Chapter 8
8
N athan steps around me, shutting the door with a click. “ That is the two queen-size beds I asked for when I booked this room for the night.”
I’m not sure whether to laugh or punch his arm. “You said they only had one bed.”
He drops his bag at the foot of the bed in the far corner and toes his boots off, flashing me a tired smile. “I lied.”
“Why?”
He shrugs on his way to a closed door that must lead to the bathroom.
“Nathan?” I block him, his answer more important to me than it should be. “Why did you get two beds?”
He looks at me, his expression serious. “When we were staying with Simon and Matilda, we didn’t have a choice but to share. Now there is a choice. You want the shower first?”
I’m too distracted to think of showering, so I shake my head and step aside.
As I study the two beds, I wonder when Nathan Blackshaw will stop surprising me.
He could have booked a one bed. Easily. And he’d have gotten away with it. Even if I wanted to fight him about it, he must’ve known I wouldn’t have much choice unless I wanted to sleep in his car or outside on the street.
Yet he does this.
I’m still thinking hard when the bathroom door swings open, bumping my back. “Ah, still figuring out which bed you want?”
My eyes dip as Nathan steps around me.
I take one look at his bare chest as he stands with a towel wrapped around the lower half of his body, and I blurt out, “I’ll be in the shower.”
And I rush into the bathroom. To hide. Not to shower. Okay, to shower. Eventually. Mostly to hide my red cheeks from Nathan.
An hour later, we’re in our separate beds. I’ve borrowed a shirt from Nathan this time, and I didn’t even need to ask for it.
I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom with the spare toothbrush Nathan had picked up for us at a gas station shop when he knocked on the door and passed through a shirt I could wear to bed.
He didn’t even try to look at me through the gap in the door when I thought he would have.
The lights are off, and the quiet rumble from the highway a few feet away is more soothing than annoying.
I can’t sleep. Not that I’ve even attempted to shut my eyes, but I know it would be useless to even try.
I have questions.
“Nathan, are you asleep?”
“Yes,” is his amused response.
I roll my eyes and tell myself to just go to sleep. I do not need to know what I think I do. In fact, if I push to know more, I have a feeling it’s going to be harder to sleep than any easier.
I clear my throat. “So, this kiss…”
Sheets rustle and I’m sure he’s angling his head toward me. “What about it?”
“You were saying something about multi-tasking before.”
He whistles. “Ah. I told you far more than I should have. I definitely let myself get carried away. If you want to know more, it’ll have to be the real deal, Clara.”
I consider my response.
This kiss sounds like it might be good.
Maybe.
“Nathan?”
Loud snoring suddenly fills the room.
I glare in his direction. “Quit pretending to be asleep.”
The snoring continues.
I get up, flick on the lamp, and walk over to his side of the room.
He’s flat on his back, arms wide, and mouth gaping open.
It’s a good impression of a person asleep, but it’s not real.
“Nathan?” I nudge his shoulder.
He snores loud enough to wake a sleeping bear.
“ Nathan !” I yell in his face.
Nothing.
Annoyed, I get on the bed, straddling him.
His eyes snap open, and there’s not even a hint of tiredness in them.
“I knew you were faking.” I poke his chest.
“You’re sitting on me.” His voice is husky.
Probably not a good idea. But I’ve done it now, so I might as well make the best out of a terrible decision. It’s not the first time I’ve done something stupid, and I doubt it’ll be the last.
“Nope. You fell asleep when we were talking, so this is a dream.” It feels good to sit on Nathan Blackshaw. And it feels even better with him staring up at me like he really is in a dream.
“I didn’t fall asleep,” he says, clasping my hips with warm, strong hands.
Despite the dangers of letting this—whatever this is—continue, I don’t order him to unhand me.
“You definitely fell asleep, Blackshaw. We were talking about a certain kiss, then you started snoring and now… well, this is where we are. In dreamland.”
