Made to Love (19 page)

This was real.

His hand reached over and touched my wrist,
and I stilled. 

“Stay with me.”

The words were uttered so softly I wasn’t
sure he’d spoken at all.  I looked up and met his gaze.  Everything around us,
the diners, the music, the loud calls back and forth from the kitchen, all of
it faded and it was just the two of us.  My heart danced crazily inside my
chest as he stared at me, unblinking, the heat of his skin burning my arm where
his hand still rested on it
.

Yeah.  Shit’s about to get very real.

“Okay,” I whispered.

BOOM!

I jumped at the sudden loud crack of thunder
from outside, and just like that, the mood was broken and the moment lost. 
Nathan peered over my head through the window outside and let go of my hand. 
“Holy shit!  It’s pouring outside!”

I rubbed my wrist, already missing his touch,
and turned to look behind me.  It was completely dark now, and rain fell from
the sky in heavy sheets.  “Greaaaat,” I groaned. 

Nathan grabbed our bill, and stood, holding
out his hand to me.  “Come on, let’s make a run for it.”

He paid, and we stood at the door, watching
as the rain blew across the parking lot, briefly illuminated by the lightening
that flashed across the sky.  He grasped my hand and glanced down at me out of
the corner of his eye.  “You ready?” he challenged.

I smiled up at him.  “Let’s go!”

He pushed open the door and we ran like mad
toward his SUV.  Rain poured over us, immediately soaking us to the skin. 
There was something about the moment that was so freeing, and so innocently
childlike, and I laughed as I stomped through a puddle, sending water up over
the both of us.

We reached the car, and he held open my door
as I clambered in.  Water dripped from my hair, running in rivulets over my
face and down my neck.  Nathan popped the back hatch, dug something out and
then climbed in beside me, a blanket in his hands.  “For emergencies,” he
explained as he shook it out and settled it over me.

“What about you?” 

He wiped his face and ran his hands through
his hair, setting it up in wet, spiky clumps all over his head.  “I’m good. 
Not even that wet,” he joked. 

I reached up and touched a raindrop that was
making its way down the side of his neck.  His pulse increased beneath my
fingertips, and before I could talk myself out of it, I leaned across the
console and let my tongue slide along his neck, tasting the falling raindrops
that cascaded down his skin.  Pressing a soft kiss there, I leaned back into my
seat.  “There.  All dry.”

Nathan

This woman was going to certainly be the
death of me.

I didn’t want the first time I fucked her to
be in the backseat of my Escalade, but if she kept doing things like licking my
neck, or arching her back in that wet shirt so I could clearly see her nipples,
that’s exactly what would happen. 

It was painstakingly clear she was edging us
out of the friend zone, after that searing kiss in her office this afternoon. 
I’d been willing to play the game, but never really thought we’d stay in that
zone for long.  The attraction between us was just too strong, swirling around
us, relentless in its pursuit of wearing down our resistance.  I’d known from
the moment I saw her that I wanted her in my bed, had made it my mission to get
her there.  It was inevitable, really. 

I had asked her to Boston on a whim, half
expecting her to tell me get lost.  We had spent time together this last week,
and I felt I was doing a pretty kick ass job of respecting her boundaries, but
somewhere along the way, those boundaries had begun to fade.  We needed to get
away from the city, away from our jobs, away from all the reasons why she
wouldn’t let me in.  I’d known instantly when I picked her up that I’d made the
right decision.  She’d seemed lighter, more open and less inclined to throw up
a counter attack to any of my advances. 

I wasn’t sure how far she’d let it go, but I
had a suspicion that this weekend could catapult us into what we’d been dancing
around for weeks. 

I watched as she settled into her seat,
blinking up at me through her rain soaked lashes.  And then, because I chose to
not wait until we reached my apartment, I reached over, placed a hand behind
her head and pressed her lips firmly to mine.  One kiss.  That was all.  Quick,
rough and just enough to let her know I couldn’t help myself.

