Gauntlet: Chapter 7

Raised voices were something Clio hadn’t heard in a while.

Clio stopped in the hallway, her fancy shoes clicking against the hard floor. Everyone seemed to get along so well in the sanctuary that it was shocking to hear what sounded like a heated argument from somewhere. She couldn’t make out the muffled words.

If the voices hadn’t been coming from behind the door to Chance’s rooms, she might have been able to resist the urge to listen. If Sunshine were there, it wouldn’t have been possible–because she was pretty sure it was August in there, arguing with Chance.

But Sunshine had been gone for days, and August was being pretty closemouthed on the subject. Pushing aside her guilt, Clio quickly glanced up and down the hall before stepping up to the door and pushing her ear to the crack.

She only caught snatches, mostly when Chance’s voice rose in greater ire.

“…unnecessary…distracting you from…beneath you…”

Her breath caught. Was Chance talking about her? He hadn’t exactly made it a secret that he was disdainful of her, and, by extension, her relationship with August.

No, she was just being paranoid–surely he didn’t hate her so much that he’d fight with August about it. It wasn’t like she was interfering with what they had going. Except, Chance had been forced to watch over her, and August said he was working hard to find Britt… Maybe Chance really did resent that? He certainly sounded angry, even disgusted.

August’s tone, on the other hand, was conciliatory and indulgent, which wasn’t that surprising. He always said he considered Chance his best friend.

She wished August would get mad–then she could hear what he was saying. He calmly murmured something that made Chance even angrier. Chance snapped out August’s name with sharp disapproval; she heard his next words quite clearly.

“Just send her away. Let her sink or swim on her own.”

Clio went cold, her chest freezing over with what felt like a layer of ice.

Oh, God.

August’s feet shuffled closer to the door. “You know I won’t do that. I’m surprised you would even ask.”

“August–”

“I won’t send Clio away,” August said mildly, though Clio could hear a thread of displeasure underneath. “Don’t be stupid.” His voice lightened again, and he added almost teasingly, “I need her.”

Clio felt blood rush to her face.

Chance snorted. “Quit acting like a fool.”

“You’re so unromantic, Chance. It’s no wonder you’re single.”

“Fine. Do what you want.”

“I always do,” August responded cheerfully.

“Just don’t expect me to go to this farce of a party. I’ll go out on patrol.”

The sound of heavy footfalls made Clio panic, and she ran in the direction she was facing. Unfortunately, that was in the opposite direction of her room. She rounded the corner, took a few deep breaths, and then turned back around the corner, as if just passing that way for the first time.

August had his hand on Chance’s arm, but he stopped talking as Clio approached them. She briefly met Chance’s gaze, and then smiled at August.

“Hi.”

August grinned at that bit of conversational brilliance. “Hey, Clio. We were just talking about you.”

“Oh?” she asked a little breathlessly. “What about?”

Chance stared at her, stone-faced, but August ignored it. He released Chance’s arm and took her hand instead.

“The party tonight, of course, and what everyone’s gonna be wearing.”

Clio cleared her throat. “I don’t have any idea what to wear.”

“We’ll pick something together right now.” He tucked her hand under his arm and led her away, calling over his shoulder to Chance. “And don’t think you’re getting out of it, either.”

Clio waited until they rounded the corner. “Is everything okay?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “He seems mad.”

August shrugged. “Don’t worry about it–he’s fine. Didn’t get enough coffee this morning or something.”

Clio smiled weakly, and August gave her an odd look. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she hedged, trying to provide a plausible reason for her emotional state. “Just, you know, still worried about Britt. I feel like I’m not doing anything.”

“You trust me, don’t you?”

August looked rather hurt, which made her feel guilty for inadvertently criticizing his efforts. “I do!” she reassured him. “Really. It’s just that…I feel like I should be doing more. I know she wouldn’t sit around and let someone else do her work for her.”

