by Soraya Lane
She raised her gaze, reaching to touch Nate’s face. “I don’t want you to be my rebound, Nate.”
He sighed and fought the urge to kiss her. “I can’t be any more to you than a rebound, Faith. Any ideas you have about something more . . .”
“I don’t want more,” she said, her fingers strumming a gentle note across his skin, his cheek, and then his jawline. “I just want to have fun for the summer, before life becomes a whole lot more serious. And I want you to . . .”
“Teach you,” he finished for her.
She moved even closer to him, her body skimming his, breasts to his chest and her head tipped back. “I don’t want to be told that I don’t know what I’m doing again,” she whispered. “I want to . . .”
“Stop.” They were getting in a bad habit of interrupting each other’s sentences, but he didn’t want to hear any more of what she had to say. He couldn’t teach her, couldn’t take her to his bed, couldn’t . . . or could he? And what kind of jerk had been telling her that she didn’t know what she was doing in the bedroom?
“Why not?” she asked. “Is it just because of Sam?”
“You make it sound like that’s a stupid reason. It’s not,” he growled back.
“What if he never had to know? Isn’t that why you just brought me back here?”
“Do you want me to lie to him?”
Her smile made Nate want to do wicked things to her mouth just to wipe the grin away, to stop her from being so suddenly sure of herself when usually she was a whole lot more demure. Maybe it was because he’d never seen her drinking before, but she was turning into one hell of a confident woman.
“Is it lying if we just pretend like I’m only your housekeeper? That what he walked in on was a onetime-only mistake?”
He cleared his throat, staring down at her, into the deepest-brown eyes he’d ever looked into. “Was it a mistake?”
She laughed. “You tell me.”
The only mistake was letting himself near her in the first place. He should have let her in, then jumped on his jet and headed back to New York. Or maybe the mistake was not dragging her to his bed right now and getting her the hell out of his system.
“The mistake was letting you through my front door when I found you here the other day,” he muttered.
“You’re actually regretting it?” she asked, putting her palm to his chest and pushing back a little. “I don’t believe you.”
He grunted, not liking the distance she’d just put between them even though he was telling her the exact opposite. “I’m just annoyed at my sudden lack of self-control.”
“Because you’re always used to being the one calling the shots?” she asked.
“Exactly.”
They stood, staring at each other. Faith was waiting for him to make a move, he could tell, but as much as he wanted her, he still had a shred of control left when it came to her and his friendship with Sam. She’d been ballsy at the bar, but here in Nate’s home she looked a whole lot more uncertain all of a sudden.
“I think we need to call it a night,” he said firmly, finally letting go of her hand.
She nodded, cheeks flushed like she was seriously embarrassed, touched with the softest hint of pink.
“I’m not saying no, Faith, and it’s sure as hell not because I don’t want you.” He couldn’t help but smile at her. “Because I do want you, Faith, with every damn fiber in my body.”
Her mouth flexed into a big smile again. “Good night, Nate.”
Nate stood and watched her go, refused to go after her, resisted the urge to confess to being an idiot and kiss the hell out of her again. Because he needed time to think. Because Faith was forbidden. Because, damn it, it just wasn’t right.
Faith splashed cold water on her face and took a deep, shaky breath. She had no idea what the hell had happened tonight, but she was sure as hell grateful for having her own bathroom adjoining the guest room she was staying in. At least she wouldn’t have to see Nate again until morning, and even then she’d be hiding under the covers for as long as she could. He’d never specifically mentioned her having to make him breakfast as part of her live-in-housekeeper role, and she had no intention of offering this weekend. Not when she could do a perfectly good job of keeping her head buried in the sand.
What had possessed her to kiss Nate like that? It would have been fine if something more had happened between them, but he’d rebuffed her as soon as he’d had time to think it through, the moment they’d arrived home. The only thought keeping her sane was how he’d responded to her when they’d touched, but that was nothing if she never got to feel his hands on her again. Or his lips. She’d gone from being scared of a man’s touch to downright craving it.
Faith turned the faucet off and stared at herself in the mirror. She’d screwed up, read the signs wrong. And she’d never forgive herself if Sam and Nate didn’t mend their relationship—they’d been friends for so long, and as much as she wanted Nate, she also didn’t want to be the cause of a serious rift between them.
She ran her fingers through her hair, the curls almost completely fallen out now, and turned from the mirror. What she needed was a good night’s sleep. Everything would seem better in the morning; it always did. That was one of the few things she remembered her mom saying, something that had always stayed with her even after she’d left. When she had gone when Faith was just a teenager, it had been her choice to stay. But at that age, the idea of leaving her friends behind, not to mention her brother, had been almost unbearable, even though in hindsight she could see it had been the wrong decision. Instead of trying to understand, she’d turned her mom into the villain without seeing that her dad was to blame for so many of the reasons their marriage had broken down, and she doubted she’d ever be able to repair the damage even if they ever reconnected.
