HIS By Design -Coveting Claire (3 page)

No?  Well he'd a pretty good idea.
 His designs were worn by women who were not afraid of their
own femininity and Claire hadn’t always been aware of her
womanhood.  This was certainly not the case now. Every inch of
her declared her sex, but he accepted the laughing comment she
offered to cover her embarrassment.

"Probably because I couldn't afford
them."

Shrugging, he took a sip of his drink his
eyes twinkling at her over the rim before he replied.  "You
get what you pay for."

"Mercenary!  And here I was hoping you'd
offer me a discount."

He laughed.  "I'll think about it.
 Why don't you work on me a while?"  He put down his
drink.  "Have you eaten?"

"Yes, but it was plastic, plane food.  I
could easily eat again."  Taking one last sip she handed him
her drink. He placed it beside his own.

"You usually can.  Okay, let's get out
of here and find somewhere equipped to handle that horrendous
appetite of yours."

"Horrendous!  Of all the nerve.  My
appetite’s healthy.  You're just used to models who starve
themselves, that's your trouble."

He squinted at her as if assessing her and
said. "Well, you're alright now, but I'd be careful if I were you.
You wouldn't want to fill out too much more."  She was a lot
more than alright, but he didn’t tell her so, comfortable with the
light-hearted mood their banter had produced.  He shook his
head.  "A few more pounds and you might have to curb your
healthy appetite."  Still shaking his head he walked away
intimating she was a hopeless case.

Claire ran after him giving him a playful
push before taking his arm in hers.  “Just for that you can
take me somewhere really fancy.  If you're not going to give
me a discount the least you can do is buy me a decent meal."

"Who said I was paying?  You're a
working woman. You can buy.  It's about time you bought me
dinner."

"What! I fly three thousand miles to see you
and you refuse to feed me. Some friend you are!"

Their banter continued as they walked out,
Julian flicking the light switches as they left, darkening the
scene of their reunion.

Over dinner, Claire kept the conversation on
professional or on general topics.  Every time the discussion
threatened to move into her social life, she steered adroitly away
from the subject.  Finally after the waiter had put their
desserts in front of them, Julian asked her outright about the man
she’d been seeing in New York.  It was typical of him. He’d
only take evasion for so long.

"We split up."

"I see.  That wouldn't have anything to
do with your transfer back to L.A., would it?"

Claire shrugged feeling miserable.  She
wanted to confide in him, but not in a restaurant.  She put
him off.  "I'd rather not talk about it, right here and
now."

He nodded, but gave her a thoughtful look. He
knew her well enough to realize when she was upset.  

Attempting to lighten the mood, she asked him
mischievously. “What about you?  America’s Most Eligible
Widower?"  She meant the teasing remark as a playful reference
to a recent prominent media poll he’d topped, but regretted it at
once.  "Sorry, that was heartless of me."

He smiled.  "No, thoughtless perhaps,
but not heartless.  Claire, Susanna died seven years ago. It's
not a subject you have to skirt around."

Glad she’d not offended him, Claire continued
eating, but grew thoughtful.  Looking across the table, she
speculated for the second time that evening about why she’d never
seen him in a sexual light.  Had she subconsciously decided
not to compete with the memory of the beautiful woman known to the
public as Susanna Ainsley, award-winning star, and to Julian as
Susanna West, his much-loved wife? Claire narrowed her gaze.
 It was an illuminating thought. One that opened up new
horizons.

In that illumination Claire found her
thoughts suddenly return to their first meeting. How could she have
forgotten how much he affected her when she walked out of her
apartment door to see him bounding up the stairs with that lithe,
animal grace of his? She smiled, remembering that he’d been annoyed
with her for buzzing him up without checking. He’d lectured her for
not being more careful. She'd completely forgotten the dynamics of
that meeting, mainly because she was embarrassed when her awkward
attempt at flirting made her feel foolish

“
You always this bossy?”

“
With naughty girls. Yes.”

