Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RORY
The last thing I needed around Nash were lowered inhibitions. Thanks to the two drinks I’d had, I’d practically decimated them. And now, the nearly imperceptible shred of them currently inhabiting my body was the only thing keeping my dignity intact.
Without those inhibitions? I didn’t even want to contemplate what I might do. For once in my life, I was fumbling around all this want . True, I wasn’t a virgin, but I had close to no experience with sexual tension.
While I’d fooled around with a couple boys in high school, Sean had been my first and only. When he’d asked me out freshman year of college, I’d agreed because he was pleasant enough to look at, but mostly because he was intelligent and focused on his future. He was well mannered and came from a good, upstanding family. He possessed all the traits I’d wanted in a husband.
Except there’d never been a spark. Never any kind of heat between us. Our kisses had been bland, our sex life boring at best. I’d never told another soul that—not even Sarah Beth.
I’d spent so much time wondering if that was all there was. If I was really doomed to a life that consisted solely of three minutes of weekly missionary sex and a partner who wasn’t concerned in the least about my pleasure.
But whatever this was between Nash and me was undeniable. My entire body had lit up from the inside at his kiss. The tension was so large, so forceful, so present , it was almost like an entity unto itself, filling up the space around us.
“You want me to turn this off?” he asked, making me jump.
We were both sitting on the couch, despite there being no good reason for him to still be there. Initially, I’d suggested he not drive so soon after those drinks—never mind the fact that he was two hundred pounds of solid muscle and probably wasn’t feeling even the slightest bit tingly. The way he’d looked at me when I’d told him as much suggested he’d seen through my whole facade. Instead of calling me on it, he’d settled in and turned on some godforsaken horror show.
“No, why?” I shot him a quick glance, then glued my eyes back to the book I’d been pretending to read.
“Because you haven’t turned a page in twenty minutes.”
Having no desire at all to admit to the real reason for my distraction, I huffed and gestured to the TV. “Well, it’s difficult to concentrate on my book and the poor character dealing with the death of her momma with all the eerie music and screamin’ going on.”
“Any time you want me to draw you that bath to get some peace and quiet, you just let me know.”
When he said things like that, it got my mind spinning to places it had no business going. Made me think about what it’d be like to have someone like Nash in my life, drawing baths for me, scrubbing my back…climbing right into the tub because he was so hungry to have me, he just couldn’t help himself. What would that be like? To be the object of his desire? To have him so starved for me that he couldn’t even wait long enough to dry me off before taking me rough and fast and hard?
My mouth went dry, and heat pooled between my thighs. Desperate to stop my imagination from running away any more, I said, “How about I turn on a nice home improvement show for us to watch instead of this nonsense?”
“ The Haunting of Hill House isn’t nonsense. It’s a remake of a classic, and it’s fucking awesome.” Nash proceeded to explain the plot in great detail, all the while I attempted to stifle the lust currently burning me up from the inside.
Desperate to make the feelings disappear, I sat and watched the show with him, attempting to terrify the lust right out of me. Didn’t help, even a little. With every brush of his large hand against my hair as he rested his arm on the back of the couch and every word spilling from his distractingly full lips, he stoked the embers inside me. If I weren’t careful, he’d make me burst into flames where I sat.
And heaven help me, but I desperately wanted to know what it’d be like to burn for him.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said.” He reached up, gently tugging on a loose piece of hair that had escaped my topknot.
“What I said when?”
He tipped his head behind us toward the kitchen. “The other day. Before the hottest kiss of my life.”
I snapped my eyes to his, trying to read him. Was he joking? Exaggerating? It’d been the hottest kiss of my life, too, but that wasn’t saying much. My previous partners had been fumbling at best and abysmal at worst. Kissing Nash wasn’t even in the same realm. It was like comparing a single sparkler to an entire sky lit up with fireworks.
But as much as my mind wanted to focus on that detail he’d let slip, I was too mortified over what he was referencing. When I’d spilled that horrifying truth about my life—something I hadn’t even shared with my former best friend.
So I did what I did best—avoid and redirect. “You mean about the best way to get wallpaper off? It really is a wonder how quickly?—”
“No, princess.” He leaned closer to me, his big, solid body eating up the space between us in a blink. “It was when your pretty little lips uttered the word cock.”
The word from his lips sent my stomach flip-flopping, a jolt of heat zinging straight between my thighs.
“I, um…” Words failed me. For the first time in my life, I had no idea what to say to get out of this, no idea how I could possibly spin this in my favor. “Let’s just forget I ever said that.”
Nash breathed out a laugh, the air sweeping over my lips. “Oh, babe, if you knew how much I’d thought of you saying that single word over the past two weeks, all the while remembering how good you felt pressed up against me, you’d know what a lost cause that suggestion is.”
I froze, my curiosity sidestepping my mortification for center stage. “You’ve…thought about it?”
His gaze dropped to my lips like he was recalling what they felt like against his. How I’d opened for him without hesitation. How I’d whimpered like a hussy the second his tongue had touched mine. “Every damn day.”
“Why?” I breathed.
“Because it was hot as hell. I wasn’t lying when I said that before.” He shook his head. “Besides, the thought of you left wanting…of you not being satisfied damn near kills me.”
Satisfied? I nearly snorted at that. The only time I’d been satisfied in my entire life had been thanks to my own fingers, though I’d been damn close all thanks to Nash’s talented mouth. I’d gone from fumbling boys in high school to a fumbling man in college, and not one of them had ever given my needs even the basest consideration.
“Did you mean it?” he asked, his voice thick and rough.
“What?”
With his tongue, he swiped a slow, seductive line across his bottom lip. “You know what you said, Rory.”
I did. I remembered it in great detail, because, like him, I’d replayed it over and over in my mind, constantly reliving my mortification.
I wouldn’t know anything at all about a good cock.
I lifted a shoulder. “I’m not sure what you want me to tell you.”
“The truth,” he said with complete sincerity. “I always want you to tell me the truth.”
The truth? Um, no. I’d have to take a pass on that. The truth would only paint me in a negative light— poor little Rory, too much of a prude to ask for what she needs.
I wanted to tell him that he had it all wrong. It hadn’t been like that at all. I’d had years of fabulous sex complete with more orgasms than I knew what to do with. I knew a good cock as well as the next girl.
Instead, what came out was, “He couldn’t make me come.”
Oh my word, how much vodka had been in those damn drinks? Except…I wasn’t drunk. Wasn’t even tipsy anymore and hadn’t been for more than an hour. Which meant I wanted him to know that shameful tidbit.
Nash stilled, his eyes sparking with disbelief. “He what?”
I waved my hand. “Well, I suppose it’s possible he could have…” I shrugged. “He just never tried.”