She undressed, put her dress on a hanger, and pulled on the tank top and boy shorts she always wore to bed, sighing as her head hit the luxurious feather-filled pillow. Everything about Nate’s house was incredible—the duvet was incredibly warm but light as a single feather, with a soft cashmere blanket at the end for extra warmth if she needed it and extra goose-down pillows in the closet. The bathroom was full of oversize supersoft towels, with tiles floor to ceiling, and the bedroom carpet was plush enough to wiggle her toes deep into. As much as she loved it, she was terrified of getting used to such luxuries—another thing she had in common with her mom.
Faith pulled out her iPad, looked up one of her favorite New York galleries, a place in Brooklyn that was showing some of the best street art and graffiti artists. Maybe she should have just gone there, soaked up the atmosphere, and seen all the art she’d researched firsthand. She sighed, deciding to put her iPad away instead of scrolling through. One day she’d get there, but right now she needed to stay focused on finishing her degree and saving her money.
She shut her eyes and sighed, wishing she could just fall asleep right then and there. There was a reason she’d never let herself fall for Nate, why she only wanted to have fun with him and not let anything serious happen between them, and it wasn’t because she didn’t want to settle down one day. Nate might be best friends with her brother, but it didn’t mean he’d ever marry her. Her mom had fallen for a man not so dissimilar to Nate, had dropped everything to be with the man she loved, until eventually he’d finished with her to please his family, married a woman from a family more similar to his own. No one was ever going to make Faith feel like she was anything other than marriage material, which was why she’d wanted to call the shots with Nate. And after seeing the way her dad had gone on to treat her mom, she wasn’t sure marriage was what it was made out to be, anyway. She didn’t want to compromise, not her career, her life, her choices—nothing.
A knock echoed out on the door, just softly. If she’d been asleep she never would have heard it. Faith flicked on the bedside lamp, a soft light now illuminating the previously pitch-black room.
“Faith?”
N
ate’s deep whisper made her heart start to race. She’d known it was him, there was no one else in the house, but just to hear his voice and know that he was standing outside her bedroom door sent chills through her body.
The door handle turned and she quickly ran her fingers through her hair, scooping it all over one shoulder. She glanced down to check her top was in place, opening her mouth to say something, until she saw the look on Nate’s face as he entered the room.
“Nate?” she murmured.
He was standing dead still, his hands balled into fists at his sides, mouth fixed in a straight line that didn’t give away any of his feelings. Until he ran one set of fingers through his hair and stepped forward, the look in his eyes like she’d never seen before.
“I can’t do this,” he muttered.
She dug her fingers into the duvet and tugged it up a little higher. He was an imposing figure just standing there like that, filling the doorway that he was standing in front of, but she wasn’t afraid of Nate. He was one of the few men in the world who could never intimidate her physically, because he was one of the only men she actually trusted. He’d protect her no matter what—and he was one of only two people in the world she could say that about.
“I don’t understand,” she said. As far as she understood, there was nothing happening between them. He’d made that clear less than an hour ago.
He stepped closer, his eyes pleading with her, the line of his jaw so rigid she didn’t know whether he was about to give in to anger and slam his fist into a wall or launch into bed with her. Anticipation hummed through her body as she thought about the latter. She still wanted him. Nothing would make her stop wanting Nate King. Nothing.
“I can’t sleep knowing you’re down here alone,” he muttered. “I can’t lie in my bed without thinking about you, without wanting to . . .”
“What?” she whispered, digging her nails into the duvet she was clutching. “What is it you want, Nate?”
She wasn’t going to make a move again. She’d shown him what she wanted, made it clear, and if he wanted her he was going to have to damn well take the initiative.
“I want to do wicked things to you, Faith,” he muttered as he stalked closer to her, eyes never leaving hers for a moment. “I want to throw back these covers and strip you naked. I want to taste every inch of you. I want to do anything and everything to pleasure you until you can’t take a second more of it.”
Faith gulped. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, her skin alight as if being stroked by flames. Just the thought of Nate touching her intimately was enough to ignite her pulse.
“So what are you waiting for?” she said, as brazenly as she could even though she was equal parts terrified about what he wanted to do with her.
“Don’t tempt me, Faith,” he as good as growled.
“This only has to be between you and me,” she said. “If no one else knows . . .”
“I can’t.” He was standing only a few feet from the bed now, still in his jeans but his torso bare, giving her a glimpse of the body she was desperate to explore. Now he was closer and bathed in light, she could see his abs, every single one of them, impressive on his tanned torso. His shoulders were big and broad, balanced by biceps so large she wanted to touch them to see how hard they were. He was built like an athlete; only he was a six-foot-four hulk of a man who wore Italian suits and was perfectly at ease running a billion-dollar corporation.
“So don’t,” she taunted.
“Damn it!” he swore softly under his breath, finally releasing his hands from the tight fists he’d been sporting until now.
Faith sucked in a breath, anticipation licking over every inch of her body. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except watch Nate as he lowered himself onto the bed and reached for her.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered as he cupped her cheek in one of his hands, staring into her eyes.
“I know,” she murmured back, lips parting as his mouth came closer.
