“One of the bigger drug companies he does a lot of research with is putting together a trial for some pretty cutting-edge stuff to treat pediatric non-Hodgkin lymphoma. He remembered that I had someone who might be a good fit for a trial, so he reached out.”
Oh, my God. Natalie realized she’d let the words slip out loud, and Jonah nodded.
“It turns out Annabelle’s not just a good fit. She’s a great fit. So I hooked him up with Hoover at lunchtime, and they compared notes via Skype.” Jonah held up a hand, likely to stave off the protest he had to know she was working up. “We didn’t want to tell you because nothing was a lock. But after they talked, Kazinski went to the doctor running the trial, and they agreed. Annabelle’s in.”
Natalie’s breath whooshed out of her in a rush. “She’s in. Like…”
“They formally accepted her and want her in Tampa as soon as possible.”
Tears sprang to Natalie’s eyes, her pulse racing so fast, her thoughts couldn’t keep up. “Oh, my God. Does Rachel know? Does Annabelle?”
“Hoover should be giving them the good news right about now. I told her I’d tell you. I know you’ve got lots of questions, so I had Kazinski email me everything. And, of course, he’ll want to confer with you at some point over the weekend, too. But for now, I figured we should celebrate.”
Natalie pressed a hand over the front of her sweater, trying—and pretty much failing—to process it all. Annabelle was accepted into a trial. One that had some serious potential to help her manage her cancer, if not guide her toward full remission.
She flung her arms around Jonah and started to laugh. He held her back and laughed, too, and the next thing Natalie knew, he’d tugged her off her feet to swing her around, both of them laughing like crazy people.
It was the best she’d felt in ages. And it was all because of Jonah.
“I thought you said no Christmas tree,” she finally said, after he’d lowered her back to the floorboards.
Funny, he still held on to her, his arms firm around the back of her rib cage, his chest pressed against hers. “I’m still not caving on those holiday rom coms. Anyway, I didn’t have time to do more than put the lights and star on it. This barely counts.”
Natalie shook her head. “This totally counts.”
“It might count a little,” Jonah conceded. “But it is Christmastime, and you’re nuts about all the decorating and holiday cheer. You’re stuck here instead of being in your own apartment, so it only seemed fair to at least have a tree.”
“I don’t feel stuck here.” Her words emerged on little more than a breath, her heart beating faster even though they were true. Here, in Jonah’s apartment, in his arms? She felt far from stuck.
She felt right.
Jonah’s pupils flared, his bright blue eyes glinting in the soft light spilling around them from the tree. “I don’t feel stuck with you here.”
His mouth hovered inches from hers, so close, Natalie could feel the heat of him. “We said we wouldn’t do this again,” she whispered, although, God, she wanted him so badly, she was practically shaking.
He held steady enough for both of them. “We did,” he agreed, cupping her chin in one hand and running his thumb over her bottom lip.
“Okay. Well, as long as we’re both on the same page…” Natalie murmured. But everything else she meant to say, from thank you to I want you, got lost when she pressed up to kiss him.
NATALIE ARCHED up at the same time Jonah lowered to meet her, their mouths crashing together in a tangle of tongues and pure, raw, want. He knew—God damn it, he fucking knew—that this was a bad idea. He hadn’t wanted the same woman more than once in over three years. He was ripping back the cover on a huge tangle of dangerous emotions, and it was getting harder and harder to hide them.
He knew, and he didn’t care.
He wanted Natalie too badly for that.
“Christ, you feel so good,” he said, placing the whisper in the silky spot behind her ear as he breathed her in.
“Just good?” came the sassy reply, and Jonah gave in to the rumble of laughter building in his throat.
“Spectacular.” He kissed her neck, sliding his tongue over the juncture where it met her collarbone until she sighed. “Incredible.” His hands slid up, splaying wide across her shoulder blades to pull her flush against him from chest to belly to hips. “Stunning.”
Jonah lifted his chin, making sure he held every ounce of her warm bronze stare before he finished with, “Beautiful. You’re so goddamned beautiful, Natalie.”
