Promise Me This (7 page)

Nate

It felt like we were crossing a line here. But the way her tongue ran across that bottom lip. Goddamn.

“Of course I’m familiar with sexual frustration,” she said in a hoarse voice. “But I tend to get my needs met from the person I’m dating.”

I nodded. “Still dating Mr. No-Show?”

“Nah, that’s been over,” she said.

“Good,” I said, feeling protective and jealous all at once. “He wasn’t good enough for you.”

“I know,” she mouthed more than said. Because with the music pumping behind us we pretty much had to be good at lipreading. I signaled for the bartender and ordered us another round of beers.

I leaned in again. “So, did I solve the mystery for you?”

She shook her head. “Not exactly.”

My eyes slid up to hers. “What else?”

She spun her empty beer glass around on the bar. “The handcuffs.”

Well shit. But somehow I knew that subject would figure into this conversation. It was hanging thick as a rope between us.

“The handcuffs,” I said taking a deep breath and trying to remain as neutral as possible. “Just an overexuberant idea with an old girlfriend that went south fast.”

“So you’ve actually had a girlfriend?” she asked, more stunned by that revelation then the actual handcuffs.

“Sure, I have.” I hated that the idea of me dating someone was such a surprise to her. But I guess it made a lot of sense. I’d never once talked about anyone significant in front of her.

“So what happened to you guys?”

“She was my high school girlfriend. And I guess we just drifted apart.”
After she thought I’d lost my mind and had turned into a sexual deviant.

It was time for me to get off the hot seat. To turn the tables on her. “What about you?”

She took a sip of the new beer the bartender had placed in front of her. “What about me?”

“Didn’t you say you’ve used some handcuffs?”

“I’m not sure you want to know, Square,” she said, a smirk hanging from her lips. “Might be too wild for you. When I used them it wasn’t just some exuberant idea.”

I tried to control my breathing because I sure as hell couldn’t control the blood rushing straight to my dick. “I’m ready. Lay it on me.”

Her eyes flared for a brief moment and then she sighed, hunching over in her seat.

“What exactly do you want to know?”

What the hell kind of question was that? Was there more than one handcuff incident? Fuck, did I even want to know? It might only serve to fuel my fantasies. “Um,” I said, my throat suddenly dry. “So you’ve done that before?”

“What, been handcuffed?” she said. “Sure, why not? I’ve tried lots of things.”

Fuck me. My pants tightened uncomfortably.

“So only that one time for you, huh, Square?”

My heart was battering up against my ribcage, my foot rattling the barstool. I needed to squash this conversation right now.

“Yep,” I said, not meeting her eyes. “It’s really not my thing.”

At least I was being truthful about that first part.

“You’re living up to your nickname,” she said with a wink. And quite possibly just then, I might have seen a flash of disappointment in her eyes. “Too bad for that monster you say lives in your pants.”

Holy fuck, now I was hard as a fucking steel rod. I turned away and adjusted myself in my seat.

Here was a girl who’d actually admitted to being adventurous and I was staying overnight in a motel with her. Ah hell. I needed rein in all of my dirty thoughts to get through this weekend because this girl was one huge turn-on after another.

The difference was: she may have tried things with her rough-and-tumble men, but she’d never been with someone like me—someone who was terrified of unleashing it all. Of not being able to stop once it was out there. Of looking at myself in the mirror and seeing that I’d become my father and my brother all rolled together.

“Okay to ask another query?” she said, her mouth suddenly by my cheek. Goddamn this girl would be the death of me.

My heart prickled in my chest anticipating her next question. “Go for it.”

“So . . . according to some stuff I heard about you,” she said, swallowing roughly. “You’re not big on making out with anybody.”

My eyes snapped to hers. “Huh?”

A wash of pink swept across her cheeks and it was so cute how she could readily ask me about handcuffs but not about whatever it was she was trying to say now.

“You know, Square,” she said. “You don’t give good tongue.”

Now the slash of pink deepened to red and it was sure to match the band of heat I felt tightening like a noose around my collar. Fuck, did chicks really talk about this shit?

