Claire woke up drowsy and utterly peaceful, and it took a slow second for her to realize that the heavenly warmth at her back was radiating from someone else, in the bed, with her.
From Shane.
She stopped breathing. Was he awake? No, she didnt think so; she could feel his slow, steady breaths. There was a delicious, forbidden delight to this, a moment that she knew shed carry with her even when it was gone. Claire closed her eyes and tried to remember everythinglike the way Shanes bare chest touched her back, warm and smooth where their skin connected. Shed negotiated for the removal of shirts, since shed been wearing a sleeveless camisole underneath, and Shane had wavered enough to let it go. Hed insisted on keeping the pants, though.
She hadnt mentioned that shed gotten rid of the bra, though she knew hed noticed that right off.
Dangerous, some part of her said. Youre going to take this too far. Youre not readyWhy not? Why wasnt she? Because she wasnt seventeen? What was so magic about a number, anyway? Who decided when she was ready except her?
Shane made a sound in his sleepa deep, contented sigh that vibrated through her whole body. Ill bet if I turn around and kiss him, I could convince him. . . .
Shanes hand was resting on the inward curve just above her hip, a warm loose weight, and that was how she knew when he woke uphis hand. It went from utterly limp to careful, tensing and relaxing but not moving from its spot.
She could feel each inpidual finger on her skin.
She stayed very still, keeping her breathing slow and steady. Shanes hand slowly, gently moved up her side, barely skimming, and then he moved away from her and sat up, facing away toward the window. Claire rolled toward him, holding the blanket at neck level.
Good morning, she said. Her voice sounded drowsy and slow, and she saw a slice of his face as he turned slightly toward her. Sunlight glimmered warm on his bare skin, like hed been dusted in gold.
Good morning, he said, and shook his head. Man. That was stupid.
Not at all what she was thinking. Shane got up, and she gulped at the way his blue jeans rode low on his hips, the way his bones and muscles curved together and begged to be touched
Bathroom, he blurted, and moved almost as fast as a vampire getting out of there. Claire sat up, waiting, but when he didnt come back, she slowly began to assemble her clothes again. Bra, clicked back into place. Camisole neat and demure, if wrinkled. Shed kept her jeans on. Her hair looked like shed combed it with a blendershe was still messing with it when she heard Eves trademark heavy shoes clopping down the hallway outside, passing Shanes door, going all the way to the end.
To Claires own room.
Oh, damn.