Defending My Mobster (BWWM Romance) (32 page)

I found the hem of Nate’s shirt and worked my hands up his body. He pushed up for a second to allow me to pull the shirt over his head and drop it on the floor next to the bed. His skin was milky in the moonlight that streamed through the window.

I dragged my nails lightly down his chest and over his stomach. He had washboard abs. His body was taut and defined, lean and strong. He muscles held power, they weren’t just for show. I felt them rippling under the tips of my fingers.

Nate returned the favor. It wasn’t fair, after all, for me to wear a shirt when his was on the floor. He undid the buttons and peeled it off my shoulders. My bra was a wine red satin with black lace trims. He kissed all along the strips of lace, sometimes licking, leaving a snail trail of spit on my skin.

His hands reached around my back and undid my bra. I shrugged out of it.

My breasts sprang free, hanging in all their naked glory for Nate. He reached for me, his face serious in the almost-dark room. His fingers touched my skin with a warm rush, followed by the rough palm of his hand.

He massaged my breast, rubbing my erect nipple with his palm. With his mouth he found the other nipple, and circled it with his tongue. My body tightened by his stimulation. He closed his mouth over my nipple and sucked on it, still swirling his tongue. I moaned in my throat and pushed my fingers into his hair.

His hand let go of my breast and slid down, and he undid my jeans, pulling them over my legs. My underwear came down with it. He stretched out next to me, his body against mine, his skin searing hot. He caressed my thigh with a flat hand, sliding up on onto my hip. He pulled me onto my side so we faced each other, my breasts pushing against the bare skin on his chest. His hand slid back, and he grabbed my ass, massaging it, pulling my hips into his in a slow grind.

“You’re so sexy,” he whispered in the dark.

He kissed me before I had time to answer. I felt his cock against his jeans, rubbing against my pubic bone. He built up a storm between my legs, and I could feel myself getting wetter.

His mouth never left mine, not even when he let go of me and gently tipped me back onto my back. He slid his hand over my hip, his thumb dragging down the soft flesh right next to the bone, and a jolt of pleasure shot through my body. I moaned involuntarily.

He slid his hand further down, and I spread my legs a bit, giving him space. His hand cupped the whole of me, making me feel small and delicate. Then he pushed his fingers into the folds, dipped them inside of me, into my soft wet center, and slid them back up towards my clit.

I arched, pushing myself against his hand, and a surge of pleasure started at his fingers when he reached my clit and spread through my body like forest fire. My nerve endings were alive. I grabbed handfuls of the bedspread under me, and surrendered to him.

When I opened my eyes to look at his face, finding a small break in the waves of pleasure long enough to surface, he was smiling at me.

“What?” I said in a hoarse whisper, suddenly self-conscious.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. I smiled and closed my eyes again, letting the feeling take over.

He dragged me closer to the edge, keeping me there, letting me teeter, and then pulling me back. It was torture. Delicious, wild, irresistible torture. His lips met mine again, and he held me there in a balance between his mouth and his hands.

Then he stopped.

“Why are you stopping?” I asked, out of breath.

“Because I can’t stand it anymore,” he said. He undid his own jeans and wiggled out of them, losing his boxers too. He rolled on top of me. His full length of bare skin pushed up against mine. He was rock hard, his cock silky and smooth, and the tip leaking anticipation. He played with one of my thin braids, studying my face.

He shifted, placing his hips in between my legs and pushed the head of his cock against my entrance. I gasped and shuddered. His skin was hot.

Slowly he pushed into me, my inside yielding to accommodate him. He was bigger than I’d thought, and I could feel my walls clamp around him. He groaned and pushed in to the hilt. A tremor rippled over his skin, from his hips towards his outer extremities.

He pulled out, and the friction was almost like a scratch when there’s been an itch for too long – sweet relief, ecstasy well overdue.

He bucked his hips and pushed into me with deep strokes, his chest against my breasts, our breath mingling, with our parted lips so close to each other but not touching. His motion pushed the breath out of my lungs in time with his building rhythm.

I was delirious. I curled my hands on his back, my nails on his skin, and he groaned again, longer, more drawn out. My body moved up and down on the bed as he rocked against me, pushing me toward the edge again. This time it was deeper, more intense. My body was numb, all my focus on the sensation between my legs, inside me.

Nate pushed in and pulled out, harder, faster. His body was tight, every muscle tense and anticipating. A snake, coiled and ready to strike. And my own body was right there with it, screaming for everything he had to offer.

He coaxed the fire in me into a raging furnace, a searing heat that spread over my body and centralized in my core. Nate swelled, got bigger and harder inside of me until I wasn’t sure I couldn’t hold it anymore.

And then he released, filling me up even more than he already had. I could feel his thick liquid, coating my inner walls. His eyes were closed, his face pure bliss, and his body was poised over mine in a moment of frozen time.

Then he opened his eyes and came back to me, his eyes deep and intense, and smiling at me. He sighed, and slowly slid out. I whimpered when he did. The loss was physical.

“My god,” he whispered, lying on his back next to me. I smiled and tried to reach for a blanket.

“No, don’t,” he said. “Don’t cover up.”