“It’s not that I don’t give good tongue,” I said, leaning forward. “It’s that I don’t
want
to give good tongue.”

A deep groove formed between her eyebrows. “How come?”

“Well, Blue . . .” My fingers reached for the end of her hair and I twirled the cobalt tip with my fingers. This was a point I felt I wanted—no,
needed
—to make. And fuck, I almost wanted to
demonstrate
my argument, that’s how determined I was right now.

“Kissing is intimate,” I said. “And I don’t want to be intimate with just anybody.”

Her lips parted and I scooted even nearer to her, pinning her knees between my thighs on the stool.

Everyone around us in the bar became a blurred image in the background. All I saw, all I wanted to see, was Jessie. Her hazel eyes, her pink lips, the small beauty mark on the corner of her lip.

I moved my face close enough to breathe the same air. Her eyes blinked lazily with what was certainly desire, and her fingers fisted my forearm in anticipation.

My nose slid along her cheekbone until my lips were flush with her ear. “Don’t be fooled, Jess. I know how to use my tongue.”

Her breath hitched in the back of her throat.

The tip of my tongue traced her earlobe. “I know how to use it when I want to.” I lightly skimmed the inside of the fold and a moan elicited from her lips. I liked hearing it.

And now I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted her to feel me, taste me, as badly as I wanted to taste her. It was true that I didn’t give that part of myself to many girls, but fuck, I wanted to give it to her.

My mouth moved down her neck as I licked my way to her throat. Her skin was soft and smooth and pebbled at my touch. Her fingers were gripping my biceps and I slid my hands to her waist. She was lean and warm beneath my fingers.

I tore my mouth away from her neck to gaze at her. I needed to make sure that Jessie wanted me to touch her, and I figured she’d let me know in no uncertain terms. Her eyes glazed over as her bottom lip trembled and she released broken breaths.

My hand slid up her ribcage, along the side of her breast to her shoulder and her nipples hardened through the thin material of her T-shirt. I moved my lips just a whisper away from hers.

“I only use my tongue with amazingly hot girls who turn me on beyond reason,” I whispered. “And that’s been few and far between.”

He eyes widened briefly as she took in my words.

“And you, Jessie.
Fuck
.” I traced the pad of my thumb over her plump bottom lip. “I don’t even know if you realize what the hell you’re doing to me right now.”

She shook her head as if to say something but the words appeared to stall on her lips.

“Now I want
your
tongue.” My thumb glided to her cheek as my mouth brushed over hers for the briefest of taste. “Plan on giving it to me?”

Her head angled back against my hands and she groaned.

“Fucking . . . hell . . . Nate.” They were the first words she’d spoken since I began my onslaught.

Having the ability to turn Jessie on practically twisted me inside out. Resting my forehead against hers, I could feel her breath on my skin.

When her mouth parted and her tongue darted out to swipe my bottom lip, I nearly came unglued, it was so damn sexy.

She had given me the permission I needed, so I didn’t hesitate. My tongue flicked against hers fleetingly, and then slipped past her lips to lick deeply inside her mouth.

Our tongues intertwined, our mouths cemented, the mutual exploration turned soft and slow and sensual. My hand gripped the back of her neck to created a tighter connection and she sighed against my lips.

We continued that way, barely coming up for air, for a couple of blissful minutes until some asshole knocked into us and nearly spilled his beer on our heads. I ripped my mouth from hers, my hands grasping her knees, while the dude sloppily apologized and then ordered another drink, shouting over our heads.

My eyes met Jessie’s as we both breathed heavily. She grinned and rolled her eyes until the asshole got his drink and left.

Her face was flushed and her lips were swollen and reality crashed in on me about what I’d just done. “Hey, Jess. Maybe I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay, Nate,” she said, cutting me off. “Now I know that you can, in fact, use your tongue
quite
well.”

My lips quirked up, but still I felt conflicted.

“I enjoyed that, a lot.” Then she shook her head. “But don’t worry, it is what it is. I don’t expect anything from you.”

Somehow she always knew the right thing to say. I nodded, wanting to reach over and kiss her again, because goddamn, those
lips
. But I kept myself in check.

“I’m tired,” she said. “I’m gonna hit the hay.”

