Blurred Truth (The Blurred Series Book 2) (12 page)

BOOK: Blurred Truth (The Blurred Series Book 2)
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She giggles before saying, “That’s rough. Sure I’ll come help you, Ryan. What are friends-slash-roommates for, if not for helping each other out of their clothes?”

I laugh, and when she places the flowers on the counter, I take her hand, leading her to my bedroom.

Closing my door behind us, I pin her to it with my body, causing her to gasp in surprise.

“God, I’ve missed these lips,” I say before kissing her like my life depends on it. Deep and slow.

My hands have a mind of their own, one grabbing her ass, causing her to moan into my mouth, the other gripping her bare thigh so she’ll hook her leg around my hip.

She goes one better and, using her arms wrapped around my neck as leverage, hops up, wrapping both thighs tightly around my waist.

That causes me to groan in appreciation. All that separates her from me now are some thin panties and my ever-tightening suit pants.

Breaking our heated kiss for a breath, I say, “Damn, baby. I wish your brother would fuck off.”

“I can hear you, shithead. I’m going into my room now. Where I can hear everything. The walls are really thin,” Nate yells from the hallway.

Dammit!

“I can be quiet if you can,” I whisper in Natalie’s ear as she breathes heavily in mine.

“I don’t think we should try our luck, Ryan,” she says softly, gripping me with her firm thighs. “Let’s just...cool off until he leaves the apartment. I don’t want him upset with us.”

I sigh, but she’s right. It will be easier for everyone if we just play by his rules and keep the peace.

“Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you want.” I kiss her forehead before setting her back down.

“Still need help with that suit?” she asks with a coy smile.

“I think it would be best if I get naked alone, all things considered,” I say dejectedly.

“You’re probably right,” she replies sympathetically. “I’m gonna go put those beautiful flowers in some water.”

And with that, she turns and leaves my bedroom, and I slump down on my bed, still in a full suit with a raging hard-on.

This sucks.

 

* * *

 

Natalie: I wish we could be alone together. I miss you.

 

It’s been two weeks since that day in my bedroom. Longer since that day in the shower. And Nate has hardly left the apartment the entire time. It’s pissing me the hell off, and it’s clearly getting to Natty, if her text is anything to go by.

 

Me: I know, baby. Me too. I miss you and all your lady parts.

 

Natalie: LOL! All my lady parts? You’re such a charmer.

 

Me: You have no idea.

 

Natalie: I have a pretty good idea…

 

Me: Oh, yeah?

 

Let’s see if she bites. She’s so sweet and innocent. She never initiates sexting, and she’s definitely not comfortable with phone sex...believe me, I’ve tried.

 

Natalie: I like when you touch my lady parts lol.

 

Me: Well, that’s good, because I LOVE touching them. And when you touch my man parts.

 

Natalie: I like touching your man parts.

 

Me: Jesus. This conversation is making me frustrated. We need to get your brother out of the apartment.

 

Natalie: I know! What should we do?

 

Me: Let me think about it.

 

So I do, and together, Natalie and I come up with a plan to get her cock-blocking brother out of the house.

Please, let this work.

Chapter 18

Today is when it all goes down...or up as the case may be.

Plan day.

Day of
the plan
.

I’ve wanted to just be able to kiss Natalie. Cause her to make those sexy little noises she makes when I touch her. But she’s hinted more than once that she might want more than we’ve done before.

That thought both excites me and scares the shit out of me.

If we do this, I’ll be taking something from her that I can never give back. And she doesn’t even know the whole truth yet. About me. About
Land
. About my past and how she’s irrevocably connected to it.

It would be wrong of me. Just like how I know I love her, but I can’t say it. I can’t say it because how can it really be true? How can you claim to love someone, but be keeping secrets from them?

I’m keeping them to protect her.

Shouldn’t she know the whole truth before making the decision to give me the thing most precious to her?

Maybe she should, but the thing is, if she gives it to me, it will become the most precious thing to
me
. Isn’t that what matters the most? That it goes to someone who wants to treasure it more than even the person it belongs to?

Fuck, I don’t know. All I know is this: I don’t have the strength to say no to her. If she wants me to take her virginity, I will. Because I’m weak and selfish, and because I know I’ll do everything I can to make it good for her.

I could tell her no. I could tell her I’m a lying piece of shit who doesn’t deserve her, then leave and save her from falling in love with someone like me. I could break her heart.

But then what? Who will she give herself to then? Some asshole at a bar one night when she’s drowning her sorrows and tired of waiting for Prince Charming? Some guy who knows all the right things to say to a girl to get her into his bed, only to leave her the next morning with a heartful of empty promises and a headful of shame?

