14. Nate
Nate
Maybe I pushed too hard.
I wanted to make her feel better, to solve whatever issue was weighing on her, but as Rory’s gaze travels down my body, I wonder if I missed the mark.
A small smirk appears on her lips. And for the first time in years, I wonder if all this effort is for nothing.
Because the woman in front of me is way, way out of my league.
I swallow hard, trying not to let myself second-guess things, and remind myself that things are good.
She’s here with me. She loves me.
She loves me.
She loves me.
Repeating the words in my head doesn’t do much to assuage my fears, though. If anything, it reminds me that Rory could do so much better than me.
I need to up my game. I can’t lose her. Not again. Just looking at her makes my knees practically go weak. No matter how long we’ve known one another, she still manages to have this effect on me. It’s everything.
She’s always gorgeous, of course. But there’s something about the confident way she saunters in my direction, hips swaying, that adds yet another layer.
She’s not just pretty or even beautiful.
She’s fucking hot.
And she’s all mine.
Rory pauses in front of me.
“Need a shower?” she asks, a teasing lilt to her voice.
“Thought you might want to join me.”
“Hmm.” She tilts her head to one side, that tiny smile never leaving her face as she steps back, picks up her wineglass.
She keeps her gaze on mine while she runs her tongue along the rim.
Fuck me.
Rory hasn’t even touched me, but my cock is already hard.
She drops her gaze to my groin, smirks, and then sets down her wine before she reaches for the hem of her dress, just above the knee. She plays with the fabric for a minute, lifting it an inch, then two, then dropping it back down before pulling it all the way up and over her head.
Fuck.
My fingers itch to trace every inch of her creamy skin, from the roundness of her belly to her collarbone to the soft swell of her breasts where they threaten to spill out of her black underwire.
Behind her, the shower fills the room with steam. It swirls around her like a mystery as she dances her fingers across the waist of her underwear, then up to her shoulder.
My dick throbs painfully as she slips off one bra strap.
Finally—finally—she tosses her bra at my feet, those perfect tits on full display.
Rory runs her fingers along her collarbone, then between her breasts.
She knows exactly what she’s doing, teasing me like this. And I’m loving every second.
When she circles her nipples then pinches them between her fingers, she lets out a breathy moan. It’s barely audible with the water running, but it’s enough to set me on edge.
Then she slides her underwear down, a black bikini cut that makes her legs look insanely long, and I follow the fabric as she moves it down those perfect legs.
Rory makes eye contact as she picks up her wineglass, now completely naked.
She’s never been one for dirty talk, but somehow the silence does even more than any words could. The sexual tension buzzes between us, the air crackling with electricity.
No matter how many times I have her, I always want more. It’s never enough.
Rory gasps.
I follow her gaze to her chest—fuck, those tits—where a splash of red wine is dripping down her body.
“I made a mess,” she says, biting her lip.
She looks up at me through her lashes.
Rory has a tendency to pull her lower lip between her teeth when she’s nervous or unsure. It’s one of the things I love about her, how easy she is to read.
But this is all intentional.
“Hmm,” I say.
I could offer to clean her up with my tongue.
Haul her into the bedroom and show her what happens when you try to take control with a man like me.
Or I could let her keep playing this game.
“I’m all dirty,” she says.
“You are,” I agree. My voice is ragged. I’m barely holding on to my control here. “Maybe you should clean yourself up.”
“Probably.” She walks toward me, stopping when our bodies are only inches apart. “Maybe you could give me a hand with that.”
“Of course.” I pull open the shower door, letting her step in first.
The shower is massive, almost too big for daily use. But this is a vacation spot, and I’m sure the folks who pay the high price to rent the condo for a week enjoy the luxury.
I join Rory in the steam, pulling the glass door shut behind me. She’s standing beneath the water, the spray running down her perfect body. Her head is tipped back, her eyes closed, and she looks like a fucking goddess.
She stays there for a minute as I just watch, admiring every part of her. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to spend the rest of my life with this woman.
What did she say about a proposal? A bunch of yellow daisies? Hell, I’d buy an entire field of flowers if it would get her to marry me.
Tonight was the second time I’ve brought it up. Both times were impulsive, sure, but I was serious. I’ve wanted to marry Rory since our high school days.
But if she needs me to plan something out in order for her to say yes, then here we go.
She steps forward until the spray no longer runs into her face, wiping her eyes before she opens them and smiles at me. “There we go. So much better.”
“Definitely. Wouldn’t want you to have wine dripping down your body. Someone might think you’re a dirty girl and try to lick it off.”
Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second, the way they do whenever I take charge in the bedroom. She loves submitting to me.
But tonight, Rory seems determined to be the one in control, flicking her wet hair over her shoulder. “Maybe. But maybe I am a dirty girl.”
I move closer to her, pressing my body to hers. The hot water cascades over our skin.
“I think you want to be a dirty girl. I think you want to know what happens to girls like that.” I push a strand of wet hair away from her face. “To see if you like it.”
“Maybe I do.” She leans her chest against mine, then rises on her tiptoes to direct her whisper toward my ear. “Maybe I want to be your dirty girl.”
I can’t hold back the groan that escapes.
Fuck, I love when Rory is like this. I’m ready to love her through good times and bad, through sickness and in health, and through whatever this crazy life throws at us. I’ll be by her side no matter what comes our way.
But the one thing I know for certain is that I’ll never get enough of the goddess in front of me.
“What does my dirty girl need?” I murmur.
She stretches even farther up on her toes. “I want to taste you.”
Rory drops to her knees and tugs me closer with her hands behind my thighs, then grips my cock in her fist. I press my hands to the glass of the shower wall behind her.
She’s positioned us so the hot water beats against my back, tapping out a rhythm that’s almost hypnotic as I steady myself with a palm against the wall.
And when she swirls her tongue around my head, I need to hold on so my knees don’t buckle.
She teases me for a few more seconds, then takes me deep. I groan when my dick presses against the back of her throat.
Then she swallows me down, and the edges of my vision go black.
“Fuck, baby,” I grind out, the tight grip of her throat sucking away every last drop of my ability to think. “Oh my God.”
Rory pulls back and circles my tip with her tongue.
Smirking, she sits back on her heels. “You like that?”
Hell, do I ever.
In response, I reach down, gripping a handful of her wet hair in my fist. “You know I do, baby. Keep going.”
The warm heat of her mouth is everything.
“Rory. Fuck,” I manage.
She hollows her cheeks as she moves her mouth along my length. She licks, sucks, teases, like she’s enjoying ice cream or a lollipop, and I let her set the pace.
I tangle my fingers in her hair. She brings me to the edge over and over again, until I’m on the very precipice of exploding, only to pull away just when I’m ready to come.
My orgasm tingles at the base of my spine, poised to detonate.
Now I’m done playing games. It’s time to take back control.
I tighten my fist in Rory’s hair, a rush of heat coursing through my body at the way her eyes widen at the sharp bite of pain.
I hold her in place so she can’t move away as I press my cock into her mouth. She takes me in, accepting inch after inch. When I meet the resistance of her throat, I pause for just a second. Then I force her down onto my full length.
Fuck, this is amazing, and Rory is taking every inch of me so fucking deep.
I pull back, letting her rest for a second. “Where do you want me to come, babe?”
She pulls in a deep breath, hands on her thighs.
I tap my cock against her lips. I’m giving her a choice, but she won’t forget who’s in charge for now.
“You want me to come down your throat? Inside you? Or should I come on your tits to remind you that you’re my dirty girl?”
Hell, I like that idea.
Rory licks her lips and looks up at me. Her pupils are wide with lust, her mascara running down her cheeks, and she looks so freaking perfect.
“Make me your dirty girl.” She pushes her hair off her face. “Only yours, Nate. All yours.”
Fuck yes. “Open up, babe.”
She does, sucking me deep into her mouth once again as we fight for control like some perfectly choreographed dance.
As I use my grip on her hair to move her head along my length and control the pace, she varies the suction.
It feels like seconds before I’m there again, right on the edge, but this time she’s not going to hold me there.
I pull out of her mouth and use my own hand to pump my cock once, twice, three times until I’m coming, my seed spilling across her chest and tits.
“Fuck,” I finally manage. I rest my hands on the shower wall, breathing hard. “That was fucking amazing, Rory.”
She smirks. “Glad you liked it.”
I reach a hand out to help her to her feet. Once she’s under the water, I turn on the handheld sprayer, lift it from the wall, and use it to rinse my cum off her perfect skin.
Once she’s clean, I move the spray down across her belly and between her legs.
She gasps when the jet hits its target. “Nate! What are you doing?”
“I believe the kids call this returning the favor.”
“I’m okay. Really.” She moves her hand in a gesture that I think is meant to make me go away, but she can’t get rid of me that easily.
I’m not letting Rory go unsatisfied on a date night. Or any night, for that matter.
So instead of backing off, I back her up until her shoulder blades press against the tile.
Then I keep the showerhead aimed between her legs as I slide my fingers inside her and don’t let up until her muscles tighten and her orgasm coats my hand.
And when she’s finally done shivering in my arms, I turn off the water and pull a towel from the hook outside the shower door. I wrap it around her body and hold her close.
“You’re fucking amazing, Rory,” I whisper.
The steam is beginning to dissipate, the world around us starting to seep in, but I don’t want this moment to end. Not just yet.
“I love you,” she whispers.
I squeeze her even closer. “I got that impression. Why won’t you marry me, then?”
This gets a real laugh. “Because you didn’t actually propose, you goober.”
“I’d like to think I did. More than once. What else do you call it when someone asks you to marry them?”
Rory pushes me away playfully and opens the shower door. “Um, drunken rambling. Poor impulse control. Lack of filter between brain and mouth.”
She twists her towel around her hair, then grabs a dry one to wrap around her body.
I follow her every movement, unable to take my eyes off her. “Wouldn’t that be the best, though? If someone can’t hold it back? It proves that they really want to marry you.”
She points at me with one finger, her other hand holding the towel in place. “Perhaps. But if you want a real answer, I want a real proposal. You know what to do.”
“Maybe I should just knock you up, and we can have a shotgun wedding.”
I’m joking, but not really. I love the idea of getting Rory pregnant, of filling our home with tiny humans that are a perfect blend of the two of us.
She laughs, but there’s a split second of silence where it almost seems like she stiffens at my words. At least, I think there is. It’s gone so fast that I question if I imagined it.
“That’ll be the day. Can you imagine my dad’s face?” She taps the glass between us. “Do it right, beard boy.”
I run a hand over my facial hair as I watch her walk into the bedroom.
Do it right, huh?
I love a good challenge, that spark of competition that fuels me to go above and beyond, and my adrenaline is already ramping up as I think through all the ways that I can not only do it right, but blow her mind in the process.
I’m ready to do anything and everything for this woman.
But there’s a knot of uncertainty in my gut that won’t let go. Because like I said, I’ll do anything in my power to get this proposal right. To get her to say yes.
But sometimes you can do everything right and not get the outcome you want.
That’s my biggest fear. That I can put every last drop of effort into proposing, and it still won’t be enough.