“Because it’s true,” he bit out, and here it was. The reason he never let anyone get close, spilling into the space between them, unchecked. “Don’t you get it, Nat? It’s not that I think all relationships are doomed, or that love always leaves. It’s that love always leaves me.”
“No,” she started, but he cut her off. Right now, in this moment, her hope would be too much.
“Love has left me from the beginning, and it always does, no matter how hard I’ve tried to keep it,” Jonah told her past his rattling pulse. “My mother. Every girlfriend I ever had in college and med school. Vanessa. All those tries, all those chances, and every one of them ended. I pretend it doesn’t matter. I cover it all up with a smile and a wink and a one-night stand. I never let my emotions in, and I never let myself hope for more, because I know how it always ends. So, yeah.” His voice broke, and he was helpless against the raw, sad truth that came with it. “I was a fool to think for one second that I could have a good relationship with my old man now, that the other shoe wouldn’t eventually drop and crush me like it always fucking does. I’m not built for anything that lasts.”
“No.” Natalie’s voice changed in an instant, and she sat up so swiftly that Jonah had no choice but to follow suit. “That’s not the truth, and I’m not going to let you say that it is. Yes, you’ve been hurt, and yes, you are scared. You have good reason to be. Your mother did a horrible, unforgiveable thing.”
The anger in Natalie’s voice flickered over her face, her fierceness pinning Jonah into place as she continued. “But she’s responsible for that. Not you. You are a good man. Maybe you haven’t found the right relationship, and maybe you created distance between you and your father because you were scared, but that doesn’t mean you’re not built for anything that lasts. It doesn’t mean you’re foolish to hope, or to want to be loved.”
“I am,” Jonah said, the old argument so deeply stitched into his fabric that it flew out without thought. “Those things aren’t for me, Nat.”
Natalie shook her head, adamant and strong and so, so beautiful. “Yes, they are. Do you want to know how I know that you’re made for something that lasts? Because you have me. Maybe not in the hearts-and-flowers way,” she added quickly. “But I’ve never doubted our friendship, ever. I’ve never doubted that you’d have my back whenever I needed you, and I can promise that you will never turn your head and not see me standing right here next to you.” She grabbed his hands and held on tight. “No matter what happens with your father. No matter what happens ever, Jonah. I’m here. I won’t leave you. So, yes. You are made for something that lasts. You have been for years.”
“I…” Jonah’s heart tripped, and when he opened his mouth again, the truth emerged. “Everything I’ve ever loved, I’ve lost. I’m so fucking scared to hope.”
“Then let me carry you until you’re not,” Natalie whispered.
Jonah knew in that moment that he’d been wrong. Natalie’s hope wasn’t too much. It was a beacon. A lifeline. It was everything.
And he was falling in love with her.
24
“Okay.”
Natalie had never in her life felt more relief or more emotion upon hearing one, single word. A tiny part of her told her she should stop to memorize this moment—the squeeze of Jonah’s fingers wrapped around hers, the rapid flutter of her heart beating against her nightshirt. But she already knew the moment by heart because she knew him by heart, and she reached up to cup his face between her palms.
“Okay,” she agreed.
God, her heart ached for him. All the charming smiles, all the times he closed himself off to anything other than a fling, they weren’t because he was jaded or commitment-phobic, or even just looking for a good time. They were a cover-up. Jonah had been so convinced he wasn’t meant to be loved that he hadn’t just avoided it. He was scared to even hope for it.
He’d always had her back. If he couldn’t hope yet, she’d hope enough for both of them.
“You should get some sleep,” Natalie said quietly. It wasn’t horribly late, but the day had felt endlessly stretched, like an old rubber band. Had they really been standing outside of the oncology unit after her blood draw only five hours ago? Everything felt so different now, as if something small yet pivotal had been shifted, the subtle buzz in the air before a thunderstorm.
Jonah reached up to circle his fingers around her wrists. “I don’t want to sleep.”
