Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
Bex
N ash pushes me down on the couch, bringing his body down on top of mine. Sure, the Stroh rum is making my head swim, but I’m more off-kilter because things have changed between us. We’re no longer ex-lovers. We’re no longer enemies. We’ve made amends and now we’re standing at a crossroads.
“Bex,” Nash whispers, rubbing his nose along mine. “Ask me to stay the night.”
“Of course you’ll stay the night,” I say, my lips quirking upward. “You’re too inebriated to drive.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Not so inebriated that I don’t understand that by asking you to ask me to stay the night, that implies I want to fuck you and when that happens, things are going to change between us.”
“That’s a confusing mouthful,” I chide.
“You understand me well enough,” he says, his voice dark and promising. “There’s no going back after tonight.”
And yes… I understand. I know this man so well I knew what he was saying without him even saying it. “I don’t want to go back. I’d have never let you kiss me if I was looking anywhere but straight ahead.”
Rum be damned.
Relief washes across his face and his smile is so bright, it’s blinding. It reminds me of the days when I lived to make him happy, and I’m not sure where that all got lost. “We’re in accord, then,” he muses. “Let’s take advantage of just such a peace.”
“Kiss me again and make me remember all the times you used to make me see stars.”
Nash’s lips crash onto mine fervently, the weight of years of tension and longing finally released in that singular moment. The taste of rum lingers on his tongue, adding a fiery edge to the desires that burn between us. As we lose ourselves in each other, the world outside fades away.
The heat between us is palpable, each touch igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both. Nash rolls us to our sides so we’re facing each other. His hands trace the curves of my body as he reacquaints himself with a long-lost lover, and I respond in kind, my fingers kneading into his shoulders as I pull him closer.
At this moment, I am consumed by an unfathomable need that floods every inch of my being. My body is strung tight with eagerness as his hands roam, desperate to hold on to this intense feeling and make it last forever.
What will he do to me? Will he drive me wild with pleasure or be content with just hearing my gasps and moans? The anticipation is almost unbearable, but it only adds to the thrill and heightens my excitement.
But then I think to myself… What am I waiting for? I can reciprocate just fine on my own.
I reach for the waistband of his jeans, eager to feel more of him. He shifts his hips, giving me access, and his piercing gaze locks onto mine, a hint of challenge.
Without hesitation, I unfasten the top button and lower his zipper. A sharp hiss escapes Nash’s lips as my fingers slip under the edge of his underwear and graze against the sensitive head of his cock.
“Damn, Bex,” he groans, overwhelmed by the intense sensation.
A mischievous grin spreads across my face as I tease him, knowing that he would never push me away. The Stroh has emboldened me, and despite the deceitful nature of my heart for leading me back to him, I can’t resist pushing his jeans and underwear down farther for better access.
“Lift your hips a bit,” I rasp, unable to get my hand around him.
He doesn’t hesitate and I’m able to push all the offending cotton and denim out of the way, freeing his erection. I roll off the couch, my knees hitting the carpet a little too hard, and I glance at Nash’s face. His eyes are hooded and dark with desire as he watches me, causing a flutter in my stomach.
With confidence fueled by alcohol and longing, I wrap my hand around his thick erection and lean forward, licking the head like it’s a lollipop. Nash’s body jerks in response, his hips moving forward as he curses under his breath. My grip tightens as I pull him closer, taking him all the way into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat. Suppressing the gag reflex, I suck on him hard.
Nash groans out in pleasure, his fingers tangling in my hair and pulling me off him. At that moment, I fear that he’s angry, but when I look up at him, I can see the passion burning hotly. “I’ll last about ten seconds if you keep doing that,” he wheezes, pulling me across the cushion and pressing a hard kiss to my lips. “You’re the only one who can make me lose control, Bex.”
I raise an eyebrow curiously. “And that’s bad?”
“Tonight, it is,” he mutters. “Because… we can’t afford to mess this up again.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, lurching off the couch and pulling me to my feet. My head spins as he kisses me almost violently. I respond eagerly, our teeth clashing and tongues dueling for dominance. Even though he may not want my mouth on him right now, it doesn’t stop me from stroking his throbbing erection with rough, measured movements while our kiss becomes wilder and more desperate.
A laugh bubbles up in my throat when Nash’s large hand wraps around my wrist, pulling it away from him. I try to hold on, but he nips at my bottom lip hard enough to make it sting and my fingers involuntarily release their grip. Everything is still there between us—the same fiery passion we used to share. On the outside, it may look like we’re trying to destroy each other, but on the inside, we are thriving off the intensity of our desires.
