Three Wishes

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Three Wishes Page 9

by Kristen Ashley


  “For God’s sake, Nathaniel, take her out on the bike,” Victor broke in, giving in in his usual manner as he’d been doing with his children since they were born.

  “No!” Laura cut in. “Lily, you’re wearing a skirt,” she noted unnecessarily.

  Lily just kept looking at Nate imploringly.

  “You really want to ride, don’t you?” Nate asked softly.

  She nodded her head happily, sensing rather than knowing she was going to get her way.

  “We’ll ride,” Nate decided.

  “Yay!” Lily shouted, clapping her hands in front of her, completely lost in her reaction and she would think later she likely looked like a childish fool, not realising how compelling her exuberance was.

  “Fucking hell,” Jeff cursed not-so-under his breath.

  “That’s enough, Jeffrey,” Victor clipped.

  Lily ignored them, she wasn’t going to give Nate time to change his mind so she asked, “Where’s the helmet?”

  “I’ll get it,” Laura, giving in with dignified but somewhat ill-grace, said.

  “I’ll get my jacket,” Nate followed his mother and as she went toward the kitchen, he turned into the drawing room.

  Victor extended his arm, a cheeky grin on his face. “And I’ll introduce you to the Ducati.”

  “Okay,” Lily breathed, her eyes shining.

  Victor took her to the bike which was a kind she’d never seen before (a lot nicer than the one her father owned), and she loved it the moment she clapped eyes on it.

  Nate joined them moments later.

  Jeff had disappeared.

  “Wear this,” Nate said, shaking out a black, leather jacket.

  “Oh no, you wear it,” Lily replied, finding herself shy at the thought of donning a piece of his clothing.

  “Lily, something happens, the leather is at least a modicum of protection. Lord knows, the rest of you won’t be protected,” Nate explained, amusement and annoyance struggling for control of his voice.

  “Are you going to crash?” she asked, tilting her head.

  “No,” he replied, a grin twitching his beautiful lips. Amusement was winning, she was pleased to note.

  “Have you ever crashed before?”

  His dark eyes moved to his father and Victor chuckled.

  “Just put the coat on, Lily,” Nate ordered in a tone not-to-be-disobeyed.

  She ignored it. “You have crashed.”

  Nate didn’t answer. Victor’s chuckle turned into soft laughter.

  “I’ll wear the jacket,” she decided prudently.

  “Good idea,” Nate muttered, opening it for her and she turned her back to him and put her arms through the sleeves.

  It swam on her but she didn’t care. Something about having it on felt nice. He turned her around with his hands at her shoulders and she felt them there like they’d stay there (or like she wanted them to stay there) for the rest of her life. Then they were gone and she was facing him again. He surprised her by zipping it smartly up all the way to her chin.

  She immediately regretted allowing herself to be pushed into wearing the jacket.

  Now she really looked like a Pink Lady, wearing a huge leather motorcycle jacket.

  Her regret melted as she lifted her eyes to Nate’s. He was looking down at her wearing his jacket and even Lily with no experience whatsoever realised the look in his eye was something intensely possessive, untamed and very, very dangerous but in a good way.

  She gulped.

  “Here’s the helmet.” Laura had arrived on the scene.

  With great spirit, deciding instead to focus on her unexpected treat, she took the helmet from Laura, giving her a throwaway smile. Lily pulled back her hair and expertly donned the helmet while Nate pulled on his own and threw his muscled leg over the bike and Lily noticed, not-at-all-distractedly, how his jeans tightened against the muscles of his thigh when he did this.

  His visor was down and he turned his head to her. She didn’t hesitate just in case he changed his mind at the last moment. While he watched, Lily wriggled her skirt up, shaking her hips and bouncing on alternately bent knees. When she had it up to her hips, enough to straddle the motorcycle, she slung her leg around the bike and settled into position behind Nate. She gave a jaunty wave to Laura and Victor and without even thinking she wrapped her arms around Nate’s waist just like she’d do with her Dad.

  “I’m ready!” she shouted and her voice both ricocheted around in her helmet and was muted by it.

  Nate gave a short nod, started the bike with practised movements, movements that never affected her when her Dad did it but seemed, somehow, impossibly male when Nate did.

  Then they took off.

  And her arms, wrapped loosely around his waist, tightened. Because Nate didn’t ride like Will did. Nate rode fast and Nate rode hard.

  As they rode her tightened arms tightened even further until she was pressed against his back, the tops of her thighs pressed under the bottoms of his and her nether-regions were pressed against his backside.

  She didn’t care. She gloried in it.

  She was riding with Nate and that was all that mattered.

  She rested her chin on his shoulder and she loved every minute of it.

  They arrived at where they were going and Nate stopped the bike and settled it on its stand as Lily hopped off and wriggled her skirt back down. When she straightened her body, Nate was also off the bike. She could tell he was watching her through his dark visor and his hands were lifted to take off his helmet. She tore off her own helmet, shaking her head to clear her hair from her face.

  “That was great!” she cried, still lost in the thrill of the ride. She had no idea her smile was shining on her face and her eyes were bright and carefree.

