Chapter 11
We spend the next few weeks buried in work. Nash is right by my side, pulling long hours with me. We’re making progress, and each day we get closer to trial, the energy between us is even more charged.
I should have known better than to think we could keep our hands off each other.
We’ve been careful, never letting things go too far. But the tension is there, simmering beneath every touch. Every glance.
We’ve managed to keep it mostly under control.
Mostly.
If anything, sneaking around has just made things that much more exciting. The thrill of knowing we shouldn’t be doing any of it, and that anyone could catch us.
Like the time he cornered me in the file room, the door not quite closed behind us. His hands were everywhere, his mouth hot and insistent until we heard voices approaching and had to pull apart, breathless and laughing, pretending to be organizing the mess of papers between us.
Or the time he held my gaze across the conference table, his eyes dark and promising, until I was shifting in my seat, unable to focus while he scribbled notes on a legal pad, knowing exactly what he was doing to me.
Keeping this a secret has been getting more difficult, but I’m doing my best to keep my wits about me, keep my panties on in the office, and more importantly, keep my job.
It’s late one night when he finally pushes me against my office door, his body warm against mine. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around him, my hands finding his hair, pulling him closer.
The kiss is fierce, weeks of restraint unraveling in an instant. Our breaths mingle, and I forget everything except the need to feel him.
His hands roam, and I know we should stop. I know the risks, but I can’t bring myself to care.
“This is insane,” I say, pulling away just enough to catch my breath. “We shouldn’t.”
Nash grins, playful and smug. “But you want to.” He leans in, his lips brushing my neck, and I shiver.
“God, yes. But we have to be careful,” I remind him.
He pauses, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes.
“I’ve been careful. I haven’t touched you in weeks, Avery. Not the way I want to. And it’s not enough. I need all of you. I’m losing my mind here.”
I look at him, seeing the truth of his words.
“I know. Me too,” I say gently.
“Come home with me,” he says, his voice needy. “Please.”
The word ‘please’ undoes me.
I hesitate, thinking about what this means, how much further we’re letting this go.
“As much as I’d love to feel your sweet little pussy grinding on me against this door, I need to take my time with you tonight.
I promised the next time I heard you say ‘goodnight, Nash’ would be under certain circumstances.
I’ve been a good boy. I’ve been waiting, and I intend to make good on that promise tonight. ”
And that’s it.
The last of my self-restraint gives way, and I nod.
He kisses me again, slower this time, like he’s savoring the taste of what he’s craved for weeks. He breaks the kiss, only to press his forehead to mine.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, opening my office door and pulling me toward the elevator.
Once in the elevator, with his hand in mine, I say, “My place is closer.”
The doors open, and we make a beeline for my car. I’m not sure how I’m going to survive the drive to my apartment, but the thrill of it all pushes me forward.
As soon as we reach the car, Nash pulls me in, kissing me deeply.
“Fuck, Avery. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he says, breathless.
“I think I do,” I reply, my voice just as ragged.
We climb into the car, and I drive at a speed that matches the urgency between us. Nash’s hand grips my thigh, a warm promise as the city blurs past.
The moment we park, we’re out, tumbling towards my apartment with reckless abandon.
I fumble with the key, and Nash’s mouth is on my neck, my ear, my lips, making it impossible to focus. The door finally swings open, and we stagger inside, kicking the door shut.
His hands are on me, pulling my shirt over my head, and I’m backing him towards the bedroom. We barely make it past the living room when he spins us around, pushing me against the wall with a hunger that makes my knees weak.
I tug off his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin beneath my fingers. He looks at me, the intensity in his eyes making my breath catch.
I’ve never wanted anything more than I want him right now.
“Nash,” I gasp, as he lifts me, wrapping my legs around him again, his body pressing urgently against mine.
He moves us to the couch, settling between my legs, his hands everywhere at once. He kisses me, fierce and claiming, his fingers slipping under the waistband of my skirt, teasing, undoing me.
“I’ve been thinking about this since the moment I met you,” he says, his voice thick with desire.
I arch against him, my body answering before I can. “Me too.”
He looks surprised, like he’s just now realizing I’ve wanted him as long as he’s wanted me.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he asks urgently.
I point down the hall, and he scoops me up, carrying me and not breaking the kiss, his mouth hungry on mine. I pull at his hair, needing him with a desperation I can’t contain.
He kicks the bedroom door open with his foot, and my heart is racing as he lays me on the bed, hovering above me.
I trace the lines of his face with my fingers, memorizing him like this. Shirtless, wanting, mine.
He kisses me, urgent at first, then slower, savoring. Then he stops and hangs his head.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my brows furrowed.
He sighs deeply. “I don’t have a condom. I’m sorry. I never carry them with me. I’m not enough of a presumptuous prick—”
“Nash,” I cut him off. “I’m on birth control and I’m clean. As long as you’re clean, I don’t think we need one.”
He nods his head. “I am.”
“You’re sure?” he asks, his voice laced with need and just enough hesitation to make me melt.
