by Ella Arden
“I don’t.” What kind of question is that?
She steps closer until she’s almost between my legs, my stool putting our faces at the same height for once. The sweet smell of her shampoo—the same kind she’s used since I’ve known her, the kind that never fails to make my mouth water—surrounds me. I’m so surprised by her nearness that I don’t even think to pull away.
I can see the challenge in her eyes. “It sure seems like you care,” she says.
I want to tell her to stop being ridiculous, that I only care because it’s been so amusing to watch Tom drooling over her all night, but the words aren’t there. She grins at my silence and my gaze can’t help but drop down to her mouth. Her lips are so pink and soft looking, lips made to drive men crazy.
I swear I feel something charged in the air between us and when I meet her blue eyes, her smile is gone and she looks nervous. I can see her pulse fluttering in her neck and when she gently bites her plush bottom lip, my stomach clenches.
“Nathan,” she murmurs, “I—”
“What’s going on over here?” Jessie’s voice is like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head, shocking and unwelcome.
Aria jolts back, nearly bumping into the table. “Nothing,” she says quickly. “I was just about to leave. I wanted to get home before all the crazies come out.”
My sister looks between me and Aria, not convinced. “Are you two fighting again? You promised you were going to be on your best behavior.”
“No,” Aria reassures her. “We were… I was just saying goodbye. In a perfectly civil way.”
Jessie’s eyebrow goes up but she doesn’t push it. “Are you sure you want to leave already? It’s Friday night, don’t be such a grandma. If you’re going to leave early, at least take Tom with you.”
“Ha, ha, very funny,” Aria deadpans. “I’m sure—I’m tired, it was a long week and I have a bubble bath with my name on it. But I’ll call you tomorrow morning, we've still got breakfast plans.”
She gives my sister a quick hug, stepping to the side to pull on her jacket and check that she has everything in her purse, like she always does.
Jessie turns to me. “What are you grinning about?”
I didn’t realize I was. “Nothing. Just enjoying my drink.”
“Uh-huh.” She clearly doesn’t believe me. “You better not have chased her out of here. She seemed like she was having a good time with Tom.”
“I didn’t do anything, she was ready to go when she came over. And do you really want her with that guy?” I gesture over to where Tom is watching Aria get ready to leave. “Look at him, he’s not even going to offer to walk her home and it’s dark out.”
Sure enough, Aria heads for the door and Tom doesn’t move. He just watches the door close behind her, that stupidly disappointed look on his face.
I shake my head and down the rest of my drink, stand, and pull out my wallet to slap a few bills down on the table. Jessie watches with an arched eyebrow but doesn’t say a word.
“What?” I know that look on her face.
“Nothing.” She rolls her eyes. “I just know two of the dumbest people on this planet, I swear.”
What is that supposed to mean? I don’t have time to question her. If there’s one thing I know about my sister, it’s that she’ll bring something up when she’s ready.
“Whatever you say.” I grab my jacket and hurry out of the bar.
CHAPTER THREE
ARIA
The biting wind sobers me up pretty quickly as I walk out of the bar and down the street. I’m only a little tipsy but that warmth in the pit of my stomach vanishes almost immediately as I shiver and button my jacket all the way up to my chin. I should have thought ahead for once and driven over.
At least my apartment is only a few blocks away, so I won’t be out in the cold for long. A bubble bath, a smutty romance book, and the tub of chocolate chip mint ice cream in my freezer are calling my name. I deserve it after tonight, putting myself out there and giving Tom a chance, only to realize he wasn't remotely doing it for me.
I don't know what's wrong with me. I meet a nice guy, get to know him, and it always just feels wrong. Tom is cute, he's perfectly friendly, he has a dog so his chances of being a serial killer are low, but I felt nothing when I looked at him. I have this weird sense that I'm looking for something specific but I just don't know what it is. Or my brain is just determined to keep me horny and lonely forever.
Frustrated at myself, I walk a little faster, wanting to get home, where I don't have to think about growing old and dying alone. My boots click across the pavement, the wind finding all the little cracks in my jacket as I turn down my street. It always feels weird to be out this time of night, when the city streets are mostly deserted and quiet, only the occassional car going by. A little unsettling, if I’m being honest.
Almost as unsettling as the man who steps out of a dark alley in front of me. He’s probably twice my size and definitely staring at me.
I avoid eye contact and keep walking. A car passes, its headlights casting long shadows across the road before it turns the corner and vanishes. Maybe I should cross the street, isn’t that a thing you’re supposed to do when—
Someone else grabs my arm, roughly dragging me into the darkness of the alley. He's big, strong, and not pleasant smelling.
“Let go!” I react quickly, kicking out and catching him solidly in the leg. He grunts in surprise and I’m able to pull myself free of his grip, stumbling back against the cold alley wall. My heart is racing like a jackhammer in my chest.
Shit, my pepper spray is in my other bag.
The second man—the one I was paying attention to on the street—blocks the entryway of the alley while the one who grabbed me curses and reaches down to grab his leg. Good, I hope it hurts.
“Hand over your purse,” he demands.
