Chapter 14
14
Nick
Panic overwhelms the good dreams I’m having, and my eyes fly open to find an empty bed beside me. Fuck!
Apparently, I’ve learned nothing since Catalina.
I sit up, the smallest bit of hope remaining as I scan the room—top to bottom, left to right—for Natalie. The bathroom door is open with no signs of her inside there either. Last night was too good to let go as if it meant nothing, but she’s gone.
Slamming my fists down on the mattress, I grit my teeth and close my eyes in anger for letting this happen twice. I take a deep breath and attempt to riddle myself into rational thought. If she left, she had her reasons. Maybe last night didn’t mean as much to her as it did to me.
As much as I want to take this frustration out on myself, maybe I overlooked reality. I had a few drinks, and although I wasn’t drunk, not even close, did I misjudge what was happening?
Even though she remains a mystery to me, I find some consolation in the fact she knows my last name and where I’m staying. What she does with that information remains to be seen.
What’s that phrase about setting someone free, and if they never return, they weren’t yours? I’m fucking this all up, kind of like my relationship with Natalie. She said she loved what I did with my mouth and tongue. One would assume that I might get a number based on that alone. Why did she make me promise her we were more than a one-night stand if she planned to disappear in the morning?
Natalie’s complicated . . . to say the least, but it’s one of the things that attracts me to her.
I scrub my hands over my face and get out of bed. Tugging on my briefs, I go to start the shower and grab my phone on the way. Just as I turn on the water, my screen lights up in my other hand.
I grin as everything that ran through my mind since I woke up is gone in an instant.
On the screen is a photo of her that she must have taken this morning. Her face is clean of the makeup I kissed away last night, but a fresh layer of pink lipstick has been applied. The break of day sneaking in through the window glows against her skin. She’s absolutely luminous.
Her smile is mischievous as if she knew I’d wake up and freak out, or maybe that’s what she planned all along. Complicated.
Although the shower water is still running, I leave the bathroom to snoop around for more clues that will lead me to her. I find my next one on the hotel stationery pad—a note left behind:
Check your last call.
Love,
Natalie
Smiling. Ear to ear. It’s been a long damn time since I’ve felt this happy. But I’m still quick to check my recent calls log. I chuckle when I see the last contact my phone called—Tequila Girl.
I call the number and stick in the earbud, waiting for her to answer. “You have my number now,” she answers, her voice a balm to soothe my racing heart.
If I was smiling before, I’m flat-out grinning like an idiot now. “I do. Good morning, by the way.”
“Good morning.” There’s a slight pause, and then she adds, “I would have woken you, but you looked so peaceful that I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
Hoping to talk to her for longer than a few minutes, I walk back into the bathroom. “I only found peace because you were next to me, so wake me next time.”
“With lines like that, I might have to keep you around.”
I shut off the shower and then return to the bedroom. “They’re not lines. They’re truths.”
“Tell me more of your truths.” Her voice is a whisper.
“I’m only in town until tomorrow, and I want to wake up with you beside me.”
“Are you asking me to come to a sleepover or out on a date with hopes of seeing the sunrise together?”
I know exactly what I want when it comes to her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reply, “Whatever gives me more time with you.”
“Such a charmer.” If happiness had a tone, hers embodies it. “You must have had a good night.”
“The best.”
“If it makes a difference, I did too.”
“That makes all the difference.” I don’t know why I’m suddenly feeling shy. We’re joking around and keeping things lighthearted, which is probably best at this hour of the morning, but this is the most I’ve felt for anyone in a long time . . .
I look down at the pad of paper, tracing my finger over her pretty handwriting, and ask, “Where are you?” A knock on the door draws my attention. “Hold on,” I add quickly.
“Room service.”
Smirking, I unlock the door and swing it open. She holds up a bag and a cup carrier with two coffee cups. I say, “I’ve been waiting for you,” and then silently tack on all my life .
She moves inside the room. “Sorry I’m late.”
I let the door close on its own and take her by the waist. Holding her tight, I kiss her and then tilt my head to the side to kiss her cheekbone. When I reach her ear, I whisper, “You’re right on time.”
Despite her hands being full, her arms come around me, and she kisses me. “Sorry I didn’t make it back before you woke up. I wanted to.”
When I start kissing her neck, she closes her eyes and tilts her head back. I hear the bag hit the floor, and she exhales. The palm of her hand heats the back of my neck as she holds me there. “I hope you don’t have plans for breakfast.”
Leaning back, I take the tray of coffees from her and pivot to set it down on the dresser. Quick to return to her, I grab her by the ass and lift her into my arms. “I absolutely have plans for breakfast, but they don’t include pastries of any kind.”
