She winced, remembering the fight with Sarah and the harsh words between them. Too tired to think, she ignored the blinking answer machine in favor of a shower and sleep. She fell into bed and was out as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Sometime during the few hours remaining of dark she dreamed of big warm hands and a hard presence at her back. Warmth seeped into her aching back, and she moaned and burrowed closer. She breathed in and wanted to curl that masculine scent around her like a blanket. She sighed out a breath and swore lips caressed the back of her neck beneath her hair.
Clytie woke up the next afternoon with a smile on her face, until she stretched and every muscle in her body protested. Between Demon and her art, she had seriously overtaxed her muscles.
She convinced herself to get up by promising herself a soak in the tub. She chose the lavender bath salts for relaxation and dropped into water almost too hot for her skin. The wet heat made her think of Demons whirlpool tub, swimming pool size as opposed to hers that barely held enough water for her to fully submerge. Demon would never fit. She groaned, bent her knees, and dunked her whole head under water. No thinking about Demon.
She pulled herself up and slicked back her hair. On the other hand, Wow. Her hand palmed a breast as she remembered how he made her feel. She shook herself, reaching for the towel as she stood up. Time to get back to work before she did something stupid, like called Demon for hot monkey sex. Then she would never get anything done. Except Demon. Her body pulsed with the thought. Beyond tempted, she groaned shaking her will power back into place and standing up. She dried herself briskly then slathered on the lotion. She combed out her wet hair and dressed for another day of playing with hot wax.
On her way downstairs, she caught the message light on her answer machine again but kept ignoring it. She did not want to be any more tempted to call Demon, and she wasn’t ready to field questions from her family yet.
The week was long but productive. By midnight Thursday, she had worked like a dervish and finished all but the largest piece. At this point, she might be ready for a second show and come morning she would call and inform Marion at the studio. In the meantime, she had one more week before her first professional gallery showing. She breathed deep trying to still the butterflies that took flight when she thought of her showing. It was even worse now because she wasn’t sure if Sarah and the kids would still come. Did she want Sarah there?
If the fight had been strictly about Demon, she could deal with it. She didn’t like that Sarah had taken one look and rejected him but that could maybe be attributed to overprotective older sister. It was the judgments on the rest of her life that Clytie hated. Sarah had acted like only her opinion counted, and her opinion was that Clytie should continue to work for her and stop playing around with her art. It meant Sarah did not really see her and that hurt, a lot. She was the only sister she had left and one of her few good family connection but she was becoming as judgmental and closed minded as the rest of them.
She needed someone to talk to. Cassandra was the only one who might understand and she was probably sleeping about now. Tomorrow, she would call and talk to Cassandra tomorrow. As the other black sheep of the family, she would understand the situation. Clyties stomach growled insistently, reminding her, she had other concerns tonight.
This time she had peanut butter toast and a shower before falling into bed and conking out. She fell asleep thinking about Demon, just like she had every other night. Tomorrow, she would call him tomorrow.
Apparently Demon wasn’t willing to wait that long.
The morning was half gone by the time Clytie awoke. She stretched her arms above her head enjoying the warmth at her back. The hand on her thigh pulled her back tighter against a hard body. A nose burrowed deeper under her hair to nuzzle her neck. Clytie froze, trying to think back to a moment when someone, a naked someone from the feel of it, would have been invited to her bed. No such thought came to mind but she knew it was Demon behind her.
How did he get in? Stupid question. Hello, Security specialist. Was it paranoia on her part to think maybe this wasn’t the first night he had slept in her bed? O.K. yes the thought was a disturbing one. Now the important question: Why was he making a habit of sneaking into her bedroom?
Clytie turned over to face him. His eyes were open.
“Morning baby.” His voice was a rough growl, and immediately her nipples pebbled like he had run his tongue over them.
“Do you make a habit of things like this?”
His hand started making soothing circles on her hip.
“A habit? No.”
“I could get freaked out by this.”
“You could.” His lips found her neck and nuzzled. It made Clytie catch her breath.
“It’s important for me to know that should this relationship end you won’t become some crazed stalker with combat training.” Her little speech would have been more powerful had she not ended with an arch of her neck and a moan, but what can you do?
“Won’t.” He growled low, his lips moving up her neck to just beneath her chin.
“You won’t become a crazed stalker?” Clytie found herself unexpectedly on her back with Demon above her.
“We won’t end.” He said, both hands cupping her face, his weight braced on his elbows. He nipped at her lips and she grabbed his arms for stability.
“We won’t?”
“No.” Intense and possessive, his eyes were hot enough to brand.
“OK.”
“You aren’t afraid of me.” More a command than a question it made Clytie smile.
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
Her smile faded and her eyes became serious. “I missed you.”
“Good.” The wealth of satisfaction in the growled word made her laugh again. His marauding lips captured hers, stating with every thrust of his tongue he had missed her too.
Clyties t-shirt and panties disappeared in shreds under his ruthless hands. She didn’t have the breath left to protest. His hands trailed down to capture a breast, holding it captive for the lips that soon followed. Clytie arched with a gasp and moaned his name, her hands clenching into his hair to hold him in place.
“Oh no baby. I’m driving.” He clamped his teeth down on the breast in warning and she yelped even as heated cream pooled in her sex. She let go of the death grip she had on his hair and he laved her abused nipple with his tongue before trying to suck her breast down his throat. In the mean time, she was so wet and ready her thighs were slick with it. Finally, he left her much-coddled breasts and moved down her body. When she managed to lift her eyelids, it was to see Demon on his knees. Between her thighs, he held her open at the knees engrossed with the view of her spread out before him like some pagan offering.
“So fucking beautiful.” He growled. His eyes finally lifting to meet hers with a fire scarcely banked. “Mine baby.” He cupped her sex inserting his big finger down to the first knuckle. She arched with a cry, loving the way he filled the emptiness he created. “This is mine.”
Clytie might have been able to form some kind of argument against his proprietary claim but at this moment in time, she couldn’t recall why she’d want to bother.
“Demon please.”
“Did you touch yourself without me baby?”
“Did you?”
Demon tsked, “Wrong answer.” He flipped her over leaving her empty once again and smacked her ass.
Clytie squeaked. “I am not a child.” But her independent words lost something with her head buried in the pillow.