Holden #3
“We’re not sleeping with a wall of pillows,” he said, taking another and chucking it across the room.
I scrambled to retrieve it, growing more and more annoyed. I put it back on the bed, back in place. Only for him to throw it again. When I bent forward to seize it, another pillow hit my ass.
I scowled and turned to face him, but when I did, he was biting back the sexiest grin.
“Oh. You’re going to pay for that,” I said, lobbing a pillow at his gorgeous face, but he caught it.
“Am I?” he taunted.
I grabbed another pillow just as he threw the first, hitting me in the side. Motherfucker. I jogged over to him and kept my pillow in hand, using it to swipe at him. But he was quicker than I’d expected, and he was already on his knees, moving across the bed.
“We’ll see who’s going to pay,” he said.
He stood on the other side of the enormous mattress, pillow in hand. Ready to battle. I debated my next move but when he lunged to get me, I jumped onto the mattress to give myself a higher vantage point.
I swung my pillow and clipped his face. But my satisfaction was short-lived. He chuckled darkly, and it ignited my core in the most delicious of ways. “You’re going down, Thorne.”
“Am I, Crawford?” I shifted from one foot to the other, ready to leap from the mattress.
I loved a good challenge. And Nate was definitely giving me one.
When he lunged at me, I jumped to the floor and scrambled away, laughing. I was fast, but he was cunning. And before I knew it, I’d taken two hits from the pillow.
Motherfucker was fast.
I was laughing so hard, I bent over to catch my breath.
I held up my hand, but he didn’t take any mercy on me, instead coming at me again and again with the pillow.
Sensing that he wasn’t going to relent, I dug deep, donning my alter ego as he had suggested.
I’d tried it during my workout earlier, and it had been surprisingly powerful.
My alter ego was still taking shape, but with her in mind, I straightened. With renewed vigor, I backed Nate toward the bed, pummeling him with my pillow. Getting out all my frustration and pent-up desire with every swipe.
Damn. My alter ego was kinda awesome.
He fell back on the mattress with an oomph, and I climbed on top of him, pillow in hand. Vengeance in my heart. I wasn’t thinking about anything but winning. At least not until I felt his erection dig into my underwear.
I gasped, planting my hands on his chest. Our pelvises kissing. Nate gripped my hips and peered up at me. And I was afraid to move.
I sucked in a breath and stilled as his hands steadied on my waist. For a minute, we just stared at each other, suspended in time.
Ever so slowly, he slid his hands up my sides, up my rib cage. His thumbs brushed the undersides of my breasts, and my skin broke out in goose bumps. I wanted him to touch me. I needed him to touch me.
But then I remembered how quickly he could switch off his feelings, shift his desire, and I climbed off him. I wasn’t going to wait for him reject me again.
“We should…” I glanced around the room, only then realizing what a mess we’d made. “We should clean up and go to sleep before we do something we’ll regret.”
I started picking up the pillows, but stilled when Nate came to stand behind me. His back was to my front, our reflection staring at us from the full-length mirror. His chest rose and fell, our breath the only sounds in the room as he stared at me, perhaps debating what to say, if anything.
“The only thing I regret, is stopping this morning. Because I want you.” His eyes were hooded, breathing shaky. “I shouldn’t, but I do.” He swallowed hard, meeting my eyes as his mouth dipped to my ear. “And I’m tired of holding back.”
“Nate,” I whispered, feeling as if we were on some precipice.
I wanted to tell him that I wanted him too, but I was scared.
Scared to let myself be vulnerable, especially with the sting of this morning’s rejection still fresh.
So, I resorted to humor, deflection. “I thought you said no more naked nannies.”
“You aren’t my nanny anymore.” He slid his hand over my stomach, pulling me to him. Letting me feel his arousal. “You’re my fiancée.”
My core ignited at the sound of those words from his lips, even as I tried to tell myself this was a terrible idea.
“Fake fiancée,” I corrected, trying to maintain the distinction as the lines blurred even more.
His eyes met mine in our reflection. He lifted my left hand, my engagement ring sparkling like a promise.
“The ring on your finger is mine.” He brought the back of it to his mouth for a kiss. Then he turned my hand and slid it down my stomach, down farther until I was cupping my pussy with his hand resting over mine. “This pussy should be mine too.”
Thank you so much for reading! Want more?
A protective billionaire hero who will do anything for his daughter, even pretend to be engaged to the nanny? Check. Fake engagement? Check. Only one bed? Hell yes! Going to great lengths to convince family and friends of their love and attraction? You better believe it.
Check out Reputation!