Page 52 of The Outsider
Claire
Dinner was heaven, and by the time I finished, I was certain roasted turkey was my new favourite food. My mother would’ve been ashamed of me. I abandoned all table manners and ate like a desperate, starving vagrant…probably because I was. I sunk my teeth into a drumstick and moaned at the fatty, smoky flavour on my tongue.
“You and that turkey need a room, Claire?” Asha asked wryly, and I laughed without thinking. She was teasing me the way she used to.
“Never thought eating could feel this good,” I answered with a shrug before ripping off another chunk.
John gave my knee an affectionate squeeze. When I finished the drumstick, he pushed more on me, and by the end of the meal, my stomach was full for the first time in a while.
We retired to the tiny back bedroom of the cabin, where John lit another fire in the small fireplace. I laid out our sleeping bags in front of it for warmth. Even though the wood floor was hard and battered, it was better than sleeping on the cold ground. Better still, there wasa door we could close, and some semblance of privacy—something I dearly missed.
“You want a bath?” John asked, stoking the flames with an old, rusty poker that’d been left by the fireplace. “Might be the last time for a while.”
“Uh, obviously,” I said incredulously, and he laughed. “I feel disgusting.”
“That makes two of us, then.”
He refilled the cooking pot with snow and heated it over the fire until steam rose in hot, irresistible tendrils. It wouldn’t be a proper bath—there was no way to do that here—but a nice sponge bath with hot water was still better than nothing, especially with how much traveling we were doing. It may also be our last thorough wash for some time, because with how cold it was, we wouldn’t be able to do more than a quick wipe down under our clothes without risking hypothermia.
I fetched washcloths from our bags and handed one to John before soaking mine in the hot water. I peeled off my clothes, staying near the fireside to keep warm. John did the same, taking off his jacket and long-sleeved shirt to reveal his lean, muscular body. A little shiver went through him at the cold air, but he sighed with pleasure as he swept the hot cloth over his torso.
I couldn’t help but stare, my own washcloth forgotten in my hand. Given the lack of privacy and the cold, it’d been weeks since I’d seen him fully naked, and just as long since we’d properly made love. Mostly, we had quick, stolen moments of passion here and there, with little time to savour it. The rest of the time, we were both so exhausted from travel that when neither of us were on watch at night, we fell asleep immediately.
My eyes followed the hard, beautiful lines of his body, down to the small trail of hair that led to his groin. The flickering firelight gave his skin an alluring luminosity, and I felt overwhelmed by the need to touch him. He’d unbuttoned his pants before he noticed the intensity of my gaze.
He grinned. “See something you like over there?”
I swallowed hard. “No. I was just washing and thinking about…wholesome things. Cute animals. Grandmothers. A baby’s laughter.”
John’s bark of a laugh told me exactly what he thought about that. He shed his pants and boxers, making it even harder not to stare as I took in his naked form. A tremor that had nothing to do with the cold went through me, and heat suddenly pulsed between my thighs.
“You seem to be having trouble focusing,” John said wryly, and I made a face at him before we finished scrubbing ourselves down.
When we were both done, John moved closer and took the washcloth from my hand. He skimmed my neck with it, spreading wet warmth over my body as the water trickled down my bare breasts. I sighed as he moved down, bathing me with laser-like focus, raising goosebumps on every inch of my flesh.
“Let your hair down,” he murmured as he circled my nipple with the washcloth. His gaze was soft, and the request felt deeply intimate.
I unwound my braid, letting loose waves fall over my shoulders and down my back. John watched me with a new intensity, his eyes moving over the curves of my body, the locks of my hair. He circled me, not unlike a predator surveying prey, gazing at my nakedness in the glow of the firelight.
After a moment of exquisite tension, I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached over and put my clammy hand on his bare chest. He inhaled sharply at my touch and gave me a look that could only be described as wolfish before covering my hand with his.
“I want—”
John cut me off with a sloppy, hungry kiss that lasted only a second before he pulled back again.
“Kneel.” His voice was rough, suddenly edged with need.
It was not a request, and deep, urgent arousal coiled deep in my abdomen as I lowered myself to my knees in front of the fireplace. I wanted to take him in my mouth like this, to give him pleasure, but the floorboards creaked as he knelt directly behind me.
John kissed along the crook of my neck, twisting a hand in my hair to gently pull my head back.
“I want you,” I said, almost a whine. “It’s been too long.”
He sighed in a helpless way that told me he agreed. Distantly, I heard Asha talking in the main room, followed by Kimmy’s giggles. John nibbled at my neck, making me moan loudly, and the giggles abruptly cut off in response.
“Naughty girl,” John whispered in my ear, and I shuddered. “Wouldn’t want to get caught, would we?”
“No,” I breathed, even as I felt wetness blooming between my thighs.
