Southern Comfort (15 page)

For some reason he was trying his hardest to resist her. But where was the benefit in that? She could see none. He wanted her. She wanted him. It was as simple as that. Why shouldn’t they enjoy themselves? Hadn’t he’d been fussing for days that she didn’t know how to have a good time? This was the best time she’d had in a long while.

“Newland,” she started, her voice breaking at the end. “Please.”

His breath hitched. “Please what?” he whispered.

“Please make love to me.”

It was as if the dam broke. She could feel his resolve between them, then it was gone, and only sweet warmth lingered there.

She bucked against him again, and nearly came as he ground against her.

“Never in my life,” she rasped.

“I know,” he said. He lowered his head, his teeth scraping against one pebbled nipple.

When had this happened? When had he unhooked her bra? When had he pulled her dress aside? Pushed her bra up, revealing her straining breasts to him?

Why did it matter? she thought as his lips moved over that sensitive part. He trailed the line of kisses from one side to the other, cool air brushing against the wet trail he left. She was on fire, out of control, and she needed this burning in her to be extinguished. Now.

She reached for his waistband, fumbling with the button and trembling so badly she could barely work his zipper down. But she had to have him. Had to have him now.

She pulled on the offending fabric of his jeans and he sprang free. Success! She palmed him in one hand, feeling more powerful than she ever had as he sucked in a breath. She wanted this to last forever. She needed this to happen now. All the conflicts raging through her competed for top billing with her overwhelming desire to have him. They weren’t even undressed!

She didn’t care. It needed to happen and it needed to happen now.

She squeezed him, that silky skin over hard steel jerking in her hand as she applied the sweet pressure.

“Natalie,” he groaned.

“I want you,” she breathed.

He worked his way back up to her mouth, kissing her deeply as she toyed with him, running fingers along his length, testing, measuring, teasing.

“We have to slow down.”

She shook her head. “No. We need to go faster.”

Couldn’t he tell? Couldn’t he understand how important this was? How they couldn’t lose this momentum? She’d never felt this way in her life. And she had to grab it with both hands before it disappeared forever.

“Hold on,” he beseeched. “Condom.”

She stopped just briefly. “Do you have one?” She hadn’t thought about that. Did she have one? She couldn’t remember. Of course it was hard to hold any thought in her head when his warm weight was pressing her into the sofa cushions.

Did Aubie have one? He better not, she thought. She’d kill him if he did. Or maybe she would kill him if he didn’t. She couldn’t decide.

“Just a sec,” Newland said.

He shifted, his weight moving from one side to the other as he dug out his wallet.

She laughed as he retrieved the little foil packet and tossed his wallet to the floor. Some things just weren’t important right then.

“Give it.” She took it from him, opening the package as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. She reached between them, finding him with ease, and rolled the condom down him as he nibbled and kissed his way from her shoulder to her lips.

She held him in her hands, directing him where he needed to go, so ready to have him inside her.

“Your dress,” he rasped.

She shook her head. “It’s okay.” With one hand between them she moved the tiny crotch of her panties aside and lifted her hips, urging him where she needed him most.

He entered her, strong and full up to the hilt. She gasped. This. This was what she had been waiting for. Maybe even her whole life.

He stopped, his body trembling with the effort.

“Newland?” she whispered, the one word a question and a plea at the same time. She needed to know why he wasn’t moving. She needed him to take up that rhythm of old.

“Just give me a minute.” He shifted, driving deeper and nearly taking her breath away. His elbows braced on either side of her head. He stopped, allowing her breathing to return to an almost normal pattern. Then he pulled back and slammed into her again, driving her closer to the arm of the couch with each thrust. It was insane. It was insanity. It was exquisite.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him as close to her as she could. Over and over. Deeper and deeper until she thought she would scream from the pleasure of it all.

