Chapter 16

Claire

I tossed and turned in my bed, wishing I could somehow will myself to sleep, but it wasn’t working. All I could think about was him—him touching me, him kissing me, him getting to me.

After he dropped me off at home yesterday, I promised myself that I would spend my Sunday alone so I could further analyze the situation between him and me. I needed to write down my expectations, best and worst case scenarios, and weigh all the pros and cons of whatever the hell this was.

I even told Sandra and Helen to come over so we could discuss it over chilled wine and cheese—so they could distract me from calling or texting him.

All of a sudden, my “get ready to run” alarm started ringing. I knocked my phone off the nightstand to get it to shut up. There was no way I was running this morning.

My phone hit the floor with a thud, but the alarm kept blaring on and on.

“Ugh!” I rolled off the bed and onto the floor, feeling around for it in the dark.

Once I finally had it in my hand, I looked to hit “dismiss” but I saw that it was a phone call. It was Jonathan.

“Hello?” I answered.

“What are you doing?”

“At five in the morning?” I groaned. “Take an easy guess.”

“Are you on your way outside to let me take you away for the day?”

“What! No. I’m going back to bed. I went out with you yesterday. We don’t need to—”

“Can I please take you out for the day?”

“No. You should’ve mentioned this earlier. I have—”

“I’m not the ‘keep asking’ type, Claire. You have twenty minutes.” He hung up.

What?!

I lay on the floor, confused—processing what the hell was going on. I had plans for today—concrete, definite, no-Jonathan-allowed plans. I couldn’t let him keep doing these spontaneous things to me. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Then again, I wasn’t even sure what “this” was.

“Ten minutes.” Jonathan.

I sighed. I didn’t want to know what he would do if I didn’t meet him outside. I rushed to the bathroom and brushed my teeth.

I slipped into a pair of loose fitting khakis and a slimming red shirt, pulling a thin gray sweater over it. I went down to the kitchen and left a note on the fridge for Ashley and Caroline:

“I hope you both enjoy your off day today, but please make sure all the dishes are done by this evening. I left thirty dollars for lunch and dinner on my dresser. If your grandmother comes by for her mixer, it’s in my trunk. Love you! See you later, Mom.”

I grabbed a box of breakfast cookies and made my way outside, rolling my eyes once I saw Jonathan step out of the town car.

He held the backdoor open and smiled as I approached. “Good morning, Claire.” 

I didn’t respond. I slipped inside the car and slid over to the other side.

“Are you ignoring me?” He cocked his head to the side.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the door. I was too tired to engage in a conversation with him. I couldn’t believe his nerve—to think he could demand to go out with me at any hour of the day, to show up where I was and simply assume that I was willing and ready to follow him wherever he wanted to go. 

“Mr. Statham?” His driver’s voice came over the intercom. “Are we set to go sir?”

“Yes, Greg. Thank you.” He slid close to me and whispered, “Talk to me. Are you upset?”

“Yes...”

“What’s wrong?” He slid his fingertips across my cheek.

“You should’ve told me about this yesterday...You could’ve at least asked. What if I had important plans?”

“You don’t.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

“What the hell are we doing, Jonathan? What the fuck is this? I need to know right now. Where are you honestly expecting this to go?”

He sighed and reached over the seats ahead of us, grabbing a pillow and a blanket. He placed the pillow in his lap and pulled me down onto it. He draped the blanket over my body and shook his head.

I groaned. “Are you going to answer my questions?”

“No.” He fluffed the pillow and planted a kiss on my forehead. “It’s going to take us a while to get there and you seem tired. Go to sleep.”

––––––––

I looked out over the balcony and sighed as sheets of rain fell over the distant city. I was sailing on Jonathan’s newest yacht—an all-black luxury liner with six levels, and I’d spent most of the morning letting him give me a tour.

“Why do you always cut your sentences off like that?” He handed me a cup of hot coffee. “Are you scared I’m going to use your stories against you or something?”

“No, I’m sorry...What was I saying?”

“You always thought you and your ex-husband would—”

“Right...I always thought we would be together forever, you know?” I shook my head. “I gave him every part of me when we were married, and when it was over I didn’t have any pieces left for myself...And the one person who should’ve had her shoulder ready and waiting for my tears was lying in bed with him...”

“Did she say anything to you after the grocery store incident?”

“No.” My heart ached. “We never spoke again after that...And whenever my daughters come back from seeing their dad they know better than to give me a full recap.”

“Hmmm. Do you still have feelings for your ex-husband?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you still think about him or wish that you could’ve gotten back together if the circumstances were different?”

“I think there’ll always be a part of me that’ll love the ‘old him’ and miss the magic I thought we had but....a part of him always belonged to Amanda so...I’m sorry for bringing this depressing stuff up I just—”

“Don’t be.” He kissed my cheek. “I’m glad you did. Did you ever talk to anyone else about it?”

