by A. M. Wilson
Who would have thought Nathan hid all that beneath his white button-down and navy medic pants? Certainly, not I. I’ve only witnessed brief glimpses of taut skin over abs and rounded biceps from time to time.
The aroma of him, woodsy and smoke, permeates the air around me from the sheets snug beneath my chin. He smells like fantasies and tequila-fueled bad decisions.
My fingertips curl around my neck as I prop myself up on my elbow. I ogle the man who screwed my brains out last night. His lats ripple along his back as he releases a stretch and turns his head toward me with a lazy grin on his face.
“Mornin’, stranger,” I grunt. My voice belongs to a sixty-year-old chain smoker, not a sexy thirty-something. Now that it’s out in the open, I roll with it.
Nathan’s expression morphs into a puckered mouth and downturned brows as he regards me.
Ah, to hell with this awkward morning after.
“What’s the matter, Nate? Don’t I look as pretty this morning as I did last night?” The sheet slips from my fingertips to expose half of my chest. Whoops.
His gaze immediately follows the movement and locks onto the puckered nipple he had his mouth all over last night. A full-body shiver envelops me from all this unhindered attention, and the puckered little traitor tightens even more under his stare.
“You’re beautiful,” he declares, clearing his throat and removing my nipple from his eye line by rolling to his back. His actions reveal he finds the ceiling prettier.
I hum noncommittally and extricate the rest of my nakedness from his gazillion sheets. Crawling lithely but, in reality, looking more like Gollum than a sexy tigress, I hover my bare torso over his with an intentional brush of my nipples against his chest. The light dusting of hair across his pecs deliciously grazes my skin.
“It was fun, lover boy, but I have things to do today. Thanks for last night.” Bending down, I plant a hasty smack on his plump lips.
Nathan jackknifes, supporting his weight on an elbow. Before I can slink away, he snakes his other hand behind my neck and deepens my quick smooch goodbye. His tongue dips into my mouth slow with long strokes, much the same way it explored other places last night. He doesn’t release me until we’re both panting.
“What’s the rush?” he murmurs, gaze flitting back down to my lips. Good lord, for a guy labeled as a “nice guy,” he sure knows what he’s doing. The need to fan the flush on my cheeks intensifies with his heated stare. I scramble from his body and stand on trembling legs beside his bed. My hangover kills in this position and begs me to return to horizontal stat.
“Uh…” My mind blanks of the many, many excuses I normally have stockpiled for situations such as this and locks onto the most logical one. “Because it’s called a one-night stand for a reason.” A sexy smile at the end softens the rejection even though I’m sure my lips resemble a dried pepper. “And I need food,” I tack on lamely.
“Kiersten.” My name stated firmly sends my stomach into a tizzy unrelated to the copious number of shots still sloshing around. “Get back in bed.”
God, shit. God.
When he says it all hot and commanding, ugh, everything below my belly button tightens as if being squeezed in a fist. I’m certain I make a face, and I’m definitely breathing deep. Contemplating his request is laughable. When have I really ever said no to sex with a hot, naked dude who isn’t a creep?
I don’t exactly have anything I need to do today. The fib slipped out readily to save us both from the awkward song and dance. We share a best friend, and we kind of work together. Those two reasons should be enough to step back and think twice about our next moves.
But if he’s willing to push all that aside for another round (or two) of mind-blowing fornication, then who am I to become a modest Puritan and say no?
“If you keep standing there naked, I’m coming over to you.” Nathan whips the covers from his waist and sits on the edge of the bed, revealing he also hasn’t regained one iota of modesty. This could be detrimental for our working relationship because I have a feeling it’ll be impossible not to picture him naked going forward.
However, that worry can wait. Patience running thin, he stands and stalks me like his prey.
Challenge accepted.
Cocking my right hip, I cup one hand over my slender waist and invite him closer by crooking my finger with the other one.
The skin around his eyes tightens, and his nostrils flare as he mutters, “Fuck.”
