22 - Nathan
Nathan
The kiss hits me before I’m ready for it.
Her mouth is warm and sure against mine, and her hand is fisted in my shirt like she’s anchoring herself. For half a second, my brain blanks entirely. All I can register is the softness of her lips and the way the counter is digging into my back.
Then everything comes rushing in at once.
Wesley. Here. Kissing me.
Shock flares first, sharp and disorienting, followed immediately by want so intense it makes my entire body thrum. I stay still for a heartbeat longer, every instinct screaming to slow down so that I don’t fuck this up.
She pulls back to breathe, her lips still brushing mine, but I lean forward, my lips searching for hers instinctively.
This is a bad idea. I don’t date. She doesn’t date. She’s made that painfully clear. She’s disciplined and focused and allergic to anything messy, and I’m very much a complication.
If I hesitate, even for a second, she might decide this was a mistake and walk out the same way she walked in, leaving me standing here replaying it.
I’m a selfish bastard because I’m not willing to risk it.
I kiss her back, slow at first, like I’m asking instead of taking, and the sound she makes when she melts into me wrecks whatever restraint I have left. My hands come up, sliding to her waist, feeling the curve of her, grounding myself in the fact that she’s here and kissing me for real.
There is nothing on this planet that feels better than Wesley’s lips.
I’d bet my contract on it. At this moment, I’d bet everything on it.
Hell, that might be exactly what I’m doing by allowing this to happen.
Because when we both have a moment to remember ourselves and our responsibilities, this will only complicate everything, putting it all at risk.
I can’t bring myself to care.
I spin her without thinking, turning us so she’s the one against the counter now, her breath hitching when she realizes what I’m doing.
I crowd into her space, trailing my lips along her jaw before I find her mouth again.
The way she tilts her head back for me feels like permission I’m not going to waste.
Her hands tighten in my shirt as I lift her, setting her on the counter. Her legs fall open instinctively, my body settling between them, and for one dizzying moment, I forget everything outside of her body against mine.
Something clatters over the counter.
We both freeze.
Then she laughs breathlessly, forehead dropping to my shoulder. I start laughing too, the sound ripped out of me by pure disbelief.
“That was my water glass,” she says.
“RIP,” I reply, still grinning like an idiot.
The laughter fades, the space between us charging all over again, quieter now but no less intense. My hands are still on her hips. Hers are still in my shirt. Neither of us moves away.
I swallow.
“So,” I say, voice rougher than I want it to be. “What does this mean?”
She looks at me, calculating her next words before she says them. Not regret. Just control reasserting itself.
“I don’t date,” she says again, gentler this time but no less firm.
I nod. “So you’ve said.”
She studies my face like she’s checking for cracks. “But if we’re already pretending, if we’re already fake dating, we might as well reap some of the benefits.” Her lips twitch.
My pulse kicks.
“Benefits,” I repeat.
Wesley Miller is standing in my kitchen after kissing me senseless and offering benefits. My mind flashes through a dozen inappropriate images of what those benefits will be.
“Strictly temporary. Until my team party. When we fake break up, this ends too.”
Every smart part of me knows I should be thrilled.
This having an expiration date means I can keep my focus on my game and saving my contract.
But there’s something in my chest that sinks.
The idea that this is a fling, that she’d categorize what’s happening as a matter of convenience, stings more than I would expect it to.
Every relationship I’ve had in recent years has been a matter of convenience, and yet, now, when that’s what I should want, it doesn’t feel like enough.
Still, I nod.
“Yeah,” I say. “I can do that.”
I mean it. I’ve never wanted more from anyone, and I’m not going to start now.
She smiles, biting her lower lip in the process.
“Good,” she says.
I kiss her again.
This one is different. It’s hungrier and less careful. My hands slide along her sides, holding her there like I’m afraid she’ll disappear if I let go. She kisses me back just as hard, her fingers threading into my hair, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us.
Right now, with her mouth on mine and her body warm under my hands, I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give me, even if it is temporary. There’s not a person alive who would be able to resist giving Wesley exactly what she wants.
My mouth stays on hers until water spreads across the counter, seeping under my hands, from the glass we knocked over in our carelessness. She notices it at the same time I do, her body shifting as she breaks the kiss to glance down.