Nate was done talking. His kiss went from soft, his touch gentle, to rough almost immediately. One second he was cupping her face; the next his fingers were tangled in her hair, his mouth rough on her lips and then her neck, his stubble a barely there roughness that reminded her just how damn masculine he was.
His mouth moved down her neck, his warm lips a contrast to his wet tongue that was trailing sensually across her skin. Faith moaned, she couldn’t help it, as one of his hands brushed her breast. She wasn’t scared of his hands—she wanted them everywhere.
“We need to slow down,” he muttered against her collarbone.
Faith laughed. “You’re the one racing ahead.”
He grunted and stopped, lifting his head. “It’s not my fault you’ve got such a goddamn irresistible body.”
“Touché,” Faith murmured, cupping the back of his skull to force him forward again, looping her other arm around his neck as she kissed him, surrendering to his mouth.
He plucked at her mouth, then deepened his kiss, exploring her body with his hand, stopping at the waistband of her boy shorts. Faith went still, silent, the only noise the rasping of their breaths.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, voice so deep and husky she hardly recognized it. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes,” she whispered back, raising her hips, forcing her body against his. His erection was rock solid against her belly, his desire for her more than obvious. It sent sparks of pleasure through her just knowing that she could have that kind of effect on the infamous Nathaniel.
“I’m only a man, Faith, and that means there’s only so long I can resist you.” He said the words against her skin, his breath hot. “If you say no, I’ll stop, but I can only be the good guy where you’re concerned for so long.”
“You are the good guy,” she told him, moaning as his mouth dipped to a sensitive spot on her neck. “But I want you to be bad tonight, to show me how to be a good lover.”
His laughter was muffled against her skin until he raised his head. “Whatever jerk told you that was lying,” he told her, stroking her face, brushing the hair from her cheeks. “I don’t need to teach you a thing. You know exactly what you’re doing.”
She’d been embarrassed, mortified, when Cooper had accused her of being a crap lay, but she also believed him. It wasn’t like she had a lot of experience, she had only had a few boyfriends, but she never wanted to feel ashamed or incapable in the bedroom again.
“Just show me what to do, Nate,” she said, staring deep into his eyes. “Please.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll show you anything you want,” he muttered, rising so he was sitting astride her, thumbs looping into the waistband of her boy shorts, not tugging them down straightaway, leaving her to wriggle beneath him. “But just remember, if it feels good for you, it’ll feel just as good for me.”
Chapter 8
Faith’s body was humming, Nate’s touch driving her so close to the edge, and he wasn’t even naked yet. The roughness of his jeans against her thighs was the only distraction from what he was doing to her, and even that felt great.
He had her naked from the waist down now, trailing kisses down her thighs, his fingers stroking so close to her . . . oh my god. His hand brushed against her most intimate parts, made her gasp, but he was only teasing her, his hands focused on ridding her of her top. He grabbed the hem and pushed it up, forcing the fabric up. She arched her back so he could get it off, raising her arms so he could lift it above her head.
And then she was naked.
“Your pants,” she croaked, barely able to summon her voice as Nate stroked one finger from her collarbone to the top of her breasts, dipping between them and then circling around one.
“Your breasts,” he whispered straight back.
Nate’s circles across her skin became smaller, until he was almost touching her nipple. But his mouth got there before his finger, sucking so gently, licking her so softly, that she could
n’t help but moan.
“Stop!” she moaned, not wanting to let him get away with being the boss. “Your jeans.”
He laughed and sucked harder until she was forced to wriggle away from him.
“Nate!”
He gave her a devilish look and pushed back, shrugging as he unzipped his jeans and stepped out of them. He was already barefoot, and suddenly he was standing in front of her with only his boxers on, his physical intentions more than clear.
“Tell me you’re not having second thoughts.” His voice was a sexy rumble.
She swallowed, eyes tracing over every inch of him. “No second thoughts.”
He dropped over her again, his big body swallowing hers up. “Good.”
“You’re not the wolf in sheep’s clothing anymore,” she muttered. “Just the wolf.”
Nate winked and covered her mouth with his, his hands back to exploring her body. She kept up with his touches, didn’t miss a beat, delighted in the feeling of everything he was doing to her. After so long wanting him, imagining what it would be like to be in his bed, it was every bit as good as she’d expected.
“Let me . . . ,” she started, wriggling down, mouth to his skin as she tried to get lower.
“No,” he said, dragging her back up and kissing her again.
“How can you teach me if you won’t let me learn?” she asked, her confidence surprising her. She’d never been so brazen before, not when she was being intimate with someone, but something about Nate was spurring her on. Maybe it was just his practiced touch, the laid-back yet attentive way he was pushing all her right buttons without even going further than second base.
“I’ll teach you another night.” He spoke against her skin, taking her hands and putting them above her head, fingers firm around her wrists. “Tonight is all about you.”
She wanted to protest, to tell him that this wasn’t part of the deal, but she couldn’t. The idea of Nate pleasuring her, lying back and letting him do anything and everything with her? That wasn’t something she had the strength to say no to. She tried to retrieve one hand, wanted to run her fingers through his thick black hair, to grip it hard, but he wasn’t relenting. She was powerless to move.