Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
RACHEL
A s I pull up to Nick’s house, Tanner is walking down the driveway toward his car, dressed professionally in a button-down shirt and tie, with a laptop bag looped over his shoulder.
He stops when he sees me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Hey.”
“Hi.” I’m a bit taken aback by the edge of hostility surrounding him.
“Are you and Nick good?” he asks bluntly. “He asked me about a pair of—”
“Oh, yes, we’re fine.” I look around, praying Mrs. Montour won’t pop out of the bushes and overhear us. I don’t need the underwear escapade all over town. “It was, um… Have you talked to him since then?”
He shakes his head. “He was working yesterday. Only passed him just now when he got home before he headed in the shower.”
“I’m sure he’ll fill you in.”
He nods, still seeming wary. “Because you know he’d never cheat on you, right?”
My throat is suddenly thick with emotion. Tanner’s not chastising me exactly, but the effect is there. “I know.”
“He’s…” He blows out a breath. “He’s really gone for you. He’s never been like this about anyone else.”
I nod, glad Nick has someone in his life that has his back. “I feel the same way about him.”
“Oh.” That clears away his doubt. “Well, good. Hey, are you making dinner here again soon?”
I nearly laugh. That’s all it took to win him over? “Just tell Nick what you want and I’ll make it.”
He tells me he’s not picky and leaves for work with a giddy smile. It makes me wonder how badly the two of them eat on a regular basis.
When Nick answers the door, he immediately pulls me into a kiss. I sigh into him, loving his steady strength.
“What’s this?” he asks after a moment, discovering the box I’m holding when he tries to take my hand.
“A sampler for you. Things you haven’t tried yet from the bakery.” I open it, showing him the pastries. “A cherry turnover, a chocolate croissant, a cranberry orange scone, and a lemon poppyseed muffin. Maybe you’ll discover a new favorite.”
I love the lopsided grin he gives me. “Thank you. I can’t wait to try them.” He takes the box from me and sets it on the table. “But I don’t think anything can top my favorite dessert.”
“Which one is that?” He said he loved the danishes, but maybe the cinnamon rolls topped them.
“You.”
He’s not grinning anymore, completely serious as he gathers me close and kisses me again.
He said something similar last week, too, and it makes me melt inside.
I get lost in the rhythm of his lips over mine, only remembering minutes later when we’re both worked up what my purpose in coming over was.
“I meant for us to talk,” I say, rubbing my breasts against his chest, unable to help myself as lust rises to the forefront. This ever present need for him still hasn’t subsided.
“After,” he says, unzipping my jeans to stroke me over my panties.
I nod, figuring he wouldn’t be doing this if he had any serious qualms about us. My hands slide under his shirt, skipping up his flat stomach to his muscled chest, reveling in his warmth.
“I love your hands on me,” he murmurs, backing us up toward his room.
He closes the door behind us and strips off his shirt, then mine. My bra is next, and he cups my breasts briefly before finishing with the rest of my clothes.
His lips are on my shoulder, kissing any place they can reach. “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”
My hands run greedily over his back, my nails lightly scratching, a tremor making its way down his torso in response. “I’m yours.” God, that feels good to say.
He takes a shuddering breath. “Good. Because I belong to you. You know that, right?” He leans away, making eye contact with me, his expression solemn and weighty.
I nod, sensing how serious he is.
“I know this is still new, but for me… it’s forever. There’s never going to be anyone else. I want to make sure you know that.”
I take a deep breath, trying to fight back the tears that want to break through at his fervent words, and nod again. “It’s the same for me. You’ve ruined me for all other men.”
A smile touches his lips. “I love you.”
I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing him say that. “I love you, too.”
His lips move over mine, growing more intense the longer the kiss goes on, and he finally finishes undressing as he lays me down on the bed, his mouth tracing a path down my body.
He brings one of my legs up, knee bent, as he drapes my other leg over his back, and licks my pussy. My back bows in response, a strangled sound escaping me, and his hands move to my hips to hold me in place.
“My favorite dessert,” he murmurs. “It’s no contest.”
I grin, my breaths picking up as he continues using his tongue in slow, torturous circles, need curling through my belly. He teases my clit, then backs off, his mouth moving to my inner thighs to press kisses there.
I wait, my legs shaking, anticipation building as he finally makes his way back to my pussy, his tongue moving in longer, broader strokes I feel everywhere. I moan, spreading my legs wider, and he groans in response, increasing the pressure.
It’s just as good as last time, and when he sucks on my clit, first softly and then progressively harder, I lose it, unable to hold back any more.
“Like that,” I choke out, lifting myself into his face. “Just like that. Please.”
He does as I ask, keeping it steady as I come in a rush of sensation, waves of intensity washing over me, and I finally have to tug at his hair to get him to stop when it becomes too overwhelming.
“I’m so fucking hard right now,” he murmurs, pressing kisses up my stomach and the sensitive underside of my breasts. “You turn me on so much.”
Despite the heavy post-orgasm warmth filling me, there’s still a tingle down my spine seeing how desperate he is. “I’m ready for you.”
He nods eagerly and gets a condom, rolling it on with lightning speed, and positions himself sitting up against the headboard, then guides me to straddle him. He squeezes the globes of my ass as I slowly sink onto him, and I let out a soft moan when he’s all the way in. God, he fills me up so good.
His hands grip my waist, guiding me up and down as I begin to ride him, and he looks down, watching where his cock disappears inside me, over and over again.
“Fucking Christ, that’s hot.”
I love how his hands flex on me, like he can’t get enough, and when I pick up the pace, he looks back up at me, taking my mouth in a hot kiss.
“You’re the sexiest fantasy I’ve ever had come to life.”
