Chapter 9 Roni
CHAPTER NINE
RONI
I wake up to the heavenly scent of coffee and cinnamon rolls. Stretching, I wonder where my caveman is. Then I hear a savage growl and realize Nathan is reading someone the riot act on the phone.
Another perfect day waking up in Nathan Brennan’s bed.
I take a second to let it sink in, just in case I’m dreaming.
Nope. There’s the silken tangle of expensive sheets, the faint bruises on my hips, and a distinct soreness in my girly bits.
Not a dream. This is my actual life now.
We’ve been living in our perfect dream world for a few days now, and I’m dreading when real life injects its ugly mug.
I roll out of bed, find one of Nathan’s T-shirts, and throw it on.
It reaches mid-thigh and still smells like him.
The combination of fancy cologne, fresh laundry, and a sinful undertone wakes up my hussy side.
I float toward the kitchen and discover Nathan growling into his cell phone as he takes cinnamon rolls out of the oven.
He pours coffee into a travel mug, wearing nothing but low-slung joggers that turn my insides to goo.
The grumpy look of a man who’s barely slept and has a million things to do turns into a bright smile when he glances up and sees me.
He doesn’t even try to hide how he checks me out, eyes going from my bare legs to my bedhead to my face like he’s trying to memorize every detail. Holy moly.
“You look better in that shirt than I do,” he says, voice a little rough. “But you’ll look even better without it.” He sets the oven tray on a hot pad and stalks over to me. He doesn’t waste time on words. He just leans in and kisses me, hot and deep, and my brain does a full system reboot.
I loop my arms around his neck and melt against him, desperate for more. This is the perfect way to wake up. He pulls back and leans his forehead against mine. “Good morning, baby.”
“Morning.” I smile back as he throws an arm around my shoulder. He leads me over to the kitchen counter like I might vanish if he lets go, and I can’t say I hate it. Actually, I kind of love it.
There’s something about the way Nathan is with me in the mornings that turns my insides to hot fudge. He still looks half asleep, hair a disaster, jaw covered in scruff, but he’s got that laser focus on me like there’s nothing else in the world.
Nathan pours me a massive mug of coffee, the good kind, not my usual budget blend, and fixes it exactly how I like without even asking. “What are your plans for the day?” he asks as he reaches for his own mug.
“I either need to go home and get ready for my vacation to end,” I admit, dreading the idea of leaving our perfect little bubble.
“Or I have to bring my stuff here.” I don’t mean it as a power move.
It’s just the thought I’m having. The thought I’ve been having since our first night together, if I’m being honest.
Nathan’s eyes go dark and hot, but he doesn’t pounce. Instead, he sets his jaw and says, “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” He disappears into his bedroom for a minute. When he comes back, he’s holding a little black credit card thingy.
He slides the key card across the counter, all slow and deliberate. “This is for you,” he says. “I can’t imagine trying to sleep without you in my arms or waking up without you.” I can’t really wrap my head around that either. “So, we’re going to move your stuff in here.” It all sounds so simple.
My hands actually shake as I pick up the key card. It’s heavier than it looks, and my mind fills with so many feelings I don’t even know what to do with them. “Are you really ready for this?”
Nathan’s mouth quirks up at the corner. “I wasted six years. I’m not waiting anymore.”
My chest does the thing where it wants to burst and collapse at the same time.
“Then let’s do it.” Nathan’s eyes practically ignite as he snatches the key card off the counter and lifts me onto the edge like I weigh nothing.
His hands are so big on my thighs that I almost forget how to breathe.
My butt hits the cold marble, and I squeak. He just grins, all wolf and wickedness.
“Good girl,” he growls, voice pure sin as he shoves my borrowed T-shirt up around my hips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
I try to come up with something clever to say, but all my brain cells are occupied with the sight of Nathan’s head dropping between my legs as if he can’t wait one more second.
He hooks his finger under the band of my panties and tugs them down, slowly and deliberately, eyes never leaving my face. I can’t look away. I’m hungry and nervous and five seconds from levitating right off the countertop.
Nathan lowers his head, and for a split second, I brace for him to say something sweet or romantic.
Nope. The man just buries his face between my thighs like he’s been starved for months.
He groans, the sound deep and rough, and the next thing I know, his tongue is gliding up my center so slowly, so devastatingly, my eyes roll back in my head.
Holy mother of cinnamon rolls.
My hips jerk against his mouth, and Nathan’s giant hands grip my thighs, holding me open and steady while he licks me.
The cold marble of the counter chills my bare ass, but it barely registers.
All I can think about is the heat of Nathan’s mouth and the way he devours me like I’m his own private dessert tray.
He slides a thick finger inside me, and I lose my freaking mind.
My thighs shake, and I grab the edge of the counter for dear life.