“Just … one … minute … ” he gritted, shifting his weight again to work one hand under her. He ran one finger from her tailbone, following that sweet crease until he touched where their bodies were joined. Then he dragged his thumb across that sweet spot, and Natalie shattered into a billion pieces. But even that was not to be enough for Newland. He drove into her hard, taking her breath. Then, wrapping one the arm around her waist, he switched their positions, pulling her above him.

The change drove him deeper and a strangled cry escaped her lips. He grasped her hips and lifted her, driving toward a place beyond her comprehension. Again she felt herself rising, rising above, higher and higher until with one final thrust he sent them both over the edge.

She collapsed on top of him, their breathing erratic, heavy and audible.

What just happened here? This was so not like her. On so many levels.

She pushed herself off him, only then realizing that she hadn’t bothered to take off her shoes.

“Natalie?”

She didn’t respond as she pulled her dress back into place and started for the bathroom.

• • •

Newland pushed himself up from the couch and started after her, before realizing that he had another stop to make first.

With a frustrated growl, he glanced around the apartment, then headed off into the doorway Natalie had disappeared through earlier.

It was a kitchen as he had suspected. Feeling beyond weird standing—naked—in a strange kitchen that belonged to a woman he had just met and peeling off a used condom …

He shook his head and went in search of the trashcan. He had to open two of the bottom counter doors before he found it tucked away under the sink. He disposed of the condom, washed his hands, then tucked himself back into his jeans.

It was almost embarrassing, this urgency to have her. But he knew she felt it too. Neither one of them had gotten remotely undressed, both still wore their shoes, nor had they made it off the couch. Where were the ground rules now?

He ran his hands through his hair and started after Natalie.

There were four doors down the hallway where she had disappeared. Two led to the bedrooms and were open. One other led to what appeared to be a linen closet. That left only one more.

He knocked lightly on the closed door. “Natalie?” No response. He knocked again. He had no idea what he was going to say. How do you say
Wow, thanks for the best sex of my life. That was great. I just hope you don’t regret it as much as I do
?
Hallmark didn’t exactly make a card for that. But why did he regret it? Because he was leaving? Because it seemed so impulsive? Or because he thought she regretted it?

“Natalie?” He rapped again.

“Go away,” came her muffled reply.

“You don’t mean that.” At least he hoped she didn’t.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, too bad. Because I’m not going anywhere. At least not until we talk.”

“I don’t want to talk,” she said.

“Too bad. Because I do.”

He could hear her rustling around inside the bathroom, but she didn’t come out. He heard water run, and what sounded like the flip of a towel ring when somebody stripped the hand towel from it. More water running, the toilet flush, and then nothing. He had a sinking suspicion that she had put down the lid on the toilet was just sitting there waiting on him to give up.

“I’m not leaving here, until we talk.”

“Not leaving from in front of the bathroom? Or the apartment?”

“Either.”

Tonight was a night of firsts. The first time he had ever had sex with his shoes on. The first time he had ever lost control. And the first time he’d stood outside a bathroom trying to talk to the woman he’d just made love with.

He shook his head. “Your aunt’s going to wonder what happened if we don’t come home tonight.”

That worked. She wrenched open the door, and he was ecstatic to see that she hadn’t been crying. He couldn’t have handled tears.

“Take my car to go back to Aunt Bitty’s. I’m staying here.” She went to shut the door back in his face again, but he stuck his foot in the way, effectively ending her efforts.

Well, mostly.

“Ow,” he cried as she pressed the door against his foot.

“Get out of the way,” she said.

“I just want to talk to you.”

“But I don’t want to talk.”

This was ridiculous. He shoved his shoulder against the door and popped it out of her grasp. “We’re not sixteen,” he said. “We should be able to talk about this. In fact, we
should
talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. We did everything right.” Then a horrified look descended on her features. “The condom didn’t break, did it?”

“Tell me that’s all you care about, and I’ll call you a liar.”

She seemed to crumple in front of him. As he suspected, she had put down the lid on the toilet seat. She collapsed back there like a dejected marionette abandoned by his operator.

