Chapter 8
Cat
I wish I had another day here with Nick.
I love being here with him. When I leave tomorrow, I have to go back to pretending I’m not totally head over heels in love with him.
I love him even more after this weekend.
I see parts of him I’ve never seen before, the sweet caring side that turned his house into a Christmas wonderland for me, and the shadier, darker side.
I’m not so sure I like that side of him, but what I feel and the way he makes me feel when I’m with him, is better than I ever imagined.
My phone is vibrating again. I forgot to turn it back off.
I don’t need another incident like earlier today.
Everything has been going so well—I do not want a repeat of what happened.
I’m not even looking at it, I’m just turning it off.
Nick was in his office working for a while, but he’s in the shower now and I’m waiting for him so we can decide what to eat.
I’m starving. I never realized how much he works. Even when he’s off, he’s working.
I’m sitting on the couch looking at the tree we decorated together.
This is my favorite tree out of all the trees I’ve done.
I wasn’t feeling great before, about Christmas, which is a first for me.
Nick has changed that, and I can’t wait to spend Christmas with him, hopefully waking up with the man I love.
What can be better? I know what would make it better—but I’m going to take what I can get and hope for the best until the test comes back. I don’t need anything else.
“Have you decided what you want to eat?”
He saunters into the room with no shirt, towel around his neck, looking mouth wateringly good. His hair is a wet, curly mess, giving him a roguish look in pajama pants. He could have any girl here with him tonight, but he’s with me. Yeah, it feels good.
“No, I was waiting for you.” Popping off the couch, I wrap my hands around his waist. He puts his arms around me.
“Your hair is still wet.” I brush it back with my hand, raking my fingers through it.
“I couldn’t wait to be with you.”
Taking the towel, I sit down on the couch. “Sit!” I say, pointing down.
“Yes, ma’am.” He sits between my legs on the floor.
I run my fingers through his hair, loving the way it glides through my fingers before I start drying it with his towel.
“I like when you do that, it feels good.”
“You never had one of your countless number of bed partners do this for you?”
“No, we didn’t have a relationship like that. We didn’t have that kind of intimacy between us. All my bed partners were just that, nothing more.”
“What about Paige?” He leans his head back to look up at me, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Let’s not talk about her tonight; I’m in a good mood.”
He doesn’t want to talk about the only woman he let live with him.
And I didn’t know he lived with her until he mentioned it.
I wonder why? He had to have serious feelingd for her.
No woman has ever gotten that close to him before.
I’ll leave it alone for now, but I know she must have meant a lot more to him than he’ll admit.
I wonder how much more. “Okay. What do you feel like eating? I was thinking about maybe Italian?” I rake my hand through his almost dry hair.
“Are you upset?”
“No. We don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to. I’m not upset. Now, what are we going to eat?”
“If my girl wants Italian, we’re having Italian.”
After we eat the most extravagant takeout I’ve ever seen, complete with swan-shaped paper napkins, we decide to watch television lying on the couch, my back against his chest. As usual, we can’t decide what to watch.
Nothing has changed there. He wants to watch Sunday night football, and I want to watch anything else.
“How is it you never bothered to learn anything about football? You came to a lot of our games. What were you doing?”
“I was cheering when everyone else was. The only reason I came was to support you and Chris. And watch you run around in your tight pants. I guarantee you most of those girls were there to see hot guys. Why else would they be freezing their butts off? For the love of the game? I think not.”
“A lot of those girls knew about football—they bothered to learn something.”
“That’s because they were football groupies.
They would bend over backwards doing flips to learn calculus if it meant one of you would give them the time of day.
I didn’t have to be a groupie. All the guys on the team knew who I was, and they wouldn’t think about touching me because of you and Chris. ”
“Well, it turns out not all the guys,” he says dryly.
Oh no, here we go.
“Fake-ass Barry White.”
“What?” I twist my head around. “What does Barry White and Matt have to do with each other?” He rolls his eyes like I should know. Well, I don’t.
“That’s what the guys on the team called him.
He would single one girl out, buy them a drink, and spend the next hour making them feel like they were the hottest thing in the room.