“You’re really loyal, Clio, and that’s impressive.” He squeezed her hand. “But you have to worry about yourself, too. Just be patient a little longer.”

Clio nodded and wiped at the few tears that had sprung up from talking about Britt again. He leaned close to her ear.

“Sweet Clio,” he breathed. “It’s gonna be okay.”

The words cut through to her core. Clio suddenly choked out a sob, the flood of emotional relief drawing new tears from her eyes.

He pulled her into his room and kicked the door shut behind them. Then he pushed her onto the bed and held her, kissing her until she stopped thinking about the argument or Britt or anything else.

Gradually, the comfort became something else. Clio responded eagerly, for once not worried about how she looked or sounded.

She wanted him to touch her, to do everything, to not stop this time.

They made out on top of the bedspread, him pushing her skirt up her thighs as he leaned in between her legs, until she was dizzy from the lack of oxygen. His mouth moved to her throat, teased at her ear. She was breathing hard, confined by the bodice of the stupid dress. His hands were everywhere except where she really wanted them to be.

He didn’t want to push her, she knew that–even though he was as turned on as she was. The evidence pressed insistently against her. She knew it was up to her to let him know that it was okay, which was endearing and little bit frustrating at the same time. It was too excruciatingly embarrassing to just ask, but oh…

“Do…do you want to…?” she breathed.

He pulled back, and he didn’t look like much of a gentleman in that moment. His grin was filthy with the best kind of promise.

“Oh, Clio…” A delicious sort of shudder racked her at the lust he didn’t bother to disguise. “I was hoping to wait–trying to wait until tonight, at least. I wanted it to be special.” He inhaled sharply and pressed his face against her throat. “But I could eat you up right now.”

His groan lit a fuse that raced all the way down to burn between her legs. Her breasts ached, and her toes curled into the sheets. She wanted…oh, she wanted his hands on her…his mouth. She wanted everything.

But you’re in the Gauntlet, a small voice in her mind whispered. You’re in the middle of some twisted game. Is this really what you want? For your first time?

Yes, Clio insisted to herself. And I don’t care anymore. It might be my first time, but, as screwed up as this place is, it could be my last time, too.

She liked August so much, and he liked her. He wanted her, and he’d been holding back for her sake. The simple truth was she didn’t want him to hold back anymore.

“I don’t want to wait.” Clio expelled a shaky breath. “I want…I want you.”

She didn’t have a chance to blush before August showed her just how much he’d been holding back. He managed to undo the intricate laces at her back with amazing dexterity, hiking her skirt up even higher with a roll of his hips.

August’s hot, hungry mouth devoured hers, greedily sucking up her shallow breath. One of his knees pushed her legs higher, spreading her hips open.

His fingers dipped beneath the lacy edge of her underwear.

When a mortifying little moan slipped from her lips, August raised his eyes to grin wickedly. A hot blush traveled from her face and all the way down her chest. August watched it bloom, and then bent his head to follow it with his mouth.

“Your heart is beating so hard, Clio,” August murmured. “I can hear it from here.”

Of course it was. This was…this was overwhelming, unbearably exciting. It almost hurt, her heart, as it frantically beat in her chest. She couldn’t answer him. She was all too aware of her own inexperience.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s so very flattering.”

August chuckled, another dirty, little sound, and Clio marveled at how different he was from the gentlemanly persona he wore in public. She was fairly certain she liked it…a lot.

Then his thumb brushed very deliberately, and Clio’s hips bucked. She felt his hot gaze on her as she tried to stay still and quiet, but he seemed to catalog her every move and sound until she was twisting on the sheets and her voice was reduced to threaded, pained pants.

It was terribly embarrassing the way he watched her so intently, but so very arousing, too. And, God, why did it feel so much better when someone else was doing it?

She flung her arm across her eyes and turned her head on the pillow.

“Don’t hide,” August chided.

Oh, God.

She reached up, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth to hers.

“More.”

Proceed to Chapter 7, page 3–>