by Kira Blakely
I pause.
“Come on. You must have already thought of something.”
“Nothing particular, actually,” I tell him. “A lion. A wolf. A tiger. A bear.”
“Let me guess. A lion because I’m a womanizer.”
“No.”
He ignores me. “A wolf because I’m somewhat of a loner. I don’t really socialize, especially with other men. A tiger because I always wear sleek suits. Either that or because I have pointy fangs.”
He shows them.
“I never even noticed until now.”
“And a bear because I’m scary when I lack sleep?”
I chuckle. “I swear I didn’t know that.”
“Why then?” He stops to lean against the trunk of the nearest tree.
“Not telling.” I walk past him.
“Is that so? Well, if I was going to describe you as an animal, I’d say you’re a—giraffe.”
A giraffe? “Because I have long legs?”
“Because you stand out even when you don’t want to.”
I stop walking then turn around slowly. “I actually thought of myself as a squirrel.”
“Because you like nuts?”
I’m about to say yes, but I realize there’s a different gleam in his eyes.
“Because I keep forgetting where I put things,” I answer.
“I thought it’s because you scurry off at the slightest sign of danger.”
“I don’t,” I argue.
“So, you’re saying you’re not going to scurry off now?”
He backs me up against the tree, his arm above me.
I swallow. “Am I in danger?”
His blue eyes narrow, clouded over with lust. “Yes.”
Once more, I can feel the desire rolling off him in waves, waking mine. It’s stirring the flames inside me, bringing the heat out to my skin and my breasts.
Shit.
“Well?”
What am I afraid of? Of being hurt? Of falling short of his expectations? Or is it the consequences? The possibility that he might discard me afterward? That other people might find out and change their opinion of me?
“If you’re going to run, you better run now.”
I don’t answer. I’m cornered prey, and everything is at a standstill. One move could change everything.
How should I move? Flee? Fight? Or stay and allow myself to be captured?
He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “But if you don’t, I promise I’ll be gentle.”
And I know he can be gentle.
Oh, to hell with the consequences.
I surrender, closing my eyes. The moment I do, his mouth claims mine, robbing me of breath.
Damn.
He’s sucking whatever resistance is left inside me, filling me with desire as he pushes me harder against the tree, the bark rubbing against my clothes and my heels sinking into the moss. His lips crash down on mine over and over, his tongue exploring my mouth as he places his hand on my arm, stroking.
I can feel fire in my veins all the way down to my toes but especially in my full breasts that are threatening to burst out of my clothes and between my legs, where something else threatens to explode.
And the quivering bulge that presses against my leg lets me know that the sensation isn’t mine alone.
Suddenly, he pulls away, and as our gazes meet, I can see the lust in my eyes reflected in his, his pupils dilated under half-closed eyelids.
He grabs my hand. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
Chapter 7
Claimed
We get to his apartment in record time.
At least, I think it’s his apartment. He hasn’t told me. Actually, he hasn’t spoken much and neither have I. I’m too nervous to speak. I haven’t had sex in a while, after all, and I’ve only experienced it twice before. What if I’m not good enough? What if I mess up?
My excitement is stronger than my fear, though, and my heart races as I run across the lobby of the building with him, rushing toward the elevator.
The doors close and all heaven breaks loose.
He kisses me fiercely as he wraps his arms around me, pushing me against the wall as I lose my balance. Just like that, my nerves and fears disappear. I’m not afraid of being in an elevator; the amazing feel of his mouth on mine drowns every other sensation.
When the doors open again, we stumble out. Lips locked and arms around each other, we manage to get to his apartment. Somehow, he finds his keys and opens the door, closing it once we’re on the other side by pushing me against it, his hands on the hem of my sweater.
He pulls it over my head then kisses me again as he works on the buttons of my dress. I gasp as his hand brushes against my breast.
When he’s popped the last button, I slide off the sleeves, letting my dress droop to my waist. He’s unfastening my bra now, my breasts bouncing free, nipples growing stiff as they come in contact with the cool air.
I toss aside my bra and step out of my dress, pausing when I realize he’s staring at me through half-lidded eyes. Staring at my breasts, to be precise.
I make a half-hearted attempt to cover them with my arms but he grabs my wrist and pulls them away. His gaze lingers on my breasts for a few moments more before drifting down past the curve of my belly to the only piece of clothing I have left on.
That small piece of cotton that’s now soaking wet.
“Are you just going to stare at me all evening?”
He grins. “I’m just savoring my meal before I dig in.”
“Well, this meal will get cold if you keep it waiting too long.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure I can warm it right back up.”
He carries me to the bed in his strong arms, setting me down on it.
For a moment, his gaze holds mine then he descends on me like a bird of prey. He bites the lobe of my ear lightly then pecks my neck. I moan. He kisses the valley between my breasts then my breasts, first showering them with reverent kisses and then sucking on them, taking my pebbly nipples between his lips. I shudder.