“I went to therapy sessions at Sandra’s practice...I had to force myself to go for the first few months, but after a while I started seeing how beneficial it was...”

He sighed. “If me and my mom could get through a complete hour of therapy without pissing each other off maybe it would be beneficial for us too...”

“Do you still talk to your foster parents?”

“I haven’t said one word to them since I ran away.”

What? “They never came looking for you?”

“Of course they did...The state police showed up to my dorm once I started taking classes, but I was eighteen so they couldn’t force me to go back.”

“They didn’t ask you for any money once you became a billionaire?”

“They didn’t need to.” He paused. “I’d always dreamed of getting them back for treating me so terribly, but I realized it was easier to forgive them and forget they ever existed. I took care of all their debts and gave them enough money so they won’t have to work for the rest of their lives.”

“That was very sweet of you. You didn’t have to do that...”

“They tried getting in contact with me to say thank you, but I never called them back. Probably never will. I told Corey to tell them the message was received.”

“Your foster parents are his real parents?”

He nodded. “He’s still mad at them for how they treated me, but he can’t write them off like I can.”

“And your foster sister? What happened to her?”

“Jessica? She’s my executive assistant.” He smiled. “When Hayley finishes grad school, Jessica will become a trust advisor and Hayley will be my new EA.”

“Must be nice...You plan on ever forgiving your own parents?”

He took a deep breath and balled his fists. He looked off into the distance and then he looked over at me. “Not for a very long time...Would you if you were me?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I guess I can’t imagine Ashley and Caroline not wanting me to be a part of their lives when they got older.”

“That’s because you always wanted to be a part of theirs...” He clenched his jaw and I knew that the conversation was over.

He was clearly still hurting from his past with his parents and I wasn’t sure if he would ever get over it; just like I wasn’t sure if I would completely get over Ryan.

We both sat underneath the ship’s awning and looked out into the rainy horizon, drifting into different memories, different places.

“What was your first impression of me?” I asked, trying to break the silence.

He turned to face me and smiled. “Jesus she’s sexy.”

“You’re lying!”

“It’s true. What was yours?”

“He’s sexy, but he’s wearing a hoodie so he’s probably way too young for me.” I laughed and he rolled his eyes.

“Glad we’ve cleared that up.”

“Have we?”

“If you think we haven’t, I can think of a few ways to make you say we have...” He pulled me close and kissed me. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this: Do you know how to dance?”

“We danced together at my birthday party before so I guess—”

“I don’t remember us really dancing at your birthday party...”

I rolled my eyes. “No...I just know how to sway to the music. I never took the time to learn.”

“Let’s work on that.” He reached for my hands and pulled me up. “You said you liked the dance floor on the top deck earlier, right? I think that’s the perfect place for a Sunday lesson.”

“The dance floor is outside and it’s raining...”

“How observant.” He laughed and walked me upstairs, into a room full of audio equipment. He flicked a few switches and the screens that were on the wall became blue.

“Good morning, Mr. Statham.” A gray haired man walked into the room and tipped his hat. “How are you today?”

“I’m great, Sam. Have I introduced you to Claire before?”

“No sir.”

He placed his hand on the small of my back and pushed me forward. “Claire, this is my captain Sam. He directs all of my yachts. Sam, this is—” He paused. “This is my girlfriend, Claire.”

Did he just say “girlfriend”? Is he out of his mind?!

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss.” Sam reached out and shook my hand. “The co-captain is now at the wheel sir. I’ll be retiring to my cabin for the rest of the day.”

“Thank you, Sam.”

I waited for Sam to leave the room and narrowed my eyes at Jonathan. “We have titles now?”

“Of course not,” he said. “I just thought girlfriend sounded better than ‘woman I like very much and love to fuck.’ But if you prefer that...” He hit another switch and the outdoor dance floor lit up. “I think we should start with the waltz. That should be easy enough.”

He grabbed my hand and led me outside. The rain was still drizzling, and a light fog was creeping onto the deck.

I heard the sound of strings and piano keys floating out of the speakers, felt Jonathan spinning me around to face him. 

“So,” he said as he looked into my eyes, “we should see if you have any rhythm first.”

He pulled me into his arms and moved me to the beat, but I couldn’t keep up. For every step he took forward, I stepped back—for every movement to the right, I awkwardly moved to the left. 

“And you clearly don’t ...” He laughed.

I let go of him and crossed my arms. I’d never been good at dancing; my mom had given up on me becoming her ballet protégé once I turned five. She even joked about how Ashley and Caroline must have gotten their dancing skills from Ryan.

“It’s okay.” He pulled me back and held my hands out in front of me. “Just let me lead and we’ll take things slow. Everyone has to start somewhere...Step right...Then left...”

He started adding more instructions—double-step, twist out, step back—and before I knew it we were waltzing across the wet floor.

I tried not to look into his eyes, to act like I was too focused on following his commands, but he made it so easy that I couldn’t help but gaze at him.

