Chapter 30 #2
He shifts, but ultimately, he leans into my touch. “You can’t let them get to you, Nate. You can’t shut down every time someone says something ugly.”
My voice cracks with emotion, but I keep going. “I can’t feel like you’re halfway out the door every time someone looks at us wrong. I can’t handle wondering if, one day, you’ll stop choosing me.”
He relaxes into a small smile, taking my hand and planting a kiss on my palm.
“You got it all wrong, Darlin’. I won’t lie, at first, everything they were saying got to me a little.
But at the end of the day, I don’t give a damn what anybody thinks about me.
They can call me whatever the hell they want.
I know who I am, and if you ask me, I’m damn lucky. ”
He exhales hard, rubbing the back of his neck. “What gets me is when they talk about you. Pisses me off something crazy to hear them saying all that hateful shit about you, and I’m not gonna stand for it.”
“Oh,” I whisper, his protective words sinking in.
“Yeah, oh,” he teases as the air hums between us. He takes a slow step closer, close enough that I can smell the faint trace of his cologne from this morning. “Now, can I kiss you or what?”
My breath hitches. The question shouldn’t undo me like this, but after three months, it does. “Please.”
His thumb brushes under my jaw to tilt my face up to meet his lips. The kiss starts as a tentative question, but when I melt into him, my fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt, it deepens.
Months of wanting and heartache and love pouring into his mouth.
My fingers slide up into his hair, tugging. Against my mouth, he groans while the hand on my waist drifts lower, down to my ass, where he squeezes, firm and possessive. The shock of it sends a shiver straight through me, an involuntary whimper escaping my throat.
Instead of carrying on like I want him to, he pulls back instantly, concern furrowing his brows as he searches my face. “I’m sorry, Darlin’, I didn’t mean to overstep—”
“I want you,” I blurt out, before my brain can catch up with what I’m saying.
“What?” he asks, stunned, like he’s not sure he actually heard me.
Heat rushes to my face, but I repeat it anyway, because it’s the truth. “I want you. I want to be with you.”
For far too long, he stares, long enough to make me squirm with the thought that he doesn’t want the same thing. That I’m rushing after so long apart.
But then he huffs, disbelieving, and shakes his head. “Careful, Darlin’. You say things like that, and I might think you mean ’em.”
“I do,” I say, surprised by how certain I sound. “I mean it.”
The teasing smile melts away as I reach for his hand. His fingers close around mine, warm and solid as I turn toward the hallway, tugging gently. “Come on.”
He follows without hesitation.
My apartment feels impossibly quiet. Every footstep, every inhale, too loud as the reality of what I asked for sits heavy on my heart. I want it more than anything, but to get there I’ll have to—
Nate squeezes my hand as we walk into my bedroom, getting my attention. “You sure about this?”
I look back at him, and even though I’m terrified, I can’t say no. This is the man who stood by me through everything. And despite my insecurities, I’ve never been more sure about anything.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
He nods, but I don’t know if he believes me yet. “You nervous?”
“No,” I lie, and he raises a brow, knowing exactly how full of it I am.
His hands settle at my waist, big and warm. “Hey,” he says, tilting his head. “You don’t gotta pretend. We’ll take it real slow, and if you ever want to stop—”
I reach for his shirt, fisting the fabric and pulling him down to my lips before he can finish that sentence. The more I think, the more anxious I’ll be. He kisses me again, slower this time, less urgency.
When his hands move to the hem of my top, he pauses until I nod my consent.
The cotton slides over my skin, landing on the floor, and when I look up, he’s tugging his own shirt over his head. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him shirtless, but it’s the first time I’ve really looked and—
Wow, is all I can think.
He’s solid muscle, lit by the glow from my bedside lamp. Broad chest, firm stomach, freckles on his shoulders.
He’s hot.
A smirk appears on his face when he catches me staring. “Like what you see?”
“Shut up, you know you look good,” I mutter, too breathless for it to have any real bite.
He leans in, his mouth brushing my ear. “Now is that any way to talk to somebody you want to fuck you?” His hands slide around my waist, tugging me into him.
When our bare torsos meet, my nipples pressing against his heated skin, whatever comeback I had dissolves into a moan.
“That’s what I thought,” he says with a chuckle, keeping his hands firm on my waist as he starts guiding me backward until the back of my knees reach the bed.
And then it hits me. “Wait. Don’t you need to be home with Alex?”