He moves lower and just in anticipation of his wicked mouth, my sex tingles beneath the drenched cotton, weeping even more when he plants a kiss right on top of it. That’s all he does there, though, moving on to giving me tickling kisses along the insides of my thighs all the way to my ankles.
It’s good but it’s not enough.
“More,” I demand hoarsely.
“Are you sure?” he asks, tugging a pert nipple between his teeth.
I gasp. “Yes.”
Nathan pulls down my underwear, leaving me completely naked. Again, he stares and, for the first time, I become aware of the fact that maybe I should have shaved, something I’ve never done.
He doesn’t seem to mind, though, burying his head between my legs as he utters a single word.
“Mine.”
The next thing I know, his mouth is there, his tongue delivering caresses that make me tremble before it slips in.
Shit.
I throw my head back, burying my fingers in his soft brown hair.
His tongue slips in and out, exploring, stroking, tasting more and more of me. His fingers join in as well, rubbing my engorged clit.
Together, they deliver a well-orchestrated assault, driving me to the edge of madness and ecstasy. I grip the strands in my hand tighter, pulling, wanting more, wanting release.
When it comes, my whole body shatters into pieces, my mind blown away.
I lie still, breathless and eyes sealed shut.
When I open them again, Nathan is standing over me, peeling his clothes off.
Just like that, the haze fades. I sit up, staring at him.
It’s my turn to savor him.
And I do, my gaze burning into every inch of skin revealed.
His broad shoulders.
His sculpted chest.
The dips and curves of his chiseled stomach.
And the eight inches curving up from between his legs.
The thicke
st, longest and hardest erection I have ever seen.
Shit.
My eyes grow wide.
If only I had a camera right now to capture that perfect body, though something tells me I don’t need a camera to remember it.
It’s embedded in my memory.
Magnificent.
At the same time, though, I feel a pang of worry.
Can my body take it?
Nathan touches my cheek. “Shh. It will be fine. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
I want to tell him that I’ve never had anyone this big before. Not even close. There have only been a few, after all.
But I just nod. “Yes.”
“Just open up to me. You want me, don’t you, Sam?”
In answer, I reach out to him, placing one hand behind his neck and wrapping the fingers of the other around his cock.
It quivers, sending a ripple through me.
“Sam, if you do that—”
He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t have to. I know what he’s trying to say.
Reluctantly, I let my captive go, gripping his shoulders as he kisses me.
While his mouth keeps mine busy, his finger slips inside me.
I squeeze it, wanting it deeper.
He pushes in.
I gasp.
He pulls away, grinning. “Now, I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.”
I can’t bring myself to laugh at the pun, my mind turning to mush along with my body.
He slips another finger in, and I lose all control.
I fist the sheets, writhing in delight as his fingers — those wicked fingers — plunge in and out of my core, making me wetter.
Hotter.
“Nathan.” His name escapes my lips as a hoarse whisper.
Like a command, it spurs him into action. His fingers leave me, reaching for the rubber on the nightstand and hastily rolling it on before biting into my thighs.
He lifts them, the tip of his cock nudging the hole he has prepared.
“Let me in, Sam.”
And he pushes in slowly.
I gasp. I cry. I cling to him.
He begins to move. Even through the rubber barrier, I can feel his heat and his thrusts.
My heart races.
The pleasure climbs.
“Shit.”
The curse is the only word I can manage, my mind growing blank as he moves faster.
Deeper.
Harder.
I come, my lips parting to let out a silent scream, my nails and heels digging into his back as my body arches beneath his and trembles around him, shattering into even smaller fragments than before.
Vaguely, I feel him still moving but suddenly, he stops, burying himself deep inside me as he lets out a groan.
And just like that, the pieces of me that are being put back together scatter again, his orgasm causing me to have one more, like an earthquake causing another.
After, I lie still, gasping for air, waiting for my body to feel again, for my mind to start thinking again.
By then, Nathan already has his pants on. He has his back turned to me, and I frown as I see the scars from my nails on either side of his tattoo.
I summon enough energy to get out of bed so I can kiss them.
“Sorry,” I murmur.
“The squirrel has claws,” he says.
I run my fingers over the black ink. “What’s this?”
“Just a souvenir from my time in the Army.”
I blink. “You were in the Army?”
“Just for a year. My dad was in the Army, and I wanted to experience it for myself. But it’s not for me.”
“Where is he now?” I ask bravely.
Blame the courage on the afterglow.
“He died when I was still a teenager,” Nathan answers. “My mom’s gone now, too. She died before she could see me become successful.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
I suddenly remember my own parents. Will we ever be okay again?
“What’s wrong?” he asks, turning around.
“Nothing,” I lie. “Just tired.”
“Go to sleep.” The words sound more like an order than a request. “I still have some things to do.”
I want to ask him what, but I yawn instead.
