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Authors: Heidi Medina

Made to Love (20 page)

BOOK: Made to Love
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Nathan slid two fingers inside me, never
breaking contact with his mouth.  I heard his short, ragged breaths, felt the
hot air against my overly sensitive clit and I did something I’d never done
before.  I began to beg.  I had no idea what I was saying, mindless rambling
and please for him to
fuck me now
, words uttered without thought.  He
raised his head and crawled back up over me, covering me with his body, and
captured my mouth with his, and I tasted myself on his lips.  I lifted a leg up
over his waist, my heel digging into him as I rubbed against his cock,
desperate for the friction my body was craving.

“Jesus, Reagan. . .baby. .”  He rolled to the
side of the bed and pulled a condom from the nightstand drawer.  Hastily
rolling it on, he held himself over me, braced on his hands.  Impatient, I
reached down between us, wrapped my fingers around his cock and guided him to
me. 

His eyes fluttered shut as he sank into me
with a groan.  “Fuuuuuckkkk!” 

There was no time to accustom myself to the
feel of him as he began moving, long and deep, his pelvis slamming against my
clit with each thrust.  He sucked at my neck, and I locked both legs around his
waist, meeting him thrust for thrust.  My hands clutched at his back,
fingernails digging crescents into his inked muscles before scraping down to
grab his ass. 

His hands fisted in the comforter on either side
of me as he rose up enough to nip at my boob with his teeth.  The new angle
sent him even deeper inside me, as our bodies continued to dance together in a
tangled mass of sweaty limbs.  I felt the familiar tightening in my lower
belly. 

“Fuck, baby, come with me,” he whispered
between kisses along my collarbone.  “I can’t hold on.  Christ. . .yes, that’s
it.”

My back arched with the force of my orgasm as
waves of pulsing sensation washed over me.  My legs stiffened around his waist,
as he continued to pound into me, hard enough now that we began sliding across
the bed.  He increased the pace, as he whispered my name over and over.  White
noise filled my head as I screamed my release.

I was wrong before.  I would’ve survived had
he said no.  But, this?  This I couldn’t possibly survive.

Nathan buried his face in the bed beside my
neck and thrust deep one last time with a growl, then stilled, his body
covering mine, chest heaving.  We lay there, shuddering, breath coming in
short, shallow gasps.  His heart was beating so rapidly, I could feel it
thumping against my ribs.  Or maybe it was mine.  I could no longer tell. 
Aftershocks rippled through me, and I clenched around his cock, making him jerk
with a muffled grunt.  I reached up and ran a hand through his damp hair. 

It had never been like this.  Ever.  This
hot, this fast, this frenzied, this
amazing
.  In the single span of a
John Legend song, Nathan had effectively ruined me for sex with anyone else.

 

Nathan

 

I opened my eyes, her neck filling my vision. 
I took in the wisps of hair that stuck to nape, the tiny earlobe, the red marks
that peppered her skin, courtesy of my teeth and five o’clock shadow.  I had
marked her, and my chest swelled in pleasure at the sight. 

My gaze dropped to the pulse point below her
ear, and I watched as her blood pumped violently beneath her skin, matching my
own thunderous heartbeat rushing through my head.  I was crushing her, I knew
it, and should probably move off of her, but I quite simply didn’t have the
energy.  I had engaged in my share of vigorous, rowdy sex that had left me
tired and sore, but none of that came close to what had just happened.  This
woman, with her ridiculous rules, and who had completely thrown me off guard by
appearing in my bathroom doorway—what, no more than ten minutes ago?—had made
me come faster, harder and more violent than I’d ever done before, leaving me
feeling  completely and utterly drained.  If someone was to break in at this
moment, I had no doubt I would continue to lie here with Reagan, and let the
man clear the place out.  I felt
that drained

I told myself the mind-blowing orgasm—cliché,
I know—was mind-blowing simply because I’d wanted to fuck her from perhaps the
first time I’d saw her.  I attributed it to the buildup, the anticipation.  Yet
even as I mulled this over in my muddled, post-coital brain, I knew it wasn’t
entirely the truth.

She reached up and tangled her fingers in my
hair, running them through it, sending goose bumps down my back.  I felt myself
thicken inside her.

Already?  Apparently I wasn’t all that tired
after all.

I moved then, lifting myself up to look down
at her.  Her long, dark hair spilled in a tangled, wet mess over the comforter
that I hadn’t even bothered to throw back before depositing her on the bed. 
Her lips were swollen, her dark amber colored eyes guarded, and her body was
sticky with sweat. 

She was quite possibly the most beautiful
sight I had ever laid eyes on.

“Hey,” I whispered.  There were so many
things we should probably talk about, but I couldn’t seem to remember a single
one, nor did now feel like the time.