Releasing her, I started the car and turned
up the heat.  It was the middle of June, but the rain was chilly.  She pulled
the blanket tighter around her as I pulled back onto the expressway,
effectively covering her drenched clothing and blocking my delicious view.  I
silently cursed myself for being a gentleman and giving her the damn blanket in
the first place.

“Your poor seats,” she murmured as she wiped
away droplets of water from the leather.

“Nah, they’ll be fine. “  I scratched the
back of my neck, where dripping water tickled as it made its way down inside my
shirt collar.  “I would suggest stopping and changing our clothes, but with it
still pouring out, it kinda defeats the purpose.  We’ve got another two hours
or so before we get there, but I’ll stop as soon as I can, okay?”

She shook her head.  “It’s okay.  Hang on.” 
She unbuckled her seatbelt and surprised me by climbing over the console into
the backseat.  She leaned over into the back, grabbed her small suitcase and
hoisted it over into the backseat next to her.  I struggled with maintaining an
eye on the road and checking out what was going on behind me.

Surely she wasn’t. . . .

She was.

She flipped open her suitcase, dug around and
pulled out some clothes.  Exactly what, I had no idea.  It was dark, and the
only time she wasn’t in complete shadow was when I was awarded an occasional
glimpse of her, thanks to the passing streetlights.  Her eyes met mine in the
rearview mirror during one of those times, and she hesitated.  The light
passed, and she was again shrouded in darkness.

I turned my attention back to the road,
willing myself to ignore the fact that she was changing in my back seat.  So
close, I could reach around and touch her.  Another streetlight approached and
I shamelessly took advantage, catching a glimpse of her ivory lace bra before
she tugged her sweatshirt down into place. 

Damn!

She climbed back into the front, and I felt,
rather than saw, her eyes on me.   “Do you want the blanket?”

“No, I’m fine.  Really,” I assured her.  

She pulled the blanket up over her legs, now
encased in dark capris, and angled herself toward me, her head resting on the
seat.  “So.”

I glanced her way out of the corner of my
eye.  “So, what?”

“We have a few more hours ahead of us; we
should talk about something, right?”

I stretched my arms out over the top of the
steering wheel.  “Okay.  What do you suggest we discuss?”

She shrugged.  I couldn’t see it, but I sensed
it.  “I don’t know.  Whatever.  Anything.”  There was that shrug again.  “Like,
where did you go to college?”

I raised an eyebrow.  Not what I’d expected
she’d ask, coming from a woman who remained rather tight-lipped about her own
past, but it was simple enough.  “I graduated from Columbia.  Our father went
there, as did his father before him.  It was expected that Thomas and I do the
same.”

“You didn’t want to go there, though?”

“I didn’t really care one way or another.  I
wasn’t exactly thinking of anything remotely resembling my future at the time. 
But, I did meet Jake there, so it all worked out.”

“Jake?”

“Jake is one of my best friends.”  I smiled
in the dark as my mind filtered through years of memories of the two of us back
in the day.  “We had some. . .good times, Jake and I.”  I wasn’t about to spill
the details on the partying, pranks and pussy we’d buried ourselves in during
the years we’d spent at college. 

Some things were better left unsaid.

Especially to her.

Silence fell between us, but for the distant
sounds of chatter coming from the radio I had turned on low.  And then, “Do you
and Jake still keep in contact?”

“Not as much as we’d like, but he just moved
back to the city so that’ll probably change.”  But enough about me.  “Your turn.”

She shifted in her seat.  “For what?” she
asked in feigned innocence.

“Any best friends you’ve left behind back
home?” 

She shifted again, as if she couldn’t get
comfortable in the seat.  I could feel her sudden nervousness and hated it. 
The woman obviously had her secrets.  Would it always be this way?  Me
desperate to know her, while she clammed up every time I asked a question she
didn’t like.  Could I be satisfied having her, but not really knowing her?

Three weeks ago, I would have said yes without
hesitation.  Now, I wasn’t so sure.