I pulled back my hand, and turned on my side. Nate looked at me, eyes trailing slowly down my body. Then he rolled to me, pushing me back onto my back. His hand slipped in between my legs once more. His fingers knew where they wanted to be, and honed in on my clit right away. He circled it with two fingers, bringing back the frenzy for a third time. When my body shuddered, he put a finger on top of it, and pushed slightly. The sensation sent small shock waves across my body. He worked it from side to side, his eyes travelling down my body and back up.

My body shook in response to his fingers, my breathing rugged and irregular. He leaned forward and kissed my neck, sucking the skin softly. It was enough to push me over the edge.

The orgasm hit me out of left field, and rocked me off my axis. I shook and trembled, arching against his body. He held his hand in place, and kept his mouth in my neck, letting me ride out the wave of pleasure. My body coiled, released, exploded, softened, and turned into a puddle of molten caramel, hot sticky and sweet on the bed.

Finally he pulled his hand away, and collected me in his arms. With one hand he pulled a cover over us. I was drained, my body spent and my mind sufficiently numb. And for the first time in months, since I’d come over, I wasn’t lonely.

Chapter 4 - Nathan

Alyssa in my life was a whirlwind. A summer storm on a hot night. The fresh dew on the grass in spring time. Everything that was fresh and new and worth living for. She was different than any woman I’d known. She looked at life through a looking glass of color, a prism that refused the darkness. And she colored my life with the same light.

We kept it quiet. I didn’t want anyone in the office to know. Not just because of the flack they would give me, or because I was scared my work would be brought into question, but because it made it easier for her. It wasn’t wrong to date someone in the company as long as it wasn’t a conflict of interest, but this would be a racial thing as well. This was the new South Africa, but a lot of people still followed the old way, and interracial relationships were still bordering on taboo.

I didn’t tell my mother, either. I avoided her as much as I could. How would she take the news? I didn’t want to know. I couldn’t see a happy outcome. My mother was a rich woman, status was her main concern, and what I did influenced her public image just as much as what she did herself. My success in life had been her success, too.

Jeopardizing that now by introducing a woman that I knew she wouldn’t approve of? I didn’t want to burst the bubble she was in.

“Did you hear they’re letting a couple of people go?” Harry stood in my door on Friday afternoon.

“I heard,” I said.

“Do you know what’s going on?”

“I think Parker is struggling to make ends meet. Things haven’t been great lately and I hear from Meryl up in finances that Corralcor doesn’t want to pay out.”

“Economy’s a bitch.” Harry made himself comfortable in my office. “You’re not worried?”

I shook my head. “I’ve been here for seven years. There’s a lot of people that were hired after me. Last in, first out.”

That had been worrying me, though. Alyssa was one of the newest employees, and she wasn’t South African. Would Parker put her on the street? Where would she go? I didn’t want her to go home. I wanted her to stay.

I shook my head. We would cross that bridge when, no, if, we got there.

“Want to play a couple of holes tomorrow?” Harry asked, changing the topic. It was a work thing ,playing nine holes of golf on a Saturday morning kept my work life running smooth.

“Sorry, bud. I have plans.”

“You’ve said no the last three times! What’s with you?”

“Just busy,” I said, not making eye-contact.

“Ohhh,” Harry said. I groaned inwardly. “You’re seeing a girl!”

I shook my head, but still refused to look him in the eye. He walked to my desk and sat down in one of the chairs.

“Come on, spill. Who is it?”

“No one you know,” I said, trying to brush it off. I couldn’t deny it now.

“Liar, you’re married to your work. If it’s a woman, it’s someone that works here. Come on, you know you can’t hide anything from me.”

“Will you drop it?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable.

“Why? You want to keep her all to yourself?”

I shrugged. “Well, yeah, that would be nice.”

Harry leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

“Fine, if you’re going to be like this. I have other office gossip for you. If you won’t talk, I will.”

I leaned on my desk, happy for a change in topic.

“Okay, fill me in,” I said.

“Sarah says that new girl is a real pain in the ass.”

“What?”

“The new girl? The one Cole stuck under Sarah? Apparently she doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing.”

“She’s from America, isn’t she?” I asked, trying to stay casual about it. He was talking about Alyssa.

“Yeah. She was hired because she was so good, apparently. But Sarah says she has to do everything for her.”

“I wouldn’t believe anything Sarah says,” I said tightly.

Harry held up his hands in defense. “I’m just telling you what she said.” He shook his head. “It’s typical, you know. Damn Black Equity Act and all that jazz. All the right people get pushed out so the wrong ones can feel they’re being treated fairly for a change.”

“She’s not even from here!” I cried out. “She has nothing to do with democracy and the attempt to fix things.”

“I know right, that’s what I said. But Cole hired her, probably  because she’s black, and he won’t fire her because of the unions. You know how they get. We’re the minority now, my friend.”

“Well I think it’s bullshit. None of this has to be about skin color. Why does Sarah have to be a bitch about it?”

Harry pulled up his eyebrows.

“Relax man, I was just.."

“You were just what? Complaining about a woman you don’t know because she’s black and your lay was complaining about it?”

“Hey man, that’s not fair. Sarah’s not a lay..."

“You’re spreading pillow talk because you have nothing else to talk about other than office gossip after you get in there and satisfy your urge for acceptance.”

My rage was complete. It was a freight train, barreling through the careful constructions I’d set up to protect Alyssa. To protect our relationship.