by Autumn Grey
“I fucking don’t care—”
“I. Got. This.” I inhale deeply and wait until he reluctantly nods, then I spin around to face Rick. “Leave, before I call the police.”
Rick’s eyes narrow and his lips flatten. “Are you threatening me?”
“Leave,” I order, surprised at how strong my voice is.
Suddenly, he throws his head back and laughs. All I want to do is rip my ears from my head so I never have to hear that sound again. “And tell the police what? This is a free country, baby doll.”
“I could get you arrested for stalking me.”
Rick stretches his arms wide and slants his head to the side. “Go ahead. Call them.”
His eyes travel down my body slowly, then back to my face. Nate growls behind me but doesn’t make a move. In this moment, I feel this overwhelming love for him even more, for trusting me to handle this.
“You’ve changed,” Rick says, eyebrows bunched up in a displeased frown.
I tilt my chin up boldly. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
“We were good together, baby doll.” Rick’s gaze flicks to Nate, then back at me. “I want you back. You belong to me—”
Before he has a chance to finish the sentence, Nate is looming above him, left arm raised. He gets in two blows on the bastard’s face before I’m at his side, pressing my palms against his hard chest.
“Nate!” I cry out. “Stop. Please stop.”
“I’ll kill the son of a bitch.” He pushes against my hand, his body vibrating with anger.
“No, you will not,” I whisper, tears running down my face. “Nate. . . I—just stop, okay?”
“Motherfucker!” Rick screams in a muffled voice from the floor. “You’re going to pay for this!”
I ignore Rick, my entire focus on Nate as he shuts his eyes and takes deep breaths to calm down. He opens them again and meets mine, the sheer emotion shining through them making my heart clench and warm up at the same time.
“Okay?” I question.
He nods. “Okay.”
I exhale. “Okay.”
At the sound of feet shuffling on the cement floor, I turn around. Rick hobbles away with one hand clutched over his bleeding nose. He looks over his shoulder and yells, “I swear you will regret this.”
“If you come anywhere near me again, I’ll file a complaint of harassment,” I tell him, sounding braver than I feel.
Inside the elevator, I take Nate’s hand in mine and check it for injuries. The skin around his knuckles is raw and scraped, but other than that, it doesn’t look broken.
“I’m fine,” he murmurs. He winces as he rolls his right shoulder. I know he’s in pain, but he’s putting up a strong front for me. “Are you okay?”
I inhale a deep breath. Adrenaline has left my body shaking and my knees weak. I unhook the cello from my shoulders and prop it on the steel wall, then crouch down on my heels with my head down and take deep breaths. Nate follows me and slides his strong fingers around the back of my neck and pulls me to him. I go willingly, burying my face into his shoulder.
“You were amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” he whispers hoarsely against my hair.
“Why can’t he just leave me alone?” I ask no one in particular in a broken whisper. Why can’t I catch a break with that bastard?
Nate pulls back, the fingers on my neck moving up to gently grip my hair. “Something is seriously wrong with him. I could see it in his eyes. I don’t want you walking alone. Always with me or Alex or Amber. Never alone.”
I nod, wiping my wet cheeks. The scar on my lower back burns at the memory of the knife slicing through me and a sob escapes through my lips.
“I never told my sisters what he did to me. I was so embarrassed, Nate,” I say. “I mean, they knew about him but not what he did to me.”
“From what you’ve told me, it sounds like your sisters love you.”
I nod again. “And I love them so much. But. . .after growing up with a father like mine, how could I tell them I was involved with a man who abused me? Nor was already neck deep in medical bills and dealing with Josh having cancer. I just couldn’t.”
He nods in understanding. Then I notice something else working its way in his eyes. He seems torn about something as he studies me intently. His gaze fills with resolution and his jaw clenches. “I’ll kill him if he comes near you again.” He moves his face closer to mine, pressing his lips to mine in a feather-light kiss. “I fucking love you, Elon.”