His powerful lunge closes the space between us, but I’m ready for him. As he grabs my waist, I lower my center of gravity, swipe my leg around one of his, and take him out at the ankle. A shriek erupts from my lips as elation takes over. He falls to his other side on the carpet, dragging me down with him, and I scramble to straddle his waist to maintain the upper hand.
Grinning down at him, I cup my unclothed crotch hovering over his hips. “If you want it, you have to get it.”
We’re a tangle of limbs, tickling fingers, and grabbing hands. The playful nature of my game rapidly declines into one of arousal and touching and tastes. Giggles yield to moans of pleasure as Nathan tries to maneuver and buck me into a different position. His wandering fingers are abrasive across my nipples, and his palms are unyielding on my hips.
He bucks beneath me, the thickness of his dick rubs through my arousal enough to awaken the nerves but not enough to enter me. I shiver and shake with his motions, holding onto my grit. I refuse to give in so easily. This little game of foreplay started with me, and I’m determined to finish it. Whichever way that happens, we’ll both come out on top.
My resolve holds until his nimble fingers dig into my hipbone and send me into a raucous fit of giggles. I can’t maintain my position through the uproarious laughter, and Nathan uses his moment of distraction to simultaneously buck and lift, sending me flying into the air.
Squeals in anticipation of the impact pierce the otherwise quiet morning. Yanking me against his solid chest, he cradles me against his pecs, folds my flailing arms in, and rolls me to my back, all before I have even a second to react. His torso slides down mine, big hands pin my elbows to my sides, and his mouth attacks the apex of my thighs.
Game. Over.
With each swipe of his tongue, I surrender. I don’t even fight back. My energy’s spent from the hangover and pretending to struggle. I turn limp. My knees fall open as though I’m in the stirrups on my gynecologist’s exam table, and unintelligible sounds fall from my lips.
“Please don’t stop,” I whine, gripping my own breast and tugging at my nipple.
His growl vibrates against my core as he witnesses the action, spurring him to plunge his tongue inside me double the tempo from seconds before.
Thrusting my hips harder against his face, I whimper and arch my back. His tongue disappears, leaving me insistent and triggering a needy cry to fall from my lips.
“Give it to me, Kiersten,” Nathan croons, replacing his tongue with two thick fingers as his mouth suctions my clit.
After only one night together, this man knows. He plays my body like a prized instrument, and within seconds, my orgasm rolls through me. Before my chest finishes heaving, he centers himself above my body and adroitly guides himself inside.
We groan together at the intrusion. Aftershocks lick my core as he stretches his way in, and I arch my neck against the hard floor. His forehead collides with the center of my sweaty chest as he thrusts deep. Our rhythm turns impatient. I don’t know if we both realize this will be the last time, but we fuck like it is.
“You feel incredible,” he grunts, clutching my right thigh and drawing it higher around him. Dragging my ass into his lap, he seats himself deep and sits back on his heels.
“Touch me,” I order, gasping when he immediately complies, his thumb going right to the spot I need him most if I have any hope of getting there a second time.
“Yes!” I prop myself on an elbow and trail my fingers up his shoulder. The hair is damp at his neck, and I grip the sweaty st
rands while swiveling my hips.
“Get there,” he orders tersely.
“Yes, sir,” I moan. The words leave my lips as everything tightens and steals the sarcasm from my tone as I come.
“God, yes.” He wildly ruts his own release and throbs deep inside me. Seconds pass where he lies motionless with his face tucked into my chest. The heaving of his back is the sole indication of life.
Should I ask him to move, or continue to bask in his warm weight and dewy-kissed skin touching mine?
Before a verdict becomes clear, he abruptly pulls back, hooks me around the back of the head, and takes me with him until I’m vertical in his lap. My choppy golden hair flies wildly behind me, and I clutch his shoulders for balance. His lips meld to mine in another searing kiss. He pulls back to deliver a sharp nip to the bottom lip before he dives back into my mouth.
Nathan wrenches away and rests his forehead against mine. “You should take your pill.”