Then he would drop his voice real low, lean in close like this…
” He puts his mouth against my ear. “Put his thumb in the palm of their hands and rub like this.” He takes my hand and shows me.
It feels good. “Then he’d whisper some Barry White shit in the girl’s ear, and that was it, the girl would do almost anything he wanted her to. ”
“What did he say?” I ask.
“He wouldn’t tell us. Didn’t want us stealing his lines. Eight out of ten times it worked though.”
“He never tried it with me.”
“That’s what you want, Cat?” He drops his voice low to sound like a cross between Barry White and Matt. “Baby girl. Is that what you really want to hear, sweating and panting on top of you? Baby girrrl.”
I make a face at him and get up. “You need to stop.” I try my hardest not to laugh, but the way he says it really is funny. At least he’s not angry, I don’t think. “Have fun watching the game by yourself, I’m going in the other room.”
“Which room, baby girrrl?”
I smile, keep walking, and yell, “Not funny.” I hear him yell back behind me, “Yeah, it is. Remember that picture of him, sweating all over you like a slimy wet slick back seal, the next time he calls you, baby girrrl!”
Two and a half hours later he walks into his bedroom. “How was the game?”
“My team won.” He pulls his shirt over his head and walks toward the foot of the bed.
“They kicked ass?”
“You know it. It would have been more fun if I wasn’t left all by myself.”
“Be nicer to me next time; maybe you’ll have some company.”
“Was I being mean to you?” He raises one eyebrow in question.
I should make him suffer the rest of the night while I sleep naked, rubbing against him. That would only make me suffer too. “Weren’t you?”
“I apologize if I hurt your feelings. Is there anything I could do to make you feel better?”
I shake my head like a little girl and give him the pouty lips. He gives me a broad smile.
“I like playful Cat. Can I play with you, Cat? What can I do to make you feel better?”
He doesn’t know, but underneath these covers I’m completely naked. I’m feeling brave tonight. I sit all the way up against the headboard and slowly pull the cover down over my bare breasts.
“Good God, those sure are perky. They’re standing at attention.”
“Are they?”
“Yes, ma’am. I might have to give you a 21-gun salute.”
“I don’t know about 21 but you are definitely ready to salute.
” I let my eyes trail down his firm chest to the bulge in his pants, and what a bulge it is.
He reaches down, grasps the end of the sheet in his hands and slowly slides it all the way down my body to the floor.
I try not to reach for the covers and pull it back over me.
I’ve never been so bold in my life. From the intense heat I see in his eyes, I know he likes it.
“Come here.” His voice is deep and low. “On your knees.” He stands at the end of the bed, waiting for me to follow his command. It’s a command, no doubt about that.
This is new for me. I have to try to be sexy when I’m not. And I don’t want to look stupid.
Pull yourself together, Cat! You can do this.
You can be sexy confident, even if you’re not.
Fake it. You started this, see it through.
I bite my bottom lip, rise up on my knees and hands, and crawl my way down the bed with my back arched, breasts out, and my head up, trying to give my best come-hither look.
I stop at the edge of the bed and rise up on my knees in front of him.
I don’t think I did too bad—he’s not laughing. He still looks turned on. When you’re up close and personal completely naked, you get the full effect of those eyes together with his body. Damn, all he has to do is look at me like that, and I know it’s going to be good.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Maybe I wasn’t as sexy as I thought I was.
He runs his fingers down between my breasts to the top of my clit, where he stops. “We were going at it pretty hard today, and last night. I know you’re not used to that.” He rubs a slow soft circle between my legs, barely touching me. “How does it feel?”
My skin is tingling from his touch. I want his finger to keep going till he slips it in me, but he doesn’t move.
Him being this concerned about me makes me want him even more.
Even if I wasn’t up to it, I would be for him.
I’m a little tender, but he doesn’t have to know that.
This is my last night with him, and I really want to be with him.
“It’s fine.” I put the palm of my hand on his chest and rake my nails down his chest. I watch his skin go taut over his jaw. I sink my fingers in the waist band of his pants and yank him to me.
“Damn, I want to ram my dick into you and fuck you.”