I tipped my chin. “I’m beat, too.”

As we walked to the room, I resisted the urge to reach for her hand, yank her toward me, and then pin her up against the wall. Kissing her was intoxicating enough and I needed to get my head screwed on straight.

We got some waters and ice from the machine by the elevator and as soon as we stepped inside the room she threw herself across one of the beds, her arms raised above her head. “What a long day.”

“Tell me about it,” I mumbled, sitting down hard on the other bed.

“The thing about not having anything with you is there’s nothing to change into,” she said, sitting up and folding down her sheets.

“True.” I looked at her jeans and T-shirt, my gaze fixing on her impressive breasts. I tried not to think about what they’d look like naked. “You’re going to sleep in that?”

“Nope,” she said. “At some point I’m going to strip down to my skivvies.”

“Yeah, makes two of us.” I closed my eyes to swipe that image from my brain and then stood up. “I need some water, want some?”

She shook her head and I locked myself in the bathroom, attempting to get my hard-on under control. When I realized it was no use, I stepped out with a fresh glass of ice water in my hand and headed toward my bed, determined to get some sleep.

Jessie was beneath her covers and I could just make out her bra straps.

They were
black.
Fuck me.

Jessie

I lay in the itchy hotel sheets pretending to be asleep; when in reality, my entire body was vibrating with need.

I knew that Nate hadn’t been telling the truth in the bar when he said he wasn’t into handcuffs and I swear to God, the first time his lips met mine I nearly melted into the chair. We were in a crowded bar, people knocking into us, and still it was the hottest kiss ever.

And what he said about not using his tongue and then wanting to use it on me, holy fuck hell. I felt completely wrecked. From just one kiss. But I knew if I didn’t act casually, it would ruin the moment.

Because if there was anything I had learned about Nate on this trip, it was that there was so much inside of him—deep and dark and frightening—and it was fucking with his brain. The other thing I knew for certain was that if he didn’t let it out soon, it might consume him.

I wanted him. God, I wanted him. But at what cost? Could we in fact be together, chalk this up to a fun weekend, and still remain friends? A large part of me was willing to find out, even if I paid for it later.

I stared at the dark ceiling, figuring Nate had finally fallen asleep, because I no longer heard his rustling sheets. He had tried to be quiet but it was evident he was struggling just as much.

I considered allowing my hand to travel beneath the sheets to release my pent-up frustration, but I was afraid he’d hear. Maybe if I went to the bathroom, I could run the water, take care of business, and hopefully extinguish the blaze inside me.

The room was pitch black and as I slid out of the sheets in only my underwear, it was a safe assumption that he wouldn’t be able to see me.

I closed the bathroom door as softly as I could and then flipped on the glaring light. I stared at myself in the mirror—at my black bra and matching panties—and asked myself what in the hell I was doing. I was feeling hot about a guy who’d been my casual friend and not even my type. But this weekend seemed to change everything.

My hair stuck up all over the place and my mascara was beginning to run beneath my eyes. I turned on the water and used the hotel soap to wash the grime off my face.

After drying off with the towel, I leaned against the counter and closed my eyes. I pretended that Nate had me pushed up on the sink as my hand slid inside my underwear.

My mind was a slideshow of events, cataloguing each moment with Nate—how close he had gotten in the car in front of his childhood home, his neck bent over mine at the covered bridge, and then his tongue in my ear at the bar. My breathing picked up and fluttered out of me in harsh wisps, but my hand wasn’t doing the trick.

I needed a large and rough hand. Preferably one attached to stacked biceps.

Deciding I was being ridiculous, I turned off the water and headed for the door, inching it open, so as not to wake Nate. I stepped into the room and was about to flick off the light behind me when my eyes panned across the space. Nate’s eyes were open and he was staring straight at me.

My heart nearly exploded out of my chest and my feet became cemented to the floor. I didn’t know what made me drop my hands to my sides but I allowed his gaze to roam freely over my body. I was a petite girl but I had curves. My breasts were a good size, my hips and ass shapely. I’d always embraced my body and the men I dated seemed to appreciate it.