  And then something happened that she would never have guessed, never have planned for, never have dreamed, not even wished for and never would have known would ever, in a million years, happen.

  With his helmet dangling from the fingers of one of his hands, Nate’s other arm snaked out, hooked around her waist and pulled her forward with a controlled violence that stole her breath.

  She slammed against the wall of his body.

  Then his mouth came down on hers.

  Hard.

  At this, she made a little surprised sound which came from the back of her throat.

  As she felt his body heat seep through the leather, her breasts crushed pleasantly against his hard chest, she relaxed into him. Her lips relaxed, her hands lifted to rest on his shoulders and she pressed herself against him as her belly did somersault after somersault after…

  His head came up just as abruptly as it went down.

  It was the first time she’d ever been kissed and she couldn’t breathe.

  “After dinner, we’re going back to my flat,” Nate stated in a voice that caused shivers to go down her spine and all along her skin.

  She didn’t even think to refuse him, she simply nodded mutely.

  He tugged the helmet out of her hand and, both helmets in one of his, her hand held firmly in his other, he guided her to the restaurant.

  And finally, on a great whoosh, she let out her breath.

  * * * * *

  “Let’s walk.”

  Lily was standing out on the sidewalk gazing up at Nate.

  The sun was still lighting the sky and even after all her years there, she couldn’t get used to the long summer days in England.

  They’d had a lovely, delicious dinner with her doing most of the talking. Nate didn’t say much and anyway, she was nervous, very nervous mainly because of the idea of going back to his flat after dinner but also because of the way he kept looking at her.

  “To the flat?” Nate asked, looking down at her, his handsome face relaxed, a smile playing about his lips.

  “No, just a walk. I feel the need to stretch my legs.” She used the words Sarah often said after a meal and she tugged at his hand, a strong, long-fingered hand that was holding hers. She’d
already noticed his hands, powerfully veined and well-formed with tapered fingers. Lily rather liked his hands but then again, Lily rather liked everything about him. “Come on,” she urged.

  She started walking, felt resistance on her arm when he didn’t and looked back. She gave a little, inviting jerk of her head and an encouraging smile.

  Nate relented and started moving forward.

  The smile she directed at him deepened.

  He immediately stopped, tugged on her arm and she stumbled backwards, whirled and fell into him.

  His arm closed around her and he bent his head and brushed her lips with his.

  Even though it was feather-light, she stared up at him dazed and, she noticed vaguely, her knees were going weak.

  He seemed satisfied by something then said, “Now we can walk.”

  She shook herself out of her daze and fell into step beside him.

  “I’ll hold one of the helmets,” Lily offered.

  “I’ve got it,” Nate returned.

  “No, really –”

  “Lily, I’ve got it.” His voice sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

  “Okay,” she gave in, somewhat disgruntled that he found her funny when she wasn’t trying to be.

  They walked hand-in-hand down the sidewalk until suddenly they reached Hyde Park.

  Lily knew London well, had been there many times but Hyde Park (which she loved), regardless of its enormity, always seemed to creep up and surprise her.

  “Let’s walk in the park.” She changed direction not waiting for him to answer or refuse her and entered the park. To her astonishment, he followed without argument.

  They walked more and she realised that she had never been so content, so happy, in her entire life.

  And she’d had led a contented (mostly), happy (mostly) life.

  She sighed with pleasure.

  After awhile she felt conversation was in order. Not because she was uncomfortable but because she was curious.

  “Are Laura and Victor your parents?” She was timid at asking him questions. She’d tried a couple at dinner and he hadn’t been very forthcoming with answers. He’d answered, of course, but he went into no detail and seemed to prefer, vastly, getting her to talk about herself.

  Nate answered, “In a way.”

  She looked at him out of the sides of her eyes.

  “How can they be your parents in a way?”

  She thought he wouldn’t answer her but he did. “They adopted me when I was twelve.”

  Reflexively, her hand tightened in his with this knowledge.

  All sorts of thoughts raced through her head as to why he was available at the age of twelve to be adopted none of them near as bad, although her heart broke at them, as what had actually happened.

  “Are they family?” she asked quietly.

  “How do you mean?” She could tell by his tone that he was distracted and was thinking of something else and if she knew what he was thinking, she might have run screaming from the park or possibly thrown herself at him.

  She walked, and always had done, watching the ground. He walked, she noted with another sidelong glance, facing straight ahead, confident and self-assured.

  She found this rather affecting.

  “Laura and Victor. Is one of them family? An aunt, an uncle?” she explained, thinking of his parents and how they so obviously loved him and were equally obviously proud of him, yet he didn’t call them “Mum” or “Dad”.

  “No relation.” His answer was short and didn’t invite further questions.

  They walked deeper into the park.

  He didn’t want to talk about it, she knew. But she needed to talk about it.

  He was, quite simply, hers. She’d wished for him. He didn’t know it, even she didn’t really know it at that moment, she would only really know it later but he was the love of her life.

  For these reasons she carried on.

  “What happened to your folks?” she enquired, her voice soft.

