It doesn’t last long. A man can’t wrap himself around a woman like that without her quickly developing some needs. Every few seconds he moves, just the tiniest bit, his erection stroking against my quickly dampening core. Every time he strokes my back or squeezes my hip, as if reassuring himself I’m really in his arms, I get wetter.
And less patient.
Nate looks one hundred percent ready to not move a single inch for the rest of the day.
“Is this it?” I ask, mortified by the whininess of my tone.
He smiles drowsily against my neck. “Oh, I’m definitely going to fuck you. No worries there. But it’s an ungodly hour. No respectable human being is awake right now. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up with my cock later.”
I shudder, need rolling through me from head to toe in one long, hot wave. Nate smiles into my neck. “Liked that, did you?”
“Mhm. Careful, Mr. King. Or you might end up being the one woken up.”
His smile widens. “Zero complaints, there.”
We fall silent, cocooned in the warmth of our little nest, when suddenly the chorus of meows strikes up again. Nate laughs and lifts his head to croon at something over my shoulder.
“Um, so you have some cats,” I say.
He winks at me. “So you’ve met my pretties, then? You’re sleeping on their side of the bed, you know. You’re lucky you haven’t been viciously clawed to death.”
I burst into laughter. “Did you just call them your pretties? Nate … I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but those cats ain’t pretty. They’re not even in the general vicinity of attractive.”
He grins at me slyly. “Well, I could certainly call them my pussies if you’d prefer—”
“No, no,” I say quickly. “Pretties is a fine moniker for these lovely individuals. I think the orange one likes me. And by likes me, I mean tolerates me mildly.”
He snorts. “That’s Lindsey. She’s the friendliest of the bunch. Will generally let people pet her. The tabby is Serena, and the gray one is Danica.”
“And they’re named after …?”
He snorts. “Lindsey Vonn, Serena Williams, and Danica Patrick. Obviously.”
“You named your cats after a skier, a tennis player, and a race-car driver?”
“Oh yeah. The hottest ones.”
I roll my eyes heavenward. “Yep. Checks out.”
“No one else wanted them in the shelter,” he says defensively. “I wanted to give them powerful namesakes so they would find the will to dominate and no longer be scaredy kitties.”
“Well,” I say, drawing out the word, “you’ve definitely succeeded in that regard. I’m surprised they didn’t swat me off the bed.”
“They’re very protective of me. I’m the feeder.”
I snort.
“Buuuut,” he says, scooting the lot of them toward the edge of the bed until they hop down, “it’s time for them to exit the bedroom.”
“Oh?” I say.
He rolls us until he’s stretched out on top of me. “Mhm. Yes, I believe we require a little privacy.”
“So you’re saying you don’t want a feline audience?”
“No.” He trails a line of kisses along my jaw, down my throat and then even lower.
I moan and thread my hands through his hair. “Whatever happened to the ungodly hour?”
“Overrated,” he says against my skin, then sucks a nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls in lazy circles, alternating between stroking and biting. I moan again, clutching him against me, my legs spreading wide to allow him to nestle deeper between me.
Nate slides a hand down my body and then circles my clit, rubbing in time with the slide of his tongue as a finger enters me. I hook my ankles around his waist and urge him on, needing more, always more.
But then he stops.
“What?” I say in frustration, the beginning of my orgasm fading away.
He stares up at me, face serious enough I know there’s a problem.
“What?” I ask again.
He sighs, pressing a quick kiss to my breast before climbing back up my body until his forearms cradle my head and we stare into each other’s eyes.
“I need to know you’re okay with this first,” he says.
“… this?” I say, confused. “You mean you giving me an orgasm? Um, yeah. I’m all aboard. Or did you miss me grinding against you just now?”
He shoves a hand through his hair. “No, I mean this situation. It’s okay for you to be involved with me, right? It’s not like a … conflict of interest or something? It won’t, I don’t know, impede your judgment, like you mentioned that first day?”
I blink. He has a point. Damn it, the man has a point! Here I am, about to sleep with him again, and not once did my job enter my mind. So not okay. And while his tongue is incredibly talented, Nate’s not at fault for that. I am.
“Are you asking if I have an ulterior motive for sleeping with you?” I say.
Something flashes across his face, but he shakes his head. “No. You’ve always been straight with me. To be honest, I meant more about your boss. Is Northwood going to have a problem if he finds out we’ve hopped into the sack? Is there like a ban on NBI employees mingling with clients? This deal is really important. For both of us. I don’t want either of our futures jeopardized by something we could avoid. Don’t get me wrong, I like fucking you, but if I really have to, I’ll keep my hands off.”
Genuine concern flickers in his eyes. It’s not just his own label he’s worried about. He cares about my promotion, too. My heart squeezes with some undefined emotion I refuse to analyze too closely.
I study him for a long moment, really contemplating how much of a risk this is. My body wants to write it off entirely and get back to the fun stuff. But my mind remembers how petty Northwood can be. Do I really want to complicate this situation more than it already is?
Staring into Nate’s eyes, I know I do.
