Nate’s fingers slid under her shirt, across her stomach.
Yes!
She wiggled her hands between them, grasped the T-shirt, and tugged it off. Nate levered up, watching her, lips parted, eyes a bit wide. She tossed the clothing off into the darkness and lay there.
She wasn’t a sexy vixen, that wasn’t her. She’d always be weird, off-beat and awkward, but Nate had never seemed to mind. She hoped he wouldn’t not.
“Cara...” He trailed his fingers down from her collar bone to the shallow valley between her breasts.
“What?” She wanted to wring the words out of him. All these sentences starting and stopping. She didn’t know what to think, if she was doing something wrong. Were her breasts too small? She didn’t really need a bra. It was more a formality. Like business cards. No one wanted business cards. So why would he be interested in her tiny boobs?
“You’re beautiful.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” One side of his mouth hitched up.
“Thank you?” Beautiful wasn’t a word she was used to. Cute, maybe, but she wasn’t a devastating beauty. Still, she wasn’t about to argue with him. Not now.
Nate leaned down, his lips caressing hers in slow, sensual passes that had her bones melting. The fingers between her breasts plucked at the center catch. She arched her back, wanting the damn thing off.
There.
The cups fell aside and the soft material of his shirt slid over her bare skin.
He cupped her breast again, and this time his thumb swiped over the tight bead of her nipple.
Cara’s gasp turned into a moan. Her eyes snapped open, her vision went a little fuzzy and she arched her back.
“Fuck, Cara,” he muttered.
“Yes, please.”
Nate chuckled against her neck. He scooted down her body, leaving kisses in his wake.
What was he going to do down—oh...
Cara palmed the back of his head, her fingers sliding over the close-cropped hairs while his mouth paid homage to her breast. Who knew her nipples were this sensitive?
“Nate,” she drew his name out.
“Hm?” He glanced up from between her breasts.
She wanted him.
Now.
He crawled back up, taking her mouth. His hand slid between their bodies and he cupped her mound. She could feel the heat of him through the thin material of her skirt and panties. She whimpered and shifted, moving against his hand.
“Cara, stop, please?” He sounded almost pained.
She froze, barely daring to breathe. He dropped his head into the crook of her neck, both of them panting for breath.
“What’d I do wrong?” She hated how her voice rose in pitch, but damn it, she wanted him.
“Nothing, nothing.”
“Then why am I stopping?” She wasn’t entirely sure of what she as doing in the first place.
“You keep moving like that and I’m going to make a mess in my pants.”
“Oh. So...not a did-something-wrong-stop?”
“No.” He chuckled and kissed her neck in that magic spot that made her bones feel all liquid inside. “I should do more.”
“More?”
“I want you too bad, Cara.”
“Me, too.”
Nate pushed up, off the bed and stood at her side. She stared up at him, rather impressed with his ability to be upright at a time like this. He pulled his shirt off and let it drop to the ground.
Cara didn’t much care one way or another what he looked like. She’d fallen in love with Nate long before the kids ridiculing his bigger size drove him to work out. He’d lost the chubby cheeks and found out he liked lifting weights. She stared at the rungs of muscle working their way up to his ribs, the smooth, solid definition of strength under his clothes.
“Shortcake, you sure?” He stood frozen, his hands at his belt.
She glanced back up at his face, the lines of worry etched on his brow.
“Yes.”
He loosened his belt buckle and his pants sagged several inches. The deep slashes of muscle at his hips pointed down, to the way his jeans tented.
She swallowed, unsure of what to expect or do. Should she be doing something? She was still wearing socks, a skirt, underwear. If he was getting undressed, shouldn’t she?
Cara reached down, hooking her thumbs in the top of her socks.
“Stop.” Nate grasped her by the wrist. “I want to do that.”
“Oh. Okay.” Her stomach went all wibbly wobbly. “Do you...want me to...uh...”
“Lay there.” He bent forward and kissed her mouth.
“Are you sure?”
“Shortcake, the only thing I want you to do is grab hold of the headboard and hang on.” He rubbed his thumb over her nipple.
Cara reached blindly overhead, grasping the wooden spindles.
Nate muttered curses she didn’t take personally. She felt too...good, alive, for this to be wrong.
By the time she caught her breath again and looked for Nate, he was naked and pulling her sock down her leg. Such a strange thing to want to do, but she wasn’t going to pretend she understood male attraction.
In the dim bedroom it was hard to make out more than smooth planes of muscle and a general size of him. The vague memories of girls in college discussing penises and fitting trickled in. What if they didn’t fit? Nate was rather large, so it was logical to assume the rest of him was...big. And she was small. What if things didn’t...work?
He stripped her socks off, then ran his palms up her legs.
Should she say something?
He seemed to know what he was doing a lot better than her. And he had said to just lay back and hold on...
Nate hooked his fingers in the waistband of her skirt and tugged. The elastic stretched. He eased her skirt down her hips, catching her panties along the way. She held her breath as he stripped both off her.