You’re thinking about my kid brother right now?” he asks, but there’s warmth in it, gratitude. “You’re something else, Darlin’.”
I bite my lip, heat coursing through me, but the worry lingers until he explains. “Ben and the kids are staying over tonight. He’s taken care of. Been telling me to get over here and apologize since the other night. You know I wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t alright.”
Of course, I knew that. But I couldn’t stop myself from worrying after everything that’s happened. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I am definitely sure,” he proclaims, and then, finished with talking, his hands on my waist give me a firm shove.
I land on the mattress with a gasp, but I don’t get the chance to tell him not to do that again, because he’s crawling over me and capturing my lips in a kiss that steals the air from my lungs. His rough palms slide up my sides, fingers tracing my ribs.
I run my hands through his hair as his mouth trails along my jaw, the hollow of my throat, lower until I’m arching up to meet him.
He kisses across my chest, taking a nipple into his mouth, nibbling lightly before moving to the other and then down. Every touch of my torso is deliberately placed, like he wants to reach every inch of my body.
By the time he gets to the waistband of my plaid pajama pants, I’m squirming beneath him. His thumbs brush against the sliver of skin above my underwear, and I need more.
Desperately.
When he hooks his fingers into the sides and begins to slide the thin fabric down, I turn my head, unable to watch his face. I don’t want to see what happens when he notices the shape that shouldn’t be there.
Heat floods my skin, but it’s not from arousal anymore.
The warmth of his mouth on my skin is gentle at first, a brush of lips against my thigh. When he sucks, hard, an unfamiliar sensation shoots through me like a spark. “Aah!” I yelp, jerking upright. Glancing down to find an angry red mark blooming on my thigh.
“What the hell, Nate?”
“There she is,” he says with a big smile, proud of what he did.
My heart’s hammering, not even from panic anymore, but from him. Stupid, infuriating—
“You’re such an asshole.”
“Maybe, but I got you smiling, didn’t I?” I try to glare at him, but it’s useless.
I huff, as annoyed as I am turned on, and flip onto my stomach. “Just fuck me already before I change my mind.”
His hands slide over my hips, down to my ass, and I gasp when he grabs a handful, his fingers rough in the best way. When I feel a finger tip trace the thin strap of my thong, I squirm against the bed. “Nate—”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, tugging my thong out of the way. I try to stay still when he presses against my hole, and he helps by keeping a grounding hand on my back.
“Not that I’m complaining,” He starts conversationally while my ass is completely exposed. “But why’d you turn over? I ain’t fucking you for the first time with your face stuffed in the pillow. I gotta see you.”
When his hands start to pull away, I push back against him without thinking, chasing the feeling of his hands on me. He chuckles, sending a shiver straight down my spine.
“It’s better this way,” I say into the pillow, relaxing when his hand returns. “You won’t have to see—”
“Whoa, wait a second,” he cuts in, fingers digging into my skin. “There’s nothing about you I don’t want to see.”
“You don’t have to pretend, Nate. I know it’s—”
“I’m not pretending shit. Turn over.”
With his tone brokering no argument, I sigh, rolling over. He’s already there, one hand brushing the waistband of my underwear, eyebrow raised, daring me to challenge him.
But I don’t. I lie there, heat prickling my cheeks as I cover my face with my hands, too embarrassed to do anything but accept my fate.
He slides my underwear down in one smooth motion, and my stomach twists with shame and disgust when I feel the cool air from the room on it. Nate can see everything, he knows, he’s going to—
“Hey, look at me.” I open my eyes, but they automatically dart down to the part of my body I hate most. That Nate is—
“No,” he cuts through my spiral. “At me. Look at me.”
I do. Pulling my eyes up to meet his. And when I do, I don’t see any disgust there. He doesn’t look like he wants to run. He gives me a small smile.
“You’re beautiful, Iris.” I shake my head. “Let me make you feel good. You don’t gotta watch.”
“But Nate—” I manage, my voice cracking on his name as my throat feels like it’s going to close up. This was a mistake. I should have known I wouldn’t have been able to handle it.
He moves to hover over me so that his breath warms my skin, and he’s the only thing I can see. “I love you,” he says, with no hesitation, even after what he saw. “I love your body. You understand? You’re it for me, Darlin’, nothing we do is gonna change that.”
A flush spreads up to my face even as my body begins to relax. He means it, I can tell. He means every word.
He still loves me, even after seeing everything.