by Harley James
It had been a glorious bath, providing some much-needed perspective on her troubles. She’d work harder on the rest of her Legal Research assignments to raise her grade by the end of the semester. And even if her contract with Nate came to the Law Department Dean’s attention, her terminology was rock-solid. She’d made sure of it. Yeah, it might raise some eyebrows, but she’d dealt with much worse.
She flexed her fingers with a soft sigh and paused at the kitchen door, silently observing Nate as he moved along the length of the island, adding spices, herbs, and cheese to a dish. There was such mystery and overwhelming masculinity to him. The broad shoulders boasted strength, as did the musculature of the forearms, and those hands. So sculptural. They could make her tremble with a single touch.
He was proud and dominant by nature. Yet, there were times when slivers of vulnerability showed through. He’d been hurt somewhere along the line, as happens in life, but it seemed like no one had been there to help him pick up the jagged pieces. She couldn’t explain why she felt that way, only that it was a look in his eyes and the way his features drew together. Like he expected to be abandoned. It was only there for a moment and then gone, replaced by his usual sophisticated swagger.
But those tiny moments of brokenness slayed her.
He turned, slipping the casserole into the oven, and saw her, his lips curving, his gaze darkening as it skidded down her body. Her belly exploded with jitters as he crossed the space between them. His parting words—by the time I’m through with your body, you won’t ever want to live without me—replaying over and over as it had throughout her bath.
His fingers slipped under the delicate robe to clasp around her waist. She brought her palms to his chest, to slow things down as much as to feel the warmth of him. “You knew I was here as soon as I walked to the edge of the room.”
He didn’t deny the accusation, only brought his mouth to hers, his grip on her hips easing her forward to ride against the delicious ridge in his slacks. Her breath snagged in her throat. Her fingers made quick work of his button-down shirt, slipping it from his beautiful shoulders. It would be so easy to let their bodies do all the talking like the last two days. No one had ever made her so wanton, but no one had ever captivated her brain so potently either.
It’s not like you have a chance with him after this week, Jess. This is just sex.
Saturday night to Saturday morning. They only had four days and a few hours left.
She closed her eyes, offering her neck to his lips. Goosebumps flashed down her arms at his Latin whispers. So. Damn. Sexy. His thumbs feathered across her sensitized nipples as he walked her backwards toward a new piece of furniture in front of the fireplace in the breakfast nook.
The back of her calves hit the red leather, forcing her to abruptly sit on the supple, curving center of the large chaise. She’d never seen another piece of furniture like it. The rolled sides were uneven heights, like a wave in motion. She looked up at his enigmatic smile as his deep melodic voice instructed his house system to dim the lights. When he began to unbuckle his belt, her pulse surged, her body growing achy and warm. “So this is what a mouse under the lion’s paw feels like.”
“I’m not so sure you’re the mouse, Angel.” His pants followed the belt to the floor. Naked, exquisitely aroused, he walked behind her, lifting her leg and rotating her body so she straddled the chaise, her back against the high, rolled side. “How do you like the tantra chair? I bought it special for us.” His fingernails traced the outline of her breasts through the gauzy material of her robe.
She shivered and licked her lips, enjoying the darkness in his eyes a little too much. “Interesting placement so close to the kitchen. Cooking brings out the kinky in you.”
He straddled the low side of the chaise, facing her, lifting her legs and spreading them over the tops of his thighs. “You whet all my appetites, Jess.”
“You feel safest here, though.” And he seemed almost obsessed with food. The menu planning and shopping for it, eating it, playing with it. “What is it about food?” Her hands grasped his cheeks, bringing his dark blue gaze to hers. “Did you not have enough to eat as a child?”
His hand paused at the belt of her robe for the briefest moment, but it was enough to tell her she’d hit a nerve. He pulled his head from her grasp and began to stand, but she wrapped her legs around his trunk to keep his ass on the seat. “Talk to me, Nate. You know almost everything there is to know about me. It’s only fair that I know a little about the man who has no trouble stripping me bare.”
He looked at the wall above her shoulder. “There’s nothing interesting in my past.”
“I don’t believe you.” She brushed her thumb across his bottom lip. “I want to know what makes you happy, what makes you angry. I want to understand how a man can be so tender and generous, yet so inflexible and manipulative in other situations. What forces shaped you? Why are you alone? What happened to the gash on your cheek that healed right before my eyes? What about the scar on your belly? Did I imagine that, or is there something more going on here? And why do you pay for sex when a million women would give anything for a night to feel as special as you make me feel every time you take me in your arms?”
He groaned and hugged her hard, pushing her cheek against his neck where his pulse raced. “Please don’t push me, Jessica.”
There was that vulnerability. She’d second-guessed what she’d seen more than once in the past two and a half days. She’d always believed there were possibilities beyond the normal realm. Then again, Grandpa had always told her stress could make you imagine things that weren’t there.
