Thirteen #2
After saying goodnight to her relatives, she met him at the car and stashed a little bag in the back. His mind immediately made assumptions about what was inside said bag, but he didn’t ask.
They returned to Budapest and stopped at a small café. All he’d done was eat all day, but Nadia was hungry, so he had coffee while she devoured a baklava strudel.
“I miss this food,” she said as she pleasantly hummed over the last bite. “I make it at home, but it’s never as good.”
He knew of a small Hungarian restaurant in the city and made a mental note to take her there. He liked watching her eat—which might be a strange thing for a boyfriend to enjoy, but he didn’t care. “Do you eat horse?”
She laughed. “I’ve tried it, but I don’t like it. Horses are too pretty to eat.”
“You don’t think cows and pigs are pretty?”
“I do, but I like meat too much to give them up. What is the word for that? Húsev?.”
He chuckled. “Hypocrite.”
She lightly smacked his arm. “No. I’m trying to say meat eater.”
He arched a brow. “Carnivore?”
She smiled. “Yes, I am a big carnivore hypocrite.”
They walked the streets until dark and he enjoyed having such a well-informed tour guide. When they stood outside of the Four Seasons, she hesitated.
“I should probably get back.”
He thought about her bag in the car. Thought about how they’d slept in each other’s arms last night and how much he wanted to have her in his arms again. “Or you could stay.”
Her gaze searched his, the energy between them tightening. “Is that what you want?”
God, yes. “Only if you want to.”
She looked down, her eyes appearing troubled. “Promise me something, Elliot.”
“What?”
As she lifted her face, a deep V formed between her brows. “If I stay with you, will you still look at me the same in the morning?”
His chest tightened, the slight ache indefinable. Why would she think he would look at her any differently? “Nadia, there’s nothing you could do to make me look at you differently.”
“Promise me.”
Stepping closer, he whispered, “I promise. But we don’t have to do anything. You could just stay.”
The worry lines surrounding her eyes remained. “I like you, Elliot. So much it scares me. I don’t want to go too fast and spoil what we have.”
His breath caught as his own fears of inadequacy battled with excitement. As much as he wanted to see what it was like, he was terrified he’d ruin it as well. “We’ll take it slow. Let’s not decide until we get there.”
Appearing slightly relieved, she nodded. “I brought a bag.”
As she pulled her luggage out of the back, he took it from her and carried it into the hotel. Awareness settled over him, tense and prickly. Adrenaline heated his blood and his stomach swooped with every step closer to the room.
The waiting became agonizing as they took the elevator to the top floor. He needed more time to collect himself. He wasn’t sure what to expect once they were on the other side of the door.
“I think I need a shower,” he announced, figuring that would buy him ten minutes.
“Okay,” Her voice was just below a whisper. Maybe she was nervous, too.
Sliding his card through the key slot, he held the door for her. She stepped in and walked right to the window, giving him her back.
“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” he said, emptying his pockets on the dresser. She nodded, so he left her to her thoughts.
Although it seemed like he was taking an almost rude amount of time to shower, he felt unprepared to return to the room. Cursing under his breath, he stood in only a towel in the steamy bathroom, realizing the rest of his clothes were still on the chair.
His heart wouldn’t settle and his head seemed to be pulsing. Drips fell from the faucet every few seconds, a ticking clock waiting for him to make a damn move.
Taking an unsteady breath, he turned the knob and stepped onto the carpet. On the ottoman was a pile of neatly folded clothes and he recognized Nadia’s skirt—the one she’d been wearing.
Slowly rounding the corner, his steps staggered as she turned, wearing the hotel robe. His gaze drifted to the nightstand where she’d placed something and he swallowed thickly. That was definitely a condom.
He hesitated, unsure if he should make the first move or let her come to him. “Sorry I took so long.”
“Do you know what I like about you, Elliot?”
He hadn’t a clue. “No.”
“You’re genuine. You don’t say much and I know you are always thinking, but when you look at me I find you trying to see beneath the surface.
” Something sad flashed in her eyes and in that moment she was so strikingly stunning he could have fallen to his knees.
“Most men only care about the surface. Very few think I have depth.”
He swallowed. Of course, she had depth. He wanted to know everything about her. “I like getting to know you.” He looked down then returned his gaze to hers. “But I also think you’re the most beautiful woman in the entire world.”
