Hard to Resist

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Hard to Resist Page 5

by Shanora Williams


  “Are you ready?” he asks as he clutches his keys.

  “Yeah.” I nod as I tear my gaze away from his lean body. “Let me just grab my phone and my wallet.”

  “Your wallet?” His eyebrows pull together. “What do you need your wallet for?”

  “Um, to pay for my food,” I mumble with a hint of sarcasm.

  “I’ll be damned if I let you pay for anything while you’re with me. Come on,” he demands, cocking his head to the right.

  “Nolan—”

  “Natalie.” He raises an eyebrow as his smile fades. “I’m serious. Bring your pretty ass on.”

  I choke on a laugh as I stare at him with bewildered eyes. “I’m still bringing my wallet—I always do. Just in case.” I grab for it then head out the door before shutting it behind me and locking the condo up.

  “Okay,” he sighs as he follows after me to get to the elevator. “But if you try to pull it out and pay for anything, I’m burning it to pieces.”

  I press the down button belonging to elevator before I turn to face him. The doors shoot open immediately and we step in but my eyes don’t drift from his. “What is up with you? What’s wrong with me paying for myself?”

  “I asked you out on a date with me which means that I’m paying. First impressions and all.” The doors of the elevator slide shut but my gaze doesn’t tear away from his. Pressing his lips together, he forms a dazzling smirk. His smirk causes me to whip my head. That smile . . . I can’t fall for that smile. It’s enough to knock the wind right out of me. “So, I guess I’ll start with the small talk,” he says as he shifts to lean against the silver walls of the elevator. “How has your day been?”

  “Great,” I breathe.

  “Just great?”

  “Just great.”

  Just as he nods, the elevator allows us to leave. He holds a hand out, gesturing for me to step out before him. I make my way towards the glass door but before I can reach them, he stops me by the hook of my arm. “Natalie,” he says as he turns me around to face him. He pulls me against him and our bodies plunge. The heat radiates from his chest, seeping in through my thin white blouse. His scent fills my lungs, making me want to mold with him even more. “I didn’t want you to come out with me if you weren’t really up for this.” His eyes grow serious as he stares into mine. “I don’t want you to think you’re doing me a favor.”

  “I know I’m not doing you a favor,” I retort.

  “Really?” he asks rhetorically. “’Cause you’re acting like I’m dragging you out with me. If you want, we can turn right around. I can let you go back up to your condo and we can forget all about this whole thing. You won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

  I shake my head, feeling the guilt take over. “It’s not that, Nolan. You don’t understand how hard this is for me.”

  “I can’t understand if you don’t tell me what’s really going on with you.”

  I groan. I can’t tell him. If I start to tell him, I’ll never stop. That’ll be enough to make him run away and forget about me.

  “How about this?” he says. “You take this night seriously and I’ll help you forget about whatever it is that is bothering you. Honestly, you won’t be able to have fun if you’re stuck on something that’s irrelevant. I want to have fun tonight—as friends. Like you asked.”

  He places a hand on top of my shoulder and squeezes it lightly. I stare into his grey eyes that are now begging. Ugh. Why is he so damn beautiful? I have no choice but to say yes.

  “Okay. I’m sorry,” I mutter as I pull away from him. He can be as friendly as he wants but I refuse for it to get any deeper than this. I force a smile as I turn to push out of the glass doors. A deep chuckle comes from the heart of his throat as he follows me out. I can give a guess at why he’s laughing. Because I’m a brokenhearted broad that doesn’t know what to do with herself.

  Chapter Eight

  With every push, with every stroke, I was suffocated with desire. He kept going harder, faster, way too quickly for me to keep up. I was worn out but I was enjoying it. I ran my fingers across the beads of sweat on his chest with one hand while the other was braided through the locks of his hair. He kept grunting. I loved when he groaned while staring into my eyes. He was beautiful in so many ways possible. His green eyes glistened from the wide window that was above his bed. “I love you,” Bryson murmured huskily before leaning down to place his lips against my ear. His tongue began to play with the lobe of my ear, tickling its way down to my neck. From that moment on, I knew that I was his forever.

