Feverish (Bullet #3) (16 page)

Chapter Fifteen

CLAY LAY QUIETLY as he slowly rejoined the
land of the living and the wakeful. He wasn’t sure how long he’d
been asleep, but based on the quality of the light streaming into
the room, it was quite a bit later in the day.

Goddamn, that was nice. He hadn’t had sex in
a few weeks, and that was worth the wait.
Emily
had been
worth the wait. But what the fuck had he done? He just couldn’t
keep his cock in his pants, could he? He’d crossed that imaginary
line she’d warned about. So what now? Had he fucked it up for good?
She was the best thing that had happened in his life in a long
time. Had he completely ruined it?

Well, he wasn’t going to think about it—at
least not yet, not now. He wanted to enjoy himself, at least for a
few hours. He was still feeling blissful, still riding that high,
and he didn’t want to ruin it. He just hoped she wasn’t regretting
it.

She was still sleeping. He’d worn her out
too. He had the feeling that she and her fiancé had had another
argument like the one they’d had when they were in California. Why
else would she come running to him when she’d hardly shown any
interest in him before that? Sure, he’d caught her looking at him
once or twice, but that didn’t constitute full-blown interest.
Yeah, he was just a port in a storm.

He thought he might be okay with that,
because Emily was pretty fine.

He smiled, remembering what she’d said about
his dick. She’d said his size intimidated her. He’d heard that
before. He found it funny because he wasn’t huge, not by a long
shot. Porn stars—those guys were fucking monstrous. Clay might have
been larger than average, but if girls could take a porn star, he
was nothing.

He took another breath and finally rolled
over some so he could see the time. It was close to six o’clock.
And he was hungry as fuck.

He could hear that new song rolling around in
his head too. He needed to get together with Brian and tell him
what he could hear in his head. He had a definite sound he was
aiming for, but he wanted to tell Brian what he was thinking and
see what his friend would come up with. He and Brian had evolved
enough songs for Clay to know that what Brian brought to the table
was just as important. Clay would start out with one idea, and
Brian would bring it crashing to the ground in the best way
possible.

He sat up. He was torn—did he call Brian
right now and tell him he had something he had to share with him,
or did he go to the kitchen and tear through the fridge?

Actually, he had to take a piss first. She
was still under his arm, and he didn’t want to wake her up, but as
the realization hit him, it became somewhat urgent. He lay back
down so he could pull his arm straight out and there would be less
risk of waking her. He found it odd that they’d slept so long, and
he thought maybe it was because they’d stayed up late the night
before watching movies. She’d admitted that she hadn’t seen many
movies in the last several years due to her grueling school
schedule, so they’d stayed up later than planned. Maybe that was
why they’d slept so long and so hard.

As he lay back down to pull his arm out from
underneath her, his head rested on her hair. He loved the way it
smelled—fresh and with a scent he couldn’t place. It made him want
to wrap his free arm around her again and hold her close.

It made him want to take her again.

God, yeah, he had to get up. He managed to
get his arm out from underneath her with not too much effort, and
then he sat up and got out of bed. He walked around it to get to
the bathroom. Out of habit, he just left the door open while
pissing in the toilet and then hoped she wouldn’t get out of bed
and catch him. He knew girls hated that shit, and he couldn’t
believe he’d done it without thinking.

She hadn’t walked in on him, though, so that
was good. Next stop—the fridge. He hadn’t eaten since late morning,
and now he felt like he could eat an entire cow. He walked back
into his bedroom and she was stirring. He must have awakened her.
Seeing her? It made him change his mind about priority. He wasn’t
so hungry after all.

But she might not have the same idea. Oh, he
could hear a lot of things rattling around in the back of his head,
things he wasn’t ready to think about, but he did need to come back
to reality. Yeah, there were the awkward
morning after
moments to be dealt with, even if it really was simply later in the
day. The heat of the moment was past, and they had to view each
other in light of the fact that they’d just fucked. He knew he’d be
okay. He’d had to do it so much in the past decade and with people
he didn’t care about, so it was something he could handle.