Tension solidifies my shoulders as my heart deflates. I jerk my head back. “Uh… real sexy, Nate. I’ll get right on that.”
Inches away rests my discarded tee from the night before, and I snag it, tugging it over my head before dislodging his semi-chub from inside me. Even at half mast, he has an impressive tool in his belt.
He snags my bicep in his huge palm.
“Hey.”
The immature part of me forgets I’m thirty-seven and demands an eye roll and foot stomp, but the grown-up in me wins. I look down at his sex-mussed hair with a severe expression I hope says you better grovel, buddy rather than I have to poop.
“That sounded wrong. I’m sorry. Last night, you said you were on the pill so we didn’t use, you know, a condom.” A pinkish flush spreads along his neck. He releases me and scrubs his hand over the back of his neck, making his appealing bicep bunch. “The effectiveness relies on taking it at the same time each day. Look…” He blows out a flustered breath, continuing to shove his foot farther into his big mouth while still looking completely adorable. “We’re both obviously hungover. I just didn’t want you to go home and fall asleep and forget.”
I retain my sigh. If he weren’t so cute, I’d mince him with my words, but I have to respect a guy who’s looking out for his best interests as well as mine. We both know I’d be the mom at playdates with a thirty-ounce tumbler filled with wine.
“You’re a medic, not a doctor. I know how my birth control works and have been testing its effectiveness for a long time. But thanks for the concern, lover boy.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I wave my hand vaguely as I search the floor for my favorite red thong. “Whatever, it’s forgotten. This was fun, you know?” I tug on my bottoms and spin to him with my hands on my hips. He really is cute in that masculine clean-cut sort of way. His hair is longish, brown, and messily styled in a way that looks, well, like he does right now. As though he just rolled out of bed and ran his hands through the strands. Lines surround his eyes, most likely from hours of laughter and time spent in the sun rather than age.
“What does that mean?” He climbs unsteadily to his own naked feet. I have to tamp down the part of me that wonders if I gave him the same shaky legs he gave me.
“It means we’ve been friends for a long time, and we’re still friends. One night of really nice drunken sex doesn’t have to ruin that.”
An eyebrow arches, and he releases a menacing growl. “Nice?”
I smirk, giving his body a slow perusal. Tan skin encasing cut muscles. Delineated quads rise to glutes I could bounce a quarter off, and all that beneath a chiseled torso that would make any living, breathing, warm-blooded woman drool. I don’t care how old you are, Sister Teri from the convent would be tempted to trade in her habit for a glimpse of this man. Nathan must spend every moment between calls in the gym because I never would have expected to find that hidden beneath his uniform.
Biting my lip, I nod. “Yeah. Nice.”
“Do you need me to show you again exactly how nice I can be?” He holds his hands out to the sides, palms facing me. “Because I have all day to provide a thorough demonstration.”
My sexual motor revs up for a day at the racetrack. Vroom, vroom. Hold on Indy 500, this is not what we signed up for when we stumbled drunkenly to his house last night.
“As nice as that sounds, I do need to get going. But you can call me anytime if you want a repeat. You know where to find me.”
Nathan snorts, tugging on boxer briefs that finally put that beautiful package in its proper place, and then props his hands on trim hips. It’s unfair that men can look like that after a night of booze and sex, and I’m over here looking like a swamp witch who demands riddles to cross her bridge.
“I’m pretty sure I could track you down day or night.”
I nod eagerly before remembering this was a one-night thing, and I shouldn’t act like an enthusiastic puppy. I cover quickly by pulling my purse strap over my head and shrug. “It was a great night, and as much as I enjoyed it, this should remain a one-time thing. We wouldn’t want to ruin our friendship or our relationship with Cami.”
He gestures me out of the bedroom so I take the lead, cognizant of the trembling in my legs. The suggestion to leave belongs to me, meaning the sinking in my gut is inexplicable. I don’t expect him to tie me to his bed to keep me here, but a teensy bit of begging me to stay would have been nice.
There’s that stupid word again.
