by Sotia Lazu
*
He needed her on a physical level.
His body was tense with the effort to stay still, but he didn’t want her to feel crowded. Worse—forced.
He followed his father’s advice and came here to talk to her and try to work things out. When he saw her talking to the man who treated her like dirt last night, all thoughts of a talk vanished from his mind, and he ran after her, driven by sheer panic. He didn’t expect to kiss her—that same panic making the kiss more urgent, more demanding than before—or for her to kiss him back, this time fully aware of who he was.
And he certainly didn’t expect her to invite him in.
He wouldn’t take for granted that she meant to sleep with him. Maybe this was just a tease, to show him what he missed out on by being a ginormous butthole.
Or maybe his dreams were about to come true.
The damned button was frustrating. Watching her fumble with it, it was all he could do not to close the distance between them and rip her shirt open. He was about to snap, when it gave way, revealing the pale-pink bra that encased her breasts. He ached to release her curves from their confines. Instead, he closed his hands in tight fists. He was hard for her, but he wouldn’t mess this up.
“Eliza, what are you doing?” The part of him that insisted he’d sustained head trauma and was suffering from delusions obviously had control of his mouth.
She looked stunned by his question. Her top was undone, but she clutched its sides together. “What do you mean? You said you wanted me.” Her lower lip wobbled, insecurity plain on her expression, and Nate’s heart ached for her.
“I do. So fucking much. But what do you want?”
She scrunched her nose and took a moment to reply. “Something real, I guess. Something I can build on. No pretences and deception.”
She didn’t say she wanted him or had feelings for him, but it was good enough. He went to her. “This is real.” He framed her face with his hands and laid a gentle kiss on the tip of her adorably upturned nose. He slid his palms down her cheeks, along the lines of her neck and the curve of her shoulders, until he drove her sleeveless shirt down her arms.
He took a step back to admire her in her bra and skirt. Despite her diminutive stature, she reminded him of an Amazon—shoulders squared, chin lifted, chest heaving.
“You are beautiful.” He could tell she needed to hear it, but he wouldn’t have said it if it weren’t the absolute truth. This was real.
A red tint colored her cheeks, visible even in the grey afternoon light that filtered in through the curtains. “Liar.” But she smiled.
He shook his head. “You’re beautiful. Only a blind man wouldn’t see that.”
She reached behind her back with one hand and undid her bra. Her other arm snaked around her breasts, and her smile widened when his gaze zeroed in on what that arm covered. “Your turn,” she said.
Losing his T-shirt without tearing his gaze from her was hard, but he managed.
She flicked her tongue over her lips when his upper body was exposed, and his cock hardened more. To the point of pain. Without a word, she lowered her arms, and the bra glided down their length and fell to the floor.
He was just as silent when he closed the distance between them and fell to his knees. Not bothering to take her shoes off, he unzipped her skirt, peeled it off her hips, and let it pool on the carpet. He caressed his way up her calves, tickled the back of her knees, and massaged her thighs, before finally cupping her buttocks. He leaned forward to lay a kiss above her hipbone and reveled at the goose bumps that appeared on her flesh.
“Get up here, mister.” She let out a barely audible gasp when he grazed the same tender spot with his teeth.
Nate rose and stood before her. Her heat scorched him, though their bodies weren’t touching. “What do you want, Eliza?”
Teeth worrying her lip, she tugged at the waistband of his jeans.
Nate shook his head and grinned, pulling her flush against him. “You’ll have to elaborate on that.”
She looped her arms around his neck and climbed his body, to kiss him again.
He guessed that could count as an answer.
Holding her the way he did now, her legs folded around his hips, was something he’d often dreamed of. In fact, he was still not entirely sure he was fully awake, as he carried her to the bed she pointed him to.
He tried to be gentle, laying her on top of the covers, but she wouldn’t let go. The end result was for them to topple over in a tangle. A couple of planks gave way under their combined weight, and the mattress drooped at a weird angle.
Eliza widened her eyes at the loud crack, and Nate expected her to come out of the haze that made her treat him like he mattered. Instead, she laughed. It was the first time she’d laughed like that in his presence—the first time she was so carefree near him—and that meant more than her willingness to have sex with him. Wanting to make the glorious sound continue, he climbed down her body and blew a raspberry against her stomach.
She looked into his eyes, no longer laughing. “I want you,” she mouthed.
He couldn’t lose his boots, socks, and jeans fast enough. He tried getting rid of the latter first, but one of the pant legs got snagged on his combats, and he stumbled and almost fell again. Eliza giggled, and he swore to himself he’d give her slap-stick comedy in the morning.
After.
Chapter Sixteen
Eliza couldn’t help the weird sound between a growl and a moan that rose to her lips at the first glimpse of his naked body. He was magnificent. She’d taken a course or two in Art and thought the Greek statues depicted the perfect male body, but Nate could put any sculpture to shame.
