CHAPTER 31
Nash
Everything in my bedroom spun as I paced, hands on hips. I needed a moment to gather myself and calm down. Undressing a woman I wanted this bad was inhumane cruelty, but I couldn’t give in—I was too angry with myself.
Fucking hell, I wanted to throw something.
I deserved to suffer.
I shouldn’t have pushed her. Of course she was bound to worry about it, and I’d left her to deal with the aftermath alone, something I told myself I wouldn’t do.
I didn’t have a choice, though. Going to work today wasn’t optional. The auction was too close now, and I’d felt confident she’d be okay after seeing her smile last night. I was naive to think that was enough.
At work, nothing felt right. Something was wrong, and it stalked me like a phantom in my wake.
I’d left the office early, unable to shake it.
When I got home, her phone was on the kitchen counter, plugged in where she’d left it last night.
I knew then that I’d fucked up. When I found her in bed, looking the same way I’d left her, I—
I threw my fist into my mattress, punching it to release the tension. My mother would be so disappointed in me.
Sybil was already off-balance, vulnerable, reeling from my theft of Blue, and now this? But I had to do it, didn’t I? Because I was a pusher.
This was my mess to make right. I’d make her feel safe again. I wanted so much to ask my dad for advice on this, but Bee and I agreed to keep PERL under wraps until we got the painting returned to Henry.
My hand ripped through my hair in frustration.
I didn’t want to leave her in the tub by herself for too long, so I hurried downstairs and threw together some food.
She needed to eat. I’d seen her waver when she stood to undress, and I hated seeing her so vulnerable, especially since she was becoming so strong and capable.
In the kitchen, I tried to come up with a quick snack. Sybil seemed to love cheese, and Bee always had it in the house. Riffling through the refrigerator, I found a few blocks and cut slices of cheddar and Gruyere, quartered an apple, and got a tall glass of milk. I put it all on a tray.
Looking down at my watch, I saw it was almost three in the afternoon. Last night, Sybil managed only one bite of her steak before the news crash-landed on her mood. She’d opted for whiskey instead. If she hadn’t eaten all day, too—I hated to think it, not in this house.
My women ate, end of story.
I ran back upstairs with Bill right behind me.
He went straight to the new dog bed I’d gotten and put in our room, as though trusting me to handle it from here.
A few deep breaths filled my lungs before I fortified my nerves enough to go back into the bathroom.
I didn’t need to bring my anxious energy to the table.
Her head lay against the back of the tub, hair now wet and her face dewy with water.
I’d done my best to keep my eyes on hers as I helped her undress, but when she’d turned around, my restraint had crumbled as my gaze trailed down her curves.
With trembling hands, I’d undone her bra.
It was a task that required little conscious effort, but felt hard when it was hers.
The navy lace looked stunning against her pale skin.
With a smirk, I’d noticed her mismatched purple panties and wondered if she knew.
I’d ghosted my finger down her spine until my thumbs found the hem.
All I’d wanted was to pull her close, and show her my desire as I pressed her against me.
Every inch of my body longed to feel her perfect skin on mine.
In my weakness, I’d kissed the base of her spine.
The memory sent a fresh wave of heat crashing over me, and I had to shake it away.
I strode toward her in the tub, pulling a bench closer and setting the plate of food down next to me as I sat. She opened her eyes at the sound of moving furniture, watching me pick a few pieces of cheese and a chunk of apple.
Seeing the cheese, a small smile almost reached her lips, making my heart skip with relief. I wanted to believe I could be the one to bring her back to herself and make her feel whole, and her slight improvement in this moment gave me hope.
She allowed me to feed her the food, piece by piece. When she attempted to reach for a piece of cheese with a wet hand, I shook my head. She offered me a rueful look before her hand sank back under the warm blanket of bubbles. It was my job to take care of her, and she was going to understand that.
One bite at a time, she almost finished the entire plate. Satisfied, I set the plate on the counter and moved the bench so I could sit behind her. I motioned for her to lean forward so I could wash her hair. She conceded without protest.
With as much care as I could manage, I washed the strands. They were so fair that they were near translucent. It was beautiful.
