Thirty-Eight Days by Len Webster Page A

playing a waiting game, and it was driving her insane. She watched as he stepped around her, his body close to hers. His breath touched her neck, causing her to shiver. Liam placed both his hands on her shoulders, holding her in place.
    “Liam, what are you doing?" Clara whispered.
    His hot breath touching the curve of her neck was driving her crazy, causing her head to spin. Liam removed his hands from her shoulders, and he used his left hand to swipe her hair over her shoulder.
    Is he going to kiss—
    Her thoughts derailed once she felt him close to her ear, close enough to whisper. "Clara, you being so close is tempting, really tempting, but…"
    "B-but?" she stammered out.
    "You have some baking to do," he said softly, the seduction clear. 
    She felt something come over her head. She looked down to see that Liam placed her apron over her. Her heart dropped a little. She had anticipated a lot; the idea of him kissing her caused a fire to burn through her. He held her hair and untangled it from the confines of the apron. Liam tugged the ties of the apron, tying the strings just tight around her.
    "There," he said satisfied.
    He’s such a tease! Two can play at that game.
    Clara smiled to herself. Facing Liam, his eyes filled with desire as she batted her lashes at him. She grabbed a tea towel from the bench, putting it closer to her. The look in his eyes made her a little breathless, and made her joints feel like jelly.
    "Thank you, but now it’s my turn," Clara said as alluring as she could. Liam smirked at her.
    She took a few steps back till her body felt the coldness of the bench. She jumped up, lowering herself on the cool top. She looked up, giving him her puppy dog eyes. Clara raised her hand signalling him to put his in hers. As Liam did so, she tugged his hand to bring him forward. He smiled at her, he had no clue what she was up to and it gave her a sense of control.
    "Liam."
    "I really like you like this, Clara," he breathed out heavily.
    Oh.
    "Like what?" She played clueless.
    "You really want me to say it, don't you?"
    She nodded. Liam was putty in her hands.
    "I like…" He paused as he took her other hand. She wasn’t sure whether this was intimate or in the heat of the moment.
    “I like you sat on this bench. It's sexy as hell. But… I like that you’re more open to me," he replied.
    She bit the inside of her cheek so she didn't smile like a fool. Clara let go of Liam's hands, took the tea towel, and ran it through his wet hair, startling him. As she dried his hair, she could feel his eyes on her. She liked this moment, where she could be so tender to him. Clara continued to dry his hair until it started to spike upwards, causing her to laugh.
    "Laughing suits you, Clara," Liam said as he looked down at her. The way he looked at her made Clara feel like the only girl in the world, but she shook the thought away.
    He stopped her in her tracks by gently grabbing her wrists; this time their eyes met with want. It was the moment to steal a kiss, a perfect opportunity, causing her to smile inside. She lowered her arms and caressed his cheeks with her fingers, causing him to let go of her wrist. He moved his hands to her waist, holding her in place, his touch returning the fire. Clara let go of the tea towel once she saw the desire in his eyes intensify.
    I can't want Liam like this, can I? I'd be one of those girls.
    "What are you doing, Clara?" he asked, barely a whisper. His breathing was rigid. She liked the effect she had over him.
    "Oh, nothing," Clara replied back in the same whispered tone as his. She continued to caress his face; he let out a soft groan, and she knew she had him. She gripped the bench harder with her left hand while her right stayed on Liam's face.
    He moved in closer, his nose close to touching hers. Liam's hands tightened on her waist. He was close, his lips almost grazing hers. Suddenly, guilt took a stab at her chest, a pain so new that Clara herself didn't understand