’s no more to take! What are you doing? No, there was always more. There were ways to make a man feel even better, bigger, harder. Claire was going to figure them out right now. “Because I’ve still got more in me.”
“Do it,” she said again. “Tear me apart if you have to.”
Oh, he would. And he would bring himself down with her.
Claire relished the sensation of being completely split open and offering herself to this man. He could have her. Every inch of her that he could reach. Every sound, every taste of her sweat and the top of her tongue, and every inch of her skin was his to drink. All he wanted in return was her open soul and a chance to believe that this could be their everyday reality.
The pressure was too much. Claire came again. Her hands latched onto his stiffened arms, and she effortlessly met the last of his thrusts before he joined her.
So. Warm. Everything, from the air on her skin to the seed inside of her was too warm to bear. Claire was tired of these limitations to her body and mind. She longed for a world in which she could always take more, more, more.
Until then, she would have to live with Jake slowing his thrusts and eventually collapsing on top of her.
They lay still for a minute, their heavy breaths the only sound to be heard. Claire held her hand to her brow and wondered if she would ever be able to walk again.
She was grateful that was her first thought after having sex with Jake. Not… other things. Other, more obvious things.
“That was amazing,” she finally said. Claire was only compelled to say something because the experience wasn’t over yet. Jake had so much in him that it now freed itself from her body and trickled down her thighs. Every inch of skin covered reminded her that she could have that again if she wished. Jake was right here. With any luck, he would always be here.
He remained quiet, however. His chest gradually slowed its heavy breathing before he turned toward her, his hand on her stomach and his lips on her shoulder. Claire had never felt so safe with someone before. Was this what it felt like to be content? In love?
No. Don’t do that to yourself.
“If I could run away with you right now,” Jake softly said, “I would.”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“You think I’m not serious?”
That was the problem. She did think he was serious. Claire barely knew this man outside of a few encounters, but he had a hopeless romantic lurking inside of him. Doesn’t get that from his father. Arthur was as much of a hopeless romantic as a toad drying out in the desert sun. Looks like one sometimes, too. Claire shuddered. The closer she got to her wedding day, the more she questioned what the hell she was doing.
No, what made her question everything was falling into bed with Jake. What’s wrong with me? Don’t I know what I’m doing? She wasn’t only risking her engagement, since double standards dictated Arthur could dump her for even looking at another man, while she would put up with his philandering to get another shot at that elusive “security” thing people always harped about. No one would really blame me if I dumped him because he constantly cheated on me, but is that what I want to do? Yes. No. She didn’t know anymore.
“Can I ask you something?”
Jake groaned as he forced himself up, leg cocked and rigid muscles rolling toward her. “You had my cock inside of you. Think you can ask me anything you like.”
“What do you really think about your father?”
Sighing, Jake flopped back down onto his pillow, although his body remained pressed against hers. The sweat on his skin and the scent of his aftershave lulled her into a false sense of security. If only it was you I was betrothed to, Jake. Why didn’t your father think of that? Because it was 2017, and he thought his son wouldn’t be interested. Because Arthur was greedy and wanted a hot, young wife for himself.
“I think my father has good intentions, but is an insufferable nitwit. I don’t go home very often, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Good intentions? Is that why he so happily offers roles to women in exchange for sex?”
“Or marriage, apparently?”
“Still sex. Just legitimized.”
Neither of them commented on that.
“It’s hard to explain, especially to women.” Jake placed a hand on Claire’s arm. “Because we don’t see the effects of what we say and do like you have to feel them. My father is so set in his ways. I’ve given up trying to get him to see reason. It’s hard to do it in this industry.”
“So you’ve never swapped sex for industry favors?”
“No. Unless I was the one getting the favor, I guess, but I’d probably remember that.”
“That’s what I’m doing, huh?” Claire sat up and buried her face in the tops of her knees. Arms wrapped around her legs. Toes dug into Jake’s comforter. “Marrying a man I don’t even love or find attractive, inside or out. Because I want favors for my career.”
“Is that really the only reason? Seems there are less messy ways to go about it.”
