SIXTEEN
Claire's body was resting on Ryan's, both lying intimately on the couch. A huge flat screen was rambling on something none of the two paid attention at. Outside it was slightly raining, the water sliding smoothly on the glass of the great window.
It felt peaceful; Claire couldn't deny this feeling of such rarity in her heart.
"Why did you rip off my blouse? Now I don't have anything to wear," Claire lamented.
Ryan was smoothly toying with her hair, tangling and detangling the strands. "I was in a hurry to undress you, I guess," he answered flatly, grinning at her.
Claire sighed. "You're so crazy, Ryan.” The back of her hand grazed his cleanly shaved face that made him look younger than his thirty-two years of age.
"You've said that over a million times already." Ryan's hands slid down to her waist, playfully reaching for the hem of his shirt.
It was the only thing Claire was wearing right now.
"Ryan!" She giggled as he squeezed her butt with both hands, knowing fully well that she had no pantie inside. "What are you doing?"
"Exactly what you love me doing, among other things." Ryan's face was relaxed, and his smile was so pure and genuine. "I love holding you in my arms," he muttered, his voice gentle, and kissed her lips slowly.
Claire could feel the butterflies in her stomach at the sight of him, even without paying attention to the profane things he was doing to her.
"Psycho! Well, I need to use the bathroom, where is it?" she asked while detaching herself from him, her emotions shifted from craziness to this foreign apprehension of something newly developed.
No, she wasn't falling for him. She shouldn't. By any means! She thought.
"Follow that door, and turn to your right," Ryan instructed while sitting up. "Or would you rather use the one in my bedroom?" he teased.
Not a bad idea. Claire chuckled.
"I'm not sure if I'm in the mood to be picky when my bladder is on the verge of bursting," she said. "Fuck, I'll pee in myself." She buttoned Ryan's shirt in a hurry.
"My shirt looks better on you. And those long legs are so sexy that I want you to just stay like that." Ryan rose up, his grin ever-playful.
"Keep wishing, Ryan!" Claire made her way to the living room.
"Always challenging." Ryan laughed heartily.
A few minutes later Claire was back from the bathroom, and to her surprise, Ryan was in the kitchen. He smiled haughtily at her as shock registered on her face.
"What are you doing? Are you trying to cook?" Claire laughed at the thought.
Ryan smirked. "Trying? I am cooking," He plucked a packet of pasta from the cabinet, with fresh vegetables lying on the countertop.
"Wow, you can cook?" Claire gasped, utterly surprised. She marched closer.
"I can do many things, Claire." Smiling, Ryan strode towards the sink and started washing the veggies.
"Okay, that's a lot to take in. I suck in the kitchen, and I don't know how to cook anything." She was now right behind him, her eyes on his bare back embellished with rippling muscles.
What a sexy jerk! It was impossible for her to not fall into the sphere of Ryan's awesomeness. And he could cook, too? Why was fate teasing her this much?
"Really?" Ryan looked at her archly. "You don't know how to cook?"
"At all," she confessed matter-of-factly.
"Well, at least you don't need to worry about meals because I can cook for you." Ryan winked.
Claire flushed. "And why would I even worry about that? It's not like I'm going to live with you someday." She rolled her eyes.
"Why not?" Ryan began chopping the veggies after putting the skillet on the glass stove.
His kitchen was a marvel: super clean, also in silver-grey and white, all the cabinets in a shiny marble.
"Because it's impossible?" Claire shifted onto the barstool so she could face him directly. "It'll never happen." She plucked a ruby apple from the fruit basket.
"Never say never, beautiful," Ryan said.
"Beautiful? That's Bruno's. You're being unoriginal, Mr. Stevens." She was having fun, and watching him chopping the onions with ease was so spectacular.
He poured them into the skillet, and the olive oil made its wonderful sound as he stirred them expertly. "What can I do? My little brother will have to forgive me for stealing what's his," he muttered, resuming the chopping of other ingredients.
Claire scowled. "What does that mean? Ryan, do you actually believe that you've stolen me from Bruno?"
"Maybe?" Ryan shrugged.
"That's ridiculous." She bit the apple, laughing.
"It's not. He's a man, too," Ryan remarked.
No, Bruno was not into her. The sweet guy was naturally nice to everyone. That's what Claire believed.
"He is, but not as psycho as someone I know," she replied. "And not every relationship has to involve romance; some are just pure friendship."
"Sure . . . If you say so." Ryan proceeded with the cooking.
"Of course, how can someone like you understand this?" Claire muttered under her breath.