“You don’t.” Her breath hitched, the involuntary arousal he inspired far more often than not flaring to life beneath her skin as he slid his hands to her elbows, then her upper arms, pulling her close.
“No. If I’m going to hope, I want to do it right. I want you, Natalie.”
She stopped with her mouth just shy of his. “And if I’m going to carry you, even just for tonight, I want to do it right, too. Let me in, Jonah. Let me have you.”
He nodded, just the slightest lift and lower of his chin, but it was enough. Natalie kissed him, and that same urge she’d felt to memorize everything earlier resurfaced. But again, she didn’t have to. She knew how Jonah tasted, that the just-enough friction of his five o’clock shadow would send a sexy thrill right—yes—to her center. She knew the sound he’d make if she slid her teeth oh-so-gently over his bottom lip, kissed the hinge of his jaw, traced the shell of his ear with her tongue. Natalie’s fingers twitched with the envious desire to join in, and she didn’t deny them. She covered every inch of Jonah’s exposed skin with slow, intent touches and kisses, and when he reached down to lift his shirt over his head so she could have better access, heat gathered between her legs in anticipation. His muscles were taut, fingers flexing as if he wanted to reach for her and take the lead like always.
But he didn’t. He remained perfectly still, letting her touch his shoulders and chest and abs, and Natalie couldn’t tell what was hotter—what she was doing, or the fact that he was letting her take control so freely.
Her fingers coasted over the flat of Jonah’s chest, exploring every inch. A breath burst out of him as she grazed one nipple, and her eyes widened in surprise.
She hesitated only long enough to see the moonlight-illuminated pleasure on his face before she brushed her fingertip over him again in a slow circle.
“Yes?” Natalie asked. A pulse moved through her, something akin to pleasure, only darker. Headier.
Jonah exhaled again, leaning into her touch. “Yes.”
HER PLEASURE BECAME A CONFIDENT, powerful thrill, fueling the urge to pleasure him. She experimented, reading him carefully and waiting for, wanting, that catch in his throat—“And that,” she said, pressing harder with the pad of her thumb.
“Yes,” he grated.
Natalie didn’t stop. Pushing him back until his shoulder blades found the mattress, she straddled his hips, her hands still roaming. The shift in position brought his cock right up against her, only a few thin layers of clothing separating him from her pussy. Her muscles clenched at the contact, aching and wet, and she stole a greedy slide before returning her attention to Jonah.
“Let’s find out what else you like.” She tugged her nightshirt over her head, which left her in only a pair of hip-hugging panties, then hinged forward to press a kiss to his mouth.
She didn’t linger, though. Traveling down his body, Natalie kissed and licked, her nipples tightening at both the friction against Jonah’s skin and the soft moans falling past his lips.
“Fuck, Natalie,” he cut out as she got to his navel. She’d had to surrender her position in his lap to get there, but this? This was worth it.
She settled in beside him, pushing her knees into the mattress and one hand beside his hip. His cock pressed a hard outline against his pajama pants, and she slid her free hand over him from root to tip, pumping once, then again, before slipping her hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs.
“You’re overdressed.” Without waiting for a response, she remedied the situation, stripping off the rest of his clothes with a
few quick movements. Jonah rested a hand on her shoulder, the weight of it a warm anchor to the moment, and Natalie’s heart thrummed in her chest. Yes, she wanted to pleasure him, to use her hands and mouth to make him shake with want, then release, just as he’d done for her so many times—God, she’d wanted it from the first night they’d slept together. But she wanted something more than that, too. Jonah had trusted her with all of his truths, surrendered the control that he’d worn like armor for God only knew how long to let her in.
She didn’t just want the pleasure. She wanted him to know just how much she meant what she’d said.
She would always have him.
“Jonah, look at me,” Natalie whispered, locking eyes with him in the shadows, her fingers resting carefully on his hip. His cock jerked, maybe at her nearness, or maybe at the intensity that suddenly connected their gazes. She slid her hand up his length, even though her eyes never moved from his. “I’m here with you.” She slipped a kiss over the head of his cock, the sound of his corresponding moan vibrating all the way through her. “I have you,” she said. “I promise.”