And it’s none of Northwood’s business, anyway. If I want to sleep with a man, that’s my prerogative. How’s he going to know, anyway, all the way across the country? He’s not coming back for weeks. It’s not like Nate and I are about to get married. This isn’t serious.
“There’s nothing outright in our employee code of conduct that prohibits us from being involved with one of our clients. It’s an informal industry,” I finally say.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” I reply. “And besides, it’s not going to last forever. I’m only here for a few weeks. What we do is our business, and no one else’s.”
“Yeah, true,” he says quietly.
“It’ll be fine,” I say firmly, making my decision.
He smiles, happiness lighting up his entire face. “Well, if you’re not worried, then I’m not.”
I smile at him, ignoring the small voice in the back of my head that says one can never really be sure what Northwood will do in a situation. He’s implied he’s sexually interested in me, after all.
But I refuse to worry about it.
“Good,” I say, putting the matter aside, “because I’d really like to get back to that orgasm now.”
“That can be arranged, Miss Shaw.”
“Why, thank you, Mr. King.”
Nate captures my mouth with his, but before his hand can move lower, someone starts banging on the apartment door.
Chapter Twenty
Nathan
“Go away!” I shout at the door. Jude giggles beneath me, sending white-hot desire pulsing straight to my cock. I stare down at her, those twinkling eyes, the short strands of her black hair streaming across her face, the flushed tint of her cheeks. She’s so incredibly beautiful when she smiles I struggle to breathe.
Hell, I want her.
“Who is it?” she mouths, brow cocked in question.
“I don’t care,” I say, taking her mouth with mine, sweeping my tongue inside to taste her properly. I haven’t kissed her mouth nearly enough for my liking.
The ban
ging starts up again.
“For fuck’s sake,” I groan. “I’m not here!”
“Nathan, get your ass out here! I don’t care who you’re fucking.”
Jude’s eyes widen. “Who is that?”
I roll mine. “That would be Axel. The oldest. I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure.”
“Uh, no. Just saw him from a distance that first night in the bar. Maybe you should see what he wants. Check on the farm, you know?”
“Aw, hell. When you put it that way.” I steal another quick kiss and then roll out of bed. I snatch my briefs off the floor and start to pull them on, then catch Jude’s heated glance. She’s leaning half-upright in bed, the covers drooped to reveal a naked breast.
“Checking out my ass, Miss Shaw?”
“And the front now, too,” she grins.
I throw up my hands like I’m framing a picture. “Don’t move an inch. I’ll be right back.”
Jude glances down, notices her breast has slipped out of the sheet, and actually blushes. And now I will really need to find some way to get her to blush again, because that was damn adorable.
I leave her sprawled in the middle of my bed and make for the door, opening it to reveal Axel who looks like death warmed over.
“Jesus,” I say in surprise, so shocked I take a step back. Axel takes advantage of the opportunity and muscles his way inside. Damn.
He looks like he hasn’t shaved in days. Huge bags linger under his eyes. His hair sticks up in every direction. And I’m pretty sure the stain on his shirt might be blood.
“Yo, bro,” I say hesitantly. “That’s not blood, right? Tell me you didn’t kill someone and need help disposing of the body?”
He glares at me. For once, it doesn’t intimidate me. The guy’s too much of a sad sack at the moment to really command a room.
“I cut myself trying to repair that damn tractor of Rory’s. We could have really used it to help clean up the fire at our farm. Bled all over. I’m fine.”
“Uh, I hate to break it to you, big bro, but y’all are not fine.”
“Shut your face.”
“Okay, then,” I say merrily, “if you’ll just be on your way, there’s someone I’d like to fuck, and you’re cock-blocking me. So ride on out of here, now.”
Axel tears his hands through his hair. “Can you help at the farm today? You’re the only one who doesn’t work during the day.”
“Yeah, because I work at night. This is kind of like my sleeping time? You know? In bed? With a willing partner?”
“Nathan!”
I sigh. “What do you want me to do?”
“I need help clearing out the remaining debris from the fire. Four men quit this morning, and without extra help, it’s going to take away from the harvest.”
“So, like, now or …”
He just looks at me.
“It’s okay. I’ll come, too.”
Jude’s standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but my shirt from yesterday. I’m instantly hard as fuck. She should waltz around for the rest of her life in nothing but that shirt.
“I don’t know you,” says Axel bluntly.
“Why do all of you keep saying that?” she mutters. “I’m working with your brother on his bourbon label.”
Axel swings to me. “So you really are doing something with that? Officially?”
“Yeah,” I say almost defiantly.
“Huh. Well, good.”
Coming from Axel, that’s essentially a ringing endorsement.
“But I need you to help me today, first.”
“Fine,” I grumble. “We’ll be over in a bit. Can you leave now?”
Axel flips me off, then leaves without another word.
“Fix your shit with Andrea!” I call to his retreating back. His shoulders hunch, but that’s all the response I’m going to get out of him. Was it really only last week that I stopped them from hooking up in my office?
Feels like a year ago.
Slamming the door shut behind him, I turn to find Jude staring at me in amusement.
“So, I guess that means no early-morning bed sex,” she says.
