CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They didn’t make love that night in Clay’s bed. Lying in each other’s arms, they talked. It was as if a fire hydrant had been kicked open, their conversation overflowing with thoughts about life, ambitions, dreams, and the future. Katie had a newfound respect for Clay because of what he so intimately shared with her sitting on the park bench across the street from the Ryman. Everything made sense. She thought back to their senior year in high school and remembered how quiet and shy he was—how he only opened up through music when he was on stage performing in that silly variety show. How she wished she knew then what she knew now, admittedly, she would have tried to get to know him better. She was grateful that fate had given her a second chance, bringing them together again after all these years.
“Where do you see yourself in the next decade?” he asked tenderly, stroking her bare back with his fingertips. His other arm was stretched and perched behind his head.
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I suppose I could go for a bigger position at my company. Take a trip overseas somewhere?”
“What about relationship-wise? You ever think about settling down with someone? Having a family?”
Katie shifted, staring up through the skylight at the illuminated twin spires of the Batman building that scraped the sky six hundred feet into the air. “Every girl thinks about that, I suppose. I’ve just never fixated on it. I figure if it’s meant to be, the right guy will come along and sweep me off my feet.”
“So, you’re a romantic?” His tired voice tinged with humor.
She rested her chin on her hands on his bare chest. “I like a nice Southern gentleman if that’s what you’re asking. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Pulling his arm from under his head, Clay pulled her closer to his chest, sighing in the darkness. “Nope. Nothing wrong with that at all. It’s a good thing I’m from Georgia.”
“It’s my favorite state in the US,” she teased, knowing he was baiting her. “Clay?”
“Huh?” he replied sleepily.
“Thanks for being so transparent earlier. I know this is a hard decision for you.”
He was silent for several seconds before he kissed her forehead lightly. “Good night, Pretty Girl.”
Closing her eyes, she mumbled. “Good night, Georgia Clay.”
***
Watching Katie sleep transfixed Clay. Staring at her beautiful porcelain face and full lips parted slightly in slumber, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was dreaming. He hoped her dreams were blissful. She lay on her side next to him with her hands folded under her head. He so wanted to reach out and touch her—to tuck her hair behind her ear and run his fingers along her soft cheek. He wanted to wake her up and make love to her delicious, curvy body slowly and intentionally. The growing morning bulge between his legs caused him to shift uncomfortably as he turned his thoughts to their long conversation the night before. Discussing his past childhood trauma was something he had never done with another woman. He kept that part of his life a secret, not wanting to carry any baggage into a relationship at the risk of being tormented by the opposite sex if his impediment were to resurface. There was something about Katie that made it easy for him to open up—to talk to her honestly and emotionally about what he had gone through. Her reactions were astonishing, her concern touching. He now understood her success in the business world, because she was such a great listener. What he couldn’t comprehend was how she had remained single for so many years.
He watched her long lashes flutter; her large doe eyes suddenly fixated on his face, her lazy grin immediate.
“Good morning,” she said in a low, hoarse voice.
“Good morning, Pretty Girl,” he replied, stretching his arm out to touch her cheek. “Did you sleep well?”
She turned and lay on her back extending her arms and legs in a cat-like stretch. “Like a rock. How about you?”
He smiled. “Like a stump.”
They looked at each other for several seconds before Clay couldn’t help himself and slid his fingers under the sheets, across her warm tummy, down to her soft mound. She closed her eyes and moaned, opening her legs for him.
“I wasn’t expecting to wake up to that,” she said breathily. He explored her secret garden with his hand, making her writhe with desire.
“You like it?” he whispered, watching her body come alive.
“Yes,” she exhaled, gyrating against his hand.
Lifting the sheet, he straddled her and gripped his boner between her legs sliding into her wetness ever-so-slowly. Katie gasped, looking up at him with her mouth wide open.
“Are you sore?”
“Yes—but it’s a good sore. Don’t stop,” she insisted.
He leaned his forearms on either side of her head, captivated by her beauty as they pulsed slowly together. “You feel incredible. So tight and wet.”
“You feel so good…”