I stop breathing.
My eyes widen.
The thudding in my ears intensifies.
“Nate,” I breathe.
He told me he loves me in the same breath he used to utter words about killing Rick. I’m utterly and irrevocably in love with this man. I should tell him that, like I’ve done so many times in my head. Then why the heck am I scared to say those words?
As much as I’ve yearned to hear those words from a man I totally adore, I’m not prepared to hear them right this second. It’s too good to be real, which scares me. His fingers uncurl around my hair as I straighten on my feet, my eyes darting around the small space, looking for a way out. I need air. I need to sort out everything that happened today first.
“Elon.” His voice melts me, kick-starting my breathing. “I don’t expect you to say those words back to me. I know how you feel, and that’s enough for me. I just want to let you know where I stand. I also want to let you know I’m never letting you go.” He smirks at me, his eyes turning playful. “One sweet lie, Little Wolf.”
“One sweet truth,” I correct him. “You own me. You own my universe.” I inhale a deep breath, feeling each piece falling into place.
Him.
Me.
Us.
I have no idea what happens from this point forward. I’m scared of what this means for me, school and my dreams. Nate’s job. But I’m more terrified of losing him.
A ping echoes inside the small space, and the doors slide open. I can’t move because those last words are still soaking inside my heart. His eyes locked on mine tell me his truth, calming my racing heart.
I don’t want to run anymore.
I want Nate to show me how fucking much he loves me and how much he wants to keep me, never let me go.
With my cello in one hand, I lace my fingers with Nate’s and step out of the elevator silently, my knees quivering in anticipation.
As soon as we step inside and he kicks the door to his apartment shut, he pins me to the wall next to the door while taking the cello and expertly leaning it against the wall while kissing me, consuming me.
“Show me how much you love me,” I whisper hoarsely.
His heated gaze on me sends shivers up my spine. He reaches for my hand as we walk into the living room, grabs a chair and drags it to the middle of the room. “Are you hungry? Bennett sent one of his guys to bring dinner up here while I was picking you up.”
Pulling my eyes from Nate’s smoldering dark gaze, I glance at the table, my mouth falling open when I see it laid out with various foods, all covered with huge steel bowls to keep them warm. I swallow and shake my head.
“My appetite lies elsewhere.” I drop my gaze to his crotch. Heat spears between my legs, and I rub my thighs together. He releases a sound between a growl and a groan.
“Strip and take a seat.” He points his chin to the chairs. “I’ll be right back.”
He heads to the bathroom. The sound of cabinet doors opening and closing reaches me. He walks back moments later and grabs two bottles of water from the fridge, uncaps one of them and gulps it down, chasing the painkillers he tossed in his mouth.
I quickly do as I’m told, then perch my naked behind on the cool, dark wood, squirming a little to get comfortable.
“Water?” Nate holds out the second bottle to me.
I shake my head, too anxious to see what he plans to do with me.
He eyes me slowly without a word, appreciation, lust and hunger dancing in h
is eyes. He strips his clothes off, then leaves again. I can’t stop tracking that ass, those broad shoulders. He comes back with my cello in his hands and motions for me to stand up.
Once he takes my place, he taps his thigh twice for me to sit before handing me the cello. I moan as his now hard dick snuggly wedges itself between my butt cheeks, my back flush to his front.
By now, my heart is beating a rhythm I never thought possible, a prelude of what I know will be the most mesmerizing symphony he and I have ever created.
“I never thought to ask before. Are you on the pill?” he asks, running the tip of his fingers down my spine, then his lips following the same path.
“Yes.”
“Good. I want to feel you.” His left arm circles my waist tightly and lifts me while his other hand teases my pussy with his cock. I feel the head push slightly into me, but I can’t move. He’s holding me secure, so we’re moving at his speed.
Gently, he lowers me on his cock, and I almost loose grip of the cello in my hands.
This is so good.