She was embarrassed by her response to him.
She’d feared the attraction wasn’t mutual and buried the memory.
Now when she brought it out and dusted it off in the light of her
newly gained sexual knowledge and confidence, she recognized the
exchange for the sexy little scene that it was. She looked down at
her plate and bit her lip. Oh boy. They’d had a definite sexual
exchange and she’d stupidly missed it. She felt hot
remembering.

And what was with his whole bossy mode and
naughty girl thing? Polite, reserved Julian? Who knew? She
attempted to control the rapid flush of desire the memory evoked.
Claire liked bossy men. Not too bossy. That just pissed her off.
But men who were sexy about it and hinted at retribution for
misbehavior got her all hot and bothered. She found herself drawn
to that quality in a man. A few men had playfully called her a
naughty girl and threatened her with a spanking, making her heart
thump and her body flush with sexual heat. None had followed
through. Despite all the current hype about spanking and dominant
alpha males, she'd come to believe that typically most men were
just talk in that department.

Claire shifted in her seat. Julian was not
your typical man. In all the time she'd known him, he was anything
but just talk. He stood by his word. That knowledge combined with
her heated memory of the exchange at their first meeting was an
erotic, enticing shocker. Claire swallowed and looked across the
table at Julian's refined hands and virile physique. What would it
be like to feel the force of his hand wielded with the vigor of his
powerful arm? How much would it sting as it connected with the
tender flesh of her rounded buttocks? Would her nipples and clit
grow and peak as she struggled across his muscular thighs?

Claire wriggled in her seat and closed her
eyes. She felt the heat flush her whole body as the vivid details
of that scenario invaded her psyche. Pressing her thighs together
she felt her pussy moisten and then become rapidly wet as her
wanton thoughts fired desires she craved yet never expected to have
aroused by her safe, uncomplicated best friend. For a wild moment,
she allowed herself to wallow sinfully in the sensual sensations
the powerful image aroused.

Opening her eyes, she cast the image from her
head. Willing it away, she forced her treacherous passions to pay
attention to Julian’s face and conversation, but that only
succeeded in making her aware of the eroticism in the deep timbre
of his voice and the sensual curve of his mouth in his sinfully
handsome features. What would it be like to feel that mouth roam
over her body lingering in forbidden places?

“Claire?” Julian’s voice broke through her
thoughts and her heart flipped at the sensual note in his voice.
Despite the implied concern in his words, there was an underlying
eroticism in his tone that hinted at a knowledge of her sexual
response to him. She met his inquiring eyes and saw a shadow of the
passion she knew must be reflected in her own gaze. Holding his
knowing stare, Claire knew they both recognized that moment for the
shift in their relationship that it was. Biting her lip, she shook
herself. This wasn’t what she'd bargained for when she got home.
She thought she'd be escaping her sexually confused feelings, not
uncovering some more.

Julian’s eyes dropped from what she was sure
was her doe in the headlights look and suggested a nightcap at her
apartment. “We can have some privacy that way,” he told her
meaningfully.

Claire told herself he was referring to her
earlier reluctance to discuss her break up in a public place, but
deep down she knew he was proposing more. She blushed as her answer
seemed engineered to further what he offered. “My apartment won’t
be vacant until Sunday. I was hoping you might put me up until
then.” She looked away and tried to lighten the import of the
moment with a comment that steered away from the highly charged
sexual tension in the air.  “I was looking forward to a swim
in the ocean tomorrow."

She wasn’t aware that she’d been holding her
breath until he smiled, allowing the mood to lighten. "Oh, so you
want a bed as well as a meal," he reproved her playfully, reaching
across and taking the check.

Regardless, her mind was full of what might
be.  Did she imagine that his hand lingered more on hers than
necessary? Did his emphasis on the word ‘bed’ hold the innuendo she
thought? A heat seeped through her when he touched the base of her
back to usher her out of the restaurant towards the car park.
 

While walking across the deserted lot, he
answered the second half of her statement as if it had just sunk
in. "Are you crazy, the water's cold at this time of year?
 It's still winter."

"You're the one who's crazy. Winter, I just
flew in from snowbound New York, remember?"