No imagining the hard length of his shaft flush against her groin, though. Or his lips and teeth at her ear. She couldn’t speak past the pounding of her heart in her throat. He eased back to untie her robe and let the folds of the material drape open. She looked down between their legs, his erection straining toward her, his broad tip shiny with his desire. His hips and torso pushed her more firmly into the cushioning at her back, his hands grasping hers, dragging them to the chair’s uppermost curve above her head, pinning them down. She shifted the angle of her hips, restless and seeking. Her eyes met his, in all their intensity and need. When he slid inside, her whole body quivered in welcome. The fullness, the heat, the absolute strength of him—driving, consuming…
Addicting.
She spread her legs wider, the carnality of his breathing, the dark promises in his eyes, loosening the last threads of her reserve. Every sense amplified. The shifting, bunching muscles of his thighs and buttocks as he ground into her mercilessly. The slick slide of their joining. Her breasts crushed against the wall of his chest. His taste as she licked the underside of his stubbled chin, salty. The orange, lime, and ocean scent of him in, around, and throughout her being.
Her fingernails scored his back as a long moan pealed from her throat.
“Bloody hell, Jessie, yes.” His legs straightened to stand, his hands going under her armpits to slide her up the chaise so her back was nearly horizontal—weightless—balancing on top of the back rest curve.
She lifted her head, her eyes drinking him in, her breasts jolting with every thrust. “Sssoo good.”
His nostrils flared, his eyes fierce as he pumped into her. “You are mine, Angel.”
Her body arced inward, her fingers reaching for the silky strands of his hair, her forehead touching his as the climax ripped through her. Vision dark, her body a tight mass of elaborate sensations that flew apart as suddenly as they contracted. His arms hooked beneath her lower back, his body curling over her, his muscles on lock-down as his own savage ecstasy chased hers. His body pulsed thick and heavy inside her, filling her, a bond she’d never regret. She turned her face toward his warm neck, the sweet serenity of their connection blasted with a cold dose of reality. “Oh God, we didn’t use protection,” she whispered, afraid to kill the moment, but more afraid of the consequences. She’d ovulated several days ago, but still…
Sc
ary for a variety of reasons.
He nuzzled her temple with his lips before lifting his head to gaze at her. The soft lights above them shadowed his eyes. He smiled forlornly and ran a hand through her hair so affectionately her heart squeezed.
“You have nothing to fear from our lovemaking, Jess.” He pulled her up, tugging her into his embrace. His lips pressed against the top of her head. “I am clean, and I can no longer produce children. I’ll make sure you never want for anything. Even after our week has passed.”
A lump crowded her throat. He couldn’t have children? And what did he mean by taking care of her after this week? “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
He used the side of his finger to bring her chin up. He didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I never make promises—period—so we’ll both just have to deal with that. Now, I’m going to feed you, and you’re going to tell me why you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders when you showed up four hours late. After that, you’re going to show me how sorry you are for keeping me waiting. And you’re going to do it,” he pointed back down at the tantra chair, “right there. Otherwise, I shall make you drop to your knees in the hallway at Mirage.” The wicked smile on his face made her restless in frankly uncivilized ways. His knuckles trailed down her left nipple. “Do you understand?”
Her legs shifted against his, her body striking up that low hum again. “Depends.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? On what?”
“How good supper is.” She spun out of his arms with a laugh, incredulous at her lightheartedness after such a shitty day. She raced around his sex chair to put the massive kitchen island between them.
He stalked her like an animal, his gaze glued to her breasts. “I shall enjoy seducing you into submission, Jessica. In fact, I think I will make your screams a pre-requisite before supper.”
She squealed as he lunged over the island, landing in front of her, pushing her into the dark walnut cabinetry, his muscular body pressing tightly against hers.
“I’ll only scream if I want to.”
The challenge in his eyes made her knees weak. He smiled as his head descended and his fingers sought her softness. “We’ll see about that, Angel.”
Chapter 14
Jessie stepped into Nate’s garage and quietly closed the door behind her. She let out a heavy breath, hopeful that she’d managed to sneak out without waking him because he was a surprisingly light sleeper.
He continued to surprise her. He was so much more than a hot piece of ass with a sense of humor, a creative mind, and a portfolio. Their conversations were stimulating. Not frivolous bullshit, but core stuff.
She’d shared her dreams of starting a scholarship for girls as well as her crusade to work with battered women. He’d not only listened, but had asked questions no one else ever had. He’d also given her some insightful business advice. The man was whip smart, well-read, and well-traveled. She could talk to him about anything and everything.
Everything, but his past.
That seemed to be the only wall remaining between them. It reinforced her speculation that he’d been hurt—no, devastated—by something. Or someone.
She should be exhausted after the last three nights with him. The man was insatiable. Yet instead of slogging through the last several days in a sleep-deprived fog, she hummed with an energy and a liquid sensuality that she’d never come close to experiencing.
The man sure as hell knew his way around a woman’s parts.
Hopefully he wouldn’t tire of her before the end of the week because that would not only be awkward, but it would also sting. Rejection never felt good. Didn’t matter if you were five years old on the playground or eighty-five with more battle scars than a gladiator.
Of course, now she could hide the hurt way better than when she was that sad girl on the see-saw.