With one swift movement, Nash pushes me back down on the couch and comes right down on top of me so he’s in the dominant position. His hand grips my wrists above my head and I’m utterly helpless. His gaze is intense, filled with a mixture of hunger and restraint. His lips descend upon mine, soft yet demanding, before trailing down my neck, each touch igniting a fire within me. His hands roam my body with purpose, the strength within them a testament that they’re truly healed from the crash.
I give myself over to him completely. He navigates every curve, every sensitive spot, as if we’ve not been apart for three years. His touch is as gentle yet deliberate, sometimes tentative but in a teasing way.
Lifting his head, he says, “Need to get you naked.”
“Because there’s nothing more comical than two drunk people trying to get their clothes off while on the couch.”
Nash snickers, bending down to kiss me quickly before saying, “Then let’s take this to the bedroom.”
We steal down the hall, hand in hand, laughing and touching. His hands are all over me, the clothes come flying off, and then we’re naked on top of my bed where once again, he starts kissing my body.
I arch my back, my neck, and look at the ceiling, wondering how I got here and chastising myself for ever letting this go.
Nash’s touches are slow, his fingertips tracing intricate patterns along my sides, causing me to writhe beneath him. He was always like that… never in a rush to get to the end with me.
The exact opposite of how he is on the track, and that always made me feel like I had a piece of Nash Sinclair no one could ever hope to understand.
The heat of his body presses against mine, his ragged exhales sending tremors through me. Nash’s lips find their way to my ear, his voice a velvety whisper that sends shivers down my spine. “You taste like everything we’ve shared. The sweetness of victory, the saltiness of tears, the spice of lust,” he murmurs before nuzzling under my jaw just so he can make his way back to my neck. I gasp at the sensation, my hips twisting beneath him.
“You’re a fucking poet,” I mutter before demanding, “Give me more.”
Nash chuckles at my neediness and slides down my body. He grabs my thighs and positions himself between them, and I feel the warmth of his breath on my most intimate area before he begins to explore it with the tip of his tongue.
I cry out at that first soft touch, buck against the feelings, and his fingers dig into my muscles to hold me in place. The man works his magic, every flick of his tongue, every stroke of his skilled fingers sending waves of pleasure crashing through me and threatening to consume me whole. He knows exactly what I need because he’s given it to me countless times before. Things may have been forgotten, but he remembers all too well how to play my body like a violin.
The tension starts to build within, almost to a painful level. A guttural moan rips from me as his tongue lashes, and with two fingers thrusting inside of me, Nash sends me over the edge in a free fall of blistering ecstasy.
“Fuck, that’s beautiful,” Nash murmurs as he continues to lave my clit, causing more sparks of pleasure to pulse through me.
My hands go to his head, trying to push him off, but he refuses. He licks at me until the last of the orgasm fades into a cherished memory and my flesh becomes too sensitive. “Nash,” I gasp, pushing on his head. “I need you inside me.”
He growls a refusal.
“Please,” I moan, and something about my voice breaks him out of his focus. He lifts his head, lips shiny with my wet, his eyes wild with unsated hunger. “Now.”
Nash smiles, slow and leisurely, and starts a slow climb up my body. He spreads my legs, lifting one up with his hand to the back of my thigh. Pressing his opposite elbow into the mattress, I feel the head of his cock against me and then he’s pushing his way in.
He’s big but my body recognizes him. Opens, blooms and invites him in. He slides deep, filling me up so fully I’m on the verge of blacking out from how good it feels.
Nash groans like a dying man. “How could I have forgotten how fucking good this is?” he asks between gritted teeth.
His hips start to pump, and I can’t even open my mouth to speak. Suddenly, I’m drowning in such intense pleasure I can do nothing but hang on for the ride.
Driven to prolong this, Nash fucks me slowly. He forces my hands above my head again so I can’t touch him and uses his hips alone to drive us both higher. I can only lock my legs around his hips and just… feel.
We stare at each other, no words needed. Both of us know that our lives just changed radically.
His lips touch mine, his cock tunneling deep, and when he lifts his head, he says, “I need you to come again.”
His words are so sincere, so needful for me to have another moment of perfect pleasure, that I start to unravel. Nash watches me carefully as my body bucks and back arches, his hips never missing a beat as he fucks me faster and harder.
And then he starts to fall, neck muscles corded as he grits his teeth through the explosion, looking lost and found at the same time. I love watching him lose control and it intensifies the pulses of my release as we cling together.
It feels cataclysmic, completely wrecking, and we collapse to the bed in a tangle. I’m beyond exhausted, the last reserve of the bitterness I’d been holding on to swept away. I’m drowsy and a smile plays on my lips as Nash wraps his powerful arms around me.
I mumble, “I forgot how much I loved that.”
Forgot how much I love you , but I don’t voice that.
Instead, I burrow into him and fall into a deep sleep.