I really should, I know I should, but my hand tightens on the strap. My mom always warned me that my stubborn streak was going to get me into serious trouble one day.
Looks like that day is here.
“I’m going to scream if you don’t move.” I try to sound confident. “Is this really worth getting arrested for? I don't have any money.”
“Just grab it from her,” the first man tells the second, and he takes a menacing step towards me.
Shit.
“Hey!” The sound of footsteps racing down the alley echo in the small space. I must be going crazy because I swear the voice sounds like Nathan Hunt.
And now I swear that Nathan Hunt is punching the guy blocking the alley in the face. A solid punch from the sounds of the fleshy hit and the way he falls to the ground.
The man who grabbed me doesn’t even hesitate to run away when he sees that his buddy is getting his ass handed to him, vanishing around the corner. What a coward.
When I turn back, I’m met with an all too familiar scowl. Yeah, I’m not imagining it, that’s definitely Nathan.
“What the hell were you thinking walking home alone in the middle of the night?” he all but growls at me. He looks furious but his gaze is locked on me, even when the man he punched to the ground pulls himself up and scurries away.
My usual snappy remark dries up in my throat. My whole body is shivering and my eyes are weirdly hot. I’ve never been so relieved to see anyone in my whole life.
He stares at me and his scowl slowly fades. “Are you okay?”
I can’t talk so I just nod. I was seriously almost just mugged in some dark alley. Those guys could have hand knives or guns or—
“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he says, his voice still gruff. He wraps a firm arm around my shoulders and guides me back into the light of the sidewalk. I blame my traumatizing situation on the way his body feeling so good against me, and I want to nestle up against his warmth and the safety he offers.
“I don’t understand,” I finally get out. “I left you at the bar.”
He doesn’t answer and I try to sort it out in
my head. Even if he left just after me, he would have just gotten into his car and driven in the opposite direction, where his apartment is. How did he even see me get pulled into that alley? I was on a whole different street than the bar.
The next thing I know, we’re stopped outside my apartment building and my questions only increase. Nathan has never been here before and I certainly haven’t told him where I live, so how did we end up here? My confusion deepens when he pulls the door open and leads me up the stairs right to my apartment.
“What’s happening?” I ask. “Are you a mind reader or something?”
He doesn't laugh, just grabs my keys from my bag and opens the door for me. The familiar scent of my apartment—the clean laundry half-folded on my couch and jasmine—greets us. I feel some of the anxiety weighting down on my shoulders disappear.
I'm home. I'm safe.
Nathan follows me in and closes the door behind us. The lamp by the couch is on, illuminating my living room with a warm light. We watch each other warily for a second. I don’t know what to think, what to say.
“Were you following me?” I make myself ask, wondering if it sounds as ridiculous as I think. But why else would he have been there when he drove to the bar and last I saw, was sitting cozy with a drink in hand?
He cocks an eyebrow in that dismissive, arrogant way of his, but something about his posture makes me think he might be nervous. “What, no 'thank you'?”
God, he's such an ass, even now. “Yes, thank you, of course. But seriously, start talking. How did you know where I was, and how do you know where I live? You have to know how creepy this feels, right?”
Nathan lets out a huff of breath then looks away. “I was following you home,” he admits. “That jerk Tom didn’t offer to walk you back even though it's the middle of the night and I was worried.”
My jaw is two seconds away from dropping to the floor. Nathan worried about me? What sort of alternate universe is this?
“Why didn't you just tell me that and walk with me?”
He gives me an incredulous look. “We both know you would have bitten my head off, given me some speech about how you can look out for yourself and don't need an escort just because you're a woman, and stomped off by yourself.”
I open my mouth then close it. He's probably right. But only because I would have assumed his intent was to belittle or embarrass me, which is really his fault.
“And you know where I live because…?”
Nathan grimaces. “I’ve followed you home a few times before. I know how that sounds, but only when you’d been drinking and it was dark out. I just want to make sure you get home okay, nothing weird.”
I’m at a complete loss. Heat is crawling up my neck, and I feel weirdly flustered, like there's a heavy weight on my chest. And there’s something in the air between us, something charged when his hazel eyes meet mine.
“Why? You don’t like me. Why go through all that effort?”
He just stares at me and I suddenly can’t breathe. A whole mess of things are rising up in me, things I’ve tried so hard to keep pushed down. I don't know what to think, what to do. The way he's looking at me, like I'm so stupid, so blind—
“Let me grab you a bandaid,” I blurt out. “Your hand is bleeding.” I bolt into the kitchen to grab one from my first aid kit under the skin before he can say anything. I’d noticed his split knuckle on the walk over, the smear of red across his skin.
I take a second in the safety of the kitchen to take a deep breath. This is Nathan. I need to get my head on straight. Not only are we seriously not compatible, but Jessie would kill me if I did anything with her brother. He is firmly off limits, no ifs, ands, or buts.
I forget all about that when I walk back into the living room and the air is still heavy with unspoken things. When he's still looking at me like he is.
“Here.” I take his hand in mine, wiping away the bit of blood with a wet napkin. I try to focus on what I’m doing but my hands are trembling and I know he can feel it.