So having Nate see me without any clothes on didn’t embarrass me so much as turn me on even further. But I had a moment of doubt when I saw his gaze land on my stomach near my latest tattoo of a gold gilded picture frame. I realized he could see all of my ink in full glory—at the least on the front of me—and I wondered just how many girls he might’ve been with like me, if any. I would venture to say zero.

When his gaze travelled up to my chest to the exact replica of my father’s Hasselblad 500C/M camera, half obscured by my bra, my nipples hardened in response. He shut his eyes tight and let out an exaggerated breath. I didn’t know what he was thinking—whether he was trying to fight his attraction like I’d been doing, or whether he’d decided to allow me the privacy I needed to walk back into the room.

Maybe he’d decided that he couldn’t possibly be with an inked-up, blue-haired girl.

I flicked off the light and we were shrouded in darkness again. I navigated my way back to the bed and sat down on the edge, facing Nate.

“Sorry if I woke you,” I whispered.

“You didn’t,” he whispered back.

“I thought you were asleep,” I said.

“Well, I wasn’t,” he said, his voice rough and gravelly.

He sounded upset, so now I wondered if something else had been on his mind. “Why not?”

He lifted himself up against the headboard as my eyes became adjusted to the darkness. I could just make out the silhouette of his chest.

“God, Jessie.” I could hear his harsh breaths right before he stood up, completely ignoring my question. I held my breath wondering if he was heading toward me or to the bathroom.

He strode to the window instead and slid open the corner of the curtain to stare out into the night.

“Full moon,” he said, gazing at the evening sky.

In gray boxer briefs, I saw the contour of the muscles on his back. Trim waist, smooth skin, firm and round ass, he could easily model an underwear ad for Calvin Klein.

I had never been with a guy like him before. I liked lean and fit, skinny even. But there was something so beautiful about how he looked standing near that window beneath the backdrop of the moon. Like he was in the frame of a photo, perfectly centered, and I’d probably always retain that image in my head.

His fingers dropped the curtain but not enough to shift it back into place. Just a sliver remained open enough that I could see him as he turned around. Nate’s chest was perfectly smooth outside of a dusting of hair around his nipples.

His stomach was something out of one of those advertisements for a gym. I never paid attention to six-pack abs but there they were, displayed in all of their glory. Near his belly button was a line of light hair that ran a perfect route below his shorts.

And beneath his underwear was the outline of his full-blown erection. A gasp arose from my lips as his gaze crashed into mine. Just like I had done moments before by the bathroom door, Nate didn’t cover himself or try to move away.

His feet were nearly rooted to the floor, as if at a standstill. It seemed neither one of us knew what to do, but we sure as hell both wanted each other.

My gaze travelled up the smooth planes of his body on their own accord, only to focus back in on what was right in front of me. I knew he only joked about having a monster in his pants but good lord; there it was, on glorious exhibit.

“You’re beautiful, Nate,” I said, without any hesitation or shame.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” he whispered.

My breath stalled on my lips and I readjusted myself on the bed. Scooting my body against my pillows, my eyes stayed glued to his the entire time, making it plain exactly what I was thinking.

“What are you—” he said and then I effectively cut him off when my hands clasped over my breasts.

He stalked toward me, reaching me in half a second flat.

A groan tore from his throat as he grabbed my face and crashed his lips against mine. Hard and bruising, my head practically molded into the pillow. This kiss was so different from the one in the bar. This kiss was like a brand.

My fingers flew up and clenched onto his hair. I tightened my grip, which only made him press harder. When I moaned against his mouth, he forced my lips apart with his tongue and then plunged it fully inside my mouth. He tasted like beer and cinnamon gum mixed together.

His tongue smooth like velvet, it explored every corner of my mouth as if on a mission. His fingers grasped onto my neck and then tunneled deep into my hair, effectively holding me hostage.

And then suddenly, the weight was lifted and I could no longer feel him. When I opened my eyes he was he standing at the side of the bed, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a tortured voice. “I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just—goddamn, you’re so fucking sexy. Your hair, your lips, your body.”

My entire body was thrumming with desire. If he walked away now, I wouldn’t be able to sleep all night long. Let along all week.

