8. Nathan
NATHAN
“Why you keep looking at your…” Scottie waved at the phone in Nathan’s hand, his face a mix of annoyance and intrigue.
It was the longest sentence he’d attempted in three days and, despite a couple of missing words, it was an improvement.
He’d come out of the stroke and coma with weakness on his left side and aphasia, but the doctors were optimistic he’d be back to his pre-stroke self relatively fast due to his age and overall health.
“No reason,” Nathan replied, sliding it into his back pocket.
“Who?” he asked.
“It’s no one, Scottie, don’t worry about it.”
“Who?” he asked again, more forcefully this time.
The last thing Nathan wanted to do was talk about a hookup.
“Drop it, please.” He ran his hands over his face, exasperated with the entire situation.
He’d spent years not realizing how hard meeting someone had been for his brother.
Years of not realizing he wanted to meet someone but lacked whatever gene Nathan and Emma had gotten.
“A wo—” Scottie started to say, stuttering over the second half of the word before groaning and pressing himself back into his pillow, rolling his head so he wasn’t looking at Nathan.
“It’s nothing.”
Scottie looked back over, his blue eyes hard, mouth set in a grimace. “Go.” He wasn’t asking, he was pleading with him.
It felt like they’d taken two steps back in their relationship since the accident but Nathan didn’t argue, standing slowly. “I’ll be back on Sunday.”
“Don’t,” Scottie spat, his head turned away again, refusing to look at Nathan before he gave in and left his brother’s room.
“See anything you like?” Nathan asked the next night when he saw Octavia staring at the bookshelves flanking his TV.
Her head snapped in his direction and she shook it as she chewed. He’d convinced her to stay after they’d had sex. The promise of another round enticing her enough to sit through yet another dinner with him.
She sat on the opposite side of the couch in her bra and a pair of his boxers.
He’d worked up an appetite between an extra-long practice, time in the weight room, and then railing Octavia the minute they’d walked into the apartment, but he didn’t remember that as he stared at her, his appetite for one thing and one thing only replacing his need for food.
It didn’t make sense. They had this weird arrangement, had only met ten days earlier, and yet he kept wishing she’d stay the night again. He wished she’d be here when he got home from a road trip, already dreading the following week when they’d be playing in Florida and North Carolina.
He’d only mentioned her to Sami when he’d admitted feeling weird about the entire thing.
Sami had suggested that it was about what he was being told he couldn’t have versus what he actually wanted.
And as Nathan watched Octavia lift the chopsticks to her mouth again—her tongue sneaking out to catch a stray noodle—he couldn’t stop wondering if his friend had been right.
Maybe a short road trip would be a good way to quell the rapidly growing obsession he seemed to have for her.
“I’m away for the next week and a half,” he said, setting his container of pad thai down on the coffee table and resting his elbows on his knees.
“Um, okay,” she replied as if he’d just told her he loved jellyfish.
“Just in case you were in the mood, I won’t be around.” Fuck, he thought, this is so weird.
“Ah.” She nodded in understanding. “Good thing these work pretty well.” She wiggled her fingers out in front of her and he swallowed as he immediately imagined her in bed touching herself, his name on her lips as she came undone.
He wanted to know if she thought about him when she was alone. He wondered what she’d say if she knew how often he thought of her. She’d probably call the whole thing off if he went there.
“So,” she started, adding her half eaten food to the table and leaning back. “We haven’t really talked about, um…” For the first time since they’d met, she looked uncomfortable. “Exclusivity. I’m fine if you’re, you know, doing this with someone else but I’d like to know, for safety and all that.”
He was shaking his head before she finished. “Just you. I don’t really have time to carry on like this with multiple women.” Nathan cleared his throat. “Are y—”
“No. You’re the only one I’ve done this with. Casual sex I mean,” she quickly added. “But just so you know, if you meet someone on your trip, yo—”
“I won’t. Not because of you,” Nathan said, standing from the couch and collecting the takeout containers. “I don’t sleep around on the road. Too messy.”
He could have sworn she looked relieved, but then she looked away. “Have you read A Little Life?” Octavia asked, pointing at the shelves.
Nathan stood there looking surprised for a minute before following her finger. “No, my sister gave that to me last Christmas. She dared me not to cry.”