“Natalie? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head again, but didn’t bother to raise her gaze to his. “That was a—”

“If you say mistake I swear I’ll—” He broke off as the sound came from the living room. He turned his attention back to her. “Does anybody else live here?”

A frown puckered her brow. “Just Aubie, but he should be at Aunt Bitty’s.” She jumped to her feet, smoothing her hands down her skirt. Since she’d been in the bathroom she’d had time to put everything back in the right place. And he had to say that it made him sad. He would like nothing more than a second chance at taking his time. But it seemed that was not in the cards tonight.

He walked back down the hallway, peeking around the corner in time to see Aubie let himself into the apartment. The mayor shut the door behind him, then turned around, noticing Newland for the first time.

“Yikes!” he screamed. “You scared me.” Aubie shook his head, then narrowed his gaze on Newland. “Wait. What are you doing here?”

How to answer that … How to answer that … “Your sister and I came to watch a movie?” He had not meant for the explanation to come out as a question, but it did.

Aubie crossed his arms and looked around the apartment noting several things, Newland was sure. The indentions on the couch, the crooked lay of the cushions.

Or maybe Newland was just being paranoid. How would Aubie know if anything had been going on between Newland and his sister?

There was no way.

Newland released his breath slowly so it didn’t come out as a sigh.

Aubie took two steps into the room and bent down to pick up something, holding it out to Newland between two fingers. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Not knowing what else to do, Newland took the condom wrapper from Natalie’s brother and managed to keep a straight face as the teenager pushed past him and made his way down the hall. A few minutes later, Newland heard the door to the bedroom shut, then what sounded suspiciously like gales of laughter.

“Tell me that wasn’t my brother.”

“Nope. That was Aubie.”

She closed her eyes. “I told you to tell me it
wasn’t
him.”

“Not in the habit of lying,” Newland said.

Natalie leveled her gaze on him as if to say,
You’re a tabloid reporter, really?

“There is one more thing,” he started.

She looked at him with those so blue eyes and he reconsidered his stance on lying.

“This.” He stepped forward and took one of her hands into his. With the other he pressed the condom wrapper inside and folded her fingers over it.

She didn’t have to see it to know. She closed her eyes again. He wasn’t sure but he thought she might be praying.

“Great,” she muttered. “Just great.”

“Where are you going?”

Natalie didn’t take time to answer. She grabbed her purse and headed for her car. She had to get out of there. And she had get out now.

A sense of urgency rose in her gut. She’d messed up. She’d messed up big time. She got to her car then stopped. She couldn’t leave Aubie at the apartment all by himself. He could barely get dressed in the morning without help. She turned around, nearly running over Newland as he stood directly behind her.

“Natalie! What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and started back toward the apartment door, barely aware that Newland was behind her every step. She just kept on walking through the living room down the hall to Aubie’s door.

“Aubie? Open up.”

No answer.

“Aubie?” She rattled his doorknob, but it was locked. “I know you’re in there. I’m leaving, but I expect you to be at Aunt Bitty’s in no less than two hours. Don’t turn on the stove and don’t open any windows.”

She turned on her heel and marched back through the apartment.

“Natalie?” Newland was right behind her, but she couldn’t stop. He didn’t understand. He wasn’t the one who let everything go. He would never understand how she felt. “Where are you going?” Newland asked again.

“Home.” She shook her head. “Aunt Bitty’s. I can’t let her stay there alone tonight with … you.” Her voice got small on that last word. She shook her head again, trying to clear her thoughts. But it was no use. Aunt Bitty was in no danger from Newland Tran. Of that much she was certain.

She closed her eyes and crumpled against the front of her car. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly chilled in the warm southern air.

It was too much. It was all just too much. Her chin dropped to her chest and tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Hey.” The voice was gentle, soft, and caring, but it only made her tears fall harder. “Hey,” Newland said again. He hooked the fingers of one hand under her chin and lifted it so he could meet her gaze.