Or could he?

He wasn’t sure if he had any stars-and-flower
feelings for Emily, but he already liked her as a person. He
respected her and he cared about her as a friend. He definitely did
not want to hurt her, so maybe he had to handle this a little
better than he often managed to.

Maybe, as much as he hated to do it, they
needed to talk.

Where the fuck were his jeans? He remembered
they were in the living room, so he retrieved them and slid them
on. He was sliding the zipper up when he walked back in the
bedroom. He had a plan, so he sat on the edge of the bed where
Emily lay. She looked peaceful. Her dark hair was pulled back from
her head, so he could look on that porcelain skin and tender neck.
Her eyelids were fluttering a little, so he was sure she was waking
up. His voice was barely more than a whisper when he said, “Emily?”
She moved her head a little. “Emily, you awake?”

She turned her head up a little as if trying
to wake up the remainder of the way. “Hmm?”

“You awake?”

She took in a deep breath that turned into a
yawn, and she brought her hand up to her mouth to cover it. Her
eyes were still closed. “Yeah, I think so.”

He couldn’t help it. Her bare shoulder was
too tempting. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. “I, uh, I
wondered if you wanted to maybe grab a bite. I’m starving.”

Her eyes opened then, and he could see them
focus. She looked at him and said, “Yeah, sure, I could. What do
you have in mind?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. You said Chinese food
usually caters to your filthy vegan ways.” She smiled. Good—she
knew he was messing with her. “There are a couple places not far
from here.”

She stretched, still under the sheet. Damn.
He was hoping to get another great view of her tits. They were
really nice—not huge, not like some of the porn star boobs he’d
seen, and definitely not fake and inflated like some of the women
he’d boned in the last few years, but they were still shaped
nicely. He could hold one inside his hand. He didn’t need more than
that to be happy.

Stop.
No, this probably had to end
here and now. Much as he wanted to bury himself deep inside her
again, he knew it was a bad idea. She herself had said it, and
yet…

No. He’d promised himself the opportunity to
enjoy what had happened just for tonight. Tomorrow they could go
back to the way things had been. In fact, they should talk about it
before parting ways tonight. She could go to her room; he could go
to his; and they could wake up the next day and pretend it hadn’t
happened.

No, he couldn’t pretend they’d never done it.
They could, however, be adults about the whole thing and choose to
get past it. He’d explain to her that she was right. Absolutely
right. It had been a dumb idea to give into their animal urges.
They needed to stay on their proper sides of what she’d called the
employer/ employee line. It had been stupid of them to do, and
they’d have to keep their hands to themselves from this point
forward.

Aside from still wanting her, he could do
that.

And she seemed capable of doing it. She was
one of the most professional people he’d ever met who actually
intrigued him. Most business types seemed boring to him. Emily
instead felt three-dimensional and had character. She was
fascinating.

God, he had to stop. He took a deep breath
and she said, “Cool. I guess I should get dressed.”

He couldn’t help himself. “Unless you want me
to get takeout.”

She smiled. “You’re funny. Just give me a few
minutes to make sure I don’t look like complete shit.” She got out
of bed, and it didn’t escape his notice that she went to the other
side of the bed. She was avoiding the awkwardness too. There was an
entire island to crawl over on the other side, but she went that
way anyway, rather than get too close to him. Maybe she felt even
stranger than he did. Well, he wasn’t going to say something about
it and potentially make it worse.

Okay, so maybe he needed to get ready too. He
watched her saunter out of his room. Goddamn, did she have a fine
body. He took a deep breath and got up, walking over to his
dresser. He pulled out the t-shirt on top, a black Trapt shirt. He
hadn’t worn that one in a long time. He smiled, because he knew
Mary liked to rotate his clothes to prevent wear. She knew him too
well. He always grabbed whatever was on top of the pile, even if
he’d worn it a few days earlier. He hadn’t had that problem in the
old days. Back then, he just wore whatever was clean or at least
the least smelly. He smiled. Once the shirt was on, he got a pair
of socks on and then found his black Converse shoes in his closet,
right where Mary had put them.

