by Street, K.
I did as he’d asked and entered my information to get a receipt via email.
“Thanks for coming out,” I halfheartedly said and handed over his phone. It wasn’t that I wasn’t grateful because I was, but I was hot and so over this fucking day.
“My pleasure. I’ll see you Monday.” He offered a wave, trekked to his work van, and pulled out of the driveway.
Nash looked at me and asked, “Ready for that pizza?”
Food was the last thing I wanted. It was too damn hot to eat, and the house wouldn’t be any cooler. “Actually, you go ahead. I’m going to open the rest of the windows and take a shower.”
Nash thoughtfully looked at me. “Come home with me.”
“What? Nash—”
He held up a hand, indicating for me to stop. “Mace, it’s too fucking hot to stay here, and unless you want me camped out on your damn porch all night tonight and tomorrow night, too, because your windows are wide open, you’ll come home with me.”
That was Nash. Fierce and protective. Loyal to a fault.
For a second, I wanted to argue. Tell him what a horrible idea it was. Sharing the same space with Nash for the next thirty-six hours was more temptation than I’d be able to handle. Lately, the constant crackle of sexual tension between us was so intense; the electrical hum was practically audible. The more we were around each other, the harder it was not to cross that line. And damn how I wanted to cross it.
I still needed to come clean. When I did, it would break him and change everything between us.
One night.
That’s all I want, and then I will tell him everything.
“Okay,” I heard myself agree.
“Yeah?” His tone was filled with surprise. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”
“I like my creature comforts. What can I say?” I shrugged and began walking toward the front of the house.
Once we were inside, I put our empty beer bottles in the recycle bin and then went to my room and packed a bag. I shut the windows I’d opened earlier, grabbed my purse and keys, and then followed Nash out the door and locked it behind me.
“I can bring you home Monday morning before work if you don’t want to drive,” he said, grabbing the pizza and beer from the porch.
“I’ll just follow you. It will make Monday easier.”
At my driver’s door, Nash balanced the beer atop the box and opened the door. I dropped my bag onto the passenger’s seat and climbed inside.
“I’ll see you at the house.” He smiled and closed the door.
The drive to Nash’s place didn’t take long, and when we got there, I pulled up behind him, grabbed my stuff, and followed him inside.
I’d only been here a few times when Nash hosted a group gathering. The only reason I’d come then was because, if I hadn’t, it would’ve made things that much more awkward.
I looked around the room, taking in the quaint space and mishmash furnishings. A well-worn chocolate leather sofa anchored the space. Adjacent to the couch sat an upholstered gray recliner with a small, round table situated between the two pieces of furniture. Everything in here, except for the giant television mounted to the wall, screamed thrift-store find. Not in a bad way. It was homey and inviting.
“Are you ready to eat, or do you want to take a shower first?” he asked, heading into the kitchen.
I tossed my bag on the couch. As if on cue, my stomach growled. “I could eat.”
Nash set the pizza box on the counter and then went to the fridge and swapped out the warm beers for cold ones.
I washed my hands at the kitchen sink and dried them on the hand towel.
“Here you go.” He passed me a beer. “Help yourself,” he said and tipped his head toward the pizza.
“Thanks.” I opened the box and took out a cold slice, sinking my teeth into it before dropping into a chair at the table.
After Nash washed his hands, he carried the box and his beer over and sat in the chair opposite me.
For a few minutes, we ate in comfortable silence.
God, I’ve missed him.
My best friend.
Moments like this.
Just the two of us.
My gaze met his across the table. His smile reached inside my chest and squeezed my heart.
“What are you thinking?” I quietly asked, lifting out a second slice.
“How right this feels. You. Being here. The two of us sharing dinner together on a Saturday night. How much I like having you in my space.”
Every syllable was a pinprick stabbing my flesh.
I averted my eyes, not able to handle the intensity of emotions I saw in his.
Tell him.
My appetite vanished. I returned the uneaten slice to the box and took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to te—”
“No,” Nash cut off my words.
My brows furrowed. “No?”
“Not tonight, Mace.” His tone demanded.
But that wasn’t what had me hesitating.
It was the pleading look in his eyes. The one that said …
Just give us tonight.
I lifted the beer to my lips and finished what was left. The quiet stretched between us. Needing something to do with my hands, I began to pick at the label wrapped around the side of the bottle.
“All right,” I selfishly agreed, “it can wait. I’m going to go take a shower.”
“Use mine. The hot water spigot is messed up in the guest bathroom. I haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet.”
We both stood, and I turned to go. I wasn’t more than a few steps when Nash’s hand reached for mine.
He pulled me into his chest and kissed the top of my head. “Thank you.”
His gratitude cut me like a knife.
Unbeknownst to him, he was thanking me for being a coward. I should have forced the issue, made him listen to me, but I was too grateful for the reprieve.
I stepped from his embrace, grabbed my bag from the living room, and made my way to his bedroom. I’d never been given the grand tour, but it wasn’t hard to find. I pushed open the door at the end of the hall.
