Whisper Privileges (28 page)

“Thanks for another spectacular evening,”
Clay said quietly, the heat of cobalt blazing beneath the lamplight
of her front porch.

“Spectacular? Wow,” she tried to joke, “now
that’s saying something.”

“I mean it.” He reached for her hand and her
body tensed at the touch. “I enjoyed hearing you talk about
volleyball. Your face lights up and you really come alive.”

“I do?”

“You absolutely do. And it’s a beautiful
sight to behold.”

Clay was laying it on thick again, something
he tended to do—something, she decided, she tended to like. Shallow
or not, she enjoyed being in the spotlight of his attention.

“It kinda reminds me of Q and the way
swimming brings out the best in him.”

Q. Sydney exhaled. That’s what she remembered
most from their conversation. Family. Duty. Obligations that didn’t
include her. “He’s really a great kid.”

Clay took a step toward her. “He is.”

“And you’re a great father.” Was it wrong to
spend time with him, even if it didn’t go anywhere? In a selfish
rush of decision, she glanced toward her door. “Would you like to
come in for a minute?”

Chapter Twenty

Clay grinned, and gave a light squeeze to her
hand. “Thought you’d never ask.”

A flurry of nerves trampled her pulse as she
pushed open the door and flipped on the light switch. The sight of
flowers bursting from the vase gave her pause. Extravagant,
thoughtful, Clay’s sincerity graced every petal. She turned.
Definitely put him the nice guy category. “Can I get you something
to drink?”

“A glass of water would be great.”

“Coming right up,” she said. Clay followed
her further into the room as she strode into the kitchen.
Clay
was in her home
. She retrieved two glasses, filled them from
the sink and via the pass-through, gazed at him. Hands tucked in
the front pockets of his jeans, he wasn’t looking at picture
frames, wasn’t perusing her décor, he was patiently awaiting her
return. She swallowed.
Her return
. Where the two of them
would be alone in her home. Water spilled over onto her hand and
she cut the faucet.
Damn it
. “Out in a minute,” she called
to him and hastily dried her hand, the sides of the glass. With a
quick dodge to the freezer, she plunked several ice cubes into each
and walked into the living room. Clearing her throat, she said,
“Here you go.” She handed him a glass, keeping one for herself.

“Thanks,” he said with an obligatory sip, as
though to prove he really did want the water.

“Would you like to sit?” she asked, fighting
the rising tide of awkwardness gurgling inside her.

“Sure.”

In a restaurant, the rules for decorum were
clear. In her home, she dictated what happened next.
But what if
she didn’t know what she wanted to happen next
?

Sydney lowered onto a seat cushion where Clay
joined her.

“You’re easy to be around” he said, and
sipped from his water again.

“You are too,” she agreed, and clutched the
water glass to her lap. Surely he wasn’t going to settle for small
talk—they’d been talking all night!

Setting the water down on the side table, he
turned his body toward hers. Like a soldier on high alert, Sydney
prepared for advancing troops. He shifted his legs so they were
closer. Not touching, but closer. He ran a hand to rest along the
back of the couch and she stiffened. “I can’t believe closing
ceremonies are in three days.”

Her mind zipped through dates and sure
enough, he was right. Three days. She peered at him, the glass
growing cold within her grasp. “Time flies, doesn’t it?”

“I have to confess, I’m not looking forward
to leaving.”

The reminder pulled at her spirit. She wasn’t
either. She wished he lived closer. Maybe that way, the two could
get to know one another the old-fashioned way—over time. Sydney
took a quick sip from her water, then leaned over and placed the
glass on a coaster atop the sofa table. Pressing palms to her
skirt, she warmed them against the thin denim fabric.

“Maybe Q and I will extend our vacation.” He
slipped into a smile. “Enjoy the Sunshine State a little
longer.”

She brightened at the mention. “But doesn’t
he have to fly back with his team?”

He shrugged. “Not if I decide otherwise. We
can stay as long as we like.”

We. With Q and Clay here and no team, the two
of them would have no time alone to themselves. Her spirits
plunged. Not that she didn’t like the boy, but dating didn’t happen
as a trio. It was duo or “don’t do.”

“Then again, my parents could always watch
him back home while I hang here a few extra days...”