Still. She needed some fresh air. She and Nate hadn’t been apart for more than a few hours since this arrangement began—while he was doing paperwork in his office, or she was at class or checking on Scourge. Strangest of all, it had felt normal. Even while they were at work. He never embarrassed her in front of the staff or bent her over a table like she’d originally expected him to. When no one else was watching, the molten glances he leveled her way almost had her wishing he would. The man knew how to build anticipation.
And how to deliver.
Yeah, she could love him pretty effortlessly. And she still had four days with him to fulfill her contract.
How was she going to save face when he handed her a check and they went back to their boss-employee relationship? How could it not be awkward?
She shivered in the garage that shouldn’t really be called a garage. Her soft-soled boots whispered on the smooth, gray tiles. The walls were painted crimson and dark gray with floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the northern, heavily forested side of the garage. She was glad for all the windows because she had trouble locating the switch for the dozens of recessed lights. He’d given her a garage door opener the second day she was here, though she felt stupid parking her cheap piece of shit in a room that probably cost more than her entire apartment building.
And there sat his beat up, black Chevy truck next to a cobalt blue, luxury sports car. The polarity in vehicles exemplified the twisting contrasts in the man himself. Two nights ago, he’d driven her to a five-star restaurant in the sports car. When they’d returned home, he’d promptly ushered her to the Chevy, and they’d topped off a three-hundred-dollar meal sitting on his tailgate eating Tastee Town ice cream.
One minute he was Mr. Heavy-Handed, Chest-Beating-Alpha, then next he was placating and boyishly sweet. He constantly took her off guard. And kept her interest. There were whole worlds in his head. More than once she’d caught him staring out the windows toward the woods, his expression painting a thousand different stories—all at once haunted, the next moment angry, and then morphing into that focused intensity that had made her breath catch over and over the last few days.
She shivered again as she slipped into her car and pushed the button on the garage door opener. Please stay asleep.
She was putting the car in reverse when the house door opened abruptly. Her heart spasmed to see Nate standing there illuminated by her headlights. Her body responded to his naked, inked chest, the beautiful definition of his abs, those thick veins running down his strong forearms. His black-as-night hair was mussed like he’d woken and bolted from bed.
Our bed, he’d called it after she decided to spend the whole night sleeping beside him after ice cream on the tailgate.
Jessie’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, but neither he nor she moved. His feet were bare, his loose cotton pants sitting so low on his hips she could see his pelvic obliques. She’d showered those sexy indentations with attention mere hours ago. Yet it was his face that arrested her. His lower lip, fuller than ever above the slight cleft in his chin. Black brows slashed over dark, eloquent eyes that might make her sell her soul for one more night in his arms.
Right now he looked lost.
She couldn’t have stopped herself from putting the car in park, getting out, and walking the ten feet that separated them if the whole house was in flames and falling down around them. His hungry gaze followed her every step of the way.
When she reached out to touch his shoulder, he captured her hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes closing like her touch was the antidote to whatever pained him.
“What is it?” she asked.
His eyes slowly opened. “You were going to leave.”
The little boy inside the man.
Yes, long ago, someone had abandoned him—physically or emotionally or both—leaving a wound that hadn’t healed. Her hypothesis was being reinforced the longer she spent with him. A rush of warmth spread through her, making her want to gather him in her arms and never let go.
And that was exactly why she needed to get some space.
“I didn’t want to wake you. Yo
u need sleep. If you hadn’t noticed, we were up rather late again last night.” She smiled and gave him a quick kiss hoping to ease his frown. “I left a note on the counter by the coffee pot.”
“Where are you going, and how long are you planning to be out?”
She stepped back. “You’re not my keeper, and I’m not a child, Nate.”
“Have I ever treated you like one?”
She sighed. “Other than now, no. But the night Em and Dante came over, I could swear you were trying to make me stay downstairs.”
“It didn’t work, did it?” He shook his head with what looked like disgust.
“Of course not. I have my own mind, you know.”
“Oh, I know.” He shifted closer to her. Close enough to wrap his arms around her if he wanted to.
“Do you mind?” She had to know if he respected her independence.
“Mind what?” One of his hands slid into her hair, his fingers cupping the back of her head to draw her in.
Her gaze fastened to his lips. “Mind that I mind. Er, that I have a mind.” Shit, did she? Not when he was doing this seduction thing. Oh, Lord, he was kissing the corners of her lips.
She loved that.
Stupid, stupid girl. She put her hands on his chest and locked her elbows, trying not to whimper at how good her palms felt against his warm flesh. “I have my own mind.”
“Didn’t we just go over that?”
She had no idea. Reset, Jessie. “I’m headed to the gym. After that I’m stopping at Mason’s to see Scourge, and then to my grandparents’ to take them out for breakfast.”
He held her gaze for a moment. “There’s a gym downstairs.”
“I know, but this will give me a chance to catch up with a few friends, too.” She had an insane urge to invite him to breakfast with her family, but that would be a mistake. The less she mixed Nate with her “real” life, the easier it would be after their contract was over. Besides, she had a strong feeling that her grandparents would love him.