She parted her lips over his cock, and oh, hell, they were both lost. Natalie read Jonah’s breaths, the way his fingers tightened on her shoulder when she found a motion that turned him on, or when her tongue slid over a sensitive spot as she learned her way. He was wide open with his responses, moaning encouragement at some touches and shifting his body to enhance or change others. Every sign of his pleasure set fire to her own arousal, her sex growing hot and slick as she sucked. Kissed. Licked. Jonah rocked his hips—gently, but enough to set the tempo of her motions—and she looked up at him, wanting to see the pleasure on his face.
But rather than having his head thrown back and his eyes tightly shut the way she’d expected him to, he was looking right at her. Watching every move.
Realizing she really was right there with him.
Keeping her eyes on his, Natalie began to move in faster, deeper strokes. His hand drifted up to her hair, his fingers knotting there, and oh God, she was so hot with need, she was sure she’d explode. Jonah’s eyes blazed with the same desire she felt, and when she parted her lips and took him as far as she could, he pulled her up and rolled her to her back in one fluid motion.
They didn’t speak. They didn’t have to. The brief seconds it took for her to yank off her panties and for him to get a condom in place didn’t detract from a single ounce of the intensity between them.
And then Jonah was between her legs, filling her pussy with one long thrust, and she wondered how she’d ever lived without this.
Jonah dropped his chin, staring at the spot where his cock was buried deep. His eyes didn’t move as he withdrew slightly, sliding right back home a breath later, and Natalie’s heart beat faster in realization.
“I’m here,” she said, lifting her hips, then lowering them. “I’m right here.”
He growled out a curse, clearly fighting for control. But still, she said, “It’s okay, Jonah. I have you. No matter what.”
They began to move at the same time, thrusting and retreating and thrusting again. He fucked her in long, hard strokes, their bodies slapping together, his fingers gripping her hips, and oh, how it turned Natalie on like nothing else. Jonah moved with so much intensity that it stole her breath, their connection rough and primal and utterly vital. Her orgasm crashed through her, the power of it making her cry out and let go and want more, all at once.
Jonah gave it. Angling over her, he pistoned his hips, the slight change in position altering the pressure between Natalie’s legs. Her pussy clenched, making him moan, and she wrapped her arms around him to hold him deep inside.
“I’m here,” she whispered.
On one last thrust, Jonah’s body went bowstring tight. He shuddered in the cradle of her hips, calling her name, his voice both reverent and rough. Time dropped off the clock in a way that didn’t matter, possibly a minute, possibly a hundred of them. Their breathing slowed and their bodies went lax, and eventually, Jonah parted from her to slip into the bathroom. He returned silently, climbing into bed and pulling Natalie close. She held him right back, their bodies entwined and their heartbeats pressing softly together as they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
NATALIE DRIFTED toward wakefulness in pretty much the same position in which she’d fallen asleep. The warm, perfect weight of Jonah’s bare arm over her equally bare rib cage was familiar enough for her to recognize it even in her state of near-sleep. The down coverlet, the mattress that was far firmer than Jonah’s, those were not familiar, and her brain went from confusion to catch-up as she woke more fully.
Jonah’s father. The confessions Jonah had made in the dark. The life-altering sex they’d shared afterward.
The way he was still holding her like a lifeline.
Natalie opened her eyes, wide-awake now, although she didn’t move. It was still dark, the clock on the bedside table reading an ugh-worthy 5:25, and despite the fact that he was quiet and still, Jonah’s breaths were neither deep nor drowsy.
“How long have you been awake?” she asked, and he exhaled in a sound that might’ve been a laugh under better circumstances.
“A little while.”
She nodded against the pillow. “The hospital didn’t call. That’s a really good sign.” Yeah, her optimistic side might be showing, but it was also true.
“He’s probably still asleep,” Jonah replied, and okay, that was also true.
Still… “We can get up and go now, so you can get a full update from the night-shift attending and be there when he wakes up.”