No.

I won’t let that happen to her. Not her.

I may not deserve Natalie Connor. I might hurt her one day, if the truth catches up to me. But today I love her and my purpose in life is to make her happy. I might have some strikes against me, but I’m full of good intentions as far as she’s concerned.

I’m not all bad.

The bottom line? I can’t stand to see the look I know will form in her eyes if I tell her no.

I can’t, so I won’t.

 

* * *

 

When I get back from the gym, all is quiet.

No Nate.

Well, all is quiet except for the slightly flat singing coming from the bathroom.

“Too fucking cute,” I say to myself, smiling as I place my bag and keys down, then head in the direction of the oddly sweet-sounding racket.

When I reach the bathroom door, I can hear that she actually has music playing in there. It’s obvious she hasn’t heard me come in, so I’m willing to bet she’ll be embarrassed when she realizes I’ve heard her
singing
.

I knock twice then hear her gasp, then scrambling to turn the music off. I can’t help but laugh, though I try to contain it to save her pride.

“You nearly done in there, Celine?” I ask with a smile that I know she can hear in my voice.

“Not really. I’ve got to dry my hair and stuff,” she says shakily.

Is she...nervous?

“Leave it wet. I like it wet,” I say without humor, my tone thick with innuendo. Time to get her out of her own head and in the mood for whatever is going to happen later.

“Um...okay. I’ve still got some other stuff to do, though.”

Is she stalling?

“Okay. Take your time, babe,” I say sincerely. She can take all the time in the world if it will make her feel more comfortable.

 

Happy that I have a little more time to prepare, I quickly head to my bedroom, lighting the few candles I picked up the other day, and placing them around the room in non-fire-hazard locations. Then I go out to the living room, putting the Open Fire DVD on the flatscreen TV above the fireplace.

I know it’s ironic, but it’s hot as hades outside and I want the mood a burning fire creates.

Just call me Mr. Romance
.

I hit the remote control for the blinds and curtains to give the effect of it being dark outside, even though it’s quite the opposite, then look around the dimly lit room, feeling like it’s missing something.

I spot the candles on the coffee table and eye them for a minute.

Nate will cut you if you light those.

Meh. I’ll take my chances.

Lighting Nate’s precious, decorative candles, I sit on the couch and decide I’m finally happy with the way it all looks.

Perfect.

I’ve never actually done this for any other girl. There’s never been one who compelled me to do this. Compelled me to make her feel...special.

Does that make me an asshole? Maybe I should have been doing this for the girls before
her
. But why? Sure, it would have made them feel good, but it would have also given them the wrong idea and it would have been a lie. Because they weren’t special
to me
. I’m sure they will be to some other guy, but not this one.

There’s only one girl who fits that description.

As if on cue, she appears at the archway into the living room, clearing her throat to get my attention. I guess I was in my own little world. Being in hers is so much better, though. I wonder how long she was standing there before she drew me out of my thoughts?

“You look beautiful,” I say, leaning forward to get a better look. And she does look beautiful. The glow from the TV and candles making her olive skin almost shimmer.

“Thank you,” she responds shyly, clasping her hands behind her back, unmoving.

“Will you come and join me on the couch?”

“Okay.” She slowly makes her way over, and when she reaches me, I surprise her by taking her hands and pulling her into my lap, a small squeak of surprise bursting from her lips.

We laugh as her hands snake around my neck and her nose brushes the tip of mine.

“Alone at last,” I whisper.

“Yeah,” she whispers back. “This is a very romantic set-up you’ve got here.” Then a crackle from the TV catches her attention and she turns to see what caused it.

Turning back to me, she says, “You know there’s a real fireplace there, right?”

“And it’s like ninety degrees outside,” I clarify.

“Good point. Are those Nate’s decorative candles?”

Ugh, yeah, he’s gonna kill me.

“A man shouldn’t own decorative candles. They’re made for burning. And seducing beautiful women,” I mumble as I begin kissing her sweet-smelling neck.

“I’m sure Nate will be thrilled you’re using his
decorative
candles to seduce his little sister,” she responds with amusement in her tone.

“Can we stop talking about your brother? We finally got rid of him and I want to enjoy every moment with you,” I say between kisses.

“Okay. Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.” With that, I move my attention to her lips, just enjoying the taste of strawberries for a few moments.

When I lick at the seam of her mouth, she parts her lips and my tongue joins hers as my hands roam her waist and down to grip her hips.