He meant to kiss her with tenderness. God knew she’d been through the emotional wringer over the last couple of days. But then her lips were right there, parting beneath his, her hot little mouth and those sexy as fuck sighs begging him for more, and his composure slipped, his own want darkening. He pressed into Natalie’s mouth, kissing her with deep strokes of his tongue, knotting his fingers in her hair and giving her everything he could muster.
But she didn’t just take it. No, Natalie took it and gave it back with equal measure. She didn’t just let him push past her lips or slide his tongue over hers to give her pleasure she clearly wanted, if that moan she’d just let out was any indication. She let him give, but then she gave right back, kissing him and finding all the things that drove him crazy—holy fuck, if she nipped at his lip again, they weren’t going to make it past the couch before he ripped off every stitch of her clothing. Natalie even discovered some new things Jonah hadn’t known would turn him on, like when she kissed him on that soft spot behind his ear, just as he’d done to her. All too soon, he was holding her tightly, kissing her hard and desperate for so much more, and he walked her backward toward the couch.
“Wait.” He hated parting from her, even for the nanosecond it took to grab the blanket he kept draped over the back of the couch. But then he saw her kiss-swollen mouth, her mussed blond hair framing her face like a wild halo, and okay, yeah, that nanosecond was suddenly so freaking worth it.
Not that he wanted to waste any time getting his hands back on her, though. Turning on his heels, Jonah scanned the softly lit room, and ah. Perfect.
He spread the blanket out beside the fireplace, just close enough to enjoy the ambiance of the pretty light and take advantage of the heat it gave off without posing a safety threat. Reaching for Natalie, he pulled her close for one slow kiss before waiting for her to toe out of her cute little ballet slipper-like shoes so he could guide her over the blanket.
They didn’t speak, but then again, they didn’t really have to. Jonah could read her with ease, the happiness in her eyes mixing in with provocative desire. She was such a perfect combination of sexy and sweet, and watching her here, in the glow of the Christmas lights, seeing the nuance of every emotion so wide-open on her face, Christ, it turned him on like nothing else. His cock ached in demand, but he pushed down on his own need by moving to fulfill hers.
“Let me see you,” he said, his breath catching when she didn’t hesitate to pull her sweater over her head and toss it aside. Today’s bra was dark green satin, and—ah, hell—her panties matched. Jonah knew because Natalie had just slid her jeans over her hips, discarding them just as she’d done with her sweater, without pause. Her bra was one of those low-cut affairs, the sort that showcased her cleavage and made him want to rip it off of her with his teeth. The top edge barely covered her nipples, and Jonah couldn’t decide if he loved it or hated it for driving him mad.
Natalie took a half-step back to look at him, a smile hooking at the edges of her mouth. “I want to see you, too.”
His defenses squalled. Of course, he knew he’d have to undress. He couldn’t fuck her fully clothed, and he so intended to fuck her. But this couldn’t be about him, and seducing her was a far cry from letting her pleasure him in exactly the manner her tone suggested she wanted to. The way that would make him invested. Emotionally connected to her. Too vulnerable.
And yet, this couldn’t be about her and not also be about him, too.
Try as he had to keep his emotions banked since the first minute he’d touched her all those weeks ago, they were there, simmering and swirling and searching for her. So Jonah did the only thing he could do.
He took off his damned clothes and let Natalie look her fill.
“You’re beautiful, too,” she whispered, skimming her fingers over his shoulders. His muscles twitched in the wake of the contact, his heart beating faster, then faster still as her touch slipped over his arms, then back up again to cover his chest, then his abs. His control redlined when Natalie got to the top of his boxer briefs, which he’d kept on even though they were doing a piss-poor job of masking his raging hard-on. But if her fingers had reached their destination, if she’d wrapped them around his cock and started to pump, or, Christ forbid, if she’d gotten her mouth on him, he wouldn’t have been able to make her stop. He’d already let her too far in as it was.
Fuck, she felt so good there.
Jonah grabbed her hand, swiftly scooping up the other to clasp both wrists between his fingers before she could protest. “I’ll show you beautiful.”