Reticent to believe it was possible, she
countered, “How will they get him back—drive?”

“Or he can fly. My brother can meet him at
the airport. He and his wife help out with Q when need be. They can
handle him until my folks arrive back into town.”

Sydney felt a twinge of guilt. “That sounds
like a lot to ask.” Something didn’t seem right about making plans
based on getting Q out of the way. Clay was his father. He had
obligations. He shouldn’t be hanging out in Miami to be with her
when his son needed him back home.

Then it struck her. Clay had an entire life
that didn’t include her and a busy one at that. Who did she think
she was entertaining thoughts of the two of them together?

“Besides, I haven’t had near enough time with
you.”

She lapsed into the sentiment. While she felt
the same way, she was torn.

“You look great tonight.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, the comment
hooking her attention back to them, the privacy of her home.
Sitting in close proximity, the skirt high on her thighs, she felt
exposed. Sydney slid her hands to the skin of her quads, lifted,
pushed her shoulders back. Clay’s hand moved from the back cushion
and touched her bare shoulder. Only a tap, but she felt the zing
straight through her midsection. He brushed the hair away from her
neck in what felt like a tickle of silk.

“To be honest, I’m having trouble forgetting
that kiss today.”

She lowered her eyes. Leave it to Clay to
head straight to the point.

He reached over and tipped her chin up. “How
about you?”

“It was nice...” she mumbled, pulse drumming
with anticipation at the intimate touch to her bare skin. The kiss
had been
spectacular
for her. With the curve of his knuckle,
Clay skimmed her cheek in a move that prickled her breasts. “And
while we’re being honest, I have to admit you have one of the
nicest rears I’ve ever seen.”

She bristled. “My rear?” That was the
least
of her better attributes.

“It's phenomenal, if you ask me.”

“Hardly,” she scoffed.

Clay emitted a hollow chuckle. “How can you
say that?”

“Just trying to be realistic.” She looked
away. “I know what I look like in a bathing suit.” It suddenly
grated on her that like Charlie, he'd seen her butt hanging halfway
out of her suit and made her feel as if he were visualizing her
half-naked in her uniform rather than fully dressed as she sat
before him. She gritted her teeth. Damn Charlie for bringing him to
the tournament in the first place. She was beginning to like Clay
and wished they’d started off on a more positive note—and
not
with her cellulite-clad butt cheeks on display.

He moved a forefinger to her jaw and turned
her face back to him. “Don’t you think I’m a better judge of these
things?”

About to disagree, she retreated. This was
not a conversation she wanted to be having. She looked at him
directly. “I’m only trying to be honest about my appearance,
Clay.”

“In your opinion.”

Obviously, she thought, but remained
mute.

“I thought you looked great, especially your
rear.” He waggled his brow with a grin. “Very nice.”

Quelling a grimace, she glanced at the front
door. Maybe this had been a mistake. Suddenly, things weren’t so
easy and carefree—the way they should be.

“You have a beautiful body, Sydney.” As
though sensing her withdrawal, Clay leaned close and whispered, “An
incredibly sexy, strong, beautiful body.”

She could feel his penetrating gaze as it
gathered her close. “Is it wrong to want to be with you?” From the
corner of her eye, she caught his gaze drop briefly to her lips.
“Is it wrong to want a woman to the point of distraction?”

She hoped not. It was the same way she felt
about him.

“But better than your body—and I can’t
believe I’m saying this,” he laughed softly, “I like hanging out
with you.”

She turned to face him fully.
He
did
?

“You’re funny. Fun.” He brushed his fingers
through long strands of hair that had fallen forward. “I want to go
to the beach with you, watch your volleyball events. I want to take
you sailing, teach you how to play golf.” He winked, in that easy
natural way of his and said, “I even enjoyed my bike ride
today.”

“You did not.”

Clay’s brows shot up in surprise. “I did,
too.”

She narrowed her gaze and crossed her arms.
“Really?”

“Really.” He gently tugged her arms from
their knot and laced the fingers on his free hand with hers. Warm
and cozy, it was a sweet connection. The other hand was currently
sliding beneath her hair where he caressed the nape of her neck,
the soft sensitive skin. Nerves bubbled deep in her belly. He
leaned closer and gently thumbed her palm. “I’ve never wanted any
woman as much as I want you right now.”