  He kept plunging into me while keeping my hands locked above my head. The heat of his lips was still hovering above mine but he didn’t stop . . . and I knew that he wasn’t going to for another few moments. It was beyond late and the night was still but our moans, groans, and the slightly creaking bed filled the silence. I loved the noise we’d created. It was harmonious. I asked him if he wanted to play music but he refused. He said that the only thing that he wanted to hear was the pleasure of my moans.

  That was my first time, but that first time is one that I will never forget. There was just something about it—something that was telling me that he actually did love me. But how did it all change? Why would he flip on me like that? It’s crazy how I thought that we were actually going to last. I never thought that anything would get between us. But apparently, I had it all wrong.

  “You’re awfully quiet.” I turn quickly to look at Nolan who already has his grey eyes on me. I was so out of it that I didn’t even realize that the car had stopped. We’re now sitting in the parking lot of a familiar restaurant that I can’t name just yet. My head whips to look at Nolan but there is something blocking me from seeing him. A warm wetness prickles at the rims of my eyes and now I realize what’s blurring my vision. My tears. “Hey,” he breathes, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for me quickly. I keep my eyes away from his and decide to stare at my lap instead. I bat my eyelashes a few times, forcing myself to fan away the tears. I cannot cry in front of him. He’ll definitely think that I’m crazy. After a few moments, the tightness in my throat ceases and my vision is no longer blurred.

  “I’m fine,” I murmur before looking up to meet his eyes slowly.

  His remain confused. He looks me over for another few seconds before letting out a sigh. “Is it me?” he asks.

  “No!” I shake my head as the abruptness in my voice catches us both off guard. “I’m fine. I just need to eat . . . I guess.”

  “You guess?” One of his eyebrows shoot up. “Natalie, what is going on with you?”

  I shake my head, feeling the tremble threatening to take over my bottom lip. I seriously can’t hold this in anymore. But if I tell him, what will he think of me afterwards? He may regret this date and even regret meeting me. My emotions are completely fucked up right now. Nolan’s sigh cuts my train of thought off. “Look, let’s just go eat. Okay?”

  I nod but I don’t think he sees because he’s already turning to get out of the car. His door shuts behind him and I let out a deep breath of relief. Just stop thinking about him, Natalie, I tell myself. I’m telling it to myself but it’s impossible. I’ve been telling myself this for a month and at one point, it worked but that lasted for no more than a few hours. I had to start writing poems one day. Writing poems are my escape. Every emotion that I feel, every ounce of pain, heartache, and the agonizing fear that I may be alone forever is what I would scribble out. The writing picked up after Bryson and I broke up. All of the poems that I’d written about my relationship with him before (when we were happy) are now stored away in the back of my trunk. When I would read over them, I wanted to rip them to shreds and throw them away but then I thought about it and I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t come to grips with letting go. I needed something to hold on to.

  Writing the heartbreaking poems was the worst but it brought out a lot within me. I had unleashed a load of untamed emotions. I jotted them all down on paper. At times, I didn’t understand what I w
as writing but after I would re-read it over a million times, I would know what I was getting at. My poems only prove how confused I really am about all of this. Those poems are deep and writing them only makes me wallow in grief about him. I wish that he didn’t matter to me. I wish that there was no such thing as a broken heart. I never wanted to have one, which is why I worked so hard to keep our relationship going.

  It isn’t too long before Nolan swings my door open. “Are you just going to sit in here or . . .?”

  I reach for my wallet quickly before stepping out with him. He shuts my door behind me but he doesn’t bother to make his way toward the place in front of us that I now realize is Steak ‘N Shake.

  I turn to face him. “Are you not hungry?”

  “We’re not going in there until you tell me what that was about.” His face hardens as he lifts his left leg up to place the bottom of his foot against the passenger door of his red Mustang.

  “Does it really matter?” I grumble.

  “It matters completely, Natalie.”

  Ugh. Why does he have to say my name like that? Why does he have to pose like that against his car? He truly does look like he could belong in a Hollister magazine. “We should just eat.” I turn to make my way towards the restaurant but he steps around me, stopping me from taking my next step.