The vibe in this room was different than the rest of the house. Masculine with an understated elegance. Nash’s king-size bed was neatly made, and I wondered if it felt as lush and welcoming as it looked.
As I passed by the bed, on my way to the master bathroom, I couldn’t resist the urge to touch the downy comforter. My fingertips brushed the heavenly fabric. As much as I wanted to snuggle into the pillowy softness, I couldn’t. I really needed to wash every inch of my body, especially since, up until thirty minutes ago, I had been a member of the Boob Sweat Brigade.
I turned on the water and stepped into the stall, standing with my back to the spray. Nash’s scent surrounded me as I squirted his soap into my palm and lathered it over my body. Thankfully, I had shaved this morning. I used his shampoo to wash my hair but didn’t bother with conditioner since he didn’t have any, and I hadn’t thought to grab mine.
Water cascaded over my bare skin long after the suds were gone. Thoughts swirled in my head like a fall breeze, the kind that spun leaves into the air.
Nash and I were edging closer to the precipice, in danger of free-falling into something that would save us or shatter us so completely, we’d never find our way back, and if that was the case …
We have tonight, I reminded myself.
I turned the water off and reached for one of the two towels I had grabbed. I wrapped one turban-style around my head and then sheathed my body with the other one before I stepped onto the tiles.
I unzipped my overnight bag and started to rummage inside for my pajamas.
Damn it.
I know I put them in here.
Certainly, the sleep shorts and tank would magically appear if I pulled everything out and started all over.
Shit.
That meant I was going to have to ask Nash for something to sleep in.
I slipped my whit
e lace boy shorts up my legs and opened the bathroom door, but my feet didn’t move. It was as though I were rooted in place.
That sound.
Haunting and beautiful.
One I hadn’t heard in years.
As if drawn by an unseen force, my feet began to carry me in the direction of the melody.
14
Nash
My fingers strummed over the strings as I sang the lyrics, soft and low, getting lost in the music. I had wanted nothing more than to strip and slide into the shower with Macy. Instead, I’d picked up my guitar and focused my energy into the chords of a song I had recently learned to play.
Whenever Macy and I crossed that line, there wouldn’t be any coming back. I didn’t want just tonight. I wanted tomorrow, too. And every tomorrow after that. The ball was in her court, and it didn’t matter how much I wanted to be inside her; it wasn’t my move to make.
An awareness that I was being watched came over me. I turned my head and saw Macy standing there in only a towel.
Fuck me.
The sight of her stole my breath.
My eyes raked over her. Pink cheeks and skin still wet. Hair wrapped in a towel that way women do. I needed to touch her.
I leaned the guitar between the table and the couch. Then, I moved toward her until we were nearly toe-to-toe.
A rivulet of water slowly traveled from Macy’s throat to the swell of her breasts. Like a temptress begging to be caught. My fingers itched to trace the same path.
Her eyes held a hint of surprise. “You still play.”
The sound of her voice brought my attention to her face.
“I do.”
“What song was that?”
“‘Perfect,’” I answered.
A lesser man might be embarrassed. My taste in music varied. Johnny Cash. Aerosmith. Kid Rock. The Beatles. And, apparently, Ed Sheeran. It wasn’t just the melody of the song I was playing though. The lyrics reminded me so much of Macy. Of us growing up together.
Macy’s eyes lit with laughter. Then, her mouth spread into that smile I loved so much. “Ed Sheeran, huh?”
I smirked and stood taller. “Yeah.”
“I love that song.” She picked at imaginary lint on my shirt. “Your voice … the way you sing … how you play. I forgot how much I loved it.” The wistful words fell from her lips like a confession.
This girl.
The air around us crackled. Time seemed to stand still.
A deep blush crept onto her cheeks. “I forgot my pajamas, and I thought maybe I could borrow a T-shirt.”
God, she is adorable.
“I’m afraid they’re all dirty,” I said with a straight face.
The laugh that burst out of her was better than any melody.
I wanted her so damn bad.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
Her eyes locked on my lips. The tip of her tongue licked across her bottom one. “Tell me.”
“You’re all I think about.” My hands moved to the towel covering her hair, removing it with an easy tug. Her damp strands lightly slapped against her skin. “Touching you. Kissing you.” I wrapped my arms around her. “Tasting you.”
There was so much more to it than that, but those were all words she wasn’t ready to hear.
“Nash.”
Fuck.
The way she said my name. All breathy, each letter full of so much desire and need.
It made me want to rip the towel from her body. Spread her legs, drop to my knees, and sink my tongue into her pussy.
Would she taste as sweet as I remember?
Her gaze lazily wandered from my mouth to my eyes.
“Kiss me,” she softly demanded.
I slowly swept the pad of my thumb over her jaw before lightly trailing it across her bottom lip.
“Just a kiss?” My voice was husky. “Is that all you want?”
“No,” she immediately answered.
I crooked my index finger to tilt her chin upward, and then I leaned in and brushed my mouth over hers.
Once. Twice. Teasing her.
Her hands fisted my shirt, pulling me closer. Macy’s teeth grazed my lip.
