19. Dex
Chapter 19
I glance around as Declan leads me through an enormous open-plan living space that would fit my entire apartment inside at least ten times over. Probably more. Floor-to-ceiling windows give a magnificent view of Manhattan, but I’m too conscious of the five pairs of eyes that swivel my way to stare at it for too long.
Three women and two guys lock their gazes onto me, gawping as if I’m an exhibit in a zoo. It takes a moment for me to realize the two guys are twins—identical twins—and I do a double-take, my mouth dropping open a couple of inches. Eventually, I blink and force my jaw shut, hopefully before anyone notices.
One of the women gets up and comes toward us with a brilliant smile. “You must be Dex.” She clasps me by the shoulders and kisses my cheek. “I’m Indie, Declan’s fiancée. We’re thrilled you could be here for our wedding.”
The other four people all rise to their feet and are now making their way over. I shuffle from foot to foot, unused to this amount of interest. I’m a fly-under-the-radar kind of girl rather than a center-of-attention one.
“I’m Callum,” the first guy says, also kissing my cheek. “This is Laurella.” He tugs a dark-haired, olive-skinned beauty to his side, as if he can’t bear not to touch her.
“It’s so lovely to meet you,” Laurella says, a European accent shining through that I can’t quite place. I make a mental note to ask Nate later as it seems rude to ask Laurella where she’s from.
Callum’s mirror image follows on behind. “I’m Ciaran, and this is my girlfriend, Millie. And over there”—he points to a bassinet I hadn’t spotted until now—“is our little girl, Aimee.”
The pride in Ciaran’s voice, and the way he gazes adoringly at Millie, has envy curling in my belly. I have no doubt Nate is attracted to me. The amount of sex we have is testament to that. But Ciaran looks at his girlfriend as though walking over hot coals wouldn’t be enough of a sacrifice to prove his devotion and love.
“It’s so great to meet you all.”
“You won’t think that in a couple days,” Nate grumbles, appearing from the foyer, towing our suitcases behind him.
I watch in fascination as the faces of Nate’s brothers light up, and he’s enveloped into the bosom of his family. Even the girlfriends join in with the group hug. It reminds me of a rugby game I saw on TV once where all the players piled on top of one another. It makes me frown in confusion. Why would he not want this? There’s so much love for him in this room, I almost feel like a voyeur, stealing a private moment that isn’t mine to share in. Yet he freely admits he doesn’t like coming home. I don’t get it.
Eventually he muscles his way free and scuffs a hand over the top of his head, then straightens his shirt as his eyes cut to mine.
“Sit down, Titch.”
“Both of you sit down,” Declan says. “I’ll get the drinks. Champagne, Dex?”
I open my mouth to respond, but Nate beats me to it. “She was being polite earlier. She doesn’t like champagne. She’ll have a beer.”
I give him a death stare. Nate doesn’t even bat an eyelid at his rudeness, or my fiery glare. Instead, he shrugs.
“She is perfectly capable of speaking for herself,” I say, but Nate’s lips only twitch at my snippy attitude. The man is impossible. “I would love a beer if that’s okay.”
“Ha!” Nate says.
I show him my middle finger.
Callum barks out a laugh. “You’re going to fit right in, Dex.”
Declan rolls his eyes at Indie. “Here we go.”
Declan and Indie walk over to the kitchen area while Nate flops down beside me. His little finger brushes against mine. “Doing okay, Titch?”
“You didn’t tell me you had twin brothers,” I whisper as embarrassment at my open-mouthed stares of a few minutes ago finally hit me. “Identical twin brothers.”
Nate twists his lips to the side. “It never occurred to me.”
I suppress an urge to elbow him in the ribs, but only because Laurella and Millie start asking me about my job, and how many famous people I get to see on a daily basis. Neither of them seem to think of Nate as one of those famous people, which I guess is fairly natural when referring to someone they know well.
“So, bro,” Callum says. “It’s been a while. What’s new?”
Nate shrugs, disinterested. “Not much.”
“Work okay?” Ciaran asks.
“I guess.”
I squirm at his monosyllabic responses to perfectly legitimate questions, and press my thigh against his in warning. It has absolutely no effect.
“We’re really glad you made it,” Declan says.
Nate cocks an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware I had a choice.”