As I massaged her scalp, she let out a soft moan, and my stomach tightened. I washed the soap from her hair before adding a little conditioner and massaging it in. As I washed that out, she leaned back against the edge of the tub again, her doe-like eyes looking up at me.
A smile curled her lip, almost reaching her eyes. Life was returning to her features, and I was the one doing it. As a man, it was the best reward.
“I needed you,” she whispered.
My hands, now on her shoulders, stilled. The way she said it wasn’t to elicit guilt, but a declaration of her desires. My body knew this. I let my finger trail down the bridge of her nose as I looked down on her from above and upside down. “I needed you, too.”
Her hand emerged from the bubbles, reaching for one of mine and grasping it. Her touch was warm from the bathwater and gentle. She threaded her fingers into mine and tugged once, telling me to give in to her guidance.
I let her take my hand, and she pulled it into the water. With her eyes on mine, she placed it on her breast in invitation. She fit in my palm, and I couldn’t help stroking a finger across her nipple to tease it.
Her nipple hardened, and her blue eyes fluttered shut as she whimpered and squirmed in the water.
My other hand trailed from her shoulder, and up her long, beautiful neck until I cupped her chin.
I tilted her head farther back as I leaned forward, fitting my lips to hers and stroking her nipple with a relentless, circular motion.
Her mouth opened, tongue twisting with mine.
I fell to my knees, rounding the tub to kiss her properly and grasping the back of her neck to pull her closer—needing to be closer.
Water sloshed, soaking my shirt as she twisted to face me. Climbing to her knees to match my ferocity, she wrapped her arms around my neck. My free hand found her other breast. I teased that nipple as well, coaxing another moan from her lips, and memorizing her sweet sounds as she made them.
Overwhelmed by the feel of her warm, slick skin and eager lips, I ran my hands down her spine to the small of her back.
I hoisted her out of the water and set her on her feet.
Everything got wet in my haste to bring her close.
It didn’t matter. I pulled her against me, wanting to swallow her whole.
Her body soaked my shirt and pants from the action, eliciting an erotic thrill.
She clung to me as she did in her sleep, hands grappling at my shirt, her want as apparent as mine.
She keened, folding at my touch. “Please, Nash.”
Her begging broke me. She was everything I wanted. I was prepared to give her the world. The second I’d met her, I knew the very fabric of my universe had changed; the threads becoming one. Distance was painful, but here, close together, it felt like we were escaping all that hurt.
I towered over her, leaning down as she stood on her toes, unwilling to break our kiss. She shivered once, and I hooked my hands under her hips. With ease, I lifted her off her feet, and she wrapped her legs around my middle. She gasped, rubbing against me, and I growled at her eagerness.
I cupped her thighs, urging her on, and she whimpered again. I stoked the fire between us, desperate to ignite her. Her hips began to move. We broke the kiss, gasping for air, our breaths mingling.
I used the break to walk us from the room, biting her bottom lip as she pushed her perfect breasts against me, water dripping in a trail behind us.
I set her on the bed, lying her back. She pulled me onto her, hands white-knuckled in the fabric of my shirt.
She looked down at my chest, moving her shaking hands to my buttons.
I didn’t stop her. There was no stopping it this time. I wanted her bare skin against my own. While she worked, I lifted her a few times to move her closer to the headboard. I gathered the surrounding comforters around us before settling between her legs.
My erection strained painfully against the front of my pants, but I wasn’t letting him out, not yet. I could only appease the ache by pressing my bulge against her. She gasped.
The last button on my shirt fell open, and she peeled the wet, white fabric over each shoulder, shucking it down my arms before I helped her pull it off and toss it to the floor with a wet slap.
She arched into me as I returned to her, kissing her neck and down between her breasts. With hands roving down her waist to her hips, I rolled her pelvis. The feeling of her skin sliding against mine was nothing short of heaven.
She felt warm now, her arousal apparent. Dipping my hand between her legs, I gathered her wetness before I found her clit and rubbed small circles.
“Nash,” she hissed with pleasure. “Oh my...” Another moan left her lips.