“What if”—Jonah broke off, but only for a second—“I’m scared he won’t wake up.”
Natalie’s throat tightened, but she’d promised to carry him. So she said, “I know you are, and I hope that’s a bridge you won’t have to cross. But right now, your father is alive and stable. Hearing your voice might help him come around. And no matter what happens, you don’t have to face it alone. I’m here for whatever you need. Okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, his whisper hoarse, and he pulled her closer. “I really…yeah. I’d like to go see him. I don’t want him to wake up alone.”
Natalie nodded again, this time efficiently. “Then that’s what we’ll do. Go on and take the first shower. I’ll make coffee, and we can grab breakfast later.”
“Okay.” Jonah kissed her temple before getting out of bed and heading directly for the bathroom. Natalie made a mental list of things to do as she set her feet to the floor and headed for the in-room coffeepot. Checking in with Remington Mem to make sure both her patients and Jonah’s were all status quo headlined the list, and she’d have to touch base with Tess and Charlie, too, both of whom had texted her in concern yesterday. Getting some snacks to keep handy was probably a good idea—they’d passed a little market last night, on their way from Saint Elizabeth’s. After Jonah got situated today, she could probably handle that. Oh, and she’d need to call Langston to ask him to cover a few of her shifts. Jonah was already off because of the holiday, but…
Shit. Shit, shit, shit! With how quickly everything had unfolded, Natalie had completely blanked on the fact that tonight was Christmas Eve. She eyeballed the clock, knowing that it was early as hell, but also knowing that her mother was the queen of early risers. Natalie might not get another chance to call her today, and if she were completely honest, she could really use her mother’s soothing reassurance right now.
Reaching for her cell phone, she scrolled through her contacts until her mother’s smiling face popped up, then tapped the icon.
“What’s the matter?” her mother asked, at the same time Natalie opened with, “I’m fine.”
Natalie gave up an ironic smile at how hard old habits were to kill. “I’m fine, Mom,” she repeated. “I swear.”
“Then why are you calling me at the crack of dawn on Christmas Eve?” her mother asked, her tone easing by one notch and nothing more.
“Because I’m not going to m
ake it to dinner tonight. I’m in South Carolina, with Jonah.”
She got her mother up to speed with a succinct retelling of the events of the past twelve hours. Her mom listened carefully, punctuating the story with a few sympathetic murmurs and an occasional “oh, my goodness”. When Natalie was done a few minutes later, her mother said, “Well, we’ll miss you tonight, but it goes without saying that you’re right where you should be. You and Jonah have been close for years. More like family than friends, really. Of course he needs you there with him.”
The words struck with more truth than her mother probably realized. But that closeness, and all the feelings that went with it, would have to wait for another time. Right now, Jonah’s father was the only thing that mattered. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll miss you and Daddy tonight, but I’ll make it up to you when I get back in a few days, okay?”
“Natalie,” her mother said, and yep, there it was. That comfort her mother brought like a warm blanket when things went mission critical. “You don’t ever have to make something like this up to us. Go, be with Jonah, and tell him we’ll be thinking of him and his father very much. And keep us posted, please?”
“I will, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too, sweetie. Be careful driving, okay?”
Natalie laughed softly. “Okay.”
She pressed the button to end the call, moving to the coffeepot. The coffee wasn’t good, but it wasn’t the worst Natalie had ever experienced, either (hello, she worked in a hospital). She blew into the cardboard cup, skimming her way through her texts and voicemail messages. Danika, the surgical resident, had sent Natalie progress reports on both her own patients and Jonah’s, per Natalie’s request, and she reviewed both sets for anything urgent before forwarding Jonah’s on to him. She could drive to Saint Elizabeth’s while he checked them over, just to be sure everything was okay.
A voicemail message from an unfamiliar number caught Natalie’s eye, making her brows lower. Probably a telemarketer, she thought, tapping the icon to put it on speaker while she went to her overnight bag to grab her clothes.
Better Than Me (A Remington Medical Contemporary Romance) Page 24