“Are you mad at me?” he asks quietly, not even wincing when I press a bandaid against his split knuckle a little harder than necessary.
“No.” I'm finished but I can’t make myself let go of his hand. His skin is so hot and distracting.
I glance up and our eyes meet. Something twists in my stomach as he reaches out and gently brushes a stray piece of hair behind my ear, fingers lingering on the sensitive skin of my neck.
“If you’re not mad, what are you?”
My mouth goes dry. Aroused, definitely aroused despite my better judgement and the fact that this is my best friend’s jerk of a brother. I really don’t think it’s my fault though—he just saved me from a mugging, admitted he secretly watches out for me, and now he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me. I'm pretty sure any woman would have the same reaction right now.
I don’t know how to answer but I don’t have to.
He leans in and kisses me.
Wow.
Fireworks.
I think I gasp in surprise against his mouth but he just kisses me harder, his lips somehow so soft but so urgent and demanding against my own. My hands twist in the front of his shirt as I give in and kiss him back, sinking into his embrace.
His kisses taste of mint, alcohol, and white hot desperation that makes my knees go weak.
He lets out a groan that I feel rumble deep in his chest, a sound that makes my nipples harden and my thighs quiver, and wraps his arm around my waist to pull me closer. When his tongue plunges into my mouth, tasting me like he can’t get enough, my heart nearly races out of my chest.
I want to deny this, pull away and remind him that we aren’t friends, and we certainly aren’t anything more. But his kisses make me come undone, make my whole body sigh in relief and press against him. And I know, deep down, I’ve wanted this for so long.
I’ve been madly in love with Nathan Hunt for years. Madly in love with my best friend’s arrogant, over protective, controlling brother who is a hundred percent off limits.
I'm in so much trouble.
Nathan backs me against the nearest wall, his body scorching hot and so firm. I can’t help but arch against him, feeling his erection push against me. God, everything about him is so big and hard.
Our heavy breathing fills the air as we separate to tug at each other’s shirts, and the second I yank his off over his head, my hands are exploring his muscular chest. So many torturous years of pool parties and summer trips, of sneaking glances at shirtless Nathan from the corner of my eye. He feels better than I ever imagined and I imagined it a lot.
My shirt follows right after and Nathan wastes no time palming my breasts through my plain black bra, leaning in to suck at my neck. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he breathes against my skin, and I feel myself blush—he's never said anything like that to me before.
His fingers brush over my nipples, pulling an embarrassingly loud moan from me. Just a bit of kissing and touching and I can already feel that I’m achingly wet for him.
He wastes no time shoving my pants down and getting me out of them, my underwear going right with them. I have a split second to wonder if he’s going to fuck me right against my living room wall, when he drops to his knees.
Oh, God.
“Nathan—” is all I manage to get out before his mouth finds my core.
I can barely breathe. His mouth is so hot against me, tongue licking and flicking in all the right spots. He doesn’t try to work me into it or go easy, just going at me like he can’t get enough. One of his hands comes up to roughly grab my thigh and lift my leg over his shoulder, opening me up wider for him.
My hands find his hair and he makes a noise of approval against me as I roll my hips against his face.
I can already feel my orgasm building in me.
“Fuck, don’t stop.”
He sucks at my aching clit until I think I’m going to scream, only to switch to long, languid licks up and down until I’m shaking a
nd quivering around him. And when he groans into my center, his deep voice rumbling and vibrating against me, I fall apart.
My whole body feels electrified and all I can do is hold onto him as I come in pulsing waves of pleasure. As I orgasm, I glance down only to find his eyes already on me, watching me from between my thighs. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Slumping back against the wall, I try to catch my breath and make sure I don’t fall over as Nathan slips my leg from his shoulder and stands, holding me steady. My core is throbbing and aching but in the best way possible.
Well, there’s no way around it—Nathan Hunt just gave me the best orgasm of my life.
CHAPTER FOUR
NATHAN
Aria looks so painfully beautiful—naked and flushed against the wall, her perfect tits heaving as she tries to catch her breath—that I can’t help but kiss her again.
I never want to stop kissing her. Or stop touching her silky soft skin.
She’s all I’ve ever wanted.
Her sweet mouth opens beneath my kiss and fuck, her little gasping moans are going to drive me insane. She kisses me with passion that I’ve never felt before, an eagerness that makes me want to take her right here on the living room floor.
I sink my hands into her silky hair, holding her against me. I've spent so many years making sure I don't look at her twice, don't think about her, don't let her see how I feel—I can't believe that she's actually with me right now.
I nearly lose it when she arches away from the wall, grinding and rubbing against me. I’ve never been so hard in my life and I nearly came in my jeans early when she orgasmed on my tongue. She'd tasted so good, been so responsive beneath me, mewling and moaning.
When she reaches out and strokes my cock through my jeans, I can’t take it anymore. I need to feel her, to be inside of her. All of the patience I might have once had was used up in my years of longing.
“I want you,” I tell her, loving the way her blue eyes get molten hot. “Right now.”