“You didn’t,” Declan replies, grinning. He seems indifferent to Nate’s curt attitude, which means this isn’t unusual behavior.
My curiosity ramps up at the same rate as my embarrassment. Nate’s relationship with his brothers is an odd dynamic, yet the restraint is all on his side. They’re as open and loving as anyone could wish for.
Nate yawns loudly when fewer than thirty minutes of his brothers trying to tease information from him—which he refuses to share— passes. “It’s been a long day, and Dex is shattered.” He unfolds his long legs and gets to his feet. “Come on, Titch. Let’s go to bed.”
I narrow my eyes. I’m not remotely tired, and neither is Nate, but the silent pleading in his expression has me rising to my feet.
“Thank you for such a lovely welcome,” I say.
“We’re glad you’re both here.” Declan stands. “I’ll show you to your room, unless you’d rather your own space, Dex? We have plenty of spare bedrooms if you’d rather sleep alone.”
His twitching lips tell me he’s joking, but Nate’s glowering expression says he doesn’t find the quip remotely funny.
“She’s sleeping with me,” Nate snaps.
“Well, the offer’s there if his moods get too much.” Declan winks at me.
I like him. I like them all, which makes Nate’s attitude even more confusing. Once we’re alone, I turn to Nate.
“Why were you so rude out there? And for the record, I’m not tired.”
Nate parks my suitcase by the wall and tosses his own bag on the floor next to the bed. “You will be by the time I’m finished with you.”
My stomach vaults when he crooks a finger, beckoning me, but despite my body’s eagerness to strip naked and get down to business, I can’t let it lie.
“You were really short with them, and they were so happy to see you. I think you should apologize.”
Nate curves one eyebrow. “Do you now?” His tone holds a hint of ice, which I ignore.
“Nate! What is wrong with you?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Nothing. They’re used to me. It’s fine.”
“It is not fine. I was embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. Not on my account.”
I plant my hands on my hips and glare. A few seconds scrape by before Nate expels a frustrated sigh. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Fine. I’ll apologize in the morning. Now can we go to bed and fuck?”
I stay on my side of the room. “We should unpack.”
“The only thing we’ll need tonight is condoms.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out several, which he drops on the nightstand. “Well, would you look at that.”
Despite my annoyance, I smile. It’s impossible to stay mad at Nate for long. I guess in the end it isn’t my place to call him out on his relationship with his brothers. If they have a problem, it’s theirs to solve.
“What if they hear us?”
He unfastens his belt. “If it bothers you so much, keep quiet.”
I nibble on my bottom lip. “You know I like it noisy.”
Nate eases the belt through the loops on his jeans and casually flings it on the bed. “Then, maybe I’ll have to gag you.”
Yes, please.
Oh, where did that come from? My face must speak a thousand words, because a slow grin edges across Nate’s face. “You like that idea, do you?”
I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. “Maybe.”
He saunters across to my side of the bed and slips his arms around my waist. His erection nudges at me, and my thighs tremble as a surge of excitement heats my blood. Nate always has this effect on me, like my insides are on fire.
“Such a revelation,” he murmurs, briefly touching my lips with his. “Dexter Nolan. My perfect woman.”
His perfect woman? A lightness spreads through my chest, and I want to fist pump the air and shout “Yes!” But that would not be cool.
Instead, I pretend to faint. “Nathan O’Reilly, giving out compliments.”
“Grab ’em while you can,” he says, unfastening the buttons on his shirt. His eyes never leave mine as he shucks it from his shoulders and lets it fall to the floor.
My gaze inches lower, over his firm chest, the hard ridges of his abdomen, and the thin line of hair disappearing behind the waistband of his jeans.
Nate groans. “Don’t look at me like that, otherwise this will be over quicker than either of us want it to be.”
I flick my tongue out to wet my lips, eliciting another groan from him. He grips the hem of my T-shirt and pulls it over my head. My bra goes next, then my jeans are peeled down my legs, and I kick off my sneakers so he can remove my jeans completely.
“Get on the bed,” he orders.
I don’t hesitate. I love it when Nate bosses me around—at least in the bedroom. In here, where it’s just the two of us, I’m more than happy to give him control.
“Open your legs.”
I comply, but he shakes his head. “Wider. Yep, just like that.”
