CHAPTER FIFTEEN #2
“Maybe you could do something similar. When the office rejects a permit, they want a modification, right? But you’re saying even your modifications are being rejected.
So you could start showing evidence of a similar project that was approved with the same environmental profile.
It’ll be harder for them to justify the rejection if you’re proving up and down that it should be approved and has been approved in the past. In fact, it would even look discriminatory. ”
Nash’s eyes flashed. “I like the sound of that. Prove they’re treating us differently.”
“And then go after them with everything you’ve got,” I said with a grin.
Nash scooped my hand into his, holding my gaze as he pressed a slow, meaningful kiss to the back of it. “You might be my life saver. You saw the angle I was missing. And now I have a plan of attack. Thank you, Clara.”
The gratitude in his deep voice combined with the way he was looking at me like I'd just given him the last sandwich on Earth made something warm and seductive bloom in my chest.
“You’re welcome. It’s easier to shoulder things together; didn’t someone extremely wise say that one?”
“Yeah, roughly fifteen minutes ago,” Nash said, one of those heartbreaker grins coming out to play. I sighed contentedly.
“Your jawline,” I murmured, then I caught myself. My eyes went wide as I saw realization creep across his face.
“What?”
I tutted, looking away. “Nothing.”
“Come on, what about my jawline?”
I felt the heat creeping into my cheeks, which just made me more embarrassed. I covered my face with my hands. “I didn’t mean to say anything. You just have a perfect jawline, okay? Sometimes when you smile at me like that, it’s hard to look at you.”
The genuine amusement on his face was so perfect I considered snapping a picture. But I didn’t want to dig myself an even deeper hole.
“You think I’m cute.” It was a fact, not a question.
“So?” I laughed into my hands.
“What’s the smile you like?” Nash started modeling different options. “Is it this one? Or maybe more like this.”
I clutched the sides of my face. “I feel like such a doofus.”
“I need to know, Clara, so I can use it against you at the right moment.”
That made us both burst into laughter. For a split second, I felt like I’d reached nirvana. Holy shit, this was paradise—Nash at my side, genuinely laughing and connecting, being fawned over, him buying plants for me, while actually contributing something helpful to his life.
Did he feel how perfect this was too?
Nash came around the table, sliding his hand over the dip in my hip. He brought his mouth close to my ear and whispered, “Just so you know, you have about ten different looks that could bring me to my knees. But I’m not going to tell you which ones.”
Every inch of my body buzzed after that comment. I tried to school my surprise and remain coy. But damnit, this man made it nearly impossible. Ten different looks? That meant he saw me. Catalogued me.
It meant he felt this too.
“Great. So we both have ammo for a rainy day,” I teased.
He kissed the top of my head. “Let’s get some food. We need to be ready for later.”
“What’s happening later?”
“You’ll see.” Nash wore a mischievous smile as he led me toward the buffet, where a tantalizing array of small plates and appetizers awaited us.
We picked through the offerings laid out on crisp white linens—delicate crostini topped with burrata and heirloom tomatoes, seared scallops with citrus beurre blanc, and more.
After we filled our bellies with the savory items, Nash moved his gaze out toward the gardens.
“We should go for a walk.”
“I’ll follow you anywhere,” I said, before I realized how that sounded. Heat crept into my cheeks as he cast me a sly look.
“Anywhere?” He laced his fingers between mine and led us down a path that curved away from the sale. After meandering down a few stone pathways, we came into the Rockefeller Rose Garden, which was verdant but not quite ready to bloom in this early spring.
“Here.” Nash slipped his arms around my waist, looking down at me with a hungry gaze. “Isn’t this nice?”
I wasn’t sure what he meant. This entire evening had been a dream, a fervent wish that I’d never dared utter because it seemed too impossible. Nice didn’t cover it. Nice was what I called a deli sandwich from the bodega down the street. This life with Nash was three rocket launches away from nice.
“It’s perfection,” I whispered, sliding my palms over his shirt. In the periphery, people drifted past, couples off exploring like we were. But nobody was close enough to see or hear us. “I could live in this garden year-round.”
“I’d have to live here with you then.” His easy smile made butterflies swarm my belly.
“Only until December 31,” I reminded him.
“We could stay longer.” His fingers slid over my neck, up into my hair. “Squat here for the rest of our lives.”
Laughter burst out of me. Nash looked pleased with himself, but his eyes went hooded. He dipped down, capturing my lips in a hot kiss. A little whimper escaped me as his fingertips dug into the back of my neck, sparks skating across my skin.
