Sinners and Saints

Sinners and Saints Chapter 3.5 - For Crying Out Loud (You Know I Love You)

“God, Claire,” he growls and kisses me.  I attack his tongue, forcing him to release and thrust and I feel his concentration slipping.  “Too fast.  I want to make it last.” 

 “Damn it, Claire,” his concentration is completely gone now and I’m pretty proud of myself, “You need to slow down.  I’m going to lose control soon.  You’re not even giving me a chance here.” 

“I don’t want to slow down,” I tell him, “And I want you out of control.  You said you wanted to do me for years, so do me.” 

“Damn it,” I hear in his head, “I never said I wanted to do you.  I want to make love to you.” 

Shit. 

That startles me so much that I stop completely and hold his face between my hands so I can look into his eyes. 

“You heard that, huh?” he asks, a sheepish grin on his face.  I nod, eyes big. 

He lowers me down gently and pulls out before kissing me.  So soft.  So tender.  “I love you, Claire,” he doesn’t shout it, but he says it loud enough for our audience to hear, “I am so in love with you.” 

Shit.  Shit. Double shit. 

My heart is still thumping in my chest, but now for a completely different reason.  I never, ever expected this from Drake – my pain-in-the-ass flirty-teasing friend.  Hot as hell, completely sexy bad-boy friend.  I hear the bi’s hiss and Lil tsk – probably already plotting how to use this against us. 

“I,” I gulp, “I hear that a lot.”  Both bi’s and redeemers do.  Fulfill a human’s fantasy, give her or him sex beyond their wildest dreams – it’s more-rare to not hear it than hear it.  Jamie never said it out loud.  I heard it in his head.  I saw it in his eyes.  I felt it in his touch.  And even though I felt it too, I never said it either. 

“So do I,” Drake kisses my forehead and wipes the hair out of my eyes, “But when was the last time you said it?” 

“Never,” I choke out.  It’s practically taboo among our kind to do so.  Very, very bad form.  And leads to all kinds of complications – stalkers, broken hearts, expectations that we’re not able to live up to.  A lesson that both Dad and Father Jonas drilled in our heads over and over again – “love is a liability.” 

“I haven’t said it in over four thousand years,” Drake strokes my face, eyes soft, “Not since before I took the deal.  So I’m not saying this lightly.  I’m in love with you, Claire Saint,” he kisses my lips gently, but I’m too stunned to respond, “And now, ladies,” he turns to our audience, “I believe that Claire is the clear winner of your contest.  I doubt that either of you have a story to beat this?” 

They both shake their heads, still shocked that one of their own would say something so intimate out loud. 

“Lil?” he asks. 

“There will be an angel here in the morning to verify your answer,” she looks pissed, “Until then, the results are inconclusive.  And – kindly – keep it down for the rest of the night or I will ensure that neither of you have either the will or capacity to keep anyone awake with your antics ever again.” 

Drake winks at her, “You won’t hear another peep out of either of us.  Goodnight,” and he shuts the door softly, locking it.  I’m still staring at him dumbfounded.  He turns to me and chuckles, “Told you I never lost a competition,” he laughs and scoops me up. 

“Drake,” I try to arrange the swirling thoughts in my head into something cohesive, but fail epically. 

“Shh,” he shifts me in his arms until he can carry me comfortably, “It’s ok, Claire.  I know you’re still in love with Jamie.  I don’t expect you to say anything back to me.  The angel will verify my answer in the morning to the rest of them, but you already know that I spoke the truth.  Let’s get you in the shower and then to bed.  It’s late and you’re tired,” he walks me into the bathroom and sets me down to start the shower.