With Me in Seattle Bundle One (80 page)

Her pussy tightens around my finger, milking and pulling at it, as she cries out, and I can’t wait to bury my cock deep inside her.

I open the condom and lick and kiss my way back up her incredible body, paying special attention to her nipples, loving the sound of the breath catching in her throat. Finally, my lips are on hers again, where they fucking belong, and she’s wrapping herself around me, eagerly pressing against me.

It’s almost my undoing.

I raise up on my hands, braced above her, my cock cradled in that glorious wetness, and want so desperately to plunge inside her and fuck her, hard, until she screams my name.

God, I want this woman.

But I can’t move. I’m staring down at her, wishing again that I could see her eyes. Her hands travel down my back, up my sides, and back down again.

“Nate, I want you,” she murmurs in her soft voice.

“I know.” Fuck, I want you, too.

“Now, damn it.” I grin at her impatience.

“You are so fucking hot.” I softly kiss her forehead and breathe her in again. Jesus, is she really here? Am I dreaming?

“Inside me!”

I’m about to laugh at her impatience, but she wraps that hand around my dick, and I’m about to explode like a fucking teenager. She gently pushes up and down, not too tight, just exploring me, and it’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt.

Then she gets to the tip and stills. “Holy shit, what is that?”

I chuckle softly and kiss her lips, trying to distract myself from her magical fingers tracing the head of my dick and flicking against the piercing.

“It’s an apa.”

“A what-a?” she whispers.

I can tell she’s a little shocked, and a lot curious, and my excitement just skyrocketed.

Just wait until you see the tats, baby.

“An apadravya. Fuck, honey.”

“Why would you get this?” she asks, her voice full of curiosity and lust.

“You’re about to find out.” I roll the condom on and plunge my fingers into her hair again, holding her face to me as I kiss her, devouring her mouth. She wraps her arms around me and lifts her hips until the tip of my dick is resting on her lips.

Dear God, she’s going to be the death of me.

I slowly, gently slip inside her hot core. She’s so fucking wet that she easily accepts me inside her, and I don’t stop until I’m buried balls-deep in her.

“Fuck, I love how tight you are,” I whisper against her lips, and she tightens around me, pulls me more firmly against her with her legs and grips my hair in her hands. She doesn’t want me to go anywhere, and damned if I plan to.

I want to stay here forever, buried inside her.

I start to slowly move, plunging in and pulling out in a long, slow rhythm. I feel the metal balls dragging against her walls, and her body’s reaction to it is astounding. She’s quivering and pulsing against me, clenching me. Fuck, she’s so strong.

Getting that fucker was the best damn thing I ever did.

She’s not going to last long, thank God, because neither am I. I pick up the pace and twist my hips, just a bit, and I feel her begin to shudder beneath me.

“Come on, honey, let go,” I whisper against her lips.

She cries out as she grips me like a vice and comes around me, shuddering and shaking, her pussy milking me, and I have no choice but to follow her over the edge.

“Oh, fuck!”

***

“Are you okay?” I ask and pull her against me, settling us into the bed.

 “Yes.”

 “Do you need anything?” I run my fingers down her soft cheek and sigh contentedly.

“No, thank you.”

I can feel her withdrawing, regretting this already, and it fucking pisses me off.

“Do you want me to turn on the light?” I ask calmly and reach for the lamp beside the bed, but she stops me with her hand firmly on my arm.

“No, it’s fine.”

 “You don’t sound like yourself. Are you sure you’re okay?” Talk to me, baby.

“I’m tired. Probably too much wine.”

Bullshit. She didn’t drink that much. I noticed. I notice everything about her. I hate myself for being such a pussy and not making her talk to me, tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of hers, but I know that she won’t open up to me right now, and if I push it, she’ll run. I just want to hold her in my arms all night long. We can talk in the morning and discuss where we go from here.

Because the job can kiss my ass. She’s mine. And, God knows, I’m hers.

I kiss her forehead and turn her away from me, curling around her back, tucking her against me. She fits perfectly.

“Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

I tighten my arms around her and fall asleep with my nose buried against her hair, breathing her in.

***

I wake before the alarm, as usual. I run my hands down my face and then I remember. Julianne.

I reach for her, but the bed is cold and empty, except for me. I frown and sit up. Did she already get up? I hope she made some coffee.

But I don’t smell coffee, and unease settles, unwelcomed, in the pit of my stomach.

Not bothering to pull on underwear, I hurry to the living room, but she’s nowhere to be found. The condo is empty, showing no signs of her. Her purse and clothes are gone. My heart drops into my stomach.

She fucking left.

Son of a bitch.

It took me a year to get her here. How long is it going to take me to get her back?

PLAY WITH ME

Book Three in the With Me In Seattle Series

By

Kristen Proby

PLAY WITH ME

Book Three in the With Me In Seattle Series

Kristen Proby

Copyright © 2013 by Kristen Proby

All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.

Cover image used under license from istockphoto.com.

Cover design by Renae Porter.

Dedication:

This book is dedicated to my brother, Mike Holien. There has never been a prouder big sister! You make me laugh, and you’re totally okay with me being the favorite. I love you, baby brudder.

Prologue

Ms. McBride,

Thank you for your inquiry regarding Will Montgomery and the rest of the team appearing at your hospital. Our organization receives thousands of similar requests each year, and unfortunately, Mr. Montgomery is unable to fulfill every request. He is not available at this time.

Regards,

Susan Jones

Public Relations, Seattle Football

Nice.

This makes the fifth rejection from the elusive Will Montgomery in the past two years. My kids will be disappointed again.

I clear the e-mail from my screen and throw the phone in my handbag, climb out of my car and head into Red Mill Burgers, my favorite place to indulge in a big, juicy burger and fries.

I stand in the back of the line and contemplate the latest in a long line of rejection letters from the Seahawks. I am a nurse at Seattle Children’s Hospital, and my teenagers would love nothing more than to meet their sports heroes. I thought celebrities got off on photo ops like this. All I’m asking for is a couple of hours. They don’t have to spend the night, for Pete’s sake.

I glance to my right, and sitting right in the middle of the tiny restaurant is none other than my college buddy Jules and her brother Will Motherfucking Montgomery.

Son of a bitch!

I love Jules. She and Natalie and I were good friends in college, so I will absolutely go say hi. I just wish I didn’t have to speak to her arrogant ass of a brother in the process.

I place my order and saunter over to my friend.

“Jules?” I ask, my hand on her shoulder.

“Meg!” She immediately jumps up and pulls me into a warm hug.  “Oh my gosh, I haven’t seen you in years! How are you?”

I glance nervously at Will. “I’m doing very well, thanks. It’s great to see you.” She looks great, as always, but her eyes look a little sad. I wonder what’s going on…

“Will, this is Megan McBride, a friend from college. Meg, this is my brother Will.”

Will stands, his tall frame towering over me, and offers me his hand. Crap, I have to touch him? Digging deep, I find the manners instilled in me and shake his hand politely. “I know who you are.”

He just nods and takes his seat again.

“What have you been up to?” she asks me.

“I’m a charge nurse in the cancer unit at Seattle Children’s Hospital.” I grin at her, keenly aware of Will’s eyes on me, running up and down my body, over my loose-fitting white blouse, which is belted over black leggings, and my red cowboy boots. He makes me nervous.

“That’s awesome! Good for you, girl. Are you still singing?” she asks with a smile.

“Uh, no.” I shake my head and gaze down at the table. “Not since college.”

“You sing?” Will asks, his eyebrows raised.

“She has a fantastic voice,” Jules replies proudly. She always was so sweet and supportive.

“Thanks, but you know how it is,” I respond with a shrug. “Life takes over and things get busy.” And best friends leave you behind to start a band of their own.

