The Paris Affair (8 page)
He shifted his stance, and Claire felt a little tinge of satisfaction at putting him in awkward spot. “Is yesterday’s invitation still open?” he asked.
The sound of a door opening down the hall startled Claire. A man emerged from one of the other boxes, talking loudly on his cell phone. Horror dawned at her own reaction. She had been on the verge of saying “yes.” “I don’t know if it’s such a good idea...”
A shadow passed over Helmut’s eyes, but was quickly replaced by his customary twinkle. “What happens on the weekend,” he said with a lazy smile, “doesn’t have to come to the office on Monday.”
Claire inhaled deeply. Another big mistake. The spicy scent of Helmut’s cologne filled her nostrils and spread through her veins like whiskey. “I’m busy tonight,” she said.
“Understood.” Helmut’s gaze raked down her figure, and Claire felt her nipples hardening in response.
“Have a nice night, Claire,” he said softly, his voice sliding over her heated body like velvet. He turned and walked slowly back to the suite door.
“I might be home tomorrow.” Her voice was a whisper. Surely too quiet for him to hear.
He paused at the door and glanced back. Claire spun on her heel, startled to have been caught watching him walk away. But she didn’t miss the slight nod of his head before she fled the hall.
Claire set her coffee cup onto the polished granite kitchen countertop with a hard clank. She had no idea who would buzz her apartment’s intercom at this ungodly hour of—well, damn, was it ten-thirty in the morning already?
She pressed the intercom button. “Who’s there?”
Her voice sounded dry and crackled from the second hand smoke of the martini bar where she and the girls had ended their evening last night. This morning. Whatever.
The intercom sounded just slightly more clear than a kindergartener with a tin can and a string, and she buzzed her mystery guest up. Three inches of solid oak in her loft’s front door could keep any violent intruder at bay long enough to call the cops.
Claire smoothed one hand through her long, thick hair and glanced around for her glasses. She couldn’t remember if she’d put them on when she got out of bed and the tortoise shell framed blended all too well with the variegated browns and tans of her counters. She had trained herself to make coffee while semi-conscious and semi-blind back in college.
She headed to the door when she heard the knock, wincing as her bare feet left the warm wood of the kitchen and touched the frigid concrete of the entry. Claire peered through the peephole and pulled back, blinking away the morning sleep fog.
Surely that wasn’t...
She peered again, squinting through the tiny glass circle.
It was.
Claire clutched the edges of her fluffy pink robe together over her pounding heart. She glanced down at herself. She was literally bedraggled, wearing pajamas and her hair slightly wild from sleep. She had barely removed her makeup and brushed her teeth before crawling between the sheets and crashing. Quickly, she smoothed down her hair and tucked the sides behind her ears. She could ignore him and hope he went away.
He knocked again.
From what she knew of Helmut, he wasn’t the type to back away from something he wanted. And clearly he wanted her. The thought sent a shiver of desire down her spine.
Hell, he’d already seen her in workout clothes. And out of workout clothes.
Claire yanked the massive door open, and jumped back as a bouquet of roses nearly smacked her in the nose.
“Sorry,” said Helmut. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
The roses were close enough for her to make out their details. They were wide open, and the stems were wrapped with...paper towels?
She glanced up at Helmut questioningly.
“They were fresh Friday night,” he said with a half-smile. “Kelsie’s had them in a bowl of ice water for the past two days. I think she felt bad about interrupting my night out and was hoping she could salvage the flowers.”
“Oh,” said Claire, as she accepted the bundle. “Um, thank you. I think. Maybe I should look for a vase?”
She turned and started to walk back to the kitchen, and realized that Helmut wasn’t following. When she looked back, he was still standing in the doorway. She couldn’t quite see his facial features, but he had one hand propped in the doorway, and was poised just outside the threshold. Something about his body language looked hesitant. It wasn’t an emotion she associated with the bold, laughing executive she’d worked with all week.
“Would you like to come in? I just made coffee.”
“Coffee would be great.”
Claire was sure the glow of his face was the blur of a wide grin.
His footsteps behind her were unhurried as she led the way back to her kitchen. She took care of the flowers and pulled a second mug off of the small wooden rack that set next to the small, 4-cup coffee maker. She gave another furtive glance around for the missing glasses, and sighed in defeat as she poured him a cup.
“I don’t have cream, but there might be some milk in the fridge. I don’t know about sugar.” Claire held out the mug.
Helmut crossed the kitchen with deliberate strides. He stepped close and his face swam into view, his eyes glowing. The scent of steaming coffee mixed with the spicy undertones of his cologne. Desire pooled in Claire’s abdomen. She was suddenly too aware of the ridiculous robe she wore, and of how unprepared she felt to have a man in her kitchen. Especially this man.
The brush of his fingers sent a thrill through Claire’s nervous system as Helmut gently took the cup out of her hands. He stood close. So close that the tips of his loafers whispered against her bare toes and the heat from his body warmed the exposed skin of her chest.
Claire drew in a breath, and let her gaze travel upwards from his long, tanned fingers, over the light cream-colored sweater that stretched across his toned shoulders. The fabric looked soft and luxe, and she had a silly urge to rub her cheek against it to see if it felt as cozy and inviting as it looked. His chest rose and fell in time with her own. Was he as nervous as she felt?
Without a sip, Helmut set the coffee mug down on the counter beside him.
Claire dragged her gaze back to his eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. Nervousness was the farthest thing from his eyes. Her core turned to molten lead.