We groan, moan, grunt as we become one. When I’m deeply seated on him, I move my hips. His teeth on my shoulder dig into my skin as he growls.
“I’m so turned on, Nate,” I say breathlessly.
“That’s so sexy. Seeing you turned on like this and knowing it’s all me. So. Fucking. Sexy.” His tongue licks the bite marks on my shoulder. “Play for me, Little Wolf.”
Oh God. How am I supposed to concentrate while he’s circling his hips, his hands touching me, his lips leaving hot kisses on my skin?
“What should I play?” I pant, arching my back when his pelvis clenches, his dick thrusting deeper inside me.
“Whatever you want to play. Jesus, Elon. I’m inside you so deep. You feel so good.” He rasps. “Play and try not to miss a beat. I’m listening.”
And I do, slowly stumbling through the first arrangement of Debussy’s Claire De Lune, even though my concentration is mostly on how he’s playing my body.
His fingers on my hips grip harder, holding me down as his hips thrust up. Gosh, he’s driving me wild, and I feel like I’m burning from the inside out. I scream, the bow slipping from my useless fingers, and I know the next thing to crash on the floor will be the cello.
“I can’t. . .ohmygod, Nate.”
He grabs the cello by the neck and props it on the edge of the table, before bringing his hand back to my skin.
“These hands have never produced a sweeter symphony than the sounds you make when I’m touching you,” he growls breathlessly into my ear. “Mine. Every part of you belongs to me, Elon. Always. Never letting you go.”
I nod emphatically, panting. “Yes, yes. I’m yours.”
Then he shows me how much he wants me and I follow his guidance, and before long I’m gasping for air as I come. He pulls me tight into his chest, still pumping at a furious tempo as he comes, shouting my name.
He falls back on the chair, holding me close. Our sweaty bodies meshed against each other.
When I’m calm enough to speak and move, I lift my head and look over my shoulder, taking in the sated, hooded look on Nate’s face. “Holy shit. That was. . .holy shit!”
“Phenomenal?” One side of his mouth curls up.
I nod, sighing. “Thank you.”
His forehead crinkles. “For what?”
“For making me yours.”
His face lights up brighter than the lights above us. “I’m more than happy to make you mine again.”
I shake my head and laugh, shifting around to face him, my front to his front. “What happens now?” I ask, my mind pushing me back into reality.
One brow goes up as his dark eyes linger on my boobs, then climb back to my face. “Babe, I might look like Adonis and may be built like Hercules, but I kind of need to recharge.”
I blink several times at the joke before bursting out laughing.
I adore this carefree part of him.
I swat his chest and glare at him, which is totally ruined by my lips twitching. “Focus.”
He rolls his eyes and sighs. God, he looks so cute.
“I decided to follow up on some teaching offers I’d received before I joined Rushmore. Has Elizabeth spoken to you about us again?” he questions, his fingers squeezing my hip lightly.
I shake my head, my brows pinched together. “I expected her to report us to Mrs. Bowman by now. We’ve kept a low profile. Maybe she hasn’t found any proof to tie in with her suspicions.”
“Maybe. Until then, we have to be careful.”
“Okay,” I say, praying that everything works out without anyone else finding out about us.
“Okay,” he murmurs. “Time to feed my woman. Nutella bread?”
My woman.
I kiss his chest, his scruffed jaw. Breathe in his cologne and his breath while basking in his warmth. I’ve always belonged to myself. Even when Rick tried to break me, I remained who I was.
Now, I’m Nate’s. Every part of me belongs to him.
His woman.
I tuck my head into his chest and nod. “Nutella bread sounds great.”
We don’t move, though. He kisses my forehead, a satisfied sound rumbling in his chest as he settles back in the chair and just holds me like I’m something worth holding on to.
Something worth having and keeping.
I’M STANDING OUTSIDE THE FORKS restaurant where Nick works, waiting for him to come out. His morning shift should be ending in the next few minutes. According to Elon, he works part-time here on the weekends, from 7 a.m. to midday.