When she moves her hands into my hair, I can’t hold back my eagerness. The absentminded move does something to me. I take the kiss up a notch, leaning back on the couch and moving her thighs to straddle my lap as I go.

The pretty dress she’s wearing fans out, hiding her bare skin, but nothing can hide the heat I feel through my jeans. Nothing but denim and cotton separating her from me. And when she grinds her hips ever-so-slightly, my already semi-hard cock takes notice.

Slowly, I move my hands up her silky-smooth thighs beneath the skirt of her dress, and when I reach her hips, I grip them firmly, halting any movement.

Breaking our kiss, I say, “This is gonna go from zero to a hundred real quick if you keep moving like that, Natty.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, cheeks flushing in the low light. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never done this,” she admits through heavy breaths, her eyes not meeting mine.

And then it hits me. This is all new for her. I’m basically her teacher. She’s the inexperienced schoolgirl and I’m the professor.

Kinky.

Clearing my head of those thoughts and holding back my smirk, I say, “There’s nothing to be sorry for, baby. I just don’t have a lot of self-control when it comes to you. You’re doing everything right, and that’s the problem.”

“Oh,” is all she says in response.

“I want to make everything special for you. I don’t want to rush. I want to take my time and savor every single moment. But, God help me, Natalie, I want to be inside you so damn bad right now it actually hurts.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. Just kiss me.”

 

As she devours my mouth, occasionally tugging my lip-ring with her teeth, my hands begin to wander and my fingers find their way to the edge of her panties. With that, a moan escapes her and it drives me fucking crazy.

Breaking the kiss, I ask, “Do you want me to touch you, Natalie?” as I move my lips to her neck, gently sucking her heated flesh.

If she says no, I’ll stop, and it will kill me.

“Hmm.”

“I want you to ask me. Say it,” I demand.

She has to say it. I have to know this is what she wants, without any ambiguity.

“Please! Please, touch me, Ryan,” she pleads, and it’s like the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard.

“Good girl.”

When I dip my finger beneath the fabric, I feel how turned on she is and it takes everything within me not to just throw her onto her back and do everything I’ve wanted for so long. But I keep it together, because it’s what she needs; what she deserves.

“Damn. You’re so ready and I’ve barely touched you,” I practically growl in her ear.

She only hums in agreement, lost for words, so I continue with gentle fingers until I’m slowly sliding one inside her.

Her body stiffens when she feels me there, so I ask, “Is this okay, baby?”

“Yes.” Her answer is immediate, and she nods her head to emphasize the answer.

Thank God.

As I continue pumping with my hand, she continues kissing me like her life depends on it, and I can barely catch a breath.

Best makeout session, ever.

If this is as far as it goes today, I'll be okay with that. Just knowing that I've made her feel good is enough. I don't need her to return the favor in order to be satisfied.

She moans into my mouth whilst grinding her hips, seeking more than what I’m giving her. So I begin to circle her clit with my thumb, never stopping the motion of my finger inside her.

“Oh, my God,” she whispers, as I move my kiss back to her neck.

 

After an unknown number of minutes, I can feel how close she is. The way her body is reacting to each move I make. I can’t wait to feel what’s about to happen.

“Come for me, Natalie,” I request, my voice hoarse with lust for her.

My words push her over the edge, and I still my movements so I can feel everything; the pulsing, the wetness, the shudders running through her as she whimpers in my arms.

My God, she’s so beautiful right now, it hurts.

 

As she slowly regains control of her breathing, I can’t decipher what she’s thinking. I can’t guess at what she wants to happen next, but her body is still telling me to keep going.

One thing I know for certain: if she’s losing her virginity today, it will be in my bed, not on a couch.

“I don’t want to do this here. Put your arms around my neck and hold on.”

She does as I say, wrapping her legs around my waist when I stand, and I continue to kiss her all the way to my bedroom, where I sit her on the bed before she takes a good look around the room.

“More candles? Anyone would think you planned this,” she says teasingly.

“I did,” I say with a wink and a smirk, before leaning down to kiss her, chastely.

I stand back up to remove my T-shirt, and when I’ve pulled it free from my body, Natalie’s sitting in the middle of my bed with a huge smile on her face, like she just won the lottery.

“Like what you see?”

“Your abs look even harder than the ones in the movies. I kind of want to lick them,” she admits.

That statement surprises me. She’s usually so shy and I have to coax her true thoughts from her head. But right now, she’s so turned on, it seems she doesn’t care what she’s saying, and I love it.

“You can, later. That’s not the only thing that’s hard, darlin’,” I say, glancing downward.

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