  “Natalie.” His hand sneaks its way up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. He studies my face with wide eyes. He scans me as he breathes softly and a small smile spreads across his lips. His head angles in a way that confuses me on whether he is satisfied or aggravated. As he stares at me, I can feel the sincerity radiating from his body. “Who has hurt you?” he murmurs, his lips extremely close and to my surprise, it isn’t uncomforting.

  “No one,” I lie.

  “I don’t believe that.” His arm then hooks around my waist. “To be honest, I’m starting not to believe anything that you say.”

  “Well,” I breathe as I find the will to pull away from him. “If you think I’m a liar, why are we on a date?”

  “Number one,” he chuckles, lifting a justified finger. “This isn’t a date. You made it very clear that a date isn’t what you wanted.” My face falls as I stare into his eyes. “And number two, I never called you a liar. Now you’re just putting words into my mouth.”

  My mouth clamps shut as his lips form a smug smile. I can’t believe this. He’s completely shut me up. That’s a first. I usually want the last word in everything . . . but I can’t now. I can’t get the last word because he’s right. I’m considering this a date but he’s not. He’s doing just what he’d said.

  “Can we just go eat?” I snap.

  Nolan stares at me for a few moments before he finally turns around. He lifts a hand, gesturing for me to walk ahead of him. I press my lips together as I step past him and make my way up the path that leads to the sidewalk. As I meet the glass door, Nolan beats me to it by rushing forward to swing it open.

  “First impressions and all,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

  I fight the urge to smile back before stepping in. There is just something about him. He’s so simple that it kills me. I suppose I could go along with this date. I have to give this a shot. I only have one life to live and I’m only going to be on one date with him. Why not make the best of it?

  As soon as I step inside, we are greeted by a young, skinny guy with shaggy brown hair. “Two?” he says. My eyebrows pull together as I stare into his eyes, confused by what he means. “Never mind.” His cheeks burn a bright scarlet. “Right this way.”

  He leads us toward a corner booth located against the wall. The fact that no one else is around the area is good because I don’t want anyone to hear me wig out on Nolan if he tries anything silly tonight. I slide against the seat of the booth and Nolan sits across from me. His masculine fragrance whiffs past my nostrils and I breathe him in. He smells so delectable.

  “Can I . . . um start you off with some drinks?” the waiter asks.

  “Is this your first day?” Nolan asks him.

  With a wary smile the young waiter reaches to rub the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah. I’m kind of nervous.”

  Nolan nods. “I see. Don’t worry. I’m not the type to cause a hassle.” Nolan’s grey eyes widen as they meet mine. “But her on the other hand . . . her outer shell may make you a bit frustrated.”

  He quirks a smooth smile but I look away quickly at our waiter whose name tag reads Michael. “Michael, I’d love a strawberry milkshake please. And don’t worry,” I say, looking from Michael to Nolan. “I’ll be as sweet as candy.”

  Michael nods quickly then looks at Nolan. “And for you?”

  “I’ll take what she’s having.” He winks. Out of habit, my eyes roll slightly.

  “Be right back,” Michael says then dashes away between the booths and tables.

  As Michael disappears, I force myself to avoid immediate eye contact with Nolan. I really just want this night to go smoothly but I can’t get too comfortable. Being comfortable with him will lead us into things that I don’t need at the moment. Nolan’s sigh causes me to look up. I aim to look into his eyes but notice that he’s already staring into mine, as if he’s been waiting this entire time for me to look his way.

  His head tilts lightly. “Are you always this down?” he asks.

  My eyebrows stitch. “I’m not down.”

  “So then why did you have tears in your eyes? I’m pretty sure they weren’t tears of joy.” My chest tightens as I look away. “Seriously, Natalie. When I asked you to take this night seriously, I meant that. I want all or nothing.”

  “I can’t give you my all, Nolan.”

  “Well, not exactly your all but something more than what you’re giving me now.”

  “What exactly am I giving you right now?”

