"Well, I do have some good news," Clarke announced as the got back to Bellamy's house.
"And what is that?"
"I'll be out of your hair soon. Saturday, I will be a homeowner," she smiled. "And I'll have my car back."
"Really? That's fast," he chuckled.
"Yeah, it'll be cleaned tomorrow morning."
"That's awesome," he nodded. "But, you're staying here until you get power and water."
Clarke smiled, "Yes, sir."
"About this morning," he started.
"Yes?" Clarke challenged.
"I'm sorry for uh, jumping you like that I--"
"Bellamy," Clarke interrupted, stepping towards him. "I'm twenty one years old," she laughed. "And, I dropped to my knees right in front of you and took your pants off," she whispered in his ear, sliding her hand up his chest.
"Yes," Bellamy swallowed. "You did."
"Which, if I remember correctly," she said, her hand tracing him throug his jeans. "You stopped me before I could get a taste."
Clarke squealed as Bellamy grabbed her, lifting her. She wrapped her legs around I'm his waist, her lips dropping to his neck as he carried her to his bed.
They spent hours tangled in his sheets, exploring one another.
YOU ARE READING
Postcard Princess
RomanceBellamy has never met the blonde girl in all of the postcards that covered the walls of his job. But, damn if she wasn't beautiful. Clarke had left her hometown years ago. She packed her bags, jumped into her car, and never looked back. But, now sh...