When they reached his car, she turned to face
him. She leaned against the solid metal for support, suddenly
cautious of where they might be headed. In her confusion, she
grasped at a safe way out.  "I could always stay at a hotel if
it's too much trouble."

He looked down at her and she heard him let
out a long breath. He emanated a low passion – a passion she wasn’t
sure she should attribute to annoyance or desire. Taking her by the
shoulders, he turned her swiftly so she was facing the car, her
back to him. Unsure of his intentions, she gasped in shock when he
applied a couple of swift, sharp swats to her backside. One to each
vulnerable buttock. The short spanking was so close to her earlier
thoughts, she clutched her rear in a mixture of indignation and hot
desire.

Leaning the front of her body against the car
for support, she wondered how he expected her to respond to his
spanking of her. No doubt it was feminist etiquette to object
haughtily, but her desire won out. Rubbing her bottom, she turned
her head to look at him. To her mortification she was unable to
keep the revealing, breathy huskiness out of her voice. “What was
that for?”

Leaning in with his hand on the car roof, he
seemed to tower over her. She felt his ragged breath hot on her
neck. The disciplinary tone in his voice aroused her even more as
he chided her in a sensual reprimand. “Hmm. Let’s see. Where should
I start? How about not telling me you were arriving a day early
when you have nowhere to stay. I might have been out of town.”

“Oh.” The sense in his observation made her
blush.

“Not to mention insulting my hospitality.” He
moved closer to her so she was only just aware of his hard arousal.
She heard his low growl in her ear. “Move your hands.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Gulping, Claire dropped her hands
obediently.

Crack
. This time the smack was harder.
Claire found herself whimpering a little as he punctuated each word
of his reprimand with a hot blow of his palm to her heated flesh.
“You…
Smack
…hate…
Smack
…hotels.”
Smack
. In
contrast to the punishment, his next words were offered in a
soothing, intimate tone that caressed her ear. “Don’t you.
Claire?”

She emitted a little sob in agreement.
“Yes”

“Alright, so no more foolishness about
staying in one.”

Opening the car door, he helped her into the
vehicle. Claire attempted to offer a dignified response, but could
only summon up a petulant harrumphing sound mixed with a
treacherous moan as she sunk into the leather of the car seat. She
felt her pelvis clench and a warm glow pulse through her as contact
with the supple seat caused the heat of his smacks to flow
insidiously across her tender flesh.

As Julian entered on his side of the car, she
rallied enough to throw him a quelling look. Tossing her head in a
very feminine gesture, she told him saucily. “I’ll thank you to
treat me with a little more respect.  You might've known me
since I was practically a teenager, but that doesn’t mean you can
treat me like a kid. I am now a sophisticated, mature woman, in
case you hadn't noticed."

Julian laughed richly. Why had she never
noticed the sensual sound of his laughter before? He looked across
at her deliberately, a smile flitting across his lips, an
unmistakable inflection in his voice.  "Oh, I noticed."

They were both silent during the drive to
Julian’s beach house and now, Claire sat curled up in the corner of
the large leather sofa that faced the ocean in Julian's living
room. Still feeling a bit surreal over the unexpected turn of
events, she watched him as he lit a fire in the fireplace that
dominated the north wall. He’d taken off his jacket and tie and
rolled up his sleeves as he went about the task. Noticing the
muscled strength of his forearms and the dark hairs that grew on
them, she felt a shiver run through her. There was something
incredibly erotic about a man's forearms when they were good to
look at. His definitely were. Wriggling on the part of her anatomy
he’d so recently used the strength of his forearms to warm, she was
surprised at how quickly the heat of the spanking had
faded. Only a slight glow remained from the initial fiery
throb.

As Julian stood up, his back to her still,
she admired the breadth of his shoulders before she let her gaze
stray lower. Hmm, how could she never have noticed what a great ass
he had?  Smiling, she took a sip from the brandy snifter he’d
settled her with before he began. She hadn't wasted much time
stepping out in the direction of those new horizons, had she?