And his cock…
For a second she wondered if it would fit inside her; she hadn’t exactly been working out that specific part of her anatomy.
He climbed back on the bed with a leer, and Eliza promised herself she’d make it fit.
He lay next to her, propped up on one elbow, and let his fingers roam the length of her body.
Her breath caught in her throat when he ran his knuckles along the side of one breast, and she arched into his hand when he ghosted the heel of his hand over one nipple, making it pebble.
His touch burned her skin, but his gaze burned her soul. “Beautiful,” he whispered and kissed the valley between her breasts. “God. I want you.”
He closed his lips around her nipple at the same time he pushed aside her soaked panties.
Eliza felt the urge to apologize for not wearing something sexier, but the way he said her name drove worry away. All she felt—all she was—was need.
Nate slid a finger inside her, and she bucked her hips. She grabbed his hair and smashed her mouth to his. His thumb barely touched her clit, and yet she was almost there.
*
Nate felt like a teenager making out with a girl for the first time. He was about to burst, and wanted to be inside her when that happened, but he needed to make it last for her. Ignoring his cock took a lot of effort, since most of his blood pumped in his groin at the moment, but he managed to keep his exploration of her pussy unhurried.
He channeled his lust into his kiss, biting her lower lip, then running his tongue along the curve of her mouth until she parted her lips for him. She tasted of fries and soda, and he swore that was his new favorite flavor.
He broke the kiss and watched her face as he pushed a second finger inside her. Her eyes were hooded, her mouth a muted O. He pumped both fingers inside her slowly, then brought them to his lips and made a show of licking them clean.
She pouted following his tongue with her gaze. “I was so close.”
“I don’t want you to come like that.”
“Then how?”
“You tell me.”
She looked at him, silent for what felt like an eternity. When Nate was sure she wouldn’t answer, she spoke. “Make love to me.” It wasn’t a demand, but a plea.
He stood, found his jeans, and fished a co
ndom out of his wallet.
“Well, well. Weren’t we prepared?” Her tone was light, but he saw through it. Her insecurities were resurfacing.
He rolled the condom on and smiled. “I was a boy scout.”
Her body seemed to close up. She crossed her arms over her breasts and avoided his gaze until he leaned over her.
“Eliza, this wasn’t there for you.”
“Yeah, ’cause that makes things so much better.”
“It wasn’t there for anyone. My dad—” He flicked his gaze to the ceiling. How the fuck to put this? Something real. He looked back at her. “Ever since he gave me the birds-and-bees talk, he’s insisted I carry protection. It’s always there. And to be honest, I think being prepared is mature and responsible.”
She held up her arms with a smile. “Your dad sounds like a wise man.”
“Oh, he is.” He draped his body over hers and gave her another kiss. “Now, where were we?”
“Right here.” She wrapped her legs around his hips and opened herself to him.
He entered her slowly, gently, both to make it good for her and because any sudden movement could have made him lose control. She held on to him, kissing his neck, pushing her hips upward while he sank inside her inch by agonizingly slow inch.
When he was fully sheathed inside her, he let out a sigh. This was the most fulfilling and yet the hardest thing he’d ever done. He’d ached to be with her for so long, he’d convinced himself it was impossible. Now that he had her, he was afraid of doing anything to make her go away. He was almost reluctant to move, but when he did, he pulled moans from her lips with every downward thrust.
*
He looked at her as if he saw right through her. There was an expectation in that look, a hope that matched hers.
Something real.
Nate found a spot inside her she never believed existed, and her body felt like it’d been hit with a bolt of lightning. She pumped her hips off the mattress faster, clawing at his back with her nails and leaving red trails behind as she tried to hang on to her control.
It appeared he was determined to make her lose that control.
He held her to him and rolled them over so she was on top. “Show me what you like. Show me how you like it.”
Eliza had no clue how she liked it, because she hadn’t liked it with someone before. Her legs were folded, framing his. Maybe she should lift them so she balanced her weight on her feet? Should she be moving up and down or back and forth? What if she messed up the rhythm and ruined it for him?
She realized she’d stopped moving when he took hold of her hips and gently guided her up and down.
When she took over, he palmed her breasts and caressed them until the tips were fully erect. Bunching those wonderful abs of his, he raised his upper body so he could encircle a nipple with his lips and flick his tongue over it.
She rode him, her mind off the trivial stuff, her body soaking up the pleasure he gave her. She loved how he said her name every time she changed her rhythm, loved how his eyes darkened as he looked into her eyes and then down her body, to where they were joined.
She was so close to something she’d never shared with a man before.
*
He couldn’t hold back any longer. His last ounce of self-control was lost when she grazed his nipple as the first throes of her orgasm bowed her spine. He cupped the apex of her thighs and pressed his thumb against her clit, driving inside her faster. Harder.
Something snapped beneath him. Another plank? How old were these beds?
Who cared? He wouldn’t stop if they rolled to the floor.