Fuck. He’d have to make sure Emily’s clothes
were out of the music room before morning too, because Mary always
showed up bright and early on Mondays. And if Mary knew they’d had
sex, she would read Clay the riot act. He just knew it. In the
meantime, though, he went into the bathroom again and brushed his
teeth.

Just a few minutes later, Emily joined him in
the living room. She definitely was fuckable. She was wearing a
short colorful skirt and a clingy white tank top with low white
heels that made her calves look incredible. Clay knew he looked
like a fucking slob next to her. That was okay, because they
weren’t going anywhere fancy, but dinner was going to be difficult,
because he wanted just one more round with this gorgeous woman.

Dinner first. He’d need his strength for what
he wanted to do to her.

Chapter Sixteen

EMILY COULD PLAY nice. She’d done it plenty
of times. She could definitely be pleasant and polite with Clay.
After all, he’d given her two incredible orgasms earlier that day.
He was unbelievable in bed, and she wouldn’t have suspected that.
His penis had completely freaked her out. She’d never seen nor felt
one that large and now she felt bad for any other man she slept
with from this point on, because she’d always compare his size to
Clay. There would really be no avoiding it.

Still, while she was playing nice on the
drive to the restaurant, she was mentally kicking herself in the
ass. That had been completely stupid. She’d been feeling emotional
and hadn’t wanted to turn into a weepy pile of shit. Instead, she’d
thought it would display strength of character to hold the tears
in.

The second part of the equation, having a
meaningless fuck, she hadn’t clearly thought through, because—even
though she thought she was burying her emotion—she was actually
just channeling it elsewhere. She was in reality a hot fucking mess
inside, and she was surprised she was able to maintain a cool
exterior.

She was pretty sure he’d considered grabbing
her hand as they walked out to his car in the garage. One thing
she’d say about Clay—he had great taste in cars. He had a black
Corvette that was like a piece of art. It handled like a racecar,
and the few times she’d been with him while he was driving, she was
sure he was going to get pulled over. He drove faster than he
played his guitar, and that was saying something.

The hand-grabbing, though…that freaked her
out a little. Still, he didn’t actually do it, so she started to
think maybe it was her imagination. She thought maybe she should
try to make conversation, but they didn’t talk much on the way to
the restaurant. Clay said something here and there but got one-word
answers from her, and he finally just sang along with the
radio.

He had a sexy singing voice. She would never
tell him that, but it was nice. A little low, no gravel at all (not
that she would have minded), smooth and solid. She knew he did
back-up vocals for Last Five Seconds, but all the guys in the band
did, and they usually were screaming and growling. She had no idea
he had such a nice voice. She doubted he’d want it advertized,
either, considering he had one of the most hardcore bands out there
right now.

When they got to the restaurant, she never
would have imagined he was a bad boy rock star. He opened her car
door for her and helped her out, and he placed his hand on her
lower back to lead her up to the entry. He opened the door to the
restaurant as well. Fortunately, he wasn’t staring at her or
anything, but could things feel any weirder?

She’d have to be honest with him. Today had
been a huge mistake.

Part of her disagreed, yes, because she
didn’t think she’d ever been made to feel that fantastic in her
life. She wasn’t inexperienced when it came to sex, but she was
pretty sure she’d been sheltered when it came to that kind of
thing. The lovemaking she’d experienced before felt sterile
compared to Clay, even though they hadn’t done anything out of the
ordinary. It was just plain old sex…but there was something about
the way he did it that made her feel tingly and excited.

She was looking at the menu but thinking
about the things he’d done to her, and she almost blushed when he
asked her if she knew what she wanted to order. She looked up and
gave him a small smile. “Yeah, I think so.” She let out a long,
slow breath. Why the hell did this have to be so difficult?