“Cami is our best friend. She’ll be beside herself when she hears about us hooking up. She’s been trying to set me up ever since she turned me down herself.” His grin is adorably shy and sends flips through my belly.
“I didn’t know you were so eager to share our sexcapades. I wasn’t planning on telling her.” Fibber. I already texted her last night when I went home with him.
“You and I both know that’s bullshit. You already told her you were with me.”
My back stiffens in wonder.
“How do you—?”
“Your number one rule is to always let someone know where you are and who you’re with. Also, she sent me a text last night and threatened to kick my ass if I acted anything less than a gentleman.”
Nathan advances until my back presses to the wall beside his front door. His head dips, lips barely a breath away from mine, and his steel forearms land against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in.
“Did I pass?” he whispers, the movement touching his mouth to mine.
“Pass?”
“The best friend test.” Half his mouth hitches in a cocky smirk, drawing my gaze from his eyes back to his lips.
Realizing my hands hang at my sides like two stupid limp noodles, I lift them to rest on that sexy muscle chiseled above his hips. It elicits another shiver from me. His brown eyes darken as if to say I felt that. Oh, what is it about this man that turns my confident self into a quivering mess?
“Y-yeah. I’d say you passed.”
“Good.”
He plants his mouth on mine, pressing me tighter against the wall, and maneuvers his thigh into the space between my legs. The slight pressure nearly has me coming out of my skin as I discourage myself from grinding against him. As I slide my fingers into his unruly hair to take him deeper, he pulls away.
I’m left standing with my mouth gaping, struggling for a breath as he looks down at me sexily.
“Do you need a ride?”
My brain misfires from the scorching kiss. “Uh, no. I got it. My car’s a block away.”
“Get home safe, then. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
Fu-crap.
I may have forgotten that we worked together while I was busy doing the horizontal tango with him for the past twelve hours. Don’t get me wrong, I’m completely okay with having sex with a friend. The problem is somewhere between shots three and four of tequila last night, I lost the piece of information that said I’d be seeing him on his shift rotation for the next five days.
Mental note to call
Cami ASAP and ask her to be a human buffer. Scratch that. I’m acting insane. This is fine. This is Nathan, of all people. He’s the kindest, least judgmental person I’ve ever met. He won’t make things weird between us, especially at work. But is it a little weird that I could describe in detail what he looks like naked, and how good he is at using his tongue…?
“Hey, you okay?”
“Yep! The hangover is hitting me. I need something to eat, and I’ll be good as new.”
Nathan rubs his right ear against his shoulder. “You want to stay for a bite to eat?” His soft voice puts me at ease.
“No, but thank you. I should go. Burrito calls and all that.”
Oh my god, why, Kiersten? I’m as suave as an elephant on stilts. I reach behind me and twist the door handle. It pops open harder than I expect, and I stumble through the doorway. “I’ll see you at work!”
His chuckle chases me out the door, and I skip down the steps. I don’t look back until I reach the sidewalk in front of his house. Nathan leans against the doorjamb in nothing but his underwear, giving a little half wave and sexy half smirk when he catches me watching. Ugh, it’s so not fair.
At least this isn’t a true walk of shame. Besides my blond hair looking like I stuck my finger in an electrical socket, the pair of shorts and tee I wore to the bar last night appear perfectly normal for a Sunday morning stroll. I could’ve been forced to walk down main street in a pair of stilettos and little black dress. Now that’d be a shot to my ego, speaking strictly from experience.
A brisk ten-minute walk later, I reach my red Honda Civic behind the bar. After swinging past the Main Street diner for the loaded breakfast burrito I couldn’t stop thinking about, I find myself back at my empty house. A sigh escapes as I flop onto my brown microfiber couch. Kicking my feet out in front of me, I prop them on my antique coffee table.
After inhaling my burrito, texting Cami and Nathan that I’m home and alive, and taking my pill that I brought out before I sat down, I roll into my soft cushion, drag the throw off the back of the couch, and promptly pass out while thinking of the glamorous life of a single thirty-something.