After the awful day she’d had with Rick stalking her to my building, all I could think of after that asshole’s visit was that I wanted to make everything okay for her. Later on after dinner, with her body curled into mine, she told me about Nick. I couldn’t bear watching her go through so much pain. I still felt jealous each time she brought up his name, but even I had to man up and stop acting like a ten-year-old. I wanted my woman happy and smiling, which is why I’m waiting outside this swanky restaurant, hoping to have a chat with Pretty Boy.
My thoughts flit back on the second I realized that Rick was Elon’s ex-boyfriend and the same fucker who almost ran me off the road. I’ve never been so consumed with fury like I was at that moment. Seeing how brave she was as she faced that son of a bitch, no matter how scared she was, made me proud. At that very second, I realized that not only had this girl gotten under my skin, she also owned my heart. My instinct to protect her rose, and I wanted to fight that monster for her, keep her safe. I saw red when that fucker opened his mouth, claiming she was his.
I haven’t gotten a visit from the cops yet for busting Rick’s nose, so I can only guess he didn’t file a complaint, which makes me nervous. I have a feeling in my gut he’s planning something. I wish I knew what it was.
I glance at my watch just to make sure I won’t be late to pick up Elon from her tutoring class at Studio 22.
The door to the restaurant opens and Pretty Boy walks out, his attention on the phone in his hand. He doesn’t see me until he’s walking past me and I call his name.
His eyes widen at first before anger replaces the shock on his face. His hands form fists as he stalks toward me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I shove my hands inside my pockets, reminding myself I’m doing this for Elon.
I nod in greeting. He doesn’t return it. Instead he glowers harder.
“Can we talk?” I ask
The anger rolling through him momentarily stalls, and his eyebrows bunch in concern. “Is she okay?”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about.”
He gets in my face, jaw clenched and veins bulging in his temple. “If you’ve done something to hurt her, so help me God—”
“I’d never hurt her.” I cut him off. He’s panting, dragging his fingers through his hair. “You need to call her and talk to her.”
He stares at the ground, a vein ticking in his jaw. “Look. She made her cho
ice, okay?” He grunts, running his hands down his face. His shoulders slump forward as he exhales. “Just leave me alone.”
He skirts around me, heading toward the white Peugeot parked a few feet away.
“Nick,” I bite out, flexing my fingers, praying to God for patience.
He spins around, coming at me with the fury of a twenty-year-old. “I’ve loved her for as long as I can remember. Then she got involved with that fucking psycho ex-boyfriend, Rick. He almost broke her. Almost. Then you roll into town, throw your professor mojo around and she chooses you over me? It should have been me.” He thumps his chest with a fist. “I loved her,” he declares in a broken whisper, tears brimming in his eyes. “God, I love her so much.”
Christ.
I feel his pain as the words he’s thrown my way cut through me. I’m such an asshole. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you like this.”
“So, what is she to you? A plaything? Someone for you to pass time with until you get tired of her?” he asks angrily, narrowing his eyes. “I should report you.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I say in a low, firm voice.
“Why not?” he shoots back.
“Because you’d be hurting her.” Despite the fact that she didn’t say she loved me, I know for a fact she does. It’s in the soft way she looks at me and the way she smiles at me, her touch, her kiss.
I see the moment the meaning behind my words hits him. His eyes widen. He looks at the floor, then back at me.
We stay locked in a staredown for several seconds before Nick averts his gaze back to his sneakers.
“I love her, Nick.” His head jerks up, his eyebrows raised.
“Yeah? So how’s that going to work out with you being her professor?” He laughs bitterly. “You’re just going to break her heart. I know it. But don’t worry, Professor. I’ll be here to pick up the pieces, just like I’ve always done.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” I shake my head and saunter forward. “I love her.”
He scrutinizes me for several seconds. Then, he looks away and swallows hard. “Fucking perfect,” he mutters under his breath. “If you ever hurt her—”