“I should probably get down before I end up soaked.”
“You’d look good wet.” I flash my cocky grin, the one that riles her up.
“I can’t believe you just said that.” Her cheeks flush, and she starts to slide off the counter, but I don’t let her.
“By now, you should know I’d say just about anything to throw you off balance.” My hands tighten, one at her waist, the other under her thigh. I lift her like she weighs nothing. She gasps and instinctively wraps her arms around my neck.
“Nathan,” she breathes, half laughing, half something else entirely.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, kissing her again before she can argue.
Her mouth opens under mine as I carry her away from the counter. My focus is narrowed to the heat of her body and the way she clings to me. Her legs hook around my hips without thinking, and their grip sends a jolt straight through me.
The couch comes up behind my knees.
I lower us down, until I’m sitting and she’s straddling me. Her breath is uneven, and her eyes are dark with desire and her signature restraint. The restraint that I love finding ways to break.
Then, as if making another decision, her hands latch onto the bottom of her shirt, sliding it up her body before tossing it onto the floor. My eyes search hers, filled with the desperate desire to touch her, to explore her body the way I’ve longed to.
She kisses me first this time, hands sliding into my hair, her mouth demanding and unrestrained. I groan, my fingers digging into her hips, pulling her closer until there’s no question about how much I want her.
I can’t believe she wants me, too.
Her hands slide on top of my own as she moves them slowly up her body, her bare skin soft and tempting in my grasp. I let her lead my hands up her stomach and across the outside of her bra. It’s a light blue, lacy bra that will forever be burned into my memory.
My control snaps, and I take it upon myself to continue my exploration.
“This is pretty.” I run my fingertips across the light blue material, savoring the way her skin prickles at the teasing touch. “If I’d known you wear lacy things like this, I’d have had you strip for me sooner.”
“What makes you think I would’ve let…”
Her words die in her throat as I lean forward, dragging my mouth over the fabric.
I grin against her chest, teeth grazing across her skin as I slide my hands around her back, unlatching her bra. “What were you saying?”
She starts to talk, but curses under her breath, eyes darkening when she sees me close my teeth around the front of her bra, dragging it away from her body and down her arms. My mouth waters at the sight of her bare breasts only inches from my face.
“Where’d all that attitude go, Wesley?” I lean forward, my tongue brushing across her nipple. She moans as I suck it into my mouth.
Her hips wiggle in my lap as she throws her head back. My body responds on its own, hips pressing more firmly against her, desperate for the drag of her jeans to create more friction against my cock.
I force myself to slow down, dragging my mouth up along her collarbone and against her neck. Her skin is warm under my lips, and I breathe her in, grounding myself in her scent. I plan to spend all night seeing how I can get the most controlled woman I’ve ever met to let go for me.
She shivers. “God, Nathan, I…” I cut her off, kissing her again, deeper this time, my hands sliding up her back, feeling every inch of tension and heat between us.
She rocks forward, her fingers creeping under my shirt, tracing their way up my spine, and setting my skin on fire. When they trail back down, she reaches for the hem and pulls it over my head.
Her eyes darken with desire. “Your body is unfair,” she says, voice breathless.
I smile against her skin. “As if every part of you isn’t fucking perfection.”
Her back presses into the couch as I roll on top of her, letting my weight press against her. A groan slips free from somewhere deep in my throat when her hips rise to meet me. The sound spurs her on, and she starts grinding against me, my cock straining against my sweatpants.
She’s clumsy now, fumbling with my waistband before sliding it down my thighs so that she can palm me through the thin fabric of my boxers.
Fuck. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe it feels this good. I don’t let myself think about what that might mean, instead opting to lose myself in her. In the way her eyes roam my body and the way her breath feels against my skin.
Her hand grips me and tugs, drawing a curse from my lips. I force myself to pull out of her grasp. Standing just long enough to get my sweatpants the rest of the way off.
I take a breath, pausing. I’m already too close to coming in my boxers at just the feel of her hand wrapped around me.
She watches me with her mouth parted as she lies across the couch. A vision of her on her knees in front of me with those lips parted for my cock flashes vividly, but right now, I have different ideas.