Yanking her panties down, he dropped to his knees in front of her, not pausing for so much as a sliver of a second before slanting his mouth over her pussy. A noise crossed Natalie’s lips, some combination of surprise and pleasure, and oh, it only made him want to give her more.
“Ah,” she moaned, hinging slightly forward, almost as if the sensation were too much. But Jonah didn’t scale back. He swept his tongue up, finding her clit with ease. He read her like a map that he knew by heart, easily rediscovering what he knew while exploring new places he hadn’t before. Natalie widened her stance to grant him better access, her hands landing on his shoulders, then sliding up to knot in his hair and hold him where she wanted him, and the brazen encouragement made his cock jerk even harder in demand.
Shifting forward, he quickened his movements, hyper-aware of her response. The sounds she made. The play of her muscles, the rhythm of her breath. The way she tasted on his tongue. Everything about her filled Jonah up, stamping itself into his memory and pushing him to give her what she needed.
“Oh, God.” Natalie’s breath hitched over the words. Her head tipped back, and he wrapped his arms around her hips to bring her closer. She thrust against his lips and tongue, which he was now using to work her in firm, fast strokes, until finally, she stilled on a sharp cry. He carried her through her orgasm, greedily wringing every moan and shiver and shake out of her before reaching up to lower her to the blanket. The firelight flickered over her body, illuminating some places while casting others in shadow, and Jonah stole a second—just one—to memorize the glint in her hair and the surrender of dark green satin as it cradled the perfect curve of her tits.
He’d been wrong before. Beautiful didn’t even touch this woman.
She was something else entirely.
Natalie propped herself up on her elbows, her bottom lip finding purchase between her teeth. “Come here, Jonah.”
He was moving before she’d even finished the request. Pausing only to rifle through his discarded jeans for the condom in his wallet, he closed the space between them, parting Natalie’s knees to settle himself just shy of contact. Jonah’s heart raced, his composure fracturing as he took her in. Flushed. Wet. Wanting, and when she lifted her hips in invitation, he was powerless to resist. One tug had his boxer briefs low enough to free his cock from the cotton, another seamless move had the condom in place. He thrust into Natalie in one fluid stroke, the inner muscles of her pussy gripping him so tightly that he nearly lost both his breath and his goddamned mind. Her pleasure-soaked cry did nothing to help him regain his composure. Jonah struggled to stay level, to hold back the intensity brimming brightly inside of him. But then Natalie looked up at him, wrecking every last ounce of his control with one tiny word.
“Please.”
Something snapped deep in his chest. Levering forward, Jonah gripped Natalie’s hips, pulling back by an inch only so he could find home, again and again. She arched her back, her eyes squeezed shut and her face caught up in pure pleasure as her knees fell wide, the sight turning Jonah on like nothing ever had. Sliding her forward to keep his cock fully seated inside of her, he shifted to kneeling, the change in angle allowing him a perfect view of how deeply he filled her pussy.
Natalie murmured her approval, lifting up to meet every thrust. Quickly falling into rhythm, they moved together like waves, rising up to meet each other and crash back down, only to roll upward again. Her breath caught, and yes, fuck yes, this was what he wanted. Jonah slid his thumb to her clit, pressing circles there just the way she liked, smiling darkly when her exhale collapsed on a moan that turned into his name. Her slick inner muscles grasped and released, and he didn’t think. Christ, he couldn’t think. Pushing back over her, Jonah thrust deeper, covering her body from shoulders to hips. His movements raced along with all the emotions pulsing through him, his climax rushing up so hard and fast, it caught him by surprise. For a split second, he tried to hold back, or at the very least, scale down. But Natalie looked up at him, her eyes glittering in the firelight, and holding back became as impossible as moving a mountain range.
Please, her gaze said. Let me make you feel good.
So he did.
And as he gave in to the best orgasm he’d ever had, Jonah knew he was dangerously close to a bridge he couldn’t cross. The problem was, he felt too good to care.