Cara pressed her thighs together. The few times she’d been with a man, it’d been dark. They’d fumbled around. And that was it. Nothing like the romances she read, no quivering limbs or pleasure so potent it made her drunk. She hadn’t much liked it if she were honest with herself.
But this? With Nate? It was already different.
“Cara?” He laid his palm against her ankle.
“Y-yes?”
“You sure?”
“What?”
“About this?”
“Yes.”
“We don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
He crawled up the middle of the bed to lay next to her. He cupped her cheek and stared down at her, a slight smile curling his lips.
“I want to, too,” he whispered. “You want me to stop, just say so, okay?”
“What do I tell you if I want you to hurry up?” She was burning up from the inside out.
“That.” He grinned and leaned over her, his body covering hers.
“Wait!”
Nate froze.
“What about—um...p-protection?” She could barely take care of herself, much less a kid.
He chuckled against her cheek and tugged her hand down between them.
“You watched me put it on.” He pressed her palm against the thick erection prodding her stomach. There was a distinct difference between the feel of his...his...penis, and the rest of him. Was that what latex felt like?
“I did?”
“You did.”
“Oh. Okay, then.”
He let of her hand and she grasped the headboard again.
Nate’s hands slid over her body and between her legs without hesitation. He shifted, replacing his fingers with the blunt, smooth head of his erection.
“Easy,” he whispered.
He pressed against her and her body trembled, quivering at the intrusion.
“Damn, Cara.” He kissed her cheek, then her mouth.
She squeezed the spindles harder, then eased her grip. Some of him was inside of her, but not all of him.
&n
bsp; Nate flexed his hips and she sucked in a deep breath.
Oh—now that was different. A good different. Stretching, but not hurting.
“Cara, Cara, Cara,” he whispered over and over again. “Hold on tight.”
He pushed up and thrust, driving all of the air out of her lungs, her vision went a little fuzzy, but she was...full.
“That’s it.”
Nate rubbed his fingers over one breast, then the other. She whimpered and shifted under him, feeling that touch all over her body. She needed...something. She didn’t know what, but Nate could give it to her if he...if he...she didn’t know.
“You feel so damn good.” He pushed his hips against hers and she gasped.
They fit? That easily?
He ducked his head and kissed her, his tongue darting in and out of her mouth. She whimpered, her brain going to mush.
His hips moved, drawing apart, withdrawing from her body. She sucked down a deep breath, only for it to whoosh out as he drove back in. She felt the joining in her toes, in her finger nails. All over her body.
Nate kissed her, invading her body and soul, fitting himself into that empty part of her heart. He thrust, in and out of her, her arms jarring with each pass. She could feel something building deep within her. A tightly wound bundle of emotions, feelings, propelled forward on a tide of anticipation.
Sweat dampened their bodies. The bed squeaked. She whimpered. From time to time, Nate released her mouth long enough to mutter her name or something she couldn’t make out, and then he was kissing her again.
“Cara, are you close?” he muttered against her lips.
“I—I think so?”
“God, I want you to come.” He buried his face in the crook of her neck and thrust, the motions rougher.
“Ooh.” She tipped her chin back as he stroked a new spot. “Oh—Nate!”
She let go of the headboard with one hand, digging her nails into his shoulder as the world around her blurred and the anticipation broke. Pleasure so deep and wide swept over her, drowning her in bliss.
Nate groaned and stilled, his arms wrapped around her so tight she could barely breathe.
Her body throbbed, in a good way though, and her heart felt...too big.
“Nate—I love you.”
4.
Nate lay awake, staring at the reflection over the dresser. Most of Cara’s hair had come free from her braids. It was so pale it seemed to glow in the moonlight coming through the top of the old, arched windows.
This was bad.
And good.
Holy shit, she’d waylaid him in the best way possible. At least there at the end. He had no idea things had gotten so rough for her over the last few years. She’d hidden it well. Then again, had he bothered to really ask? All those hours spent talking about nothing at all, was that because she couldn’t tell him the truth?
He stroked her back and kissed the top of Cara’s head.
His whole life, for all of the good parts, Cara had been there. When his dad had moved them into that ratty little apartment after mom passed away, he’d thought things couldn’t get worse.
And then, there was Cara.
This strange, weird girl from next door. She smiled when everyone else frowned. She’d offered him friendship when he hadn’t deserved it.
God, could he get any more fucked up?
What was he going to tell Ellie?
His heart was always Cara’s. He’d long since accepted that, but his body...he had needs. Particular needs that Ellie understood. They were friends. With similar likes, which had easily turned into benefits.
How the hell was he going to manage this?
Cara was...fragile. She needed to be treated with care. She was practically virginal, and he... His tastes ran to the more adventurous side. She was never going to understand. And with where she was, the last thing Nate was going to ask her to do was let him tie her up.
He wasn’t truly kinky, not like the books or the movies, but he did like...having his way. Being free to explore.
Besides, tomorrow when Cara woke up, sober and in the light of day, would she still feel the same? Or had tonight been the alcohol?