“It’s okay, Nate.” I grabbed for his hand, which was shaking. “I obviously want you, too.”

“I don’t want to mess this up,” he mumbled. “I don’t want you to hate me,
after
.”

“I’m a big girl,” I said. “I can handle myself.”

“But you . . . you’re the only girl who . . .” he stormed away from the bed, his hands tearing through his hair. “
Fuck
.”

“Who what?” I said, throwing my hands up in frustration. “Who looks like this? Who isn’t your type? Well you aren’t my type either, so what.”

He shook his head violently. “That’s not what I—”

“Who cares about that other stuff? Don’t think so hard,” I practically growled. “Goddammit Nate, I can’t deny how amazingly turned on I am right now.”

“You don’t know me,” he said, in anguish. “How I . . . what I . . .”

“How what?” I said, exasperated by how hard he was thinking about this. I was pretty damn sure he didn’t expend this kind of energy with all of those other girls. “What, Nate? What you want to do to me?”

His eyes flashed with undulating lust.

“Then
show
me, Nate,” I said, softening my voice. “Show me.”

The plain desire on his face contradicted the shaking of his head.

“I appreciate your nobility and all,” I said. “But I want to feel your body and your lips on me again.”

When he didn’t say anything, I took a deep breath, feeling defeated and more than frustrated. “If you don’t want me . . . that’s okay, too.”

I scooted down the bed and laid my body flat. I wasn’t going to argue with him about this anymore, it was too much work. There was something raw inside of him that he was terrified of unleashing. Still, I didn’t understand why he was fighting it so hard. It was only sex, after all.

He tilted his head back and then let out a strangled growl. Before I could decipher exactly what was happening, he was on top of me again.

His entire body was aligned with mine from chest to knees. He pressed me hard into the mattress as his lips melded with mine. I swung my legs up to wrap around his waist and our centers collided. I could feel the length and girth of him now and holy fuck, he was large.

His fingers gripped my hair firmly, shocking the shit out of me, and it was then that I realized that Nate must like it rough. I’d been with my share of tough guys but now I knew that I would have enjoyed them more if they also had Nate’s softer side to strike a balance.

My hands scaled over his solid biceps to his back. He was hard and smooth everywhere I touched. His tongue was tangling with mine and his hips were grinding relentlessly. If he continued his onslaught against my center, I probably wouldn’t last much longer.

“Goddamn it, Jessie.” He bit and licked my jaw and then sucked on my neck. His lips were hot and hard and like a suction cup against my skin.

With my skin practically burning from his touch, he suddenly slowed way down and lifted himself up on his forearms. I figured he’d freak again and bail, but then he sat back on his knees and looked down at me with tenderness in his eyes.

His tentative fingers reached out and began moving delicately, outlining the edges of the tattoos on my chest and then travelling down to my stomach. It was such a gentle gesture that I shivered. No guy had ever taken the time to do that. Maybe because they were used to seeing girls with tattoos.

He tugged me to a sitting position as he continued to stroke my skin with his silky touch. He kissed my shoulders and then his lips trailed up to my ear. “I like the way you smell.”

I never wore any perfume so I didn’t really know what he meant; still it was nice to hear.

He gathered my face in his hands and stared into my eyes as if admiring me. Then he slanted his head and brushed his lips across mine. I could barely take it anymore. This wasn’t what I wanted—not this gentleness, and not from Nate—it was bound to ruin me for other guys.

I just wanted hot and hard sex, over and done with.

As he softly kissed my throat, I wondered if he thought this was what was expected of him. That maybe all the other Barbie dolls he’d been with needed to be treated with kid gloves.

He nibbled and then sucked on my bottom lip. “Damn . . . I’ve always wondered what your lips tasted like.”

And then he captured my mouth in a heated kiss, softer this time, his mouth and tongue setting the slower pace. He knew how to kiss, I’d give him that. Some guys just shoved their tongues down your throat. His kissing was almost like an art form. Just a little bit of tongue, enough to tease. Enough to make you want more. Want it
all.

He pulled away and his gaze skated down my body. “You’re gorgeous, Jess.”