Lunch was finally ready. It looked and smelled amazing, making Claire smile excitedly when Ryan placed a plate of pasta and red sauce. She wasted no time taking a fork and rolled a big one. She took the bite with pleasure.
"So, how is it?" Ryan asked, his face bright like a little boy waiting for his Mama's compliment.
"Um . . ." Claire hummed while chewing the pasta. Ryan creased an eyebrow, waiting. She swallowed, and broke into a big smile.
"Come on, tell me," Ryan urged, leaning over onto the table.
Claire grinned at him. "It's perfect! Man, you surely know your way in the kitchen. It's so yummy. . . just as it looks," she uttered, taking another roll.
"Of course, I'm the best." Ryan clasped his hands together with relief. "Some guava juice?"
"Yes, please. I love guava juice." She sounded childish. Smiling, Ryan poured her some from the box. "Modesty is never in your dictionary, is it?" she remarked.
"It's not," Ryan answered, and both shared a brief laugh. "Oh, by the way," he said while taking a seat, "you were awesome today during the presentation."
"Was I?" Claire blushed.
"Absolutely. It's like you took all the words from my mouth," Ryan said in awe. He started eating. "I mean, we had exactly the same idea, and I was so right to get you into the project."
Claire flushed. "I know, right? It's incredible how we had exactly the same thought about the designs and—" She paused. "Wait! So it was you?"
At last she grasped this little detail. Her involvement in the project was Ryan’s doing.
"Me? What?" Ryan scowled.
She glared at him. "Oh I knew that it had to be you who pulled the strings!"
"Oh, that?" Ryan only shrugged, sipping his juice. "Well, you kept whining that you wanted to do some real job, so I did what I could. And believe me, it was the best decision," he said, playful.
"I wasn't whining! I was only venting!" Claire argued stoutly.
"Isn't it the same thing?"
"No, it's not!" she denied, and he laughed delightedly. "But well, not that I'm complaining that you did, I just hope you won't intervene with my work again."
"Oh really, now?" Ryan was hardly bothered.
"Yes, Ryan," Claire insisted. "I don't want anyone to think I'm getting special treatments or something, which is exactly what I got this time."
"Why would you care what other people think?" Ryan was unimpressed.
"I do care, because I want to be accredited fair and square, and not because I'm sleeping with my boss."
He rolled his eyes. "Sure. But I only did it because I wanted to give you an opportunity. And so far, you've proved to be worthy of it. I'm just waiting for our next meeting to finally see what you can do," he said.
Claire's eyes widened. To see what she could do? Did that mean she was taking part in the designing? She was tempted to ask but decided not to.
"I think I've got some explaining to do with Nathan," Claire muttered. "All thanks to your amazing indiscretion, Sir!" She changed the course of their conversation, and Ryan didn't seem to appreciate the turn.
"Don't call me Sir," he repeated his plea. "And why do you have to explain anything to Panther?" He frowned at the idea.
"Because he's my superior, and thanks to you he can now complete the puzzle on what's going on," Claire uttered and again their bickering started.
And neither of the two was ready to back out.
"I don't owe an explanation to anyone, Claire!" Ryan snapped blatantly. "And, what is this with Panther? Are you close to him now?"
"Yeah, I'm close to him.” Claire snorted. "We are colleagues, we work together, and he's my boss." She slid the plate aside, annoyed.
Ryan frowned. "Finish your food," he demanded.
"Excuse me?" Claire prompted quickly.
"I said finish your food," he repeated, sternly. "I want to see that plate clean, Claire, and I'm not bluffing."
"Fuck! Why do you always treat me like a child, huh?" she snarled at him
"Because you're behaving like one, aren't you?" Ryan retorted, his eyes raw.
"I'm full! I've had my fill! Isn't that a reason enough?"
"Oh no, it's not! You're going to finish the food, and you're going to stop whining."
"Don't say I'm whining! I hate it!" Claire stood up stoutly.
"Then stop doing it! And sit down!"
"Are you my daddy or something?" She glowered.
"Oh, I can be one, Claire, trust me." Ryan smirked.
"Fuck you!"
"Fuck you, too, baby. Now sit down and finish your food. Some people are dying to have just a spoonful," he said and sounded earnest.
Tired of his tyranny, Claire decided to gobble the pasta as quickly as possible while looking sternly at him. He paid no attention to the angry look of her face; instead he stared intently at her as she kept eating like a marathon.
"I cleaned the plate, are you happy now, Hitler?" she snapped.
"Very happy." Ryan smiled, and before he could hear or add anything more, his cell phone buzzed.
"Maybe it's your precious girlfriend wondering where you are right now," Claire said, displeasure lacing her voice.