If it were the product of liquor and hard times... God, he should have stopped. Taken a cold shower. Something besides... Yeah, he wasn’t that good of a guy, no matter what Cara thought of him. He was a rotten bastard.
Still, a part of him wanted to be the person she needed. Someone who could be there for her. Hold her. Help her through the tough times. The way she’d been there for him. But that was a pipe dream.
Wasn’t it?
Cara shifted in her sleep, rolling away from him. It was too warm to stay pressed up close, but he still missed the feel of her against him. Simply watching her sleep made him...happy. In a way he hadn’t been for a long time.
Guilt ate at him, deep down.
He had to do something.
Right now.
Before someone got hurt.
Nate rolled out of bed, grabbed his clothes and tip toed out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He got dressed, rolling the decision around in his mind.
This was the thing to do.
Ellie would understand.
Nate grabbed his cell phone out from the couch cushions, shoved his feet in his running shoes and let himself out of the apartment. He didn’t power on his phone until he got to the street, and then he walked a block, picking and choosing his words.
Ellie would understand?
He hoped so.
Nate hit dial and stared back toward his apartment. He could see his bedroom window from here. The light still off.
“Hey, sexy,” Ellie purred. Shit. Stuff must have gone bad, if she was calling him names. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. You free?”
“No, hey, we need to talk. You busy?” His gut churned. This was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?
“Nope.” Ellie groaned. He could imagine her stretching. The background sounds muted and silence descended on them.
“Cara’s here.” He dropped those two words, knowing they were a verbal bomb.
“What? Now?” All the air seemed to be sucked out of the atmosphere for a single moment.
“Yeah. We’re together. Or something.”
“And...you—what? Weren’t going to tell me? Christ. I knew she was coming, but I thought you’d at least give me an idea when.”
“No. I didn’t want you to...I don’t know. Get ideas.”
“Well, I have a lot of ideas now, Nate. What the hell?” Her voice kept rising, higher and higher.
“Look, I didn’t want to tell you—”
“Why not?”
“Because of everything going on with Patrick.”
“I’m over him, Nate.”
“I know, but with him and Aaron giving you hell...I just didn’t want to give you something else to...”
“To what?” She had that tone, the one that didn’t bode well for him.
“To worry about.”
“So, what? We’re done? You had your fucks and you’re over it? That’s how it is?”
Nate closed his eyes. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. Least of all, someone who’d been a great friend to him. But Ellie wasn’t Cara. He wasn’t going to love her, and he wasn’t going to feel right about being with Cara—for however long—if Ellie still thought they had benefits.
“Ellie. We talked about this, remember?”
“What? About your sad, pathetic crush? She comes to town once and you dump every one of your friends? Yeah. Awesome. Don’t call me Monday, when she leaves and you want somewhere to stick your dick.”
“Ellie—Ellie?”
Fuck, this was a disaster.
He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath.
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt either Cara or Ellie. Not coming clean to Ellie at the soonest possible second would make things worse if—and it was a big if—Cara meant what she said. Hiding his benefits with Ellie from Cara would...d
evastate her. She wouldn’t understand that the only reason he’d slept with Ellie was because he needed someone to hold, someone who wouldn’t want his heart, because it was Cara’s.
God damn it.
Nate opened his eyes, the brilliant crescent of light shining back at him like a beacon.
Cara was up.
And he wasn’t there.
He jogged back toward the apartment, following his heart.
Ellie was hurting, but when things calmed down, she’d understand. It wasn’t like they’d stop being friends, though he’d have to admit, if Cara was in his life, things would change. What mattered was that Ellie wasn’t alone anymore. She had friends now, and she’d get by without him, if it came to that.
His number one concern now had to be Cara.
Nate let himself back into the apartment. All the lights were on and he could hear the water going in the bath behind the kitchen.
Cara’s bag was gone from the sofa, leaving him with nothing to do but wait for her.
He toed off his shoes and grabbed some goldfish crackers out of the pantry.
What did he say to her? She’d mumbled something between their trips to the bathroom, and while he’d been mustering the nerve to...talk to her, she’d passed out.
It was going to be awkward.
It was Cara.
Her name was Cara-bear Awkward Shortcake Logan, after all.
But he had to try to say the right thing. Because she mattered. Because what they did next might change the course of their whole relationship.
She’d said she loved him.
He loved her.
But it wasn’t that simple.
She’d chugged Loki and that did funny things to some people’s heads.
What if...
Oh, God, what if she didn’t remember?
The bathroom door squeaked open and Cara stepped out, her bag in hand...wearing...what the hell was that?
“Are those footie pajamas?” He squinted, his contacts a little gummy from too much wear.
“Yes.” Cara glanced down at herself.
“Is that...PAC-MAN?” He took a few steps closer, fascinated and a little horrified.
“Yeah. What? It’s winter. My feet get cold.”
“It’s California. It might get into the fifties at night.”
The Adorkable Girl and the Geek (Gone Geek 5) Page 4