“My family doesn’t have a lot of money anymore, all right? I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t float through life pretending to have an acting career when my inheritance won’t be enough to sustain me. I have a degree in theater, for fuck’s sake. I can’t waltz into an office and get a job to support myself. I don’t even know how. I… this is the fate I was prepared for. You don’t hear about it anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And I’m sorry I’ve roped you into this. I’m marrying your father, Jake. We can’t be doing this. I could destroy whatever relationship you have left with your father.”
He was silent a moment. Then, “I wouldn’t mind it. There would be worse things than no longer being in my father’s life.”
“Like not being your mother’s life?”
Jake contemplated another answer. “You asked me what I thought of my father? Everything I think of him stems from how he treated my mother. I don’t disbelieve a single thing she’s told me. I don’t think a woman divorces her husband and goes into isolated retirement for a small transgression.”
“I thought he just cheated on his wives.”
“Years of that wears on a woman. Especially a woman who loved him, I guess.”
Carmen loved him? Claire hadn’t known younger Arthur, so maybe there was something she didn’t see now. Better looks. More believable charm. The energy to keep up with a sense of adventure and so much promise. Love was blind, anyway. Carmen Dominguez became Carmen Carter because of love, not money. I can only imagine that kind of freedom.
“Did your father love her at all?”
“Yes. He did. I think he still does. He doesn’t understand why she divorced him. As his son, it’s the most frustrating thing about him. My mother was true to him for the length of their façade of a marriage. He didn’t appreciate that, so she left. She’s always been heartbroken about it.”
“Your father may still be in love with her on some level, but he is certainly not heartbroken about losing her.”
“Of course not. Because he keeps getting to do what he’s always done.”
Claire bristled against his body. “So is that it? Is he replacing your mother with me? Is that why he had that ridiculous painting of me done?”
She hadn’t expected Jake to answer. Let alone with what he did say. “My father didn’t have that painting done.” He paused. “I did.”
“What?” Claire lifted her head.
“It was done by my friend, a professional portrait artist. He asked me if I had any interesting subjects for him to tackle, so I commissioned that painting of you. It was supposed to be a wedding gift.”
“What?” Claire hopped off the bed. “What was the point of doing that? It looks like the painting of your mother!”
“I assure you, that was not a parallel I was trying to draw.”
“Well, you drew it.” At least Claire knew what she needed to do. This man wanted to draw shit? They could start by drawing some firmer boundaries between them, like not letting something like this happen again. “I can’t do this, Jake. Let’s forget this happened. I shouldn’t have… we shouldn’t have… oh, God, what the fuck have we done?”
“Claire…”
She grabbed her clothes and locked herself in his bathroom, where she cleaned herself up and attempted to shimmy back into her outfit. Here comes a new wave of nausea. She knew what this one was for, though. She had transgressed a level of sin that no woman was meant to endure. Sin she had foisted upon herself, and sin the world insisted she consume instead of the usual, healthy sustenance she was always told to eat. Fall in love. Get married. Maybe have some babies. That’s what I’m supposed to do.
What if she was doing it all backwards? What if she lived the human experience in the wrong way?
She found Jake waiting for her on the other side of his bathroom door. He had pulled on a pair of sweatpants and continued to look every bit the handsome male model that meant he was his mother’s son. Carmen Dominguez was one of the hottest women of the late ‘70s… I never stood a chance.
“I’ve gotta go.” Claire grabbed her bag. “Goodbye.”
He held her back by the shoulder. An explosion of desire consumed Claire once more, but she fended it off, determined to put as much distance between them as she could. Distance was great. Distance meant he wouldn’t be around to torment or, worse, seduce her.
“You keep thinking it too, right?” He released her, but she did not hustle out the door. “That we should’ve been brought together instead.”
“Don’t. Don’t do this.” Claire turned from him again.
“That’s how fate works, though.” Jake continued to speak even as she forced herself into her shoes. “It taunts you until you believe every lie it tells you. I thought it was fate that the woman I silently fell in love with became engaged to my father, but it was the wrong kind of fate. It was twisted.”
Claire hesitated in the doorway. “So write a script about it. Write a movie where the father and the world he commands understands what’s happened and gives his blessing to the stupid couple. You can pretend I’m starring in it.” She slammed the door behind her.
Tears fell down her cheeks as she raced to the elevator. She didn’t realize until then how much this situation tore her apart.