“Hey,” she whispered back.  Her gaze shifted
to the bathroom and then back at me.  “Your shower is still running.”

Shit!

I didn’t want to move, but figured I’d better
remedy the situation.  “So it is.”  I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her
forehead and then rolled off her to stand up.  “Just a sec.”

I stepped over wet footprints in the carpet
and headed into the bathroom.  The shower door hung open, the water having gone
cool.  I turned it off, shut the door and then inspected the damage.  Aside
from a few scattered puddles of water amidst the piles of our discarded clothes,
it wasn’t too bad.  I grabbed a towel off the rack, threw it down and hastily
spread it around with my foot as I pulled off and discarded my used condom.   I
unplugged my iPod and practically sprinted back to the bedroom. 

Only to find it empty.  The bedroom door was
cracked open.

She’d left. 

I was already shaking my head as I stalked
the short distance from my room to hers and pounded on the closed door.   I was
just raising my hand to pound again when the door opened slightly, and she
filled the small space.  She’d dressed in another pair of pajama shorts and a
t-shirt, and her hair hung in heavy locks over her shoulders.  Her eyes widened
as she took in the naked sight of me, hard and standing at attention.  Again. 

I fisted my hands, and felt my nails bite
into my palms, as I resisted the urge to fling open the door and fuck her
senseless.   “What are you doing?”  The bigger question was what was
I
doing,
pounding on her door, naked, in the middle of the night like an idiot. 

She pulled the door open a bit wider, her
eyes darting back down to my cock, before finally settling on some imaginary
intrigue just over my shoulder.   “What am I doing?” she repeated.  “I’m going
to bed.”

“Here?”  Well of course, here.  I had given
her the room for her use, after all.  But that was before. 

“Well, I thought. . . .I wasn’t sure if. . .”
she shrugged as her words trailed off. 

I crossed my arms over my chest.  She wasn’t
sure of what?  That I wanted her in my bed?  I thought I had just proved in the
last half hour, quite thoroughly, I might add, that I did.  My voice softened. 
“Okay.  I know you’ve laid out some ground rules for us, rules you feel are
necessary.  And I’ll adhere to them, even though I don’t understand them.  But
I have a few rules of my own.”

She quirked an eyebrow, and tilted her head. 
“Such as?”

“Such as, when a woman shares my bed, I expect
her to stay there, or at least tell me why she’s leaving.  Not go scurrying off
in the middle of the night.  It isn’t good for my ego.”  Not true.  I had more
or less kicked more than my share of women out of my bed once the sex was
done.  I didn’t need some trust fund princess hanging around and getting too
hopeful. 

But I was finding the thought of spending the
night in this house, after what had just happened between us, with her in a
separate room, completely unacceptable. 

So a rule it was.

I held out my hand.  Things between us were
new, fragile, and a long time coming.  I probably shouldn’t be pressing my luck
at the moment.  But the woman had just climbed into my shower, commanding that
I fuck her.  I’d be damned if I’d let her retreat so easily.

She let out a soft whoosh of breath, before
reaching out and clasping my hand.  I didn’t hesitate further, and pulled her
to me.  I cupped her cheek with my other hand as I leaned down to kiss her. 
Her mouth opened willingly beneath mine, and I slipped the tips of my fingers
inside the hem of her t-shirt, slowly sliding it up toward her ribcage.  She
shivered and raised her arms over her head, letting me pull the shirt off, and
I tossed it across the hall. 

I lifted her by the waist, and she locked her
ankles around me.  I carried her back to my room, one of her glorious tits in
my mouth, and the other in my hand.  She moaned and pulled on my hair, her head
thrown back in abandon. 

Nope, not tired at all. 

But now, I wanted to take my time.  Explore her,
pleasure her, find out all the ways I could make her scream.  I wanted her
deliriously sated, sore and thinking of no one but me when I left for my
meeting in a few short hours.

Chapter Twenty

 

Reagan

 

                I don’t remember much about the first few
hours after finding my dead mother.  From what I’ve been told, which was
little, Jacob found me lying next to her in her bed, perhaps an hour or so
after I’d discovered her, my arm wrapped around her middle.  I wouldn’t speak
to or look at him.  He made sure Alex was occupied in their room before running
outside, yelling for help.  Someone called 911 and within minutes the police,
EMT’s and other various people crowded into our small, pitiful home.  I didn’t
speak to or look at any of them either. 

                It wasn’t until one of them attempted to
pry me away from my mother’s lifeless body that I came alive.  Apparently, I’d
tightened my arm around her, stiffening and refusing to move, until some
well-intentioned EMT had wrapped their arms around my upper body in an effort
to forcibly pull me away.  I’d erupted in a fit of incoherent screaming,
clawing and biting, forcing the EMT to abruptly drop me back on the bed, where
I’d landed on top of the corpse of my dead mother. 