There’s no mistaking he believes every word he’s saying, and there’s something about knowing he’s so into it that makes my normally reserved nature let go. It was the same as in the shower the other night, asking him to take me rough.
“Touch me,” I demand, dragging his hands up my body to close over my breasts.
He squeezes me, continuing to pump into me from below, and my hands reach out for his shoulders to steady myself, loving the shift of his hard muscles underneath my fingertips.
He shapes my weight, lust in his gaze as he watches what he’s doing, and brings me closer, bending his head to lap at my nipple.
My rhythm falters as I groan aloud, and my hand curls around the back of his neck, holding him in place as he works at my breast, turning me on all over again.
I adjust the way I rock my hips to be shorter and shallower, tucked up closer to him like this. He switches breasts, one hand supporting me as he leans me back for better access.
“You like that?” he whispers as he sucks softly, then nips at me.
“Yeah.” I’m lost in sensation, waiting to see what he’ll do next, and cry out with excitement as he gently bites me, tugging at the hard bud of my nipple with care. “Oh my God, yes. Keep doing that.”
He does, groaning with satisfaction, and there’s a tug deep in my belly, urging me to rock harder against him. I’ve never experienced anything like it, and I suspect it’s only my chemistry with Nick that makes it this good. He’s the only one who’s ever got me this hot and bothered.
And he’s mine. Forever. He said it himself.
Eventually, he has to stop because I’m bucking too hard, mindless with need, and he settles his hands back on my hips, setting a punishing rhythm for us.
“Ride me till you come,” he says, and I nod eagerly, wanting that. “You’re so wet, aren’t you?”
I give a shaky moan of assent. He’s practically lifting me up and down on his cock all by himself at this point, my legs trembling and starting to give out.
“You want me to play with your clit?” he asks, bringing a hand between us. “Will that get you there?”
I mumble something unintelligible, which he correctly interprets as a yes, and as his thumb finds me, I’m reminded of the last time we were in bed and how he made me come that way then, too. How good it was. How he somehow knows exactly what to do to make me—
“Yes,” I shout as everything in me clenches and releases.
“That’s it, baby. Let me feel that pussy come all over me.”
He keeps his thumb pressed against my clit as he guides me through my orgasm, and when I’m spent, he switches positions and lays me out on the bed, his big body pressing me into the mattress, doing all the work as he fucks me.
Tingly warmth travels through my veins, listening to him tell me how he loves to make me come. How he wants to wring every kind of sound out of me he can. How nothing makes him happier than to make me happy.
A tear leaks out of the corner of my eye, contentment overwhelming me, especially when he finds his own release. He lets out a gasping fuck , his hips jerking against mine. I hold him close, wanting to keep us connected as long as possible.
When he’s done, he sweeps a hand up and down my side, but doesn’t move away, as if he senses how much I need him.
“I love you,” he whispers, and I nod, afraid for a moment my throat is too tight to respond, but I’m able to say it back.
“Love you, too.”
We lay like that for I don’t know how long, quietly running our hands over each other, until he starts to go soft inside me. He grabs the condom at the base and pulls out, then goes to clean up in the bathroom.
I climb under the covers, sated and happy, and watch him greedily when he returns, comfortable with his nudity as he walks across the room and slips into bed next to me.
“What’s that smile for?” he asks.
“I’m so lucky to have you.”
He kisses me softly. “That’s how I feel, too.” He pulls me in close to him. “What was it you wanted to talk about earlier?”
I suddenly remember he just got off a twenty-four-hour shift. “You’re not too tired?”
“Nah. We didn’t have any calls last night, so I got some sleep.”
“Oh, good.” I fiddle with the edge of his comforter. I’m hesitant now to spoil this perfect bubble we’re in.
“Why don’t you start with what Mrs. Montour told you?” he asks. “Then move on to how you ended up at the auto repair shop.”
I blow out a relieved breath, glad he brought it up.
He listens as I relay everything that happened up until when he arrived, but that’s the easy part. The not so easy part is trying to explain how stupid I was.
“I hate to bring up bad memories,” I start, “but I want to apologize again for the other night. I know I said I hope you can forgive me on the voicemail, but—”
“Rachel.” He lifts my chin is I’m looking at him. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
“But—”
“Isn’t that what you said to me about the bakery fire?”
I open my mouth, then shut it. “That’s not the same at all.” There’s no way he can let me off the hook that easily.
“You let me know from the very beginning where your head was at.” His voice is so soft, so compassionate, it nearly undoes me. “That your ex had betrayed your trust and you still weren’t handling it well.”
A tear slips down my cheek. “I should’ve believed you.”
He shakes his head. “Kyle knew exactly what he was doing when he put that in my bed. How can I be mad at you when the same guy who created your insecurity then exploited it?”
I swipe at my cheek. “I feel stupid all over again.”
He wraps his arms around me, and I think his hug might rival Jae’s for making me feel better. “You’re not stupid. And it was a completely asinine plan on his part. No one could have expected that.”
I chuckle, though nothing about this is funny. “He’s not even smart. How does he keep doing this to me?”
“Put him out of your mind. He can’t come between us again.”
“No, he can’t,” I agree. “I’m sorry I let my fear cloud my judgment.
” My voice is barely above a whisper, the weight of the past few days still heavy on me.
Even if Nick has forgiven me, I know it’ll take some time to forgive myself.
“You talked before about wanting to earn my trust, and you have. A thousand times over. Nothing will shake it again.”
“Thank you.” His arms tighten around me, pulling me in like he’s anchoring himself there, and as he exhales, I feel the tension leaving him. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”
He did. And this time, I’m not either. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.
I press my ear to his chest, listening to the thud of his heart, steady and strong. Just like him.
If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that I’m never letting him go.