“Just fuck me, Nash,” I breathe, pulling him back to me.
His hands are on my hips, then sliding down my thighs, pulling at the fabric of my skirt and tights. He drags them down in one swift motion, the cool air a shock against my heated skin. He removes them and tosses them aside, his eyes on me, dark with intent.
He moves his attention back to my body, removing my bra and sliding my panties down my legs, leaving me exposed beneath him. His gaze is all-consuming, and I feel a thrill at being seen like this, wanted like this.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, as though he can’t believe I’m here with him. He slides down, kissing my stomach, my hips, before parting my legs and settling between them.
He teases me, his breath hot against my skin before his tongue flicks out and sends a shockwave through me. I cry out, my hands in his hair, pulling him closer.
He holds my hips, anchoring me to him, his mouth relentless. The pleasure builds, a dizzying climb that leaves me breathless. I gasp and arch, overwhelmed by the warmth, the way he seems to know exactly what I need.
His tongue circles my clit, sending jolts through my body. He licks again, groaning like I’m his last meal.
His fingers slide inside me, and my body shatters.
My moans echo as I come, the pleasure a tidal wave that leaves me trembling, gasping for air. He looks up at me, grinning, and I yank him up to my mouth, tasting myself on him. It’s a heady mix of satisfaction and desire, and I can’t get enough.
I fumble with his pants, desperate to feel all of him.
I push them down, and he kicks them off, pressing against me, hard and ready. He kisses me again, rolling us so I’m on top. I gasp as I feel him against me, the heat of him, the size of him.
He grips my hips, guiding me until he’s at my entrance, then pulls me down, filling me so completely I can hardly breathe.
“Fuck, Avery,” he groans, his head falling back, eyes closing as I move. His voice is raw and ragged.
Leaning over him, my hands on his chest, I feel the tension in every muscle as I ride him. He watches me through half-lidded eyes, and there’s something possessive in the way he looks at me, like he’s claiming this moment, claiming me. His fingers dig into my waist, urging me faster.
I lean back, hands bracing against his thighs, angling my hips in a way that makes us both gasp. He thrusts up to meet me, and the sensation is blinding.
I’m lost in it, lost in him, the rest of the world falling away until there’s nothing left but this. I pick up my pace, wanting to draw him over the edge with me.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his grip tightening, and I know he’s close.
I reach for him, pulling him up so our bodies are flush, our movements frenzied and desperate. He kisses me, swallowing my cries as I come again, my body tensing, shuddering, collapsing against him. He rolls us over, driving into me, his thrusts quickening.
His rhythm is wild, his breathing erratic. He circles my clit with his thumb as he continues pounding into me.
This man is going for a record. I’ve never come this many times with anyone. I tighten around him again, his name leaving my lips in a moan.
He buries his face in my neck, coming with a low, guttural sound that sends another shiver through me. He collapses against me, his weight a delicious heaviness, and I hold him, feeling the steady thump of his heart as it slows.
We lay tangled, our bodies slicked with sweat, still trying to catch our breath.
“That was…” I start.
“Incredible,” he finishes for me, lifting his head to meet my eyes with a satisfied grin.
“Yeah,” I say, trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl.
He shifts, rolling to the side and pulling me into him. His arm wraps around my waist, holding me close. Staring into his eyes, I feel the mattress dip slightly. We both raise our heads to find that Salem has joined us.
“Who is this?” Nash asks.
I let out a soft laugh. “This is Salem, my very nosey and judgmental fur baby.”
“He’s cute. I’m glad he waited until we were done to introduce himself.”
We burst into a fit of laughter and lay our heads back down as Salem gets comfortable at the foot of the bed.
We lay in silence for a while, punctuated only by Nash’s low, contented sighs.
I let my thoughts drift, tracing lazy circles on his chest, feeling his skin cooling beneath my palm.
The urge to close my eyes and drift off with him is overwhelming, but the longer we lie here, the more reality seeps back in along with all the reasons I shouldn’t let this turn into something I can’t control.
I don’t want to ruin the mood, but I also know I need to say something before we get any further.
“Nash?” I say, tracing his collarbone with my finger.
“Yeah, doll?”
I take a breath. “This can’t turn into anything,” I say plainly. “I mean, I really like this. I like you, but I can’t…I’m not looking for a boyfriend. This is already crossing so many lines.”
He laughs, soft and tired, as if he’s been waiting for this. “I can do casual,” he says, though the way he says it isn’t believable. “If that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want.” I’m trying to sound resolute, but I hear the tremor in my voice, the piece of me wishing I could mean every word.
I melt back into Nash. This feels both right and incredibly wrong all at once, but the warmth of him, the steady thrum of his heart, lulls me into a drowsy bliss.
“Goodnight, Nash,” I whisper, feeling his hold tighten around me.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “I’ve been waiting for that,” he says, his words a soft rumble against my skin. “Goodnight, Avery.”
A sleepy smile tugs at my lips as he kisses my forehead, and I drift off in his arms.