"You think?" Ryan mocked.
"Jerk!" she cursed.
"Yes, Harry, what is it?" Ryan spoke after picking up. "Are you sure about that?" He frowned, and Claire's face took a similar expression. "Alright, I'll be there soon." He rose up to his feet.
"What is it?" Claire asked urgently.
"I'm going back to the office," Ryan replied while gulping half of his juice.
"You're going? What about me?" She stood up.
"I won't take long," Ryan said hastily. "Stay here and I'll take you home later."
"Are you kidding me? Why do I have to stay here by myself? No, I'll just go home." Claire started clearing the table in a hurry.
"How? In my shirt?" Ryan smiled, and it's when she grasped his point.
Fucker! She took a deep breath.
"You ripped off my blouse on purpose, didn't you?" she asked, and he shrugged. "Why, Ryan? Are you psycho?"
He chuckled. "I'll be back."
"What about Doris? What if she shows up here?" Claire asked.
"She won't," he replied.
"How do you know that?"
"I know her well enough to know."
"Oh God," she gasped, resigned in manners. "Fine, Ryan. I'll stay here like a prisoner until you decide to release me."
"Good. That's what I thought." Ryan kissed her on the lips, which she refused to cooperate. "Be good." He rushed upstairs to change. It didn't take long until he left the apartment some minutes later.
Once alone, Claire used the void to fill up the dishwasher and stayed beside it, sighing. At this moment she hadn't any idea on what she was doing with her life. She'd always been careful.
Not in her wildest dream had she ever thought of coveting someone else's man. And here she was, dressed up in Ryan's shirt as though he was her own husband, or boyfriend at the very least.
Claire hated the fact, but it wasn't enough to stop herself from falling into his scheme. She scratched her head thoughtfully, until she got an idea and went for her phone in the living room.
"Hi, Gena. Are you at home?" she uttered.
"Yes, I've just arrived," Gena replied. "Why? Is there any problem? You sound kind of edgy."
Edgy was an understatement, Claire thought.
"No problem. I was wondering if you could bring me some clothes. A casual dress, maybe?"
"Clothes? Why?" Gena asked, and she bit her lip. "Alright where should I bring you?"
That was another detail Claire had overlooked. Even if Gena had managed to bring her the clothes, there was no way she could get them since Ryan's apartment was encrypted. She was just going to return into square one, and it drove her insane.
"You know what . . . never mind. Thanks anyway," she muttered.
"Um, okay," said Gena. "But where are you? It doesn't sound like you're at work."
"Oh, sweetie, I'm sure you don't want to know where I am right now."
"Try me," Gena said in her most excited tone of voice. "Are you with Ryan?" She kept digging, and Claire responded with a no. "Okay then, where are you?"
"At Ryan's penthouse?" She bit her bottom lip again.
"What?" Gena exclaimed aloud. "What are you doing there? Why are you saying you're not with him?" she asked, and Claire answered accordingly. "You little sly queen! What did you do to my Claire? Where is she?"
"I don't know, Gena." She sat down on the couch, sighing.
"Hey, stop eating yourself alive. You didn't kidnap the guy; he kidnapped you. Aw, how exciting! I'd love to be kidnapped with a hottie like him. I bet I'll cry very softly that I'm so scareeeeed!" Gena's voice was humorous.
"You're crazy." Claire managed to laugh. Gena gave her the pep talk and by the time they finished talking, her phone was boiling.
"Before I forget, your brother called me today," said Gena.
"Jorge?"
"Yes, I'm having a meeting with him tomorrow and I suppose you did talk to him, right?"
"Right, I forgot to let you know," she answered. "I talked to him this morning." They chatted over that until they hung up.
Slowly she made her way upstairs. It took a sharp luck for her to find Ryan's bedroom as the only place she was eager to see. As expected it wasn't disappointing. A smile stretched across her face as she slowly shut the door behind her.
Its theme was dark: black and a bit of grey, and it added warmth. Claire was in awe at the long curtails flailing, the rain slowly dissipating through the gigantic glass window. All the Lisbay prominent skyscrapers were visible.
"What are you getting yourself at, Claire?" she breathed, taking her feet towards the black-leathered sofa bed.
The wooden floor felt smooth against her bare feet, and even more the fluffy rug she'd stepped on as she reached the bed. She sat down, running a hand on the white duvet, inhaling Ryan's scent everywhere, and she loved it.
It was relaxing. So very relaxing compared to her own place. But was it okay feeling at home inside a man's house? The man she had nothing definitive with? She lied down, taking one of the pillows and hugged it tight.