Two Wrongs, One Right

by Katee Robert

  “In a hurry, baby?”

  He was going to put a stop to her smugness. Right fucking now. Thank God they’d reached his truck, because he had no problem tossing the boxes of food onto the hood, spinning her around, and pressing her against the door. Their rough breathing was the only sound in the dim parking garage, and she leaned back, revealing the line of her throat, which drew his helpless gaze down to where her breasts pressed against his chest.

  Control. He needed control.

  The thought flew out the window when she arched against him. “Kiss me.”

  He was supposed to be seducing her senses, and then taking her back to the hotel to do the same to her body—to be proving she could trust him, even if it was only in the bedroom for now. Instead, he ground against her, lowering his mouth to take hers.

  It felt like he’d been wandering for years and finally made it home.

  She moaned as her arms slid around his neck and her leg came up to loop around his waist, drawing him closer. As if he was in danger of backing away—not now that he’d gotten his first taste of her.

  She gasped as he kissed his way down her neck, nibbling on the spot he remembered she liked.“Would you like to know a secret?” she whispered.

  Doubtful. “Sure.”

  “I’m not wearing panties.”

  Whatever last scrap of good intention he had dissipated. He shoved up her dress, nearly groaning when he found that she was telling the truth.This entire time, she was walking around without a single barrier between her and his mouth, his hands, his cock. No longer. He slid his hands under her ass and lifted her so he could grind against just the right spot. Chelsea moved with him, desperate, needy sounds coming out of her mouth.

  Just as he was trying to figure out where he wanted to taste her next, her entire body went taut and she sobbed out a harsh breath. Nathan froze. Did she just… No way. He had to be wrong. But then he leaned back so he could see her face. “Did you just come?”

  She blinked at him, looking shaken.“No. Of course not. That’s ridiculous.”

  Before she had a chance to protest, he shifted and touched her between her legs, his fingers coming away drenched. “You just came.”

  She pushed at his shoulders, and he let her shove him away. Chelsea adjusted her dress, but the prim and proper look was ruined by the flushed skin and hazy gleam in her eyes. “I think it’s time to head back.”

  Yeah. Definitely. Because he had a whole lot more to think about than he’d anticipated. That said, he wasn’t about to let her completely off the hook. He stepped forward to cup the back of her neck and dragged her closer. “Make no mistake—this is only the beginning.”

  The look in her eyes couldn’t have been clearer than if she’d said the words aloud. Oh shit.

  5

  Chelsea couldn’t decide if she wanted to cry or rip off her clothes and crawl into Nathan’s lap. Perhaps she should do both, just to give him a jolt. She’d been so optimistic as they left the restaurant, and then she’d gone and practically told him she’d been a nun since moving to Seattle.

  Someone who was having sex regularly didn’t have spontaneous orgasms in the first fifteen seconds of making out with a man. At least she was relatively certain they didn’t. It wasn’t like she’d know.

  It wouldn’t have been so bad, but he’d smirked the whole way back to the highway. And why shouldn’t he be feeling superior? He’d called her bluff and had gotten a very significant clue as to what she’d been doing—or hadn’t been doing—over the last eight years. He probably thought he had her right where he wanted her.

  Didn’t he, though?

  She was reeling from the orgasm, her body still sparking with the memory of his hard length pressed against her, his mouth on her neck, his rough hands holding her to him.

  Chelsea wanted to scream her frustration to the heavens. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It didn’t matter how he made her body feel—she couldn’t trust him. He’d more than proven that when he tricked her into marrying him, then left her drowning when he walked away. She looked at him, humming under his breath as he drove. He was oh so pleased with himself. She couldn’t let it stand. She wouldn’t.

  Steeling herself for what she was about to do, she slid closer to him and wedged herself under the arm he’d stretched out across the bench seat. “Nathan?”

  “Hmm?”

  “It’s my turn.” She cupped him through his jeans, nearly groaning at how hard he still was.

  A muscle jumped in his jaw and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “That’s not necessary.”

  And let him get the last word? Absolutely not. She stroked him, biting her lip at how familiar his cock felt in her hand. “I think it is.” She carefully unbuttoned his well-worn jeans and dragged down the zipper. His cock practically sprang free, demanding her attention even if he refused to say how much he wanted it.

  That was fine. He thought he could keep the upper hand by not giving voice to how much he wanted her mouth on him? He was wrong. She knew exactly how desperately he wanted her, because she felt exactly the same. As if she would die if she didn’t keep this going. She slid down the seat and took him into her mouth, sucking him down until he bumped the back of her throat and a string of curses filled the cab. At that first taste, she forgot all about her plan to torture him, forgot her reasons for being there, forgot everything but how much she loved this—how much she’d always loved this with him.

  The truck veering to one side nearly threw her under the wheel, but Nathan’s hand on her shoulder kept her steady. As soon as the vehicle stopped moving, she went back to what she was doing, swirling her tongue around the crown of his cock.

  “Fuck, baby.”

