Friday Eve Snippet – Rhian Cahill

Wasn’t sure what to post a snippet of today. Decided to give you a taste of a hot short story I’m working on at the moment. Remember this is unedited and straight off my fingertips. Enjoy.

– snippet –

Claire Jones stared at her best friend of almost forty years and wondered when it was Jane had lost her mind. Then again maybe it was Claire that had lost hers. Either that or her hearing had gone in the last two minutes. Surely she wasn’t that old. She’d be forty-two next birthday. At what age did the body start to go?

Her fork hovered between mouth and plate, the bite of lobster forgotten. Jane could not have just said what Claire’s mind tried to convince her it heard. No, it had to be whatever possessed her of late—the thing that had her fantasizing about her very sexy, very young, next door neighbor.

Claire smiled, “For a second there, Jane, I thought you said I should fuck Ryan.” She popped the fork into her mouth and savored the delicate flavors of lobster, butter and garlic as they exploded across her tongue.

Jane chewed the piece of steak she’d just popped in her mouth as she reached for her glass of wine. She swallowed and then took a sip of the deep red liquid. Her wine coated tongue slid out to wet her lips before she said, “I did.”

Claire choked on the lobster she’d just swallowed, her fork clattered to the plate and she reached for her water. Coughing and spluttering as she tried to ease the food down her throat.

“What?” she croaked.

“You should fuck him.” Jane held her gaze. “I’ve seen the way he eats you up with his eyes. He’s hot for you, and before you deny it, I know you’ve been having all sorts of interesting fantasies about him. You told be so yourself.”

The smug look on Jane’s face made Claire want to take back every word of the conversation where she’d confided more than one of the steamy daydreams she’d been having about Ryan. She thanked her lucky stars she hadn’t divulged the incredibly hot wet dreams she’d woken with every night for the last month.

“Jesus, Jane. I’m old enough to be his mother. What the hell are you thinking?” Claire tried to keep her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze darting across to the nearest table. The thought of anyone overhearing their conversation terrified her.

“Only if you’d had him really young.”

“It doesn’t change the fact I’m old enough to be his mother.”

“But you’re not.”

“Christ. There’s at least fifteen years between us. I even look old enough to be his mother,” Claire protested.

“No you don’t, and you’re not.” Jane’s words took on the tone she got whenever someone was pissing her off.

“But I could be!” Claire couldn’t keep her own irritation from showing in her voice. Why couldn’t her best friend see how wrong this whole discussion was?

“Again, you’re not.” Jane’s hand slid across the table and landed on Claire’s. “You don’t look a day over thirty and one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen outside of a magazine drools all over you whenever you’re close. I’m not telling you to marry him. I’m telling you to take what both of you clearly want. Fuck each other into oblivion for the sheer pleasure of it.”

Jane pulled her hand back and picked up her glass. Claire waited for her to say something else. Waited for her own mind to think of another reason why it was a bad idea to even think about fucking Ryan, never mind actually doing it. But Claire’s mind had gone the way her body had the minute she’d met Ryan Doherty—straight to the hell of lusting after a man she could never have.

COPYRIGHT © RHIAN CAHILL 2010

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