Eliza bowed and arched above him. She moaned and mewled. Pumped her hips and whipped her head from side to side in such wanton abandon, Nate didn’t care about his release. Watching her give herself to him so willingly—so completely—was enough.
Her body trembled and tensed. She arched her back and dug her heels in his thighs. Her nails raised welts into his shoulders and upper arms.
When she clenched around him, he came harder than ever before, his vision blurred by the intensity of feelings and sensations washing over him.
She collapsed on top of him. “My nose is numb.”
He chuckled and laid a kiss on her temple. Ran his fingers through her hair. “Then I did my job well.”
Her breathing slowed, as she drifted off. After a couple of efforts to move to the side without disturbing her, Nate decided to ignore that his left leg was going stiff under her, and be content with having her in his arms.
They’d talk in the morning, but there was something he needed to say to her right then. Something he was afraid she wasn’t ready to hear.
When he was sure she was asleep, he whispered, “I love you.”
Chapter Seventeen
The morning light hit her face, and Eliza tried to turn on her stomach, only to find a solid obstacle in her way. Not fully awake, she tried rolling the opposite way, but something made of steel was wrapped around her waist, not allowing for much movement.
She cracked an eyelid and looked. Nate lay on his side in her bed, his hair tussled, the sheet covering his feet and exposing the rest his naked body. His half-hard cock was pressed against her thigh, though there was nothing sexual in his embrace. He looked innocent.
He looked happy.
This time she managed to turn her body toward him and press her face against his chest. She inhaled his scent, mingled with that of sex. He was here. He was still here, holding on to her like he was afraid of losing her.
The previous night was unlike anything she’d experienced before. After a short nap, he’d woken her and made love to her again, in a way she’d believed only existed in romance novels. He worshiped her body. Made her feel wanted—special. Then he tucked her against his side and bade her goodnight, showing no sign of wanting to leave.
She didn’t expect him to still be here in the morning.
She thought the night before was a gift to her and a way for him to get her out of his system. The memory of it would tide her over for months, to be eventually stored in the same file cabinet in her mind as everything else that didn’t work out in her life.
Waking up in his arms changed that, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with it.
Should she get out of bed, get them some breakfast, and act girlfriend-y? She couldn’t do that. There were too many explanations still pending between them. No future could be based on a single night.
Yet every relationship had to begin somewhere. Was this a beginning, or a random occurrence? What did she want it to be?
She always found his attractive, even when she despised him, and the side of him she saw in the last twenty four hours was one she could fall for. But could she get over the past? Could she trust him?
Nate tightened his grip almost imperceptibly and laid a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “You up?”
She nodded and looked up at him. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Nothing better than waking up beside you.” He leaned in, but she averted her face.
“Not until I’ve brushed my teeth.” She wiggled, trying to get out of the bed, but he wrapped his legs around her and held her still.
“Kiss, then bathroom. Non-negotiable.”
She touched her lips to his. “Bathroom, then breakfast.”
He let go with a sigh, but a smile hid at the corners of his eyes.
He was still in bed when she came out of the bathroom, but it was like something had shifted between them. Gone was the playful mood. He stood with the sheet wrapped around his waist and got dressed in a hurry.
The two people who sneaked out of her dorm room seemed like strangers.
It was her fault as well as his. She’d seen his smile when she exited the bathroom and noticed how his face fell when she wouldn’t meet his gaze, but she couldn’t help herself. Once she left the bed they’d shared, the real world—the one in which he’d been on her case forever—swarmed in, driving them more apart by the second.
>
She wished he’d say something to break the awkward silence that settled in since they agreed to have breakfast outside campus.
“Is Cup o’ Cappuccino all right with you?”
“Sure.” And the awkward silence was back. They walked side by side but stayed out of each other’s personal space.
His arms swung on his sides, and she longed to lace her fingers with his.
She didn’t.
Luckily, patience wasn’t one of Nate’s virtues. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Despite his harsh phrasing, there was hurt in his voice.
Eliza flinched. “Nothing. I’m fine.” She crossed her arms and picked up her pace. “Just hungry.”
He curled one large palm around her upper arm and forced her to stop and face him. “That’s how it’s gonna be? Or are you blaming the pissy act on low blood sugar?”
Irrational anger made her raise her voice. “Going to be? This is how it always has been, Nate. We fight. We hate each other. How can it change now?”
It already had; she no longer hated him, and she was sure he didn’t hate her. The more she urged him to agree, to see there could be nothing between them, the more she hoped he’d prove her wrong. If she wasn’t so busy holding back tears of frustration, she’d be rolling her eyes at herself.
He kissed her.
It was becoming a habit with him—sealing her lips with his when talking would get them nowhere. She liked that habit. She liked how he cupped her cheek. How he clutched her shoulder. How he breathed against her lips.
She forced herself to pull back. “What is this, Nate? What do you want from me?”
*
He opened his mouth to reply, but she went on.