Her breathing stopped. Sound the horns—
he
was coming in for the attack
.

“Do you feel the same? Or is this attraction
one-sided...”

Sydney nodded, mute. Throat dry, she wished
she’d had taken more of that water, but didn’t dare make a move to
get it now. Locked within his presence, his woodsy, citrus cologne
enveloped her, seeped into her pores. Totally unique to him, the
scent was imprinting itself on her senses, lulling her under his
power. Clay’s hand stilled. He eased forward and her lips parted.
When he smiled, she realized she had played right into his hands.
But rather than arrogance, she detected pleasure. With a nudge to
the back of her neck, he pulled her head toward him and joined
their lips in the softest of terms.

The move stole her breath away. She couldn’t
think, couldn’t move, could only feel the moist heat building below
as he kissed her. She relaxed into him as his tongue made silky
swathes around hers. Releasing her hand, Clay cupped her jaw, sank
deeper into the kiss and she responded, surrendering to his
sweeping demand. Ravenous, hungry he delved deeper, harder. Coupled
with the firm hold of her face, the thrust of his mouth felt like
he couldn’t get enough of her.

And it felt good. To be wanted like this, man
and woman both giving in to instinctual need. Clay drove harder and
she gave in to him. His was a raw sensuality she had not
experienced, a near animalistic greed. It was primal,
sexual—
welcome
.

Clay stopped. The withdrawal so sudden, her
lips felt swollen, exposed. Doubt hammered in her chest. She
searched his face for explanation.

Lust peeled the cheer from his deep blue
gaze. There were no signs of his earlier tease. Beneath the line of
his brow, shrouded within the heavy line of his lashes, hungry eyes
darted hotly across hers. Understanding filtered into her mind.

He was seeking permission.

Tracing the outline of her face, his finger
roamed down her neck, along the bare skin of her shoulder, fell
back along the line of her triceps, his moves deliberate,
meticulous.
Did she want to continue
? He trailed back over
the underside of her arm, down to her wrist, ultimately settling in
the palm of her hand. The graze of his fingertip sent tingles
straight to her breasts. She looked at her hand.
Was this
something she wanted
?

Excitement swelled. Yes. Absolutely. There
was no place she’d rather be, no other man she’d rather have close
to her. Clay lowered his lids and once again, interlaced his
fingers through hers. Without a word, he lifted her hand to his
face. With one eye fixed on her, he kissed the back of her hand,
the side, skimmed soft lips to her wrist, back to her palm, warm
wisps of breath fanning flames across her skin as he traveled. He
dipped his tongue into her palm and swirled it around, tightening
her nipples into pebbly rocks. Then, in a move so unexpected, he
flattened his tongue in a swipe across her hand—it was all she
could do to sit still. Clay checked with her but she could only
stare, captive within his embrace.

Lifting her arm, he held it outward and swept
his mouth across her forearm, his breath hot and moist against her
skin. Nerves popped and sizzled. She didn’t know how to respond.
Should she sit? Should she watch? Should she try and kiss him back?
Venturing further, the blond of his head crossed over the bend of
her elbow and came perilously close to her breast. Sydney knew in
an instant that should he detour over the silky fabric of her top,
it would prove no obstacle to the soaking wet of his mouth. She
moaned inwardly...
and how wonderful it would feel
. But
instead, he lingered over her bicep, taunting her with
patience.

He raised up to inches away and murmured, “Do
you like it?”

“I love it,” she said, mildly embarrassed by
her quick reply.

“Me, too,” he said. Wrapping her arm around
his neck, he scooted closer, slid an arm around her waist and
positioned himself so that his body was fully against hers. There
was no space between them now. Pinned within the steel line of his
thighs, the solid angle of his chest and shoulders, she yearned for
him to kiss her again. Instead, he nuzzled his nose against her
cheek. It was a move she found sweet and affectionate, yet strong
and sexy. Easing his face into the crux of her neck and shoulder,
he burrowed in, pulled her far knee over his thigh and slid his
hand down and over the round of her calf. “Very smooth,” he said
into her neck.