He slips off his shoes, and his jeans follow. I swallow at the sight of his thick erection through his boxers. He crawls onto the bed and lays on his side, his hand propping up his head. His eyes are firmly fixed on the apex to my thighs as he runs his tongue along the underside of his top row of teeth. “Pull your panties to one side.”
Unlike the first time Nate asked me to do this when I panicked and almost ran, this time, I don’t hesitate. During the last few weeks, trust has grown between us, and now I know that by pleasing him, I’ll ultimately please myself.
“Touch yourself.”
Oh, this is a step up. I’ve masturbated several times thinking of Nate, but never with him watching. My hand creeps toward my pussy, and I glide my middle finger over my folds. Nate remains completely still, his eyes following every move of my hand. I touch my clit, the bundle of nerves already so sensitive that my legs writhe of their own accord. Nate sits up and grips both ankles, holding my thighs apart.
“Make yourself come.”
Embarrassment causes a rush of blood to my cheeks. Bringing myself to climax in the privacy of my own bedroom is one thing. To do it with Nate’s ice-blue, unwavering gaze on me is quite another.
“I-I don’t know if I can. Not with you watching. Not with your family on the other side of that door.”
His lips curve to the side in a crooked smile. “Forget my family. It’s not like they’re out there with glasses pressed against the door. It’s a big apartment. They won’t hear you. As for me watching… close your eyes if it makes it easier.”
“Why do you want me to do it rather than you doing it?”
“Because it’s fucking sexy. It turns me on.”
When I chew uncertainly on my lip, Nate crawls between my legs and kisses me.
A few seconds later, he draws back. “How about I join in?”
My eyes widen as his meaning becomes clear. The thought of Nate stroking himself while I do the same… oh, yeah. Now I understand why he might find it a turn-on to watch me.
I dip my chin in affirmation, and he stands and removes his boxers. His erection bobs as he climbs back onto the bed. I expect him to lie beside me. Instead, he kneels up between my thighs. I won’t be able to close them now, even if I want to, which I don’t.
He wraps his hand around his shaft and moves it in slow, leisurely strokes, paying particular attention to the crown. His eyes are on me rather than himself. I follow his lead, touching, pinching, rubbing in faster and faster circles. Lost in the moment, I insert two fingers inside myself, eliciting a long moan from Nate.
“Jesus, Titch.” He catches my wrist, pulls out my fingers, and sucks them clean.
I gasp at the surprise move, then giggle. “You’re a dirty man, Nate O’Reilly.”
His grin is lecherous, and all the while his hand moves faster and faster on his cock. “You fucking love it.”
I love you.
The thought comes out of nowhere, and like a shovel to the side of my skull, it knocks me sideways. I don’t love Nate. I’m in an emotional state, that’s all. He’s introducing me to a side of myself I didn’t know existed, and I’m feeling extra sensitive. I like him. I’m glad we met. I’m grateful he’s helping me with Mom’s care needs. But love?
“I’m close,” he groans out, sweat gathering on his top lip.
I drag myself back to the here and now and file away the little nugget my subconscious chose to reveal for another, more appropriate time. With my eyes fixed on Nate, magnificent in his aroused state, I roll my finger around my clit while pinching and tweaking my nipples. Heat grows in my belly as I build to the inevitable climax.
“I want to come on your tits. Tell me now if you’d rather I didn’t.”
At his admission, my orgasm breaks. “Come wherever you like,” I moan, my neck arching and toes curling as my climax powers through me.
“Fuck.”
I open my eyes in time to see Nate spilling over my chest. Hot spurts of warm, slippery cum drip between my breasts, and his abs twitch and clench as he empties himself. God, he’s beautiful. Utterly magnificent.
He grins down at me, still semi-hard. I rise on my elbows and lick the moisture off the tip, and his cock jerks in approval.
“You’re a fucking revelation, Titch,” he says, bending down for a quick kiss. “Don’t move. I’ll get a cloth and clean you up.”
He disappears into the adjoining bathroom, returning a few seconds later with a facecloth he’s dipped it in warm water. Thoughtful Nate is a revelation. He cleans me up, returns the cloth to the bathroom, and joins me on the bed.
“Pass me those condoms. It’s going to be a long, hard night.”