square.”
“Why so down on Fran? She agreed to something she had no way of knowing would turn out in her favor. I would never begrudge Fran her share of the estate. Besides, I think she’ll come back now. I’m going to ask her. ” Claire stared back at him, and the smile disappeared from her face.
“I’m sorry. I’ve no right to interfere. Truly, I’m out of line.”
“You’re a good friend. I know you and Fran have a past. I don’t know exactly all the details but I thought you’d like to see her again.”
He inhaled and held his breath. Nothing could be farther from the truth, but how could he tell Claire her sister was a fraud, didn’t care about her, and that probably any success Claire would ever obtain, Fran would dismiss or belittle?
“You’re too good to be true. I wish I had a sister or someone in my family who was as good as you.” Fine. Great going. He didn’t mean he wanted her as a sister. Open mouth, insert boot.
Her brows drew together. “By the way, what on Earth are you doing out so far from the house. Did you breakdown or something?”
“Remember how I used to ride motocross?”
“Do you still ride? Yes. You do. I saw you carrying two wheels the other night. That makes sense. I didn’t know what they were for and forgot to ask. What happened? Are you all right?”
“Yes, just broke down, nothing exciting or dangerous.”
“You’d make a great character in a story.” Her voice had gone soft, and she paused. “Well, here we are.” She pulled into the gravel driveway of his house.
“Oh, you didn’t have to bring me back to the house. I wish you had a moment so we could talk.”
“I do…you mean now?” She stopped in the circular drive and put the car in park. She opened her door.
“Yes, let me get cleaned up. Do you want something to drink?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll wait on the porch and enjoy the swing. Just like old times.”
“I’ll be right back. The door’s open if you change your mind. The house has changed a bit.” He watched her sit on the swing and push off with her toes. Those sexy legs were bare and her feet in sandals. Beautifully breathtaking. Once inside the door, he peeled off his shirt on the way upstairs. He jumped into the shower for a quick sluice and dried off walking back into his room. He threw the damp towel on the edge of his king-size mattress. He thought about Claire in his bed. Just the thought brought his dick into full salute. Damn, his cock refused to settle and stood out erect—hard and aching.
He gripped his cock and nearly groaned aloud at the intense sensation. His hand raced up and down his shaft thinking about her breasts and the way her hips swayed. He thought about her legs, and how, if he sat next to her, her dress would rise above her thighs. She might want him now, all grown up. He could do things to make her scream. He wanted her to scream his name. His hand moved faster and faster over his cock, the pleasure mounting as he fantasized over her.
He imagined his hand moving up her thighs, spreading her legs until her pussy was visible to him. He’d wanted to thrust his dick inside her the moment he set eyes on her this morning. He closed his eyes, imagining touching her, rubbing his finger over her slit and making her writhe with pleasure. He wanted to see her eyes brighten, her skin turn pink, and taste her as she climaxed. He shuddered, releasing himself into his towel. Good God, if she was this good in his imagination, what would it be like for real? He took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure.
He slipped on a pair of shorts and polo shirt. He combed his fingers through his hair and headed back downstairs.
The swing creaked in a familiar rhythm, making his steps quicken. He opened the door, relishing the slight widening of Claire’s eyes as they moved up and down him. “You approve of less dirt and mud?” He smiled, teasing.
“Remarkable change, Mr. Murray.”
He rested against the railing