13. Cora
thirteen
cora
M y eyes flutter open, and I realize that I must’ve fallen asleep. Strong arms are wrapped around me, and panic quickly sets in, my heart racing. The sun has already set and the room is plunged into darkness. The only source of light is the moon filtering through the curtains that perfectly illuminates Nash’s peaceful sleeping face.
My shoulders relax, and I let out a sigh of relief that it’s him. I’m careful to not move and wake him. He’s lounging back on the couch with his arms holding me, nuzzled into his side. My head rests on his firm yet comfortable chest.
Part of me says I should be running from this type of intimacy, but a larger part of me doesn’t want to leave the safety of Nash’s arms. I carefully pull the blanket—one he must’ve draped over us—tighter to my body and lay my head back down.
Tonight was surprising and wonderful, all wrapped up into one. I initially panicked when I saw Nash standing on the other side of the door, looking effortlessly hot while I rocked cheesy pajamas. I’d been sulking around the house after canceling our dinner date (and yes, I’m ready to admit that I wanted it to be a date). My cute outfit was ready to go, and I was hoping to speak with him about my hopes of giving us a shot, but my stupid PCOS had to arrive and be a complete bitch.
I was diagnosed with PCOS, or polycystic ovary syndrome, when I was in my early twenties after years of irregular periods, painful cramps, weight gain, and super cute chin hairs that I constantly have to pluck. Not to mention the large possibility that I’ll have infertility issues when I finally decide to try to have children.
Usually, I soldier through my symptoms alone. I don’t want to burden anyone with my consistent pain and discomfort. But having Nash take care of me as if it were no big deal changed how I view him.
I’m starting to fall for him.
I mean, I know it’s not meant to be a turn on to see a guy grab you a heating pad, but it definitely did something to me.
Nash’s body stretches beneath me and his arms tighten around my middle. He gently presses a kiss on the top of my head. My eyelids flutter closed as I allow myself to enjoy his attention.
“I could get used to this.” His voice is sleepy.
“Thank you for taking care of me today.”
“Anything for you, Honey Bee. You deserve to be cared for.”
I blush, eyeing him suspiciously. “Honey Bee?”
“Yeah, it fits your personality.” His hand skates up my tattooed arm, stopping once he reaches the little bee. “Sweet like honey, with a killer stinger.”
I chuckle to myself. “I think I like that.” The sweet nickname gives me butterflies in my stomach. Or should I say honey bees.
Nash places one of his large palms on my abdomen. “How are you feeling? Do you need the heating pad again?”
“No, I’m feeling much better now.” He sits us both up and I moan in protest. “Hey handsome, I was comfortable.” He chuckles at my complaint, standing in front of me to stretch his arms over his head, giving me a view of his soft stomach and muscles. He raises a brow. “You like what you see?”
I tap my index finger on my chin, pretending to think. “The view’s okay, I guess.”
Nash, quick as lightning, bends down and hauls me to my feet. I stumble right onto his, but doesn’t seem to mind as one of his hands settles on my face to cup my cheek.
“Just okay? I guess I’m going to have to try harder next time.”
I’m about to give him a sarcastic retort, but he cuts me off. “You still look exhausted. Let’s get you to bed so you feel more yourself in the morning.”
I don’t have it in me to argue. He’s right, flare ups like this take a lot out of me, and I could really use more sleep.
Nash leads me to my room and gestures to the bed. “All right, you hop in and get comfortable. I’ll go grab you a glass of water and some pain relievers in case you need them later.” He’s gone from the room before I can even reply.
If this is what it feels like to be cared for by someone, then I could get used to this.
I can hear Nash in the kitchen walking around, and my heart starts to ache. For a brief moment, I allow myself to imagine what it would be like to be loved by this man. He’s the type who loves with everything he’s got, and any woman would be lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that devotion.
So caught up in my thoughts, I don’t even notice Nash returning to the room.
His concerned voice cuts through the day dream. “Are you all right? Why are you crying?”
I reach a hand up to my cheek and sure enough, it’s damp. Why am I crying? Who am I kidding? I already know the answer to my own question.
I want Nash Montgomery.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about something,” I say, changing the subject. “Nash, you’ve been incredible today. I’ve never had someone take care of me like you have, outside of my family, of course. It meant a lot that you cared enough to stay in.”
He sighs and sinks into the side of the bed. “You really don’t understand how special you are, do you?”
His gaze lands on my face, eyes roaming as if he’s memorizing my every feature.
I don’t know what comes over me, but I sit up and bravely place a hand on his cheek, enjoying the rough texture of his stubble and warmth. Then, summoning as much courage as I can, I manage and lean forward until our lips touch.
Nash’s lips are even more pillowy soft than I imagined. His beard tickles the side of my mouth. I expect him to be at least a little shocked, but he quickly takes over with a hunger of his own.
We part briefly, and he growls low. “I’ve wanted to kiss your sassy mouth since I met you.” When he dives back in to capture my lips, I can’t help but grip the back of his head to bring him closer.
“Nash.” His name is like a silent prayer. I pull him down to the bed until his chest is pressed against my breasts, my nipples hard and aching to be touched.
Before I can wrap my mind around what’s happening, he’s pulled away, breathing rapidly. His heated gaze on me has my core clenching, wanting to be filled.
My attempt to pull him back down to me is no use as he pulls back even more.
“Is something wrong?” Insecurity rears its ugly head. Was he not into the kiss as much as I thought? Ryan was never shy about criticizing my sensuality, making me feel as if my desires were wrong.
Nash leans forward and places a gentle but brief kiss on my lips. “That kiss has me wanting to strip you naked so I can taste every single inch of your delicious curves. However, I want you to be absolutely certain that this is what you want. Until then, I can wait. You are worth waiting for.”
“You’re right, even though I’m annoyed that you’re right. I guess I’m stuck with my vibrator tonight. We should slow down.”
He chuckles, brushing the red strands from my face and looking down at me like I’m the most precious person in the world. It’s sweet to see this mountain of a man treat me with such gentleness.
Nash bites his bottom lip, releasing a groan. “Cora, don’t mistake my restraint with disinterest. You need your rest, and I’d feel like I was taking advantage of you if we went further.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my knees weak.
Weight shifting on the bed, Nash leans down to whisper in my ear. “Don’t for one second think I don’t want you. I’m using all of my self control to not make you scream my name. Once you’re better, if you still want me, I’ll be more than happy to fill you. Over and over again.”
After a brief pause, he pulls back and looks down at me. “God, you are gorgeous,” he says, his voice thick with need. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman. I’d better head home before you convince me to change my mind.”
He walks slowly towards the door, but stops to turn around. His eyes soften. “Goodnight, Honey Bee.”
I listen to his heavy footsteps as he makes his way to the front door, which clicks shut behind him.
Screw him for leaving me all wet and needy. What’s the female equivalent of blue balls?