I groan, letting my face drop back toward the ceiling. “I guess not.”
“You know, one of these days, we’re going to have to do it in a bed.”
My stiff cock returns in full force. “Oh, that’ll for sure be happening. And sooner rather than later.”
“I need something to wear.”
I grin at her wolfishly. “Your outfit looks fine to me.”
She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t bring a change of clothes. I need something I can do manual labor in. My professional outfit from yesterday isn’t going to cut it.”
“You could work naked …” I muse.
“Nate!”
“True, the other men would see you. Unacceptable.”
“You’re impossible.”
“No, I’m just a man. And you’re sexy.”
She snorts, but her lips curve in a pleased smile.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll get dressed. Put on what you had yesterday; we can borrow some clothes from Rory since she lives next door.”
“Right.”
“But first, you’ll need this,” I say, snatching my cowboy hat off the peg by the door and placing it on her head. “Um, yeah. Even better than my fantasies.”
She rolls her eyes. “You and that cowboy hat.”
“Hey, now. I’m just protecting you from the sun. It’ll be really strong. We wouldn’t want y’all to freckle.”
“Oh, sure.”
I pull her into me, snatching a deep, satisfying kiss, before releasing her and whispering against her mouth, “And then later, we’re going to get back to what we were doing before we were so rudely interrupted.
After we stop at Rory’s house—who supplies Jude with a set of work clothes and boots—Axel puts us to work on the farm. Most of the remaining employees are still cleaning up from the fire, so Axel requests that Jude and I actually harvest.
I spent many a day during my childhood harvesting, so this is nothing new to me, but Jude surprisingly gets into it.
“Can I be the one to climb the ladder?” she asks excitedly, then climbs the thing without waiting for me to reply.
I laugh and stare up at her. The sun shines down through the trees, creating a brilliant halo around her cowboy hat-clad head. Jude’s hair isn’t as stick-straight as it usually is. In fact, it’s slightly wavy. It softens her somehow, making her appear more real, less like the usual hard-ass corporate type.
It occurs to me that she must use that thing women have to make their hair really straight. That means she deliberately makes it so. As with everything else in her life, Jude tries to control her hair as totally, as completely, as every other aspect of her life. Probably because she tried to control her brother’s impulsivity and failed.
And today, she’s let her hair go, because she spent the night in my bed.
I swallow hard, an almost feral satisfaction taking hold. I want to keep her all messy like that. All soft and warm and willing in my hands.
“So which peaches are the ones you like?”
“Huh?” I say.
Jude glances down at me. “Which peaches make good ones to use for Old Abe’s?”
“The really squishy, almost-rotten ones,” I say absently, staring at her plump ass hovering inches above my face.
“So like these?”
“Hmm? Yeah, sure …”
Something wet suddenly splats on my chest. My gaze jerks away from her ass. She’s laughing at me. I look down, groaning at the messy peach smeared all over my chest.
“Seriously?” I grumble. “This is one of my favorite shirts.”
“Yes, this is obviously a huge problem,” she says.
I roll my eyes, but then she steps down the ladder and tosses her bucket of peaches on the ground. A particular light flickers in her eyes.
I freeze, my shirt forgotten. I know that expression. It appears whene
ver I’m inside her.
“Jude …” I say slowly.
She stalks toward me, hips swaying. “Wow. So dirty,” she purrs, flicking the peach bits off my chest.
“What are you doing?” I croak.
Her gaze snaps to mine. “You know, I recall you saying you were going to do something to me yesterday.”
“Oh, yeah?”
She slips her hands under my shirt and begins drawing it up my body. My muscles clench in anticipation as her fingers glide over them. I haven’t the slightest idea what she’s about, but I’m already half-hard because of it.
“Yes. I recall you telling me I was going to be fucked silly. And you know what?”
I lift my arms so she can draw my shirt over my head and pitch it on the ground.
She trails her nails down my chest, staring up at me devilishly. “I’m feeling decidedly unsilly.”
“That is a problem,” I say, grinning slowly.
Jude stares at my crotch suggestively. “Yeah, a big problem.”
I reach for her, intent on kissing that sass right out of her, but she shakes her head. “No, no, big boy. I’m running this show.”
I throw my hands up. “I’m okay with this.”
She points at me. “Those clothes. Get rid of them.”
Like I need to be told twice. The rest of my clothes go flying, but Jude takes her sweet time. Every scrap of clothing is removed achingly slowly, so slowly that by the time she’s finally standing naked before me, I’m so hard it hurts.
“You left the cowboy hat on,” I manage to say, my voice so low it’s unrecognizable.
She grins. “I seem to recall you describing a certain fantasy about me and a cowboy hat.”
Oh, God.
Jude steps closer, bringing her body flush against mine. I shudder, gripping her waist so hard it’ll probably bruise later.
Lifting up on her toes she whispers, “And I’ve always fantasized about doing it outside. So it seems to me that we have an excellent opportunity here to make those fantasies happen. What do you say?”
“I say hell yes,” I growl, lifting her off the ground and taking her mouth with mine. Jude wraps her arms around me, kissing me back as I grind her against my erection.
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