Page 30 of Captivated By You
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
CLAUDIA
Two weeks later
Claudia was shimmying her tight little ass to the ear-piercing drawls of country music when I walked into the kitchen.
In the last two weeks, we’d talked. A lot. I’d taken my time, my palms callused, not from playing my guitar and writing new music, but because of the number of times I jacked off every day to thoughts of when she’d give herself to me. We laughed, we swam in the ocean, and ate lunch on the beach. We played basketball in the pool, went out to eat in the small local town. I’d taken her out on a fishing tour where she smoked my ass in bringing in a small shark. I was loving every damn thing I was learning about Claudia.
But her taste in music was shit.
“For the love of God,” I groaned, pressing my finger and thumb into my eye sockets. “Can’t we keep the squawking off until I’ve had coffee? Or better yet,” I snapped my fingers, “all the time?”
She turned to me from her place at the counter where she was dicing cantaloupe and muskmelon and smirked. “Sam Hunt does not squawk. He’s swoony.”
I shook my head and stole a chunk of cantaloupe on my way to the coffeepot. “Swoony my ass. I know men who are worth swooning over.”
She laughed. Probably because I was saying things like ‘swoon.’
“Yeah? Who?”
I’d done exactly as I promised her I would two weeks ago. I touched Claudia when I was close to her. When I walked by her, I’d often drag a finger against the small of her back. Tiny touches, gentle ones that always let her know that not only was I thinking of her, but I wanted to sink my dick deep inside her. In two weeks, my fascination with her hadn’t changed a damn bit.
I did the same thing now. With my full cup of coffee, I set it down next to her on the counter and moved in until my chest was pressed against her shoulder. With one fingertip, I trailed a path down the alabaster cream of her throat. We’d spent hours every day in the sun and she barely had a tan. I had a newfound appreciation for sunscreen and the wide-brimmed hats she wore to keep her face and shoulders sunspot free.
“Come on, sweetheart. You have to know other men who are more swoon-worthy than Sam Hank.”
“Hunt,” she corrected with a scowl. I knew Sam. I was just fucking with her because I liked her irritated little looks. “And no. I’m not sure I know a man who’s sexier than him.”
She turned back to her task of cutting up fruit, but I wasn’t deterred. She trembled when I touched her flesh and her lips parted. Eyes went hazy.
“Liar,” I whispered. I was close enough to brush my lips against her ear. Her cheek. It wouldn’t be the first time I did it, but I liked teasing her. I went closer, lips brushing along her ear and her jaw. “You know another man sexier than Sam. Admit it. A rock star, perhaps? Someone who plays the electric guitar, who has tattoos you can never stop staring at?”
She shuddered. My dick hardened. I couldn’t wait until she made those sounds and movements beneath me. On top of me. Below me on her hands and her knees with her eyes blindfolded and her wrists tied to my headboard.
She was turning me into a kinky fucker, but I had nothing but fantasies, and I’d fucking fantasized everything and then some.
“You’re right. Ed Sheeran is pretty hot, too.”
I slammed a hand to my chest and barked out a laugh. “You’re killing me, Claudia. Ed? That ginger? Over me?”
Her own shoulders shook with laughter and she popped another chunk of cantaloupe into her mouth. The juice ran down her fingers and I couldn’t look away. All that sweetness. The juice, her fingers, her lips.
I stepped back and adjusted myself, groaning. “Fuck, sweetheart. What are you doing to me?”
For once, she truly looked innocent. “What?”
I shook my head and scooped a healthy amount of fruit into a bowl for me and grabbed a fork.
In two weeks, we’d somehow settled into some sort of domestic routine I never knew I’d enjoy until I had it.
I woke up early and worked out. Went to my small studio room and worked on music. At some point while I was scribbling lyrics and playing the guitar and keyboard, Claudia woke up. She usually went for a swim in the pool and by the time I took a break from work, she was preparing breakfast for us.
The first time she’d done it, I told her she didn’t have to.
She ignored me and kept doing it so I stopped scolding her. She needed something to do to feel like she was “earning her keep.”
