California Nights (Rich Boys of California Duet 1)

“Yes, my pet?”

“Can you please–”

She was so polite. It was a reminder of everything I was fucking up. Because I was fucking scared of what I was feeling. I knew she would never forgive me. But right now, I had her in the palm of my hand.

“What is it sweetheart? What do you want me to do?”

“Can you please… can you please fuck me!”

I grinned and stood up, finally taking my hand away. I stared at her while I peeled the rest of my clothes off. Shoes, socks, pants, boxers.

Then I had the last bit of my meal. I savored the taste of her as I cleaned her of every single drop of maple syrup ff her pretty little pussy. My face was sticky by the time I was done.

I climbed on top of her, letting my boner scrape over her skin teasingly.

“Fuck me already, Clay!”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

I guided the tip of my cock to her swollen pussy lips.

“Actually, you didn’t really ask did you? That was more of a beg.”

She let out the sexiest fucking moan as I pushed forward, sliding into her.

“I do like it when you beg, Nevada. Remember that.”

And then I gave her what she wanted.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Nevada

Bastard.

Devil.

Sonofabitch.

Clay pulled my nipple into his mouth as he circled his hips. But oh God, could he fuck. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. Every second.

He always had.

And I hated him for it.

Almost as much as I loved him.

There was a very thin line between love and hate after all…

Right now though, I was too busy having my third epic orgasm of the morning. The morning which was going to ruin my mom’s relationship with the Westfields.

The morning that Clay had set out to humiliate me.

I just wasn’t sure why.

I wasn’t going to lie. It hurt. It kind of felt like my insides were on the outside. I felt like he’d tricked me.

Betrayed me.

And that didn’t even begin to cover what this was going to do to my mother. Piss her off first of all. Put her job in jeopardy… maybe.

Maybe, just maybe I could find a way to sneak out.

“Clay… why are you doing this?”

His eyes looked pained when he looked at me. He was pushing me away. I could feel it in my gut.

Well, it was working.

He was nearing his peak. I could feel his control slipping. His eyes were hooded as he stared down at me. I felt my body start to quiver as he stiffened above me, filling me with his essence.

He bucked wildly, always loosing control at the end. Usually, I found it sexy. Actually, I still found it sexy. But this time it also pissed me off.

It pissed me off a lot.

But then he looked at me with the strangest expression. He looked… regretful. His hands found my face and he leaned down to kiss me tenderly.

He did care. No matter what other bullshit was going through his head. No matter what angst he was taking out on me.

That is the exact moment that his stepmother chose to walk into the room. She knocked but didn’t wait for an answer. To his credit, Clay tried to cover my face with his arms and shoulder. Not that it did a damn thing.

“What the fuck, Claire?”

I could see her pinched face from under Clay’s arm. She knew who I was. She was going to cause trouble for me.

And my mom.

I could not have felt worse at that moment. It was simply not humanly possible. I wanted to sink into the carpet and disappear. I wanted to run.

Of course, that was kind of hard with a six foot tall man lying on top of you. And your hands and feet tied to the bed posts. And a huge fucking cock pinning you to the mattress.

Then things got even worse.

“This is not a frat house, Clayton. I expect you to take your little ‘friend’ elsewhere. Immediately.”

She turned to go, throwing me a cold look over her shoulder.

“And tell her not to come back into this house. Ever.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Clay

My father was pacing back and forth in front of me. I was in his office. I hated it in here. I never got good news in his office.

Not since the day he’d tried to explain to me that my mother had gone away.

Forever.

“How could you Clay? Things have already been tenuous to begin with.”

I took a swig of my drink. I’d started drinking immediately after untying Nevada. She’d been stone faced and silent as she pulled her clothes on and walked out of the room.

And out of my life.

I could give two shits what issues my father had. I had way bigger problems. Like the huge hole in my chest.

It was cheesy as hell but true. I could feel her absence where my heart was. I knew I had fucked things up with us. But I was already trying to figure out a way to get her back.