Will and Jules exchange a look, and suddenly she hits me with, “Are you married?”

I let out a loud laugh. Not hardly. “Hell no.”

“Can I get your number?” Will asks bluntly.

Arrogant ass. I’ll bet women fall all over him everywhere he goes.

I narrow my eyes, unable to hide my contempt. “Hell no.”

Will’s jaw drops, and he smirks, then shakes his head. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t think I stuttered,” I respond, then lay my hand on Jules’ shoulder and force a smile for my friend. “It was great to see you. Take care, girl.”

“You too, Meg.”

As I turn and walk away, I hear Will murmur, “What the hell was that all about?”

Jerk.

I collect my brown-bagged burger and fries and head back out of the restaurant to go home and enjoy my only night off this week. I pray I don’t get called into work.

Chapter One

“To Nate and Jules.” Luke Williams raises his champagne flute and keeps one arm around his beautiful wife, Natalie. Everyone follows suit, toasting the happy couple. “May your love continue to grow. We wish you nothing but all the happiness in the world.”

“To Nate and Jules!” the guests echo and sip their drinks in celebration.

Nate McKenna, tall and dark and not just a little intense, folds his stunning blond fiancée into his arms and kisses her senseless in front of all of us, amid whistles and applause and Jules’ brother Will yelling, “Get a room!”

I sip my sweet pink champagne and glance around the extravagant Olympic room of the Edgewater Hotel. For the hundredth time, I ask myself what I’m doing here. I was shocked to receive the invitation to Jules Montgomery’s engagement party. Jules and Natalie and I hung out quite a bit in college, and it was great to reconnect with them a few months ago, but I certainly wasn’t expecting an invitation to mingle with their family and close friends.

I’m in a room with Luke Williams, for fuck sake. The movie star.

The room is decorated in Tiffany blue and white with simple white flower bouquets on the tables, white table linens and Tiffany blue napkins and touches here and there. It’s incredibly classy.

It’s completely Jules.

It’s a late-summer evening, and not quite dark out yet, so we have an amazing view of the Puget Sound, the sky just beginning to change to pink and orange, reflecting on the water. The glass doors are open so guests can come in and out at their leisure, enjoy the veranda and the  view, or come inside and dance.

“Meg, I’m so happy you could come.” Natalie taps my shoulder and pulls me into a big hug. “I’ve missed you, girl.”

“Me, too,” I respond, holding her close and then pulling back to admire the lovely woman before me. “You look fantastic. Marriage and motherhood agree with you, my friend.”

And it’s true. Natalie’s green eyes shine with happiness and contentment. Her dark chestnut hair is pulled back from her face in waves, and she is wearing a fantastic black sleeveless gown.

“Thank you. I love that dress. Your style hasn’t changed a bit,” she responds with a grin. I look down at my pale silver strapless dress with handkerchief hemline and strappy silver sandals.

“Not much of anything has changed,” I respond with a shrug.

“Except your hair, as usual,” Natalie laughs, pointing at my auburn hair streaked with chunky blond highlights, and I chuckle with her.

“My hair always changes, and this is pretty tame for me. The kids enjoy it, and well, you know…once a rocker chick, always a rocker chick.”

“You know”—Natalie grins smugly—“I still have those photos we did of you with your guitar, and nothing else.”

“Oh God.” I giggle at the memory of playing around in Natalie’s small college studio all those years ago.  “You might want to burn those.”

“No, I’m just thinking we should shoot them over again. You didn’t have that back then.” She points, and I follow her gaze to the tattoo on my inner upper arm.

“Maybe someday.”

 “So…” she begins but is interrupted by her husband. “Oh, Meg, this is my husband, Luke. Luke, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine and Jules, Megan McBride.”

“Hello, Megan, nice to meet you.” He offers me his right hand, and I feel my cheeks flush slightly before I respond, placing my hand in his to shake. But, instead, he raises it to his lips and kisses my knuckles.