  This time, his hand tightened reflexively and she didn’t know what to make of it except that it couldn’t mean anything good.

  He stopped walking.

  She did as well, turned to him and tilted her head up to look into his eyes.

  “Lily,” he said quietly and looked down at her. She liked the way he said her name, it sounded good on his lips. His eyes, so dark (she didn’t know how, if they were grey or if they were blue), were intense. Nate kept talking. “I never knew my father. My mother was murdered.”

  Her eyes rounded in shock and her hand shot to her mouth, her fingers pressing against her lips. He said it tersely as if it was torn from him as if he’d never said those words to anyone in his life.

  “Nate,” she breathed against her fingers, she injected so much feeling in his name that she was surprised it didn’t come alive and hover in the air.

  He carried on, still watching her, assessing her reaction.

  “I knew Victor. He took me in and he and Laura adopted me. End of story.”

  And that it was for he turned and headed back the way they came. The walk was over.

  “Why didn’t you take their name?” Something made her whisper, it was none of her business and everything about him said so.

  “I never want to forget who I am,” he replied, though his answer made little sense to her.

  “And who are you?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

  And this curiosity took her irrevocably out of the safe, protected, sheltered bubble she’d resided in her whole life.

  He stopped, halted her with a tug on her hand and turned to face her. Then his arm slid about her waist and brought her toward him until her body hit the heat of his. Then his head bent, she thought he was going to kiss her again and she held her breath in anticipation.

  But instead he said more words to her than he’d ever said before in their short acquaintance.

  And they were very, very shocking. And very, very effective.

  “I’m the man who’s going to put your lush body on the back of his bike and take you to my flat. Then I’m going to take every piece of that lovely outfit off that lush body. Then I’m going to take you to my bed and I’m going to memorise, slowly, every inch of your skin. Then I’m going to watch you come while I’m inside you. That’s who I am.”

  Her mouth had dropped open.

  She hadn’t been spoken to like that in her whole entire life. She didn’t even imagine anyone spoke to anyone like that. And she hadn’t been naked in front of anyone, not another living soul since, well, since she could remember.

  “Lily?” Nate called.

  If there was a time when she should run, hide, escape, that was it.

  But Lily wasn’t even thinking of escape because she was too busy staring at him in dumbfounded awe.

  She realised he was waiting for her to answer.

  “Yes?” she whispered.

  It was then he bent his head to kiss her.

  This kiss was not hard and reactionary. This kiss was not feather-light.

  This kiss was something else.

  His lips settled on hers firmly as his arm tightened about her waist, pulling her deeper into his body. His tongue came out and touched her lips and not really knowing what to do but thinking her best bet was to open her lips (slightly), she did so.

  He took advantage, his tongue sweeping in her mouth and at the touch of it, the feel of it, the taste of it, her belly stopped all pretence at somersaults and launched right into several back handsprings and, she was pretty certain, a forward pike.

  She moaned (she couldn’t help it, it felt so good and she felt his kiss not just in her belly but everywhere) and her arms went around his shoulders, her fingers sifting into the crisp, soft hair at his nape.

  She heard from what seemed a great distance the helmets hitting the ground and his other arm came around her and crushed her to his body. One hand slid down over her bottom.

  She moaned again (she couldn’t help it,
his hand on her bottom felt so… very… nice and what she felt of him straining against her front was even nicer).

  His tongue played with hers, danced with hers, duelled with hers and she matched him, mimicking his actions, going on instinct not able to wrap her mind around a single thought. She pressed her hips against his, wriggling them for good measure and to get better purchase because she liked what she felt and she slid her fingers deeper into his hair, holding his head to hers.

  It was his turn to groan and she absorbed it in her mouth, realising with knees going weak, how he felt when he absorbed hers.

  It was luscious.

  He lifted his head or rather ripped his lips from hers in what appeared to be a great effort.

  Then he murmured, “Fucking hell, you’re magnificent.”

  It might not have been a compliment every girl who’d been addicted to romance novels for a decade desired to hear but it worked really well on Lily.

  “We’re going home.” His voice was both determined and urgent.

  Lily nodded.

  Their stroll back to the bike was more like a race. In fact, halfway there she pulled her hand free and stopped while he looked back at her impatiently. She didn’t say a word, just bent over, slipped off her shoes and held them dangling from their straps in her fingers.

  When she straightened, she tilted her head and smiled a quirky smile at him.

  And then she ran all the way back to his bike.

  Nate did not run. He strode purposefully with long-legged, ground-eating strides and he watched her as she ran.

  And even though he didn’t run, he made it to the bike mere moments after she did.

  And then they went home.

  Chapter Nine

  Nate, Lily and the Conception of Tash

  Nate nearly killed them on the way home.

  It was sheer, erotic torture having her sweet body pressed against him after that kiss.

  Once there, thankfully safely, Lily alighted from the bike first but he didn’t wait for her to take off her helmet. He grabbed her hand and dragged her behind him, using his free one to tear his helmet off as he strode into the building, completely ignoring the doorman who called out a greeting.

 

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