Nathan moves me onto my back. He rests his chin on his palm, but keeps his right hand on my hip. “I see. If this is a dream, whose dream is it?”
With the way he’s rubbing his thumb on my bare hip, it would definitely be mine.
If we’re both pretending this is a dream, then why not continue pretending for a little while longer? It’ll be a safe way to test the waters of seeing if Nathan Blackshaw kisses as well as I think he might. What happens in this motel room can stay in this motel room. Never to be spoken of ever again.
“Since you fell asleep, this must be your dream,” I tell him.
His eyes dip to my mouth and his gaze is hungry as he slowly shakes his head. “Nope. In my dream, things would not be progressing like this.”
“Then how would they?”
He lifts his head, and the corners of his eyes crease in a smile. “You’re determined to get me to spill all my secrets, aren’t you, peach?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I lie.
He grins at me. “So what happens in this dream of mine, then?”
I shrug, feigning a casualness I’m not even close to feeling. “Maybe we kiss.”
“Ah.” He takes his hand off my hip and strokes his chin thoughtfully. “So who does the kissing?”
“Depends,” I say, missing his touch immediately.
“See, I’m not convinced this is my dream, though a kiss from you is definitely in the realms of best dream ever.”
It’s a sweeter response than I was expecting. “But?”
“It would have to be something we both wanted.”
I fight to keep my hands to myself, strangling the urge to skim my fingers up his bare back. I’m not sure why I want to do it, but the urge is growing by the second. “So, what? We count to five and lean at the same time?”
He stares at me for a beat. His expression doesn’t change, but I get the very real sense he’s laughing at me.
“Stop it.” I poke his chest.
He snags my hand, brushes a kiss across my knuckles that makes me breathless, and returns my hand to the bed, smiling wryly. “You’re a woman of extremes. You threaten to shove me off the bed, now you want to kiss me. Life with you would never be boring, would it?”
I snort. “Where’s the fun in a boring life? I like to keep you on your toes, Blackshaw.”
“We’ll count to three,” he says. “Then we kiss.”
“And what will you be doing with your hand while we kiss?” I can’t help but ask.
He winks. “A man needs his secrets. You’ll find out when we kiss and not before.”
“Fine. I’m ready when you are.” I focus on his lips, squaring my shoulders as I prepare for this kiss.
“You look like you’re getting ready to go to war.” He grins. “I’ll count down.”
“Okay.”
“Three... Two… One.”
Neither of us moves.
I can’t help but laugh.
He arches a brow, though his eyes are sparkling. “What happened to leaning in?”
“Don’t look at me like I’m the only one who backed out. I had a feeling you weren’t being serious. I’m ready now. Go again.”
Still grinning, he counts down as he dips his head an inch, as if to show he’s serious this time. “Three. Two. One.”
I lean in.
My lips touch his and I realize I kissed him. He did not lean in at all.
I pull back, glaring. “Blackshaw, you were supposed to?—”
He slants his mouth over mine, giving me a kiss that is hot, sweet, and over far too soon. His hand tightens on my hip as he lifts his head and meets my gaze. “Still serious about this?”
My heart is in my throat, making it impossible to speak, so I nod instead.
He lowers his head.
This next kiss is soft and coaxing. As he angles his head, he runs the tip of his tongue across the seam of my mouth. Just like he promised when he was giving me the details of this kiss back in Rosenwood.
My hands move without conscious thought. I skim my fingers over his strong, naked back as I part my lips, moaning when he sweeps his tongue into my mouth.
He takes over the kiss, growling as he urges me closer to his side. That growl is as sexy as I’d hoped it would be, and I think I want to hear it again.
I just about lose my mind when his hand steals under my shirt, his strong fingers skimming my belly. He caresses my right breast, teasing the nipple before he massages me with a firm touch.
I run out of air. So does Nathan. He breaks the kiss, sucks in more air and then reclaims my lips a second later.
He repeats his careful attention on my left breast, leaving me writhing as he strokes his hand down, and his fingers dip under the band of my panties and between my thighs.