She cups my face, and our lips crush together. Moving toward the bed, I overshoot it, and we tumble onto the mattress. Nothing deters us, though, and she starts pulling her shirt off while I tug down my briefs. Her bra comes off, then she unsnaps her jeans. Stopping, she says, “I need a little help.”
Looking down at her, I groan, “Not these damn jeans again.” I hop off the bed and grab the denim at her hips. “Jesus fucking Christ, I’m going to buy you the baggiest fucking jeans to wear around me.” I give a little tug, and when she slides down the bed with them, I add, “Brace yourself.”
An eyebrow raises and then she grins. Fisting the sheets like she did last night, she lifts her hips into the air, digging her head into the bed. “Is this how you want me, Nick?”
Fucking hell. “Why are you so hot?” I ask rhetorically. I’m so hard for her it hurts, so it’d be nice if I could get these damn jeans off her. I get a good grip again, and this time, I’m successful.
Her bare pussy reminds me of ripping her panties last night, and my impatience to taste her again has me settling between her legs. Kissing her right there at her core, I steal her breath and cause her to squirm.
I hear my name through gasps as her heels dig into my shoulder blades. Pressing my dick against the bed, I seek relief, but nothing can replace the memory of how good she felt last night. So I study what makes her wiggle and what makes her moan, learning what she likes and what sends her over the edge to deliver exactly what she needs. Her body embraces my fingers as tremors rip through her.
Just when I’m about to slide up the bed to score another of her orgasms and lose myself in one of my own, I turn to her. “Please tell me you have another condom on hand.”
She starts laughing. “Since I’ve been rewarded already . . .” Pushing off the bed, she gets up and walks across the room, not one damn ounce of embarrassment found in the way she moves. Picking up the bag, she continues, “I’m not going to judge you by the lack of preparation, but if we’re going to make this a regular thing . . .” She tosses me the bag. “We’d better stock up.”
“On bagels or donuts?” I’m still erect from the sight of her naked body, so I shift to ease the discomfort. It won’t work since there’s only one true way to ease the craving.
Killing me, she takes her time crawling back onto the bed and then kisses my head. “Open it.” I like that she kisses my head before she sits down.
Opening the bag, I peek inside. “I feel like it’s my birthday or Christmas morning came early.”
She lies down, and says, “Speaking of coming . . .” Eyeing me, she darts her tongue out over the corner of her mouth. “Where were we?”
“Right about here.” Our tongues tangle in passion, and I slip my hand between us, rubbing until her body begs for more. I roll the condom down my length and push inside her, our bodies reconnecting once again.
Unlike last night, I take my time pleasuring her this morning. I want to know what she likes and how she reacts to different positions and angles. Having her turn over and raise her ass in the air, I don’t push boundaries with her yet, but I enjoy watching the way her head tilts back when I dip into her entrance with a slow and calculated drive. The intensity of her heat is felt deep inside me.
The curve of her hips highlights the small size of her waist. I can’t resist holding them while taking her from behind. I won’t last long, no matter how I try to stave off my release. So I reach around and focus on her bliss, her release becoming mine.
Through staggered breaths, I fall to the side, and she turns over on her back, and we lie together in the aftermath. She turns to face me with a sweet smile on her face, sweet being the opposite of what we just did. “I have a confession to make.”
I hate how my heart stops beating as if she’s about to devastate the world we just built. “What is it?”
“There was a bagel in that bag.”
Trying not to smile, I ask, “What happened to it?”
She rubs her hand over her stomach. “I ate it.” Biting her lower lip, there’s that mischievous look in her eyes again. “And I’m not sorry about it.”
I chuckle but then put on a straight face again. “What do you suggest we do to punish you?”
“I was thinking I could meet you here later and let you have your way with me.”
“Is that what you consider a punishment?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow. “Having sex with me.”
“No, Counselor, but spending the day away from you will be.”
Admiring the pink of her cheeks caused by the early morning workout, I say, “Who’s the charmer now?” She’s so gorgeous that I feel what she means deep inside me. I don’t want to be away from her either. “Natalie?”
Her eyes have closed, and her breathing is even. “Yeah?”
“Sex with you is . . .” I stop, the words getting choked in my throat.
When I fail to continue, she opens her eyes and caresses my cheek before kissing my chin. “I know.” Snuggling closer, she drapes her arm over my chest. I tighten my arm around her back and kiss her head. She whispers, “I feel the same,” against my chest.
We lie there in the sunshine beaming through a crack in the curtains. When I’m on the verge of falling asleep again, she says, “St. James.”
“St. James?”
“That’s my last name.”
She can’t see my smile, but that doesn’t matter because I’ll be wearing it for the rest of the day. “Natalie St. James is a beautiful name.”