  He was close. She was sure of it. A little bit longer and she’d be the one wearing the self-satisfied grin while his body shook from his release. She took him deep once more, leisurely pulling back.The temptation to leave him on the edge was there, but she couldn’t do it—not with Nathan’s hands tangled in her hair and his hips moving in counter rhythm to her mouth. He swore again, his grip tightening, and that was all the warning she got before he came. Chelsea kept going, working him until the last shudder left his body.

  Worst of all, she wanted more.With a shaky exhale, she moved to the other side of the seat and reached for her seat belt.

  “Not so fast.” He looped an arm around her waist and dragged her back to him. Nathan tucked her in against his side and, this time, she couldn’t work up much effort to hold herself stiff. “How about we just enjoy the afterglow?”

  That felt a whole lot like surrender, which was something she couldn’t afford. “I’m perfectly fine over here.” She slid out from beneath his arm and reclaimed her seat. Distance was what she needed, though she suddenly wasn’t so sure there was enough distance in the world to make her stop wanting Nathan.

  She needed to stop that line of thought right in its tracks. She reached for something to say that didn’t involve what she’d just done. Or their past. Or any other hot subject. “Is Gabe happy?” Yes, that was a better subject—a safer one. “I never would have pictured him with a woman who’d sneak into bed with you.”

  The thought of him with another woman sent her stomach roiling. She didn’t have a right to the feeling. Not anymore. He might be her husband, but it was in name only. Logic had nothing to do with the feeling winding its way through her, though. She wanted to punch Elle in her pretty face and scream that Nathan was hers.

  Except he wasn’t.

  “Eventually we’re going to have to talk about us. You can’t hide from it forever.”

  She didn’t need forever. She just needed a weekend. “Is he happy?”

  Nathan sighed. “Gabe’s happier than I’ve ever seen him. They’re one of those couples who are so achingly perfect for each other they almost make you sick.” Just like he and Chelsea had been.

  “Good. He deserves to be happy after everything that happened.”

  One of the things she’d
mourned for most after she left was the knowledge that, aside from his brother, Nathan would be well and truly alone. Their father abandoned them, but he’d been terrible enough before he left that his leaving was a blessing. Or so it’d seemed until their mother passed away. Both boys blamed themselves, as if they could have done something to stop it.

  Even thinking about the aftermath had Chelsea’s throat closing. She’d been there through it all, from her limited interactions with Gabe showing him stepping into a parental role, through Nathan trying to be strong for his brother. To no longer be a burden.

  She’d also been there the single time Nathan had broken down and cried, great sobs that terrified her, as if his grief were too large for his body. She’d held him and whispered meaningless words until the worst of it had passed, but things had never been quite the same between them. There was a new distance there, as if he were embarrassed that he’d been weak in front of her. Less than two weeks later he’d married her, secretly joined the Army, and shipped out.

  She pushed away the memory, but the hurt that rose from it wasn’t going anywhere so easily. It didn’t matter that she’d begged him to stay, had told him how much she needed him there and how scared she was of how her family would react when they found out about the wedding.

  He’d flown out the next day. The ring on her finger was cold comfort when he’d barely spared enough time to say good-bye, his face blank as he shut her out. Past is past. She’d moved on—mostly. After this weekend, she’d finally be able to put Nathan firmly behind her.

  Nathan kept ahold of the steering wheel, wishing he’d kept himself under as much control. But shit, what was he supposed to do when she’d palmed him through his jeans? It was impossible to say no when the very thing he’d wanted more than anything was literally crawling into his lap. And, damn it, Chelsea knew it. The entire night had been one giant tennis match, both of them trying to trip the other one up.

  He still wasn’t sure who’d come out on top.

  The absurdity of making small talk after she’d just had her mouth around his cock wasn’t lost on him, but he couldn’t force her to talk about their past. Not yet. It would be discussed before the end of the weekend, because he wanted some goddamn answers— especially if she expected him to sign those papers. He opened his mouth to say as much but, once again, she beat him to the punch.

  “I heard you started your own gallery.”

  Nathan sat back, deciding he was content to let this play out for now. Tonight might not be going like he’d planned, but he already had quite a few answers. He knew she hadn’t been with anyone recently—no way would she come from the little they’d done if she had. It didn’t mean she hadn’t been with anyone since him, but he sure as fuck wasn’t going to dwell on the thought of his wife with another man. Not until he knew the truth one way or another.

  The second—and more important—thing he knew was that Chelsea wanted him. He’d suspected, judging from her responses earlier this afternoon, but now he knew for sure. The fact that she’d heard about his gallery was just one more piece of evidence that she hadn’t completely let go. It would have been remarkably easy to ignore his very existence, especially when she’d gone and moved to Seattle.“Yeah, I opened it a few years ago.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “It’s in a decent-sized location in downtown Spokane. There’s plenty of room for my sculptures, as well as wall space for paintings or whatever other mediums I pick up.”

  Truth be told, it was almost identical to the gallery they’d said they always wanted. The one they were supposed to buy together.

  God, he hadn’t thought about that in years—not since he’d actually walked through the place and decided to purchase it with his newly inherited fortune. The insanely large chunk of money they received upon his father’s death was the only positive thing he had ever done for Nathan and Gabe.