“At least you’re a fast learner.” He smiled. “Step to your right.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment... I assume you have a laundry room somewhere on the ship?”

“Why would I need one of those?”

“To dry my clothes after this?” I laughed as he spun me out and drew me back to his chest.

“I haven’t completely furnished the ship yet, but I’ll keep that in mind for our future.”

Our future?

“So, you honestly think you and I—”

“Are you analyzing us? What did I tell you about that?”

I murmured “fine” and looked off to my side. The city was now a mere blip in the distance and we were sailing towards the open sea—towards heavier fog and harsher rain. As more fog crept aboard the ship, I noticed that the original song had ended and another song—a much slower one with harp strings, was beginning to play.

I took one too many left steps and tripped over my own foot, nearly falling to the floor before Jonathan swooped down and caught me.

“I guess you don’t have a sense of direction either.” He smirked and pulled me up. “You’re off to a good start though.” He pushed me against the railing and lowered his head to mine, keeping my body trapped within his arms.

I shut my eyes as he slid his tongue against my lips and softly forced them apart. I moaned and threaded my fingers through his wet hair, kissing him back like my life depended on it.

He broke away and pulled my sweater over my head. Pressing his lips against mine, he whispered, “Have you ever had sex in the rain?” He started ripping the buttons off my soaked shirt.

I shivered as the cold air hit my bare skin. “No...”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“Me either...Until today that is.”

I gasped and untangled myself from his embrace, ignoring the heated glare he was now giving me. “Are you kidding me? Do you have any regard for privacy? At all?” I took several steps alongside the railing, making sure I was far out of his reach. 

“Get back over here. Now.”

“What if another yacht rolls by and sees us? What if someone from your crew comes up here looking for you and sees us having sex?”

“He’ll record it and put it on YouTube.”

“I’m not joking! You don’t find that inappropriate?”

“Can I buy you a thesaurus?”

I rolled my eyes. “I know you’re used to pushing the envelope, but you have to admit that—”

“My crew never bothers me, and do you see any other ships coming our way?” He stepped towards me before I could get away, pressing me against the railing again. “As a matter of fact, have you seen any ships sailing today?”

“No...”

“No?” He reached behind my back and popped my bra snaps. “Why do you think that is?”

“It’s Sunday...People don’t sail until the late afternoon?”

“Sunday is actually the best day for people to sail.” He flung my bra across the deck. “And they start sailing early. There were over three hundred yachts docked at the port we left and not a single one of them is setting sail today. Why is that the case?”

I could see my breaths suspending in the air amidst the raindrops, could feel my nipples hardening in the cold. I covered my breasts with my hands and shrugged. “Too foggy?”

He popped the button off my pants and yanked them down. He ripped my panties off with one hand and tossed them out into the sea. “Try again.”

“Because...” I was withering under his ‘I’m too angry to play games with you’ stare. “Because...You paid all those people not to sail today?”

“I did. Because the woman I’m dating insists on keeping our relationship a secret for some strange ass reason. I think she’s scared to admit that she really is ashamed of me.”

I sighed. “For the umpteenth time, I’m not ashamed of you. I just don’t want other people—”

He bit down on my lips. Hard. “If you’ve fulfilled your ‘I-must-be-difficult-with-Jonathan’ quota for the day, I would like to end this date properly—and by properly I mean fucking you against this railing until you can’t walk.”

“I—”

“Or talk...”

I gasped. My knees had already gone weak from him saying those words.

“I like you a lot, Claire. I really do.” He pulled a condom out of his pocket and let his pants fall to the deck. “Stop trying to fight it... It’s okay for you to like me back.”

“I never said that I didn’t like—”

He crushed his lips onto mine and lifted me onto the small ledge that jutted out from the middle of the railing. He spread my legs apart and drove his dick inside of me with one thrust—filling me with every thick inch all at once.

He grabbed onto the slippery railing above my head and moved in and out of me, keeping his lips attached to mine, preventing me from crying out in pleasure.

The rain started to pick up speed, started to unleash heavier drops on us, but he didn’t seem to care. He kept punishing me with his slow thrusts, kissing me senseless, ignoring the hard scratches I was leaving against his back.

I moaned against his mouth, begging him to stop kissing me so I could breathe, but he didn’t. He made love to my lips, exploring every inch of them with his tongue.

I felt our hips jerking at the exact same time and felt a scream rising up my throat, but he muffled my mouth with another kiss that pushed me even further to the edge.

I can’t breathe...I can’t breathe...

He let my lips go for a split second, to say, “Let go” and my body convulsed and shook—every nerve ran wild and exploded.

“Jonathan...” I caught one breath and fell into his arms. I felt him pushing me back against the railing, felt him pulling out of me. “I think I need to—”

“Stop talking.”

“But I—”

“Do. Not. Say. Another. Word.” He narrowed his eyes at me. He reached down to the deck for his pants and pulled out another condom.  “You don’t need to say anything for the rest of the day.”