Chapter Seventeen #2
‘I’ll see you upstairs,’ said Lucy, rolling her eyes and no longer sure if the feeling of unsteadiness was due to wine or Nate.
Either way I’ll see you upstairs definitely sounded like some kind of invitation, and she couldn’t be sure if she’d done that on purpose.
She hurried up to the attic and wondered how she could make it feel less like a spooky cave, which wasn’t quite the vibe she was going for right now.
In the end she draped her purple bra over the torch to create a softer, more dissipated light. Still not exactly romantic, but better.
Lucy pulled on Monica’s pyjamas and hastily re-inflated both their beds, hoping Nate didn’t arrive in time to see her pumping madly in ugly polyester florals.
Should she keep them on, or get into bed naked, just in case?
Nate had definitely been giving off flirty energy just now, and she hadn’t exactly sent him packing.
But where did Sasha fit into all this? Much as she definitely wasn’t averse to pushing their two airbeds together, it wasn’t worth getting fired or punched over.
Lucy wriggled into bed, deciding to ditch the pyjama bottoms but keep the top on. Am I too drunk for this? she asked herself. Wine was definitely coursing through her veins, but the ache between her legs implied both body and brain were in a state of full consent.
She waited in anticipation of Nate’s footsteps on the stairs, pushing the idea of having sex with him around in her brain.
Do I actually fancy him, or has the intensity of this whole mountain hostage situation addled my brain?
Maybe it was like being trapped in a lift with someone for so long that you decide you might as well fuck them just to pass the time.
No, thought Lucy. Before this trip she’d dismissed him as dull, but now she’d got to know him a bit, she liked him. And she also definitely fancied him. He was funny and talented and complicated and undeniably hot.
Nate appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing nothing but a dark grey towel around his waist. He sat on the edge of Lucy’s bed, and there was a purpose and urgency to his movements, like he’d been thinking about it all through his shower and decided not to beat around the bush.
Lucy took in his naked chest and shoulders and narrow waist – he was less lean than Marco, but not as muscular as Anthony.
He reached out to take her hand, gently running his thumb across her palm, and for a second Lucy stopped breathing again.
‘Just before this gets entirely out of hand,’ she whispered, ‘I need to ask a question.’
‘I have condoms,’ said Nate, kissing the palm of Lucy’s hand and making her shiver. ‘I put the ones Kristoff supplied at dinner in my coat pocket. We can live the brand experience.’ Wine and bourbon and the dark privacy of the attic had made him more confident, and it was undeniably sexy.
‘That wasn’t the question,’ said Lucy, extracting her hand and sitting up to hug her knees. Under different circumstances she might have taken umbrage at the assumption that she was obviously up for sex, but the knowledge that they were both on the same wavelength was actually kind of thrilling.
‘OK,’ said Nate. ‘What’s your question?’
‘I thought you were seeing someone.’
‘That’s not a question.’
Lucy laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘Pedantry is NOT sexy, just so you know.’
‘I disagree,’ said Nate, shaking his head. ‘I’ve sat in lots of meetings where you’re being a massive pedant, and I find it incredibly sexy.’
Lucy’s mind boggled at the idea of Nate even looking at her in meetings, never mind thinking she was sexy. ‘OK, fine,’ she said. ‘I’ll be more specific. Do you have a girlfriend or not?’
‘No,’ said Nate. ‘Not . . . currently. I’m working on it.’
‘OK, that’s a weird answer.’
‘It’s true. I don’t officially have a girlfriend. Nobody is going to turn up at your door with a shotgun.’
What about unofficially? thought Lucy. She considered telling him that she’d seen him with Sasha at the hotel, but him questioning why she was lurking in corridors and peering around corners was guaranteed to kill what was left of the mood.
‘I just . . . I just want to be sure we both understand what this is. And that I’m not treading on anyone’s toes. ’
Nate smiled and took her hand again. ‘You’re definitely not. Do you want me to sign some release forms?’
Lucy pulled a face. ‘No, of course not.’
‘Then please let me kiss you,’ whispered Nate, leaning closer. ‘It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a really, really long time.’
‘Really?’ asked Lucy, the word catching in her throat.
‘Yes,’ said Nate, leaning in a little further.
‘I was too scared to tell you. But now I’m not.
’ His lips touched hers, and it felt like a wave of electricity from the tips of Lucy’s toes to the roots of her hair.
She locked into the moment, feeling every inch of Nate’s desire moving into her space, but determined to take it slowly and savour every second.
He kissed her harder, his hands trailing down her back and under the hem of her pyjama top.
‘Oh God,’ whispered Lucy as Nate’s warm fingers on her skin set off a whole box of fireworks in her chest. She yanked off the pyjama top and pulled him back onto the bed, frantically trying to loosen the towel from around his waist so she could feel all of him against her.
There was a small pop from the plug on the airbed, then a hiss as the mattress slowly started to deflate.
They both stared at each other as the bed gently lowered them to the floor like the world’s slowest lift.
‘This is . . . not ideal,’ said Nate, turning onto his back as the mattress continued to hiss and fart out the remaining air.
‘Shall we relocate to yours?’ suggested Lucy, as her backside slowly sank into the wooden floor.
‘No,’ said Nate, turning back to kiss her neck and trail his hands across her stomach. ‘Then we’ll have to pump them both up later, which I absolutely can’t be arsed to do.’
Lucy laughed, then gasped as his hands trailed lower.
It didn’t matter if this seduction scene wasn’t movie-perfect; it was absolutely in keeping with the drunk, chaotic madness of the day.
Being here with Nate felt like a blissful release from the stress and uncertainty of their situation, and the only thing she was absolutely certain of right now was that she wanted to be with him in this useless shitshow of a bed.
Not as a boyfriend, not for deep and meaningful conversations over nightcaps at 3 a.m., but just for them to be naked and alone together in this moment.
Nate drew away and paused for a moment, pulling back the duvet and drinking in her naked body.
‘Jesus,’ he muttered, the words catching in his throat.
The heat of his desire could have melted the entire mountain, and Lucy couldn’t wait any longer.
The towel disappeared, and now it was just her hands in his hair and his fingers carving a trail on her spine and his raw, urgent breathing and the taste of his lips, like wine and smoke and pure lust. When they finally came together it was nothing like the romantic seduction she imagined Nate favoured; it was a sweaty, potent coupling in a frantic and urgent tangle of limbs.
Lucy tried not to cry out as Nate’s tongue and fingers ravaged her all at once, but it was so intense, so incredibly fucking incredible, that she had to clamp her lips together so as not to let the entire house know that, right now, she and Nate had found each other and nothing else mattered.