When we broke apart, Nash was breathing heavily. His hand drifted to my breast again, just like he’d done at Axis when we were performing for Haley Reeves. His thumb grazed my hard nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
“Ohh, here we go again,” I murmured, arching myself toward him.
“I’d fucking peel this dress off you with my teeth if it wouldn’t get us arrested in five minutes.” Nash cupped my tits through my dress, rubbing his thumbs over each of my nipples. I whimpered, squeezing my thighs together.
“Please, Nash.”
“Please what?” He squeezed the top of my tit. “Stop? Or keep going because it’s obvious how much you fucking love this?”
It was hard to form words as he continued to pinch and tease my nipples through the linen of the dress. I reached for the only tool I had—his cock.
“If you keep going…” I started, reaching in between our bodies to find his erection trapped behind the belt of his pants. “We might get arrested anyway.”
“We don’t need to be conspicuous,” he chided before planting a hot, wet kiss along my neck. “We can have all the fun we want without the police finding out.” He backed me up against a low stone bench. “Sit here.”
I plopped my butt down, barely registering the cold stone through the fog of my arousal. All I could see was the thick ridge of his cock near eye level, straining against his khaki pants.
“Oh, my,” I whispered, dragging my fingers along the bulge.
Nash looked transfixed as I leaned closer, bringing my lips close to the crotch of his pants. His eyes went hooded. “I thought you said you didn’t want the police here.”
“I’m not doing anything improper,” I said in my most demure voice while I palmed his hard-on, batting my eyes as I looked up at him.
He made a hungry sound in the back of his throat, cupping the side of my face. “This is a fucking dream.”
“It doesn’t have to be a dream later,” I teased, feeling the rush of power and control.
Nash was hooked. And I loved the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing he wanted in the entire world.
“I can unzip these pants and find out just how hard you get for me.” I increased the pressure of my palm as I spoke.
“And then I can drag my tongue from the base to the tip, and then I’ll put your whole head in my mouth, so softly at first—”
Nash groaned, his hips bucking slightly as I continued the pressure of my palm against his cock. “Jesus, Clara. If you aren’t careful…”
I grinned devilishly at him, using my whole hand to stroke him through his pants. He pushed his fingers into my hair at my neckline, making a soft fist.
“If I’m not careful, what? Should I stop feeling your rock-hard cock? Because I can’t right now.” The more I talked, the higher he went; I could see it in his fiery gaze. “It feels way too good. All I can do is think about how it’ll feel when you push it into my dripping wet pussy—”
Nash made a choking sound, his hips bucking. He grabbed my hand, stilling it against his erection. His body spasmed and then he locked eyes with me.
That’s when I knew.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Clara.”
“I was just having fun—”
He rubbed his face, a disbelieving laugh escaping him. “Fuck, that was hot. I didn’t think I’d come in my pants, though.”
Nash sat next to me. Then he looked over at me and burst into laughter.
“You’re the first man I’ve made come in his pants,” I informed him.
He squeezed my leg, leaning over to snag a kiss. “You look too fucking sexy in this dress. And with you looking up at me like you did…fuck, Clara. I could come in my pants again just thinking about it.”
I rolled my lips inward, trying not to squeal. Did I have that much power over this man? It had to be the sultry combination of the garden, the wine we’d drunk, the beautiful clothes…
“Maybe we should head back to the plant sale before that happens,” I suggested. “We haven’t had dessert, after all. They had that mousse that looked really good.”
“Mmm. I was envisioning a different dessert.”
I tapped my chin, looking toward the plant sale. “Well, I think they had a cheesecake, and maybe some sort of tart—”
“I want something warm. Wet. And salty-sweet.” Nash watched me with a look so magnetizing I couldn’t look away if my life depended on it. “Got any ideas?”
It took a bit too long for his meaning to sink in. Only when he slid a hand underneath the linen of my dress, scorching a path up along the side of my thigh, did I understand.
“Oh,” I breathed, tipping my head so he could brush his lips along my cheek. “I might know where to find something like that.”
“Artisanal. Organic. Homemade.” His smile grew with each additional word until I burst out laughing.
“You’re in luck. I do know where to find that dessert.” My heart was pounding now. “My friend Scarlett has some, I think.”
Nash’s eyes darkened, and he moved his mouth to my earlobe. “If you’re going by Scarlett tonight, does that mean we can leave immediately?”
I wished I could snap a picture of the smile he gave me before he caught my lips in a kiss. It was bliss. Desire. Freedom. Everything good about this arrangement that I’d never counted on. But that smile also spelled trouble.
Because there was nothing fake about this relationship for me. Not anymore.