Her mouth curved into a smile as a pink tinge crested her cheeks.
Her hands went to the belt of the robe as her fingers untethered the fabric.
His eyes widened as she parted the material, unveiling a smooth expanse of skin.
The flash of her bellybutton ring registered just before the material fell to the ground.
Dear God, she was totally naked. His mind blanked, as she stood before him utterly bare.
Blinking, catching his breath, his gaze wandered down her smooth belly landing on the V of her sex.
A chill swept over his shoulders as his body hardened.
His towel wasn’t much of a disguise for the response she caused in him.
Lifting his gaze to her face, he searched her eyes. There were no signs of laughter or teasing in her gaze. This was real. This woman—Nadia—was offering herself to him. Dear God, he was going to have a heart attack. Without thinking, his weight dropped to the ottoman and he sat.
“Elliot?”
“I just … need a minute.”
Silence. “Do you want me to leave?”
He shook his head. No, he wanted her to stay. He wanted to touch her and pleasure her better than any man ever had, but he didn’t have the first fucking clue how to do that.
Stupid! He’d been reading Hungarian on the plane when he should have been studying other topics.
But the possibility of actually sleeping with her never crossed his mind.
This moment was so far from the realm of realistic possibilities he could barely process it.
And now she was right in front of him—naked.
She shifted, hiding her sex with a turn of her lithe body as her hip jutted forward and her arms closed over her chest. “I’m sorry. I’ll—”
“Wait.”
She blinked at him, midway to picking up her robe.
Forcing himself to his feet, he pressed his lips tight. He couldn’t let her think she’d done anything wrong. This was his problem. And it was hardly a problem. Having the woman of his dreams naked in his hotel room was a complaint no man ever made.
Drawing in a steadying breath, he confessed, “I want to do this right, Nadia, but I don’t know how.”
Her relief was palpable as her posture eased and she exhaled. “Let it come to you. Natural.” Her feet whispered over the carpet as she approached slowly. Her fingers laced with his. “You do what feels right.”
Nothing had ever come to him without immense focus and well-calculated determination. “Tell me what to do. I want to know what you like.”
She held his hand and stepped closer to the bed. “I like when you touch me.”
His other hand lifted, first cupping her hip, and then gliding slowly to her breast. Her skin was like silk, her fragility never more clear than in that moment of matched vulnerability when he heard her breath catch. He drew in a sharp breath as her nipples pebbled under the faintest caress.
Directing his other arm, she placed his fingers over the soft patch of hair at her apex. “And here.”
His blood thickened. She was so warm, so delicate, slightly wet. His fingers slid lower as dewy heat greeted. She was soft, like a flower, and he feared bruising her.
Turning his palm, he gently cupped her breast as his thumb treaded lightly over her nipple. Sliding the finger of his other hand forward, her folds parted before his touch and she drew in a long breath.
He stilled, measuring her expression. “Is this okay?”
“Inside,” she whispered.
His brow tensed as he curved his finger, tucking it into her tight, hot slit and she moaned, catching her hands on his shoulders.
With very careful movements, he fed the finger deeper.
Heat engulfed his knuckle as her body tightened on his digit.
The deeper he moved his touch inside of her, the more her slick heat gripped him.
Her scent intensified, and his body reacted, tightening with dark yearning.
Lowering herself to the bed, she pulled him closer. “Don’t stop.”
Everything inside of him wanted to … ravage her, but he feared if he let his instincts take the lead he’d screw everything up and terrify her, never getting a moment like this back again.
Her fingers cupped his jaw, turning his face to her as she pressed her mouth to his. “It’s okay, Elliot. I like your fingers inside of me.” Her hand traced over his. “Deeper.”
His cock throbbed with desire. Breathing her in, his gaze caressed her breasts. He nudged his touch deeper and a soft gasp caught between them.
Her knees fell open as he traced her folds, sliding his finger back and inside again. “Kiss me,” she whispered.
His mouth closed over hers, greedy and savoring every taste of her. His fingers continued to slip through her arousal, fondling her delicate folds and getting lost in her heat. She moaned into his mouth, her hands tightening on his shoulders.
“More,” she pleaded.
He kissed a trail down her neck, not stopping until he reached her breasts. Her body writhed and arched beneath him as her hand tightened over the one between her legs, directing his touch deeper.