Chapter 2
(Clara’s POV)
The next morning, I woke up with a plan.
I wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
Or for me.
I dug through my bag for the shortest skirt I owned—a little black pleated thing that barely skimmed my thighs—and paired it with a loose white crop top. No bra. No panties. Just the skirt and the top, and the thrill of knowing one wrong move would show everything.
I padded downstairs, innocent as I could be, my hair in a messy ponytail, like I’d just rolled out of bed.
I met Ryan in the kitchen, pouring coffee, back to me. He wore a fitted t-shirt and jeans that hugged his ass perfectly.
I bit my lip and hopped up on the counter to “reach” for a mug on the high shelf. I could feel his eyes on me, trailing from. The top of my shoulder to the heel of my feet.
Just a