I pushed aside my thoughts as she finally
spoke.  “My mom is probably my best friend, so I guess the answer would be
yes.”  She turned her face and stared out the window.  “I’m not really the
friends type.”

I scoffed.  “I disagree.  What is this,
then?  You and me?”

She looked back at me.  “This?  This is
different.  You and I were never going to stay just friends, and we both know
it.”

My lips curved into a small smile as I
considered her words.  Of course we weren’t.  I’d known that, but had been
biding my time until she reached the same conclusion. 

But something about the words, the way she
said them, was off.  It partly sounded as if she considered the idea of nothing
more than friendship between us as absurd, which it was, and yet. . .it was
more than that. 

“And does that upset you?”  I was ready to
pull over and rethink the no fucking in the car promise I’d made myself
earlier, but even though she’d admitted to something more between us, her tone
suggested the idea made her . . .sad.

I had to be misreading her.   Right?

“No,” she said softly.  “But it does mean
that I need to tell you something.”

I squinted my eyes at her as I pushed damp
hair off my forehead.  I reached over to turn off the radio, sensing whatever
she was about to say was important to her.  There was nothing she could say to
me that would change the course of our impending relationship, and certainly
nothing that would account for, in my mind, her less than enthusiastic mood.  
“Okay,” I replied, a prickling sensation spreading across my shoulders.

She turned her head back toward the side
window.  I barreled down the expressway, doing my best to watch her and not end
us up in the guardrail at the same time.  She didn’t speak for several minutes,
and I noticed her hand clenching and unclenching a fist against her leg.  A far
cry from the woman who less than an hour ago was licking my neck.

Shit, what could possibly have her this
nervous?

I’d almost given up hope that she’d tell me
anything more, when she finally spoke.  “If we are going to do this, you need
to know that you cannot, under any circumstances, hold me, hug me, whatever, to
the point where my arms are trapped or constricted.  Ever.”  She said the words
with no emotion, in rapid staccato, almost as if reading or quoting them from
memory. 

Whatever I’d been thinking she’d say, it
definitely wasn’t this.

What the fuck?

I waited for her to go on, and when she
didn’t, I cleared my throat and gave a nervous laugh.  Which was ridiculous,
really.  Nothing about this was even slightly humorous.  “I don’t understand,”
I began.  “What do you—“

“Please don’t ask questions, because I can’t
answer any of them.  You just need to know before we go any further.”  She
moved then, and looked back at me in the dark.  “It’s how it has to be.”

How in the hell was I supposed to react to
this?  Any elation I’d felt at believing I was on the verge of officially
getting I’d wanted from her since day one paled in comparison to the
bewilderment I was now faced with.  She’d opened the door, but was still only
letting me in so far.  I still had restrictions.  I could fuck her, but I
couldn’t hold her? 

What kind of messed up shit was this? 

And what had happened to her to make her
enforce this nonsense?

I ran my fingers through my hair again. 
“Fuck, Reagan,” I said, my voice sounding more strained than I’d intended.  “I
don’t know what you want me to say.  I just . . .don’t. . .”

In all my years of relationships with women,
none had thrown me for a loop like this wisp of girl had just done.  She was
calling the shots and refusing me the opportunity to weigh in.  Had any of the
women from my past tried something like this, I’d have walked away instantly. 

Is that what I wanted?  To walk away from
Reagan?

“You don’t have to say anything.  And I’m
okay if you decide this isn’t what you want.”  Her voice sounded small,
defeated.

I wanted her.  But I didn’t know what that
meant anymore.

Reagan

We arrived at Nathan’s Boston apartment just
after one o’clock in the morning. 

The last hour of our trip had been spent in
silence, the mood somber and heavy, the only sounds coming from the radio that
Nathan had finally flipped back on. 

Perhaps my timing hadn’t been the greatest. 
But I wasn’t sure how much longer I could have held off having that
conversation with him.  We both knew that this weekend symbolized the next step
for us.  I had given up pretending I didn’t want it. 