My head tips back as he circles my clit with his tongue and pumps his finger in and out, slow and deep, just how I like it.
My brain short-circuits. All I can do is moan his name and beg for more.
Nathan pulls away for a second, just long enough to watch me squirm. The look in his eyes is straight-up ravenous. He stands up, muscles flexing, and yanks down his joggers in one savage move. His cock springs free, and my entire body goes up in flames. Good lord.
He lines himself up and thrusts deep, filling me with one hard, perfect stroke. My breath catches in my throat, and I swear I see stars.
Oh. My. God.
Nathan pounds into me, hard and deep, and my brain just short-circuits. The cold marble under my ass. The heat of his hands sears my thighs. His cock stretches me so perfectly full I can’t even remember my own name. I lose it. Just absolutely lose it.
“Nathan,” I gasp, clutching his arms because I’m pretty sure if I let go, I’ll just float right off the counter and straight to heaven. “Oh, God, yes, don’t stop.”
He grins down at me, pure wickedness. He grabs my hips and slams in harder, and my head knocks gently against the cabinets, but I barely notice.
My body goes totally electric, all the way from my toes to the tips of my hair.
I wrap my legs around his waist and drag him even closer, greedy for every last inch. I want him deeper. Closer.
Nathan growls something filthy, voice all rough and desperate.
“Come for me, baby.” His words send a massive orgasm blasting straight through me.
I come so hard, the universe goes white around the edges.
Nathan grinds out my name, buries himself deep, and loses it right along with me.
His cock pulses and floods me with heat, like he’s trying to brand me from the inside out.
Nathan holds me tight, forehead pressed to mine. He’s breathing like he just ran a marathon. “Fucking hell,” he mutters, voice all wrecked and wild. “You’re perfect.”
I’m still floating when he scoops me off the counter like I weigh nothing. I squeak and cling to his neck, but he just grins and stalks straight to the bathroom. He sets me on my feet, strips the shirt right over my head, and flips on the shower. Hot water. Steamy. Heavenly.
Nathan backs me up against the tile. “Let’s get clean so I can dirty you up again.” Hell yes! I love the way he thinks.
After a sweaty afternoon hauling boxes and suitcases into his apartment, Nathan emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam and sandalwood cologne.
He buttons up a crisp black shirt that makes his shoulders look a mile wide, and runs his fingers through his damp hair.
"Call me if you need anything," he says, checking his Rolex.
"Anything at all." His dark eyes scan my face.
"Stop worrying." I follow him to the front door, my bare feet padding across the cool marble. "I'm going to unpack my collection of fuzzy socks and binge on trashy reality shows until my brain turns to mush."
"Good." He pulls me against him, one large hand splayed across the small of my back, the other cupping my cheek. His body radiates heat through the thin fabric of my T-shirt. “You know you can come down to the club any time, right?” His voice is a low, sexy rumble. “You never need an invite. Just show up and let the bouncers know you’re mine.”
Oh, wow. That does things to me. All sorts of dirty, possessive, can’t-catch-my-breath things.
My cheeks go up in flames, and I can’t stop grinning.
“I might actually take you up on that.” I poke him in the chest for good measure.
“Don’t be shocked when I show up down there, distracting you from actual work. ”
He growls in my ear, hands tightening on my butt. “I hope you do. I love having you in my club.”
My heart slams into my ribs. “You’re going to regret saying that when I start showing up every night, demanding attention.”
Nathan makes a sound low in his throat, somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “I’ll happily give you the attention.” His hand flexes on my butt, fingers digging in just enough to tell me he’s not joking, not even a little.
Oh, wow.
There goes my brain.
I’m about to tease him, but then he kisses me again, hard and fast, tongue sweeping across my bottom lip like he’s marking territory. My toes actually curl. When Nathan finally pulls back, I’m clinging to his broad shoulders, barely staying upright.
He doesn’t let go. Instead, he tucks a wild strand of hair behind my ear and drags his lips across my cheek, all slow and hungry. My head spins. I could get addicted to this. Actually, I think I already am. “I might come by.”
His hands linger on my hips, hot through the T-shirt, and he stares down at me like he’s memorizing every single detail. “Good.” His voice is all dark chocolate and promises.
Before I can come up with a reply, he kisses me again, tongue stroking into my mouth until I’m gasping and clutching at his chest for balance. Holy. Freaking. Crap.
Nathan finally pulls away with a little groan like he hates letting go. He rests his forehead on mine, breath coming hot and heavy. "I'll try not to wake you when I come home," he whispers, his breath warm against my mouth.
"You can wake me up," I say, even though what I really mean is: Please wake me up. He knows it, too; I see it in the way his mouth curves.
"We'll see." He smirks down at me, just for a second, looking like he's already won, before heading out the door with that easy confidence of his.