“Am I hurting you?” she asks. “Just tell me if I am, okay?”
I don’t answer, gritting my teeth as I try to get my thoughts in control. That’s easier to do than my body, my hairs standing on end as heat rages throughout my veins, the mad rush of adrenaline with it.
This is why I don’t like having my hair combed.
“Sebastian?” Clarissa appears in front of me, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you...?”
She stops, her eyes holding mine. Without releasing them, she brushes a tangle of hair out of my forehead, her touch sending a jolt of heat through me.
“Now, that’s better.”
Her soft voice, paired with that gaze and that scent of desire I now pick up from her in waves makes my nostrils flare.
I swallow as she purses her lips. My gaze is drawn to them, watching each lip as they unfurl like petals coming into bloom and then part.
My cock throbs.
This is dangerous. Very dangerous.
Suddenly, Clarissa steps back, unsure.
The scent is gone, the moment lost. And I’m left torn between relief and frustration.
“Now, I know why you don’t comb your hair,” she mutters. “It’s hard.”
“It is,” I answer through my clenched jaw.
“By the way...” She taps her fingers on the mantel. “I’ve decided that as soon as the storm dies down, I’ll go to wherever the nearest phone is and make a few phone calls. Someone still has to know what happened.”
I take a deep breath. “Are you sure?”
She nods.
“Because I was thinking that maybe you should stay,” I tell her, stretching my neck from side to side to relieve some tension. I can’t believe I’m suggesting this.
“Stay? I can’t...”
“Just until I can get some answers.” I sit down, putting some distance between us, while I lay things out. “While I was out earlier, I thought that you don’t know what’s going on with you and neither do I but I know someone who might.”
Clarissa walks towards me. “Then I’ll come with you.”
I shake my head. “No, Clarissa. If you come with me, he might not see us. He’s not...exactly friendly.”
“But I can’t stay here. I have to go and let someone know I’m alive.”
I get on my feet. Maybe I’m being unreasonable but this is a puzzle that needs an answer. “Don’t you want to know what’s happening to you?”
“I do. But...” She scratches the back of her head on her way to the couch. “Maybe not yet. Anyway, let me do this first and then...”
“But...”
“Sebastian, I have to go,” Clarissa says firmly.
I can’t let you go. My response is automatic. I can’t even explain it to myself. I’m not sure I want to.
Please?
Please? I’m supposed to do what now, nod and roll over and beg for a belly rub? But she looks at me with those big eyes of hers, and I start to wonder what’s so bad in belly rubs. Against my better judgement, I nod. “Alright. I’ll take you in the morning.”