Clara's Pov
The kitchen was smelling of burnt coffee and thick, sweet air. I was sitting on the marble counter with my legs around the waist of Johnson. The mood had changed. What had been mild at an earlier time was fierce now.
My body buzzed. I read the same expression in the eyes of Johnson: dark and focused… and full of passion that stirred my stomach.
"Are you still with me yet?" I whispered. My voice was low and thick.
"Not even close," Johnson said.
He put me up on the counter and held my thighs. I grabbed him on the shoulders to keep myself straight. He turned me around the cabinets. His warmness was against my back. He bent over and bit my neck, and I moaned. It bounced off the tiles, and I did not mind that. No one in the neighborhood would hear it.
"Lean forward," he said.