And we’d started out so good.  The trip until
then had been light-hearted and surprisingly fun.  But as the miles fell
between Manhattan and Boston, I had become increasingly unsettled.  Not over
taking that next step, but over the very real fear of what would happen if he
again unknowingly did something to bring on another panic attack.  It wasn’t
fair to let him walk into this blind, yet I wasn’t ready to completely rip the
band aid off the wound of my broken past either.  So when conversation had
taken the turn it did, I seized the opportunity to recite the same speech I’d
given to every man I’d ever been involved with.  I practically had the thing
memorized.

As I’d expected, Nathan hadn’t been satisfied
with my vague explanation.   I’d sensed it in his tone when he first tried to
ask me why, and the way I’d constantly felt his eyes flickering to me
throughout the rest of the trip.  My stomach had remained in knots as I’d
waited for him to pursue the topic further, but he’d remained silent even
though I knew it was killing him to do so. 

And now we were here. 

I’d refused to make eye contact with him as
he’d helped carry my bags inside.   Tension swirled around us; the carefree
camaraderie between us long gone, replaced by uncertainty.  I had tried to
prepare myself for the possibility that Nathan would decide that entering into
a relationship with me was nothing short of ridiculous, had told myself I would
be okay because, really, nothing would change.  I would still be his friend
(hopefully?) and things could go on as before.  I told myself I was ready for
that, but now, standing here in his kitchen in the middle of the night, I was
suddenly very afraid I was not ready for that at all.

He flipped on a light in the hallway just off
the kitchen and turned toward me.  “You’re probably tired.  Come on, I’ll show
you where you can stay.”  He picked up my bags and headed down the hallway,
leaving me to follow behind.  He stopped at the first door on his left, and
turned on a lamp near the bed.   The guest room was simple, but expertly and
fashionably designed, and judging from the large computer desk and bookshelves
that spanned an entire wall, also doubled as his office. 

I wonder if this is what he had in mind when
he’d urged me to stay with him all those hours ago.

He placed my luggage on the bed and faced me,
running his hand through that thick, unruly hair of his.  He opened his mouth
as if to say something, but decided otherwise and shut it. 

This was stupid.  With my carefully phrased
words spoken in the car, I’d somehow managed to erase everything we’d built in
the last few weeks.  I tossed my purse beside my suitcase on the bed.  “Thank
you, Nathan.”  I stood by the bed, and crossed my arms over my chest.  “I know
this isn’t. . .I just. . .” I sighed heavily.  “Just thank you.”

He moved then, stalking toward me slowly, his
eyes never leaving my face.  He reached me, and placed a hand on my neck,
sliding it to the back under my hair.  He leaned down and kissed my forehead,
before pulling my head to his chest.  Bewildered, I said nothing, but instead
burrowed my nose in his shirt, almost dry now, taking in his scent.  I
hesitantly wrapped my arms around his waist, and I felt him relax against me. 

Perhaps he was just as nervous as I was.

“It’s gonna be okay.” His voice rumbled in
his chest against my ear. 

I leaned back slightly and look up at him. 
“Yeah?”

I wasn’t so sure, but his optimism made me
feel better.  Kind of.

He nodded once.  “Yeah,” he repeated.  His
eyes moved over my face, as if seeing me for the first time, and I knew there
was so much more he wanted to say.  The trouble was, this was something I
couldn’t talk about.  He leaned down and kissed my cheek and then stepped
back.  “Okay, then.  I’m gonna go.  There’s a bathroom right across the hall. 
Do you need anything?”

I shook my head and he moved toward the door. 
Once in the doorway, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder.  “Reagan?”

“Yes?”

“Goodnight,” he whispered and then left the
room, softly closing the door behind him.

I sat down on the bed with a whoosh.  This
was definitely not what
I’d
had in mind when I’d agreed to come to
Boston with him. 

