This feels more like the man I’ve come to know. Thoughtful. Kind. Lacking pretense.
“I picked up a bottle of vin santo rosso. Seemed to be something you enjoy.” Nathan slides off his jacket and loosens his bow tie, then pulls a corkscrew out of a drawer and a bottle of wine off the rack. “Kept thinking you might be here someday. Then I kept thinking that was pretty stupid of me, right up until it happened.”
Nathan pours wine for me and whiskey for him, then pauses before handing me the glass. “You don’t have to stay. In case that needed to be said. I can drive you home or call for a ride or whatever you want.”
Energy sizzles between us. He’s giving me an out I don’t want.
“Do you want me to stay?”
He tosses back his whiskey and puts the glass on the counter without looking at me. “Only if you want to.”
“Nathan.” I put a hand on his, craning my neck to meet his eyes. “Do you want me to stay?”
The question hits the conversation like a sucker punch. His jaw pulses and his hands ball into fists and I’m standing here, waiting for an answer that shouldn’t be this hard to find. An answer I have to have before anything else happens.
We started out hating each other but that isn’t true anymore.
Something’s shifted.
Something important.
And before I let myself think thoughts like that, I need to know. Does he want me? Is this real? Or is Fallon right and I’m falling for an illusion?
Nathan takes the wine glass from my hand and places it beside his whiskey. “I want you to stay.”
“Because if I stay, we’ll…” I pause before I suggest he finish what he started at Blush.
“I want that too.” His voice is husky. It rasps into the room, drenched in need. “I’ve wanted it every day since we first met.”
And then Nathan’s lips are on mine, kissing away the confusion. This chemistry isn’t fake. Neither is the way he touches me, so reverently. He brought me here tonight because he wants me for himself.
And I want him just as much.
I slide my hands up his back, reveling in the corded muscles under my hands and oh my God when did this start to feel so right? When did I start needing him to touch me? To lick me?
When did I start wanting him to want me?
Nathan grips my hips, then skates his hands over my ass. “That’s what I fucking thought,” he growls. “No panties.”
“We agreed not to comment on each other’s underwear.” My lips drag across the stubble on his jaw, his throat. I slip my hands under his jacket and push it off his shoulders. He lets it fall, then brings his hands right back to my body.
“I also agreed I wouldn’t touch you without an audience,” he says, grabbing my ass in both hands and pressing me against an impressive erection. “Are you saying you want me to stop?”
“God no. I’m saying I want more.”
More, Nathan. More.
Now, Nathan. Now.
I slide his bowtie from around his neck, then pull his shirt out of his pants, undoing his buttons because he’s seen me naked and now, I need to see him. He watches me work, his eyes on my fingers, and then, when the last button is free, he’s kissing me before I have time to appreciate what I unveiled. We’re a tangle of limbs, desperate to feel everything, all at once. Months of chemistry boiling to a head.
To this moment.
The two of us finally giving in.
Nathan hooks his arms under my hips and I wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me past the kitchen to a first-floor bedroom that looks like it’s been plucked off my mood board for his new house. He places me on the edge of his bed, then kicks off his shoes and lets his shirt fall to the floor. I trail my fingers down his chest and abs, tracing the smattering of dark hair that disappears into his pants. He’s had me moaning in pleasure and now it’s my turn to return the favor. I work the button at his waist but he takes my hand, kissing each finger before he kneels in front of me to work the strap of my shoe, his thumb caressing my ankle. His lips kissing my calf.
First one.
Then the other.
Then the zipper of my dress and the one in his pants and he’s climbing on top of me, his knees spreading my thighs as he lowers me to his bed. “I’m gonna be greedy this time,” he whispers, “but I’ll be generous afterwards.”
“Be greedy,” I say, reaching between us to wrap my fingers around his cock.
He groans, a guttural sound that has my legs draping around his waist, heels digging into his ass. I want him inside me, thrusting, hips rocking, bodies sweating.
“Condom,” he murmurs as I grip his length, pumping him toward my opening.
“I’m on the pill.”
Nathan’s gaze captures mine, hooded, heated, hungry. He presses his crown against me, stretching me as he slides agonizingly into place. My mouth opens, my jaw thrust forward, eyes locked on his as I adjust to his girth. I’m panting, close to exploding, and he hasn’t even started to move. Just having him inside me is a masterclass in pleasure.
“Fuck, Mina. You’re perfect.”
And with a single roll of his hips, our worlds shift, moving inexpressibly closer. Intermingling. Unifying. A blessed harmony.
I gasp and moan as he braces his hands on either side of my head, his lips crashing over mine. Our skin slaps and his pace speeds and I clench around him because oh holy fuck I didn’t know it could feel like this.