My tongue dived between her parted lips. I captured her face between my palms, taking the kiss deeper.
She moaned into my mouth, and I swallowed the sound.
Ache and need coursed through me. I was seconds away from wrapping her legs around me and taking her against the wall, but that wasn’t how I wanted this to play out.
The time for fucking would come later.
My heart hammered in my chest as I dropped my forehead to hers. When I caught my breath enough to speak, I gently demanded, “Tell me what you want, Bee.” The endearment, one I hadn’t called her in ages, slipped past my lips, surprising us both.
Macy sucked in a breath at the sound of her childhood nickname and the meaning it carried.
When we were kids, Macy had been terrified of bees. If there was one in the vicinity, she’d wrap her arms around my torso from behind, squeeze tight, and then bury her head between my shoulder blades, using me as a human shield. As we got older, I’d use her fear to my advantage. Sometimes, I’d yell, “Bee,” just so Macy would run into my arms. Even after she’d caught on … she’d still end up in my arms.
My Bee.
The thing she had once been afraid of became something else entirely. Almost sacred.
An apology.
A plea.
A white flag waved in surrender.
That was what I wanted.
For her to surrender.
To this. To us.
“Talk to me, Bee. I need to hear the words.”
We weren’t kids anymore, and she wasn’t a virgin. Macy had given me that gift when we were seventeen. Back before I had broken her. She swore she’d never forgive me. Macy was the girl I loved. The one I had never gotten over, no matter how fucking hard I’d tried.
I needed to hear her say the words.
To expose her heart.
To know that she was all in.
We stood there, seconds ticking by, breathing the same air.
Until she surrendered.
“I want you,” she whispered, tugging the hem of the cotton.
“I’m right here.”
The towel fell from her body. Her arms loosely hung at her sides, and her eyes held mine.
My girl.
She was giving me exactly what I needed.
This time, I was the one sucking in a breath.
Macy stood bare before me, except for the lacy fabric at her hips. Her nipples pebbled in the cool air.
The last bit of my self-control stretched taut, threatening to snap. But I wouldn’t rush this. I was taking my time with her.
Her creamy skin begged for my touch.
“You’re exquisite, Mace.” I leisurely drew the rough pad of my thumb halfway across her collarbone to the base of her throat and then down the valley of her perfect tits.
Goose bumps broke out over her skin.
My hand moved lower, to her navel. Across her hip, which made her squirm the tiniest bit. She was ticklish.
How could I have forgotten?
“As much as I want to fuck you right here, I want you in my bed more.” I reached for her hand and led her down the hall.
15
Macy
Through hungry eyes, I watched Nash pull his T-shirt over his head and toss it on the floor. Wetness pooled between my legs at the sight of his muscled torso. The way his abs stretched with every movement. The perfect smattering of chest hair seemed to grow darker as my eyes traveled downward. Nash slid out of his jeans and cast them aside. His cock bulged beneath his boxers, stretching the fabric so tight that I thought the stitching might give way.
I was sitting on the edge of his bed, and when Nash knelt in front of me, I saw that same hunger I felt.
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought of you here, in my bed, like this? All the ways I wan
ted to have you?”
His hand went to the back of my neck. Warm roughness in stark contrast against my cool silkiness. No words were spoken as he guided my lips to his. With his other arm snaked around me, he brought our bodies closer, pressing my breasts into his chest as he devoured my mouth.
I draped my arms over his shoulders and tangled my fingers in his hair. Stubble scraped along my jaw as his lips coasted their way down to my neck. He found that spot, the one that made me weak, and gently sucked.
My hands gripped his biceps. The moan that had been building in my throat came out like a whimper. I couldn’t get enough of him, and I wanted more.
Needed more.
“Nash.”
“Stand for me.” His voice came out all gravelly and sexy as hell.
He released his hold, and I did as he’d asked.
Nash’s hands moved to my hips; he hooked his thumbs under the sheer lace of my boy shorts and slid them down my legs. He lightly dragged his fingertips back up, leaving gooseflesh in his wake. He gripped the backs of my thighs. Lowering his head to my center, he inhaled deeply and then pressed a kiss to my bare pussy.
My hands dived into his dirty-blond hair. Need surged through me. I shifted my hips against his mouth.
His thumb ghosted over my clit, eliciting a moan from me, and I nearly lost my balance.
“Easy, Mace.” He lightly chuckled, the sound vibrating against my skin. He skimmed his hands to the front of my thighs and gently pushed, silently telling me to sit down.
I obeyed his wordless command, suddenly nervous.
This was Nash.
This was us.
God, I want him.
What happens when we wake up tomorrow?
What happens when he knows everything?
I didn’t want to think about that. Not now.
Nash noticed the change in me. “Where did you go?”
“I’m right here,” I quietly assured him.
“Open for me, baby.”
I slightly opened my legs, the cool air hitting my wet center, making me all too aware what this man did to me.
Nash put a hand behind each knee and gently tugged me forward. Then, he spread me even wider, positioning me exactly how he wanted. “You’re perfect.” The look on his face almost made me believe it.