  There was no point in taking that particular trip down memory lane—any trip down memory lane.

  His and Chelsea’s past was dead and gone, just like a lot of things in life, and he’d gotten very good at not sifting through the memories of his time with her. It was the only way he’d managed to stay sane all these years.

  He watched the lights flick across her face as they drove.“I’m not the only one with a gallery, though. Tell me about yours.”

  Her sigh was almost silent. “It’s not much. A little spot in the Fremont District where I can sell my photos and whatever else catches my eye.”

  She might be humble about it, but he happened to know that her gallery had been shortlisted as one of the most prominent up-and-comings in the area. “That’s great.”

  “It’s making a living doing something I love. I can’t complain.”

  And she obviously didn’t want to keep talking about it, though a thousand questions bubbled up. He wasn’t sure how she’d ended up circumventing her family—her father, in particular—in order to pursue her dream of being a professional photographer, but he was damn proud. “How’s your grandmother?”

  Chelsea’s posture straightened, as if the old woman would appear to smack her in the back of the head for slouching. “Nana is fine. Better than fine. She’s celebrating her seventy-fifth birthday next week.”

  “That should be an interesting party.” He could handle Chelsea’s parents, but Rose Callaghan was blunt to the point of being rude and too old to change her ways according to the family. The night Chelsea had stood up to her parents with Nathan at her back, Rose had taken one look at him and passed judgment. He still wasn’t sure what that verdict ended up being.

  He turned onto the road leading to the hotel, trying to decide how he wanted the rest of the night to proceed. He’d barely shut off the car when she slid from the cab and slammed the door. Nathan shook his head. Just like clockwork. She got a little uncomfortable and decided she needed space. Fine. He could give her a little space—just enough that she dropped her guard—and they’d begin again bright and early tomorrow morning.

  She stayed a few steps ahead of him and wouldn’t look at him while they were in the elevator. It would have amused him if he wasn’t fighting not to haul her into his arms and kiss her until she forgot why she was running in the first place. He opened the room door and held it for her. “Chelsea.”

  For a second, he thought she’d pretend she didn’t hear, but she turned around in the doorway to the bathroom. He waited until she met his eyes. “I understand that you don’t trust me,” he said, “but I have every intention of regaining that trust—at least in the bedroom.”

  “Nathan, really. I’m exhausted. I just want to sleep.” And hide. Well, he wasn’t going to let her hide for long.

  He smiled. “That’s fine. Get your rest. Because you’re going to wake up to my tongue on you, and the first word out of your mouth is going to be my name as you come.”

  6

  Nathan woke early after getting so little sleep it shouldn’t even count. Even if his general insomnia hadn’t been an issue, no way could he relax knowing Chelsea slept just a few feet away in the other queen bed, wearing little more than a giant T-shirt. It didn’t help that he could smell her perfume. Every time he tossed and turned—which he did through most of the night—he got a face-full of Chelsea.

  Now, having given up on sleep entirely, all he could think about was the promise he’d delivered before he went to bed. The thought of his mouth on her heated his blood, but he couldn’t bring himself to wake her up this early.

  By the time seven rolled around, he decided enough was enough and went in search of the gym. Forty-five minutes of heavy weight lifting didn’t do a damn thing for his concentration. He stepped onto the treadmill and cranked up the speed, half wishing he could outrun the thoughts whirling through his head. It was a trick his best friend, Ian, swore by, though it wasn’t doing anything for Nathan this morning.

  He’d never stopped to consider that seducing Chelsea was a double-edged sword. It was impossible to keep his distance when she
touched him or he had her taste in his mouth. One little kiss, and all he could think about was reclaiming every inch of her body. His desire threatened to derail his carefully thought-out plan, which was something he couldn’t afford with so much on the line.

  Nathan wiped the sweat from his forehead and went in search of the breakfast buffet everyone had raved about. Thankfully, though he was the best man, he’d been on the edges of the actual wedding planning itself. Elle and her best friend, Roxanne, had swept through the process, ironing out everything down to the smallest details. His brother had been forced to voice opinions on the bigger issues, and Nathan had been forced to hear Gabe bitch about it. Not too bad of a gig as far as he was concerned.

  He stopped at the entrance to the buffet room and caught sight of both Gabe and Ian. They must have been lying in wait for him because he barely took a step into the room when both jumped to their feet and started toward him.

  If he tried to avoid the upcoming conversation, they’d just follow him to his room. Neither man was the type to sit idly by when the people he cared about were fucking things up. And Nathan had the sneaking suspicion they’d both agree that he’d done—and was still doing—just that.

  Knowing a clean escape was a lost cause, Nathan headed for the buffet. If he was going to have this conversation, he was going to do it while he stuffed his face. After filling his plate, he sat at the table where they’d taken up their positions.

  It figured the only thing capable of calling a true ceasefire between these two men was Nathan’s issues. They might not have been at each other’s throats since they all went shooting months ago, but he never thought he’d see Gabe and Ian working in tandem. He really should have known better.