I zipped open my suitcase and tossed aside
the sexy nightgown I’d packed specifically for Operation Seduction, and dug out
a pair of navy and aqua pajama shorts and a matching tank.  I yanked them on,
ignoring said nightgown where it lay, mocking me with its plum satin smile,
reminding me that I was fucked up and Nathan wasn’t interested.  I was here, in
his apartment, several hours away from prying eyes, and he’d deposited me in
the guest room and left. 

Of course, I did kinda drop a bit of a bomb
on him, but still.

I turned the light off, flipped back the
covers on the bed, and climbed in.  Tomorrow was a new day.  Things always
looked better in the morning, and perhaps it would be as Nathan said.  Perhaps
it would all be okay.

I had just closed my eyes when I heard the
unmistakable sound of a shower being turned on.

Holy shit! 

Nathan Preston was taking a shower in what
sounded like the next room over. . .hot water, soapy suds running over his
deliciously naked body. . .that tight ass—

I rolled over and buried my face in the
pillow, clenching my legs against the sudden heat that had pooled there.  The
faint sounds of music drifted over the running water and I heard the shower
door shut. 

He was naked. 

Wet. 

Naked.

How in the hell was I supposed to sleep with
that going on mere feet away from me?  Liquid heat pulsed between my legs and my
nipples ached.

I sat up and heaved a sigh.  I was nervous,
anxious, flushed and unbelievably horny.  Nathan was just in the other room. 
What was I doing here, alone, in the guest room? 

I was being a coward.  Any other man, and I’d
already be in his bed.  My previous relationships had been simple and
uncomplicated.  There hadn’t been all this tension, all this overwhelming
desire.  

Shallow and going nowhere, but uncomplicated.

Nathan was different.  He made me feel things
I’d never felt before, saw things, sensed things no one else ever had.  I was
beginning to believe he had the power to break my heart, and it scared the hell
out of me.

But the hard part was over.  Yeah, I knew
that eventually I would have to explain myself, and talk about my past, because
Nathan wasn’t going to be satisfied with being left in the dark for long, so
okay, maybe not all the hard stuff was over.  But I’d made the first step.  That
had to count for something, right?

And I wanted this. 
I wanted him
.

Flinging off the covers, I tip-toed to the
door and peered out.  The hall was dark, but I zeroed in on the room to my
left.  A faint glow of light showed under the door and I figured it had to be
his room.

Heart pounding heavily, and feeling almost
lightheaded at what I was about to do, I crossed the short distance, reached a
hand out to the door and silently turned the knob.

A small lamp burned in the far corner of the
room, and I became vaguely aware of the king sized mahogany bed and ridiculously
large flat screen hanging across from it.  But Nathan wasn’t in here. 

No, he was still in the shower. 

My eyes focused on the open door to the
master bath.  Again, the overhead lights weren’t on; just small lamps that sat on
each end of the vanity.  I couldn’t see the shower from where I stood, but I
could hear it, could hear the water as it cascaded off his body and hit against
the stone tiled floor.

The music was louder from inside the room,
and if it was even possible, my pulse quickened further as the opening drum
beats of John Legend’s “Made to Love” resonated around me. 

This was it.  I’d come this far, I had to see
it through.

I tread softly across the plush carpet to the
bathroom doorway and couldn’t stop my small gasp as I finally laid eyes on a
very naked Nathan.  The shower stall was huge, taking up one whole side of the
bathroom, and was encased in glass.  Steamy though the glass was, it didn’t
hide Nathan as he stood with his back to me, head bowed, hands braced on each
glass wall to the side of him.  Tattoos curled over his upper arms and back,
intricate swirls of dark ink that rippled along muscles, tight sinew stretching
and rolling beneath his skin as he brought one hand up to slick back his hair
as he straightened.  

As if sensing my presence, he abruptly turned
his upper body, glancing over his shoulder and catching me staring at his
beautifully sculpted naked ass.  I dragged my eyes up to meet his gaze.  He
made no further move, but his shoulders rose and fell heavily, as if he was
having difficulty breathing.