She had never seen green fire until now. She gulped.
“I want you to know that I’m not looking for anything complicated right now,” she said with a whisper.
“No?” He stepped a hair closer. Her nipples stood erect, straining toward the heat of his body.
“I’ve done complicated. And an office romance. A complicated office romance. I don’t need another one of those.” She licked her lips nervously.
Helmut took another small step closer. “You want something simple?”
She nodded. And gulped as desire flooded her veins and made her heartbeat erratic.
“Simple is good.”
Then his lips caught hers and erased all traces of logic from her brain. He kissed her hard and hungry, and she parted her lips and returned the kiss. Claire ran her hands up that sexy sweater, pressing her fingers against the hard muscles underneath. He grasped her waist and pulled her against him, almost roughly, and Claire grasped two fistfuls of the knit fabric to keep from losing her balance.
He pivoted and pinned her with the hard length of his body against the countertop, the edge digging into the backs of her buttocks. Claire’s breasts were flattened against his chest, straining against the fluff of the robe, growing heavy.
Helmut’s tongue probed Claire’s mouth, demanding, and she responded in kind. With a muffled groan, he wedged one leg between hers. His fingers moved impatiently across her waist, finally finding the satiny ties that kept the robe closed. He wrenched his lips from Claire’s, trailing hot kisses across her cheek to her earlobe and the hot skin of her neck.
Claire whimpered as he nibbled gently at the spot where her neck met her collarbone. Vaguely, she realized that he still struggled with her robe ties, and she released the death grip she’d held on his sweater to help.
She shoved his fingers aside and quickly located one dangling end of the bow. Helmut’s hands cupped her hips, and rounded her bottom. One end of the robe hung open, and Claire quickly reached inside to release the second tie.
Helmut wasted no time slipping the robe from her shoulders, and allowing it to slide to the ground, revealing the thin flannel sleep pants and strappy camisole Claire had slept in. His fingers trailed immediately from her shoulders to her breasts, barely covered by the flimsy cotton fabric.
Claire arched her back as he squeezed her breasts, weighing them and teasing her nipples with his thumbs. He shuffled his feet, kicking the robe out of his way. He pressed one hard thigh between hers again, and Claire eagerly spread hers.
He was kissing her mouth again, licking and sucking her lips while the rock hard bulge of his erection ground against her pelvis. Claire gasped at the friction against her clit through the thin fabric of her pants.
She felt hot all over, and wet. Her panties were soaked with desire and the slow rocking motion of Helmut’s hips sent ripples of pleasure washing over her. Claire wanted more of him. Now.
She reached up and under his sweater, yanking up the T-shirt he wore underneath until she found the smooth bare skin of his belly. She traced her fingers around the edge of the waistband of his jeans, reveling in the dip and swells of his muscles. Teasingly, she slipped two fingers down beneath the denim, finding the elastic of his briefs, already bulging around the tip of his cock.
She heard Helmut gasp as her fingers briefly skimmed the head, and she smiled in triumph. Then she slid both palms upward, across his chest and found the tiny buds of his own nipples.
“Tease.” His voice was hoarse.
Her exploration of his body cut short as he pulled his hips back and slid a hand down into her panties. Claire moaned as his fingers found her clit and rubbed, then slid farther. He slid one finger, and then two, into her wet folds, his palm still rubbing against her swollen bud. Claire came apart with a shatter of tiny ripples that left her breathless for more.
She unbuttoned his jeans, and cupped the hard bulge of his erection through the heavy cotton of his underwear, reaching underneath to cup his balls.
Claire heard a muffled word spoken against her hair, and Helmut wrenched his hips backward away from her teasing fingers. He slid his hand out of her and pulled her pants off. He lifted her hips up and settled her butt onto the cold granite countertop. She spread her legs wide.
One hand supported her lower back while the other found a condom in his pocket. Claire tugged his jeans down over his hips, and then followed with his briefs while he ripped open the packet with his teeth. From her perch, she couldn’t lower them any further, and Helmut was in too much of a hurry to completely remove them.
She took the small latex circle from him, and slowly unrolled it down the hard length of his cock. It stood huge and throbbing among the thicket of dark brown curls of his pubic hair. He gritted his teeth as she rubbed his length.
He positioned himself at her entrance and paused. Claire whimpered, arching her back and rubbing up against his shaft.
He gazed into her eyes. His temples were flushed with exertion and his breath was ragged. Slowly, eyes locked on each other, he pushed himself into her tight opening.
Every centimeter of his languid descent felt like delicious agony to Claire. She could feel the tiny shudders again and grasped his bare, muscled butt, urging him faster, harder. But he continued at the same maddeningly slow pace until she writhed and moaned. And filled every bit of her.
“Please,” she whispered, wanting more. Wanting him to move, to slam into her. To claim her completely.
Helmut withdrew almost to the end and slid back into her, teasing. She wriggled her hips, squeezing his cock and rocking her pelvis against him as best she could. She had virtually no leverage to push against, and instead wrapped her legs up and around his waist, urging him deeper. Closer.
She saw the moment his control collapsed. He pumped into her, hard and fast. Claire clung to him, grinding her clit against him on every down thrust, arching her back to maximize friction on her g-spot with every upward pull.
If before she had climaxed with tiny ripples, this one was a full-blown tsunami. She cried out in pleasure as she felt the waves rush over her as he thrust again and again. The ripples continued to flow with each thrust until she felt the muscles in his back tighten and he pinned her hips as he came inside her.