Why Shouldn't I Love You?
Topher was asleep. It was one of those rare occasions when he was able to pull himself away from his work long enough to get a few hours of shut-eye. Granted, he only had a small cot in the server room, but it was peaceful and he didn't seem to mind.
He had stripped down to just a green t-shirt and his boxers and was now lying under a thin blanket, murmuring softly about Fozzie Bear and juice boxes.
Claire stood in the doorway, watching him with a look of disgust and desire on her face. She wanted him. Bad. But his scent was almost unbearable. When she had to stand near him, she always tried to hold her breath for as long as possible. This was probably something he had done on purpose; making her unable to stand the way he smelled so she wouldn't ever try anything. But he had failed.
The lust she was feeling overshadowed everything else, including the way he smelled. She was going to have her way with Topher Brink whether he liked it or not. And she knew he would. The way he stared at her when he thought she didn't know. The way his hand would brush against hers when they passed each other in the House. She knew he wanted her, even if he couldn't admit it to himself.
Quietly, so as not to wake him, Claire moved closer to his cot. She walked around, staring down at his back. She had never really noticed how muscular he was, but that was probably because he was always covered in layers. Sweater vests seemed to be his thing. She'd never understood it. Seeing him like this, though, the layers peeled back, was like seeing a whole new person. He seemed so vulnerable and innocent, two things she knew he wasn't.
Kneeling down, she reached out a hand to touch him, but hesitated before she made contact. What was she doing? This was crazy! Knowing Topher, he'd freak out and push her away, making her feel stupid and ashamed. Did she really want to go through with being rejected by the one and only person she ever had feelings for?
Of course she did. Letting her desire wash over her, she crawled into the cot next to Topher and slowly slid her arm around his waist. Deciding to go for it before she lost her nerve, she let her hand drift under the blanket. She felt him twitch as she lightly ran her fingers over the front of his boxers. A soft moan escaped his lips as he rolled over and it took all of her willpower not to rip the little bit of clothing they were wearing and have her way with him.
Slipping her hand out from under the blanket, she smirked and wrapped her arm around his chest, just as he opened his eyes.
"What the...?" Topher yelped, sitting up and pushing Claire away. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and stared at her suspiciously. "What the hell are you doing in my bed?"
Claire chuckled low in her throat and crawled over to Topher, who still hadn't moved from the bed. Maybe he was in shock. She had honestly expected him to jump up and freak out. But he hadn't done that, so maybe there was still hope.
"Claire?" he said her name with a hint of uncertainty in it, which caused her lips to curl into a mischievous grin. "I think you need a treatment."
"Oh, no," she replied huskily, pushing him back down onto the bed, straddling his hips. His eyes widened and he swallowed hard, desire evident in both his eyes and elsewhere. "I think it's time for your treatment."
Breath hitching, Topher struggled to find the words to tell her this was wrong. It was wrong, wasn't it? He had made sure she would never try anything like this with him, yet here she was, straddling him, her breath hot against his neck as she kissed and sucked the tender skin there.
"Oh, God," he mumbled, eyes closing as her lips moved up to his chin and her hand moved down his chest. He shuddered under her touch, bucking his hips up against hers as her lips finally crashed into his. He heard her moan, the sound turning him on even more, even as his brain screamed for them to stop.
Claire's hand drifted up under his shirt, feeling hard muscle and soft hair. She hadn't expected that. Of course, she didn't pay much attention to his chest area. She was usually trying to avoid him and his awful scent.
Topher whimpered as her hand trailed back down, grasping the hem of his t-shirt and lifting it up over his head. He had to raise himself up a little so she could do it, but once the pesky piece of clothing was gone, she grinned and ran both hands up his stomach, over his chest, and back down his arms. He was a lot more muscular than she'd expected him to be. Perfect.
"Please..." he whispered, unsure of what he was begging for. He wanted Claire to stop, but at the same time, he wanted her to keep going. His body felt paralyzed from the fear of what was about to happen and the insane amount of sexual tension in the air. Even if he'd wanted to stop her, he knew he wouldn't be able to. And if he were being honest, he wanted this as much as she did.
"Why are you doing this?" Topher asked when her lips trailed down to his neck. She nipped the skin there, causing him to lift his hands as if to push her away. Instead, he moved them to her waist, holding her against him.
"Why shouldn't I?" Claire responded, kissing her way down his chest. "I love you."
"You don't love me," Topher muttered half-heartedly, eyes squeezed shut as her tongue licked the skin above his boxers. A moment later, he gasped and his eyes flew open.
Claire had shifted and was no longer straddling him. She knelt next to him, slowly pulling his boxers down, eyes glinting with lust. He lifted his hips to make it easier for her, although he was extremely nervous. What if someone came looking for him and found him naked in bed with Claire? That probably wouldn't go over very well.
"Very nice," Claire said, that mischievous smile back on her lips. She stretched out next to him, one hand on his chest, the other moving to lightly graze his erection. She felt him shudder under her touch. God, he was so easy.
Her lips found his again as she stroked him, kissing him with a fierce hunger that he matched. She parted her lips, granting him access. Their tongues entwined, causing a spark of pleasure to shoot through her body.
"Claire..." he whined, wishing she would stop her torturous teasing. Her hand was moving so slowly up and down his length. If she didn't get on with it soon, he was going to explode. "Please..."
Topher stared at her, pleading with his eyes. He had no power and he knew it. She was the one in control, and he knew if he tried to take it from her, this wouldn't end well.
Claire let out a throaty laugh, pulling away from him. He groaned softly at the lack of contact, hoping she would hurry up and touch him again.
He watched as she stood and removed what little bit of clothing she was wearing, letting the pieces fall lazily to the floor. He swallowed hard, drinking her in with his eyes. She was beautiful, even with the scars on her face.
Lying there, staring up at her, he couldn't imagine why he'd ever made her hate his scent. This was what he wanted, after all. And it had been the exact thing he'd been trying to prevent. Too late to turn back now, he thought.
Claire crawled back onto the bed, straddling his hips once more. She eased herself down onto his erection, both of them moaning at the exquisite sensation. She began rocking against him painfully slow, but he let her set the pace, not wanting to ruin this moment.
He reached up and touched her breasts lightly, almost as if he were afraid she would slap him for doing so. But hearing the noise that emerged from her lips spurred him on, giving him the courage to squeeze and pinch. Claire tossed her head back, gasping with pleasure, as Topher sat up and took one of her nipples into his mouth.
"Fuck," she muttered, her hands fisting in his hair as her movements sped up just a little. Topher moaned against her skin, his teeth and tongue working wonders. Why hadn't they done this sooner? Oh, right, his smell.
Unable to stand it any longer, Topher gripped her hips and flipped them over so she was lying under him now. Claire gasped, a little surprised that he had taken control. His lips found her neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive flesh there. She squirmed beneath him, eyes rolling back as he thrust into her hard and fast.
The noises coming from his mouth were unlike any she had ever heard before. They were animal-like in a way, a sort of grunting growl, that turned her on even more than she'd ever thought possible. She matched his pace, lifting her hips to meet his again and again.
Claire knew he was close when she felt his body start to tense. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, feeling herself let go, his name tumbling from her lips in a moan of ecstasy.
A moment later, he comes, his breathing ragged, her name only a whisper as he rests his head against her chest.
She strokes his hair, wondering if things will ever be the same again.
When his breathing returns to normal, he gazes into her eyes and asks, "Why do you love me?"
"Why shouldn't I love you?" is how she responds.