Being tired isn’t a lie, after all. All the exhaustion from the arguing, crying and the sex are sinking in, and I suddenly feel exhausted.
I crawl back into bed, pulling the blanket up to my shoulders. “Good night.”
“Night.”
Chapter 8
Curiosity and the Cat
In the morning, Nathan is gone.
No note on the pillow.
No note on the nightstand.
No breakfast in the kitchen.
Nothing.
And absolutely no sign of him.
It’s almost as if last night never happened, except that the soreness between my legs is proof it did.
Have I just been discarded?
I can just imagine Pam saying ‘I told you so’ and I frown. Surely, it can’t be true.
Or maybe it was true before with other women but not in my case.
Are you sure?
There’s that annoying voice again. It didn’t get the chance to speak up last night so now it’s rearing its head and giving me a lecture.
And it’s even worse than Mom’s lecture.
Because try as I might, I can’t seem to ignore it.
Are you sure he hasn’t discarded you?
I look around the apartment. It’s even more spacious than the hotel suite we went to before, the bedroom in a loft.
A luxurious apartment.
And right now, it’s empty.
Empty.
The perfect opportunity to investigate.
My conscience resists, but my curiosity wins out.
So what if Nathan finds out I’ve been snooping? I deserve to know the truth. Besides, it’s his fault he left me alone.
If I’m careful, maybe, just maybe, he won’t even find out.
After putting my clothes back on, I start with the bedroom, pulling out the drawer on the nightstand.
Just a pile of condoms. Different brands. Different colors. All XL.
Suspicious. Why does he keep so many condoms?
The other drawers in the bedroom are locked so I check the closet, finding a box at the bottom.
Bingo.
There are only magazines in it, though — his stash of porn magazines.
Surprising.
On second thought, not really.
He’s a grown man, after all.
True, some of the pictures in the magazines are far too obscene for my liking, but hey, what do you expect? It’s a porn magazine.
At least, none of the pages seem sticky.
In fact, they seem new, as if they’ve never been read at all.
Still, why keep them?
I put the magazines back in the box, the box back in the closet and move on.
Nothing in the bathroom. Nothing in the kitchen. Nothing in the living room.
All that’s left is the office.
I hesitate. After all, there could be important documents in there. Sensitive documents. And cash.
But it’s not like I’m going to steal, after all. In fact, I promise to behave and not read any of the documents.
Taking a deep breath, I enter. The room is large but there isn’t much inside it — just a lot of shelves, a filing cabinet and a massive but sleek, black desk in the middle.
I check the drawers of those first.
Locked.
The next one is locked, too.
In fact, most of the drawers are locked. I’m about to give up when I feel an envelope hidden behind a row of books on the shelf.
I open it with slightly shaking fingers, my throat going dry as I see the notebook inside — a notebook with pages filled with women’s names, pictures and numbers.
There are no other women in my contacts.
/> Maybe not in his contacts but there are certainly plenty of them here.
Liar.
It’s enough to make me regret sleeping with Nathan, but then I see the pictures and I start to loathe myself.
They’re pictures of Nathan with various women.
Stolen shots.
Barry’s shots?
But he seemed like he didn’t know Barry. And Barry said he had nothing to gain from showing his pictures to Nathan.
Unless they were both lying.
Nathan had already lied once.
At any rate, it doesn’t matter who took the pictures. The pictures are clearly of Nathan and other women.
And he is keeping them in an envelope hidden in his bookshelf.
Shit.
So, this is what ‘curiosity killed the cat’ means.
Now that I know, I wish I didn’t, the pain in my chest making it hard for me to breathe.
Hastily, I put the pictures and the envelope back in place then I hurry out of the apartment, wishing I had never set foot there.
Pam was right, after all.
***
“I told you so,” Pam says over coffee when we meet at a café a short while later.
The words sting, but I deserve them. I should have listened to her.
I should have been smarter, but no. I fell for Nathan Landers’ tricks.
It’s a good thing I didn’t fall for him yet.
You slept with him, though.
“Shut up.”
“What?” Pam gives me a puzzled look.
“Nothing.” I pick up my cup. “I’m just talking to myself. Scolding myself mostly. So, really, you don’t have to be so hard on me.”
Pam shrugs. “All I said was ‘I told you so.’”
“Twice.” I take a sip.
“Want me to say it a third time?”
I frown. “You would have been tricked, too, if someone gave you a dog shelter.”
Pam’s eyes grow wide. “He gave you a dog shelter?”
I nod. “Sort of.”
“Nah. Dog shelters aren’t my thing. If he got me exclusive interviews with certain people, though…”
“See. You have an Achilles’ heel. Everyone has. He used mine. If he used yours, you would have been fooled, too.”
“Or maybe I would have just used him.”
“Now, why didn’t that occur to me?” I set down my cup. “Oh, right. Because I’m not cold like you. Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that that might be the reason why you’re still single?”