Without releasing his gaze, I slowly reached
up and yanked my tank top over my head, baring myself to him.  His eyes widened
briefly, but didn’t drop and instead remained steady on my own.  I hooked my
thumbs in the waistband of my pajama shorts and panties, pushing them down and
to the floor.  Again, his eyes flickered, but remained locked with mine.

I was completely naked, standing in Nathan’s
bathroom.  There was no going back from this.  I tentatively stepped forward
and pulled open the shower door, the loud drums streaming from his iPod seeming
to beat in tandem with my pounding heart. 

I stepped into the shower and pulled the door
shut behind me, steam from the hot water dancing across my skin as I inhaled
deeply, feeling as if I couldn’t quite catch my breath.

It was then that Nathan’s gaze fell, slowly
dragging along my entire length as he turned around entirely to face me.  I
swallowed hard as I took in the sight of his cock, huge, thick and already rock
hard, and my fingers itched to touch him. 

Our eyes collided again, neither of us having
yet said a word.  I knew what he was waiting for.  I had told him yes and no
with both my words and actions so many times, he needed me to be sure this
time.  I was here, which already said so much, but I would have to be the one
to continue making the first move.

I stepped closer, water pelting my face and
breasts, and touched a hand to his chest.  His pectoral muscles leaped at the
contact, and he dragged in his breath with a groan.  Hands still fisted at his
sides, he stared intently at me.  “Reagan,” he whispered, a little warning in
his voice that I should perhaps stop, and a whole lot of pleading that I
don’t.  “I don’t—“

I touched a finger to his lips.  “Don’t
talk.  Just fuck me, Nathan,” I pleaded back, my words coming out in short
breathless gasps.  It was hot in here, so hot, and my blood rushed through me,
centering and pulsating between my legs.    

I
needed
this.  And if he said no, I
wasn’t sure I would survive.

“Yes, ma’am,” he breathed in response.   He
took my face in his hands and began an assault of hot, wet kisses, his lips
moving over my own, to my jaw, neck, teeth nipping at my shoulder before
finding my mouth again. 

I slid both hands up his chest and around to
his back, feeling the hard muscles move beneath my fingertips.  His cock was
hard against my stomach, and I pressed myself against him tightly, feverish
with my desire to have him inside me. 

He tore his mouth from mine and glared down
at me, his eyes burning.  “I’m not sure I can be gentle,” he whispered, giving
me one last out if I wanted it.

My tongue flickered out and licked at water
drops on his nipple.  “I don’t want you to be.”

He at once lifted me up against him, and I
wrapped my legs around his waist.  Kicking open the shower door, he stumbled
out and staggered through the open doorway into the bedroom.  Goosebumps
pebbled across my skin at the sudden change in temperature.  I wiggled closer
to him, sucking his ear lobe into my mouth, craving the heat that was simmering
between us.

He dropped me roughly on the bed and I
whimpered in protest at the loss of contact.  He leaned over me, hands on the
bed beside me as I inched my way backwards, further up on the bed.  He
followed, on all fours above me, his lips curled into a predatory smile.  I
reached to bring his mouth back to mine, but he swatted my hands away and
leaned down and flicked my nipple with his tongue before drawing me into the
heat of his mouth.  He sucked hard and bit at my boob, sending a riotous tangle
of electric currents down my body. 

His hands and mouth were everywhere. 
Licking, biting, and sucking.  I shuddered and blindly tugged at his wet hair
as his mouth continued its descent down my body.  He tugged my legs further
apart and hesitated but a brief second before closing his mouth on my clit,
again licking, biting, and sucking.  My hips surged against his mouth and I
lifted my head to stare down at him in the soft light.  He opened his eyes and
stared back at me and I felt my muscles tighten, sensation barreling down my
legs.  There was something wildly sensual about locking eyes with a man who had
his mouth buried between your legs.  My toes curled into the comforter, and I
lifted my hips off the bed, feeling my stomach clench in anticipation of my
impending release.