The man said he could multi task.
He was not wrong.
I part my legs, tighten my hands in his hair, and sink into potent kisses and delicious pleasure.
Wanting more touch, needing to hear another of those growls, I run my hands down his back, smiling at his groan as I slide my hand under his briefs and close my palm around him.
He breaks the kiss, breathing hard as he stares down at me.
“Peach?” His voice is nothing less than a hungry growl.
I form a fist around him, marveling at his thick girth as I stroke him, wanting to know how much he would stretch me. I’m thinking a lot. “Yeah?”
His eyes slam closed, and he tilts his head back, the muscles in his neck straining as he groans. “Probably not a good idea to keep doing that.”
I stroke him again, from base to tip, and he rolls his hips as if he wants more. “Why not?”
His eyes are burning as he slides his index finger inside me.
“ Oh .” I briefly forget what I was supposed to be doing as I part my legs for more.
He holds my gaze. “We can keep going like this until we both come.” He thrusts his finger into me again, timing his action to mine.
“Or?” I breathe, my heart racing.
“We stop playing.”
“What does serious look like?”
He pulls his hand from between my thighs and grips my panties. One hard tear, I’m bare from the waist down, and I swear I just felt feminism leave my body. I have one pair of panties to my name, and you know what? I’m not even pissed at Nathan for ripping them.
I take my hands off him, grab his brief and shove them down.
They’re thick cotton, not so easy to rip as the thin lace panties I was wearing.
From the way his nostrils flare, he must be smelling my arousal as he shoves them the rest of the way off.
We never look away.
“Your shirt,” he says as he dips his head and touches his lips to mine.
“What about it?” I wind my arms around him.
“Off.”
“Sure.” I mutter between kisses. “Why not?”
He rolls us so I’m on top, and makes quick work of yanking my shirt off me, then I’m back under him, his knees nudging my thighs wide as he braces himself over me.
The tip of him touches me and liquid pools within me.
“Still serious?” he asks.
I wrap my legs around his hips. “Definitely.”
And I gasp when he grips my wrists and lifts them, pinning them to the bed over my head.
There’s no silencing my moan as he rolls his hips and works himself into me, one perfect inch at a time.
“Blackshaw,” I moan, my head falling back as my body ripples around him. “Never stop what you’re doing.”
He’s smiling as his lips find mine. By the time he’s seated deep within me, neither of us is smiling.
“Peach?” he groans.
There’s no countdown needed this time as we lean toward each other for a lingering kiss. “You feel good.”
So good I’m already thinking about doing this again.
Nathan’s hands pin my wrists to the bed as he thrusts. Each hard thrust slides me up the bed a couple of inches and threatens to make me come apart.
I lift my hips to meet each stroke, moaning as my release draws closer. He picks up the pace, growling as he slams into me.
One perfect thrust sends me over the edge and as I shatter, my body clenches around him, trying to hold him deep.
He breaks the kiss, presses his mouth to my throat and strains deep inside me.
Neither of us moves for five minutes. Perspiration coats both our bodies, and he feels so good inside me that I make no move to pull away from him.
“Blackshaw?” I breathe.
He kisses my throat. “Peach?”
My heart is still racing as I come down from my orgasm, all the while struggling to make sense of what I’m feeling. Sleeping with Nathan was supposed to be a one time thing. No. We were just supposed to kiss. I would be disappointed in this kiss he’d built up into something exciting, and that would be that.
This is definitely not how I saw things going.
He lifts his head, and for two beats, we hold each other’s gaze.
“Clara?” he says softly.
I stroke my hand up his back, slide my palm around the nape of his neck, and gently press.
He smiles as his lips hover over mine. “My dream,” he says as his lips brush mine. “Definitely.”
I loop my arms around Nathan’s back, my eyes drifting closed as I lift my hips to meet each of his thrusts.
But he’s wrong. This has definitely entered the realms of my best dream ever, and I’m not sure I want it to end for a long while yet.