Octavia laughed. “Only a monster wouldn’t cry. Are you a monster, Nathan Albertson?”
“It’s really not fair that you know my whole name. Hell, you could know a hell of a lot more about me if you googled me, and I don’t know anything else about you other than your first name and that you’re a lawyer.”
She stood, walking slowly toward him, almost prowling. “I’ll give you a piece of information for every orgasm you give me, how’s that?”
Nathan practically threw down their leftovers and pulled her into him. “Do I get to count past ones?”
Octavia shook her head as she threw her arms around his neck, already prepared for him to lift her. “This is a new deal.”
He growled in frustration as he marched them to his bedroom, tossing her onto the bed and feeling an odd lightness when she giggled.
That night she cried out thirty as she came and then blue when she’d come again twenty minutes later. So Nathan fell asleep knowing two new pieces of information about Octavia last-name-still-to-be-determined.
They lost the first game in Tampa. Most of the team had gone out after the game to blow off steam, but Nathan just wanted to get back to his room and get back into A Little Life.
He’d thrown it into his bag as he was walking out yesterday on his way to the airport.
He usually slept on the plane or played poker with a couple of the guys, but when the book had caught his eye, he’d stopped to grab it.
He was twelve chapters in and all he wanted to do was keep reading. At eleven, he took a chance and sent a picture of him holding the book in bed to Octavia.
No tears yet.
They’ll come.
Do you need to?
Come?
Yeah.
I don’t know if I need to…
Do you want to?
You’re not sitting outside my house are you?
No Octavia, 30, favourite colour is blue, I don’t know where you live.
His phone rang, the Autumn leaf he’d set as her picture pulsing on his screen, and he felt giddy over the fact she was the one calling him and not the other way around.
“Do you just want me to come so you can find out something else about me?” she asked before he even had time to say hello.
“You act like it doesn’t benefit both of us.” Nathan laughed.
“I’m not sure it counts if you aren’t physically doing anything.” She sighed.
“Octavia?”
“Mmmhmm?”
“I don’t fucking care. Where are you?”
“I’m in my living room.”
“Where exactly in your living room?”
“I’m sitting in my big, cushy armchair.”
“Slide to the end and lean back,” Nathan demanded.
“And why should I listen to you?”
“Because I’m going to tell you exactly what I’d be doing to you if I was there right now. Slide to the end of the fucking chair, Octavia.”
When no response came, he began to worry that he’d gone too far. Maybe he was being too aggressive, but then he heard her move, heard the tiny catch in her breath.
“Okay.”
“Slide your hand into your panties and tell me how wet you are.” His hand had slipped into his boxer briefs without him realizing it—his cock already hard and dripping.
“What if I’m not wearing any?” she asked sweetly and he had to grip himself to keep from coming right then and there.
“Fuck, Octavia. What are you wearing?”
“Just a nightshirt.”
He tried and failed to keep from groaning. “Are you wet, Octavia?”
“Yes,” she whispered. She’d never sounded quite like this, like she was playing the submissive he’d never seen come out before. He wanted to see and not just hear her.
“I’m on my knees in front of you. My face buried in that sweet pussy, your fingers digging into my hair.” He heard her whimper and tightened his grip around his cock. “How many fingers do you want, Autumn girl?”
“Two,” came her breathy answer.
“Fuck yeah. You feel so good, dripping for me. I love how fucking wet you get, baby. You ready for something bigger?”
“Mmmhmm.” She moaned.
“Get on your knees and face the back of the chair, Octavia.” He listened as she moved around. Could practically see that perfect ass on display in front of him. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Now, be a good girl and hold on tight because I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll lose your goddamn mind.”
Nathan barely registered what he was saying, it was all his imagination pouring out in a stream of consciousness, the sound of Octavia’s moans and whimpers egging him on.
“I’m so close.” She panted.
“Me too, baby. Where do you want me to com—”
“Inside me!” Her voice strained and Nathan swore he could feel her pussy clench around his cock as she came. The phantom feeling triggered his own release, turning him into a gasping mess.
He woke the next morning, his phone next to him on the bed, his chest sticky from the night before, and the thought of being inside Octavia bare still on his mind. After he showered, he found a single text waiting for him.
Autumn
Sushi.