19
Natalie was having the best dream. Annabelle was laughing, holding her stuffed fox and running toward her. Her cheeks had a rosy glow, her hair braided elaborately over her head like a crown, and Natalie’s heart swelled. Then, Annabelle faded and Jonah was there, holding her hand and giving her a Christmas tree, laying her down in front of the fireplace and making her mindless with pleasure. He picked her up and carried her to bed, kissing her hair and stroking her back as she drifted further into the dream. The darkness around her grew blurry and soft, shapes fading into the background and gravity pulling her down. Her body was tired all of a sudden—God, she was so tired, surely she’d never be able to open her eyes. She commanded herself to wake, to move, to shout, to breathe, but her traitorous body refused to comply, too tired to do anything other than drift. A bubble of panic rose in Natalie’s chest, trapping her voice and cementing her limbs. Her body refused to cooperate, floating deeper into the darkness, her exhaustion pulling her under, holding her down, trapping her…
Natalie woke with a start. Reality returned in clips and scraps, fatigue and residual sleepiness making it a slower process than usual. The text from Jonah. Annabelle getting accepted into the trial. The Christmas tree, the mind-blowing sex that had gone with it, the way Jonah had carried her to bed afterward. All of that had been real, she realized as her heart began to stutter. Annabelle had gotten into a clinical trial. One that could very well save her life.
And Jonah had made it happen.
She sat upright, her vision tilting from the sudden movement. She recognized a beat later that she was wearing only a tank top, her panties, and Jonah’s bed sheets around her legs, and that he was sitting in a chair a few feet away. Daylight streamed through the blinds, drawing an involuntary groan from her chest.
“Oh, hey.” He looked up from the laptop he’d propped on a pillow, setting it aside a second later. “You’re up.”
Natalie winced against the daylight, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “What time is it?”
“Just shy of one.”
What the—“In the afternoon?” She blinked. They’d fallen asleep well before midnight, for God’s sake.
He nodded, completely unfazed. “Yep.”
“Jeez, Jonah! Why didn’t you wake me?” Natalie’s pulse went from zero to warp speed in less than a breath. She flung the covers off her legs, but Jonah held up a hand to stop her movements, then used said hand to tick through his responses, one by one.
“Because it’s your day off. Because you’ve worked a ridiculous number of hour
s over the past few weeks. Because you needed the sleep. Clearly.” He indicated the rumpled sheets with a charming half-smile that made her worry slip despite her panic, but only for a second.
“But Annabelle—”
“Is totally fine,” he promised. “I’ve been in contact with Hoover, Kazinski, and Rachel all morning. Of course, Kazinski still wants to confer with you, and Rachel and Annabelle said they’d very much love to talk with you when you’re ready. They’re both very excited. But as far as the logistics go, you don’t need to worry. Everything is taken care of. Really.”
Oh, God. This was really happening. It hadn’t been a dream. Annabelle really was going to Tampa for this trial.
Gratitude filled Natalie’s chest. “Thanks to you.”
Shaking his head, Jonah set his laptop aside and got up to sit in front of her on the bed. “I believe that honor goes to you. You poured every ounce of your energy into caring for that little girl. All I did was make some phone calls.”
“Phone calls that worked,” Natalie insisted, and he conceded as far as he was probably going to with a shrug.
“Guess we just make a good team.”
Memories of the night before flashed through Natalie’s mind. His mouth on her sex. His cock buried deep inside of her. The want that had burned so hotly under her skin, want that was rebuilding again, even now, and God, good team felt like the largest euphemism ever to be uttered.
They were fucking spectacular together.
Natalie’s cheeks flushed. “Guess we do.”
Jonah paused for a heartbeat, flicking a glance over the bed where they’d spent the night (again) as if he’d read her thoughts (again). “Look, I know we said sleeping together was a one-time thing, and then…”
“It wasn’t?” she supplied.
“It wasn’t,” he agreed. “And I don’t regret that. Last night was really good.” His eyes crinkled over the word, making Natalie press her lips together over her smile. “But as true as that is, nothing about what I told you a couple of weeks ago has changed. I’m not a long-haul guy. I also know you’re looking for something serious in the long run. You want the cheesecake, the two halves. The whole deal.”
Better Than Me (A Remington Medical Contemporary Romance) Page 19