It was then that I’d passed out. 

I’d been hospitalized, and remained
unconscious, for three full days before waking up and discovering the social
workers at my bedside.  Mom had already been taken care of, it seemed, and all
that was left to do was deal with her three children. 

FOUR, I wanted to scream.  There were FOUR
of us.  But Charlie wasn’t around and no one asked about him, so I kept silent.
   

Upon discharge, I became a ward of the
state and joined Jacob and Alex at a state home for orphaned children.  Foster
families would be looked for, but as it was explained to us, we needed to be
realistic.  The chances we would remain together were slim.  Jacob had sat
between Alex and me in the administration office, holding our hands, as we’d
digested this bit of news.  We’d been through so much, but we’d survived it
together, and the idea of being separated was unimaginable.

It was three days later that they came to
take Alex.

 

Warmth flooded my face, and a burst of light
burned its way across my closed eyelids.  I groaned in protest and scrunched my
shut eyes tighter against the intrusion.  But the sun was relentless, and the
damage had already been done. 

I was awake.

In Nathan’s bed.  Where I had spent several
hours in the night exploring his naked body.  My stomach fluttered nervously as
I opened my eyes, lifted my head and slowly turned to look behind me. 

He wasn’t there. 

I stared at the rumpled comforter and sheets,
at the indent in his pillow where his head had been.  Feeling like an idiot,
but unable to bring myself to care, I wiggled over to his pillow and buried my
face in the cotton fabric.  It smelled like him.  I smiled against the pillow
before flopping over on my back, dragging it with me and securing it against my
side.  If I hadn’t already been remembering last night, the movement certainly
reminded me.  I was sore.  My arms and legs felt wooden, and between my legs
was achy and tender. 

Now, in the bright light of day, I couldn’t
believe I’d been so bold as to just waltz into his shower and strip, but I
wasn’t going to allow myself to regret it.  I’d just had the best sex of my
life, with the man I’d been fantasizing for weeks about, and so I wasn’t going
to feel sorry about that.  Where we went from here was still uncertain, and of
course fucking him had done nothing to erase the giant elephant that was my
past, but it was a start for now.

Speaking of, where was he?

Not wanting to be caught cuddling with his
pillow like some freak suffering from a fatal attraction, I tossed it aside and
sat up.  I glanced around the room, and saw my shorts and t-shirt lying neatly
across a chair near the bed.  Squirming against the familiar tingle forming
between my legs at remembering how he’d flung them both from my body last night,
I slid out of bed and put them on.  It was then that I noticed the slip of
paper on the floor between the bed and the chair.  It must have fallen when I’d
scrambled over in my haste to inhale his pillow. 

 

I
had to head in to my meeting and didn’t want to wake you.  I figured you

Were pretty
tired ….exhausted.  Make yourself at home.  I’ll be back for lunch.

Nathan

 

I smiled and shook my head after reading his
words.  Exhausted, my ass.

I padded to the door and peeked out. 
Ridiculous,
Reagan.  He isn’t even here.
  I headed into the guest room, grabbed my things
and went back to his bathroom.  It was then I caught my first look at my post thoroughly-fucked-by-Nathan-Preston
self. 

Good god! 

Nathan’s lips, tongue, teeth and hands had
been on every inch of my body last night, and my face flushed as I surveyed
each reminder left behind of his pursuit.  My hair was a tangled mess, and my
lips were still slightly swollen and tender.  Red tinged scrapes covered my
lower jaw and neck in a bad case of whisker burn, and I had a noticeable hickey
just above my right boob.  Heat prickled along my skin as the mental image of
his mouth sucking on my skin flashed through my brain.  Damned if I didn’t wish
he was here right now, using that beautiful mouth of his to ease the ache
forming at my core.

I closed my eyes against the image, and took
a deep breath.   What was this man doing to me?

I showered, then dressed in jeans and a soft
blue vee-necked t-shirt.  It did nothing to hide the marks on my neck, but
successfully covered the hickey on my chest.  While I was completely turned on
by the idea that Nathan had left such a mark on me, there was no need to be a
walking advertisement about it.

Brushing out the tangles in my mass of hair,
I left it down to air dry as I cleaned up the bathroom and made the bed.  Not
wanting to be presumptuous, I opted to leave my things where they were in the
guest room.  Besides, we were only here for one more night.

I grabbed my phone and made my way back out
to the kitchen.  I wasn’t sure what Nathan was planning for lunch, or what time
“I’ll be back for lunch” was.  It was already after ten.  I didn’t know if I
should be preparing myself for his imminent return, