Claiming Caroline (Claimed 3)

Chapter Three

Caroline

"You look incredible when you're coming, Caroline," Jared murmurs, nuzzling his face into my throat to place a searing kiss against my sweaty skin. I'm seated in his lap, straddling him. I have no idea how I got here. The last thing I remember is a bomb detonating inside of me, causing an avalanche of bliss to crash down on me.

I called him daddy.

Part of me is afraid to lift my head to look at him, afraid to see the judgement and censure in his eyes. The other part clings to his broad shoulders, not wanting to let go. No one and nothing has ever made me feel as utterly adored as Jared does. I don't want this magical night to end.

I can take care of myself, but something about letting Jared do it feels right. So much so that it's a little terrifying. I think it might break my heart if he's disgusted by what I said.

"Come home with daddy," he whispers, almost as if reading my mind.

I lift my head, my shocked gaze meeting his somber one.

His mossy eyes flit across my face. There's a gleam of satisfaction in those green pools, of pride. I think…he's glad I called him that.

He feels it too.

My fear unravels, blown away just that easily.

"You want me to come home with you?" My hand, in a total disconnect from my body, reaches out. My finger strokes his cheek, in the same spot the little divot appears when he smiles. The stubble on his jaw scratches my skin, sending a delighted shiver through me.

"More than I want to breathe, princess," he says, turning his head to nip my wrist. "I need more time with you. A few stolen hours aren't enough. I want you in my bed, in my house."

I want that too. With a desperation that's foreign to me. Somehow, this incredible man has ensorcelled me, coaxing out the wanton, wild woman who wants to spend the night lost in him, who screams for daddy and loves it, but…

"I can't," I whisper, regret heavy in my voice. "I want to more than anything, but I promised my sister…" I bite my lip to stem the flow of words threatening to spill forth. The ones that tell him I lied about my name…that I'm not even supposed to be here tonight.

Whoever he is, he isn't a student. Which means he probably works here. If I tell him the truth, I make him complicit in a stunt that could very well get me and Kennedy both expelled. I can't do that to him.

He sighs, sending fine strands of my hair dancing all around my face. "I don't want this to be over."

"Me neither." And I don't. I really, really don't. Nothing has ever felt this right or natural to me before. I bite the tip of my tongue, thinking. "Maybe…maybe we can see each other again?"

"Is that what you want, sweet baby?" he asks, cradling my face in one palm. His perceptive gaze rolls over me again, searching. "You want to see me again?"

"So bad," I whisper, tears stinging at my eyes as a wave of longing rises up and crashes over me. Maybe this is crazy, but I feel connected to him in a way I never have before, like he's a piece of me, something important.

The tenderness in his smile steals a little piece of my heart. The relief in his eyes steals my breath. He really does feel it too.

"Then we'll see each other again." He seals his promise with a lingering kiss, and then he groans as if he's in pain. "Would you think me desperate if I ask to see you tomorrow?"

"No," I whisper. The thought of not seeing him for even that long is a stinging bite.

His lips curve into a relieved smile. That tiny divot appears. "You are not what I expected to find here tonight, Caroline Kennedy."

"Neither are you."

"Why did you come if you didn't want to be here, princess?"

I watch him for a moment, deliberating over how much to tell him, eaten up with guilt that I've lied to him. "I have to tell you something, but you can't ask me any questions, okay?"

"Tell me."

It's no request, but a demand, softly spoken.

"My name isn't Caroline Kennedy."

"I know."

"You do?"

A soft puff of laughter escapes his lips. "You're a terrible liar, princess."

"I didn't want to lie to you, but it's…complicated."

He doesn't like that much. His brows pull together into a fierce glower. "Is someone bothering you? Making you do something you don't want to do?"

"No," I hurry to assure him, not wanting him to think the worst. "Of course not. It's nothing like that. I just agreed to help my sister fix something her jerk of a professor almost ruined. But I can't tell you what. Oh!" I whip my head around, looking for a clock, but of course there isn't one in here. There's no furniture at all. "What time is it?"