  He chuckles softly. “Um, let’s see . . .” Placing a hand on his chin, he pretends to think. “Oh, yeah! That’s right!” His hand jerks away from his chin so his fingers can snap. “Nothing! You’re giving me nothing. No effort, no interest. Nothing. What changed from the night at the club?”

  “Nothing changed. I was drunk that night. You can’t expect me to act like I’m still some drunk and horny bitch.”

  His eyes slightly widen and it isn’t too long before a smile snakes its way across his lips. “You’d be surprised how I feel when I hear you speak that way to me. I could take you out to my car right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” The spot between my thighs tightens as I stare into his bright grey eyes. His lips are still quirked up as his eyes scan the way my body has just tensed. “See,” he says. “There’s my point. You want to hold off on me, but you can’t.”

  “I can,” I counter with a shake of my head. “I can hold off on whatever I want.”

  His eyes narrow softly as he nods. “Okay, if that is true, how about you spend tomorrow with me as well—after I get off of work.”

  “What?” My curls flop as I shake my head again. “No. You said one date. This is it. After tonight there will be no more. You promised.”

  “One: I didn’t promise,” he says, matter-of-factly. “And two: it doesn’t have to be a date, Natalie. We can do what we’re doing now. Have dinner and milkshakes . . . as friends.”

  “I know that being friends isn’t what you really want. I’m not stupid,” I say in a near growl.

  “Trust me,” he sighs. “I know you’re not stupid. If you were, those panties would have been mine already.”

  My mouth gapes as heat slides from my lower belly to the center of my legs. There is a flutter in my stomach but I force myself to turn the butterflies into knots. I shut my legs and at the moment I’m very thankful that I’m sitting because my knees would have buckled by now if I were standing. “Stop doing that,” I hiss.

  “Stop doing what?” he asks, his eyebrow rising smoothly.

  “You know what you’re doing.”

  He fixes his mouth to speak again but before he can Michael steps up to the table with o
ur milkshakes. “Here you are,” Michael says. I can tell that he’s a bit more relaxed now since he knows that we aren’t a load of stuck-up and rude customers.” Have you decided on what you want to eat yet?”

  I shake my head. I’ve completely forgotten about the menus in front of me and even about eating in general because of my mini banter with Nolan.

  “This may seem inappropriate,” Nolan starts, eyeing me with his soft eyes. Oh, no. I gulp down the lump in my throat and force myself to look away. I know what he’s about to say. I can pretty much read his mind. “But Natalie looks delicious tonight. I could eat her for hours.”

  Shit. He’s done it. Instead of heat this time, the spot between the middle of my legs moistens. I feel the warmth dampening my lace panties. Visions of Nolan’s full, pink lips on my sweet spot makes my legs slightly tremble with pleasure beneath the table. Visions of him going for hours only makes me crave for him even more.

  “Um . . .” I glance up at Michael who is just as shocked as I am by Nolan’s remark. His cheeks are red again and I’m sure mine are, too. Mine are on fire. “I’ll give you two a minute,” he says then rushes away again without looking back.

  As Michael disappears into the kitchen, I try to pull myself together. I breathe in through my nostrils and although I can feel Nolan’s eyes on me, I manage to control myself. I can still feel him smiling sheepishly. He’s done this on purpose.

  “Agree to go on a real date with me tomorrow and I’ll take things slowly, otherwise I’ll show up at your doorstep every day and drag you out myself. If I have to, I’ll come in with you. I’ll do anything to get to know you—anything to know what really goes on in that head of yours.”

  A low groan rumbles from the heart of my chest. What does he want from me? I’ve already told him that I can’t give more. A date with him will only lead to more dates. Spending time with him will only lead to us trying to work things out. Although I don’t like the feeling of being single, I definitely don’t like the feeling of trying to commit to someone else so soon. I’ve learned my lesson on committing and it won’t be happening for a while. And to be honest, I don’t know anything about Nolan. I don’t know his background, what he’s been through, how he sees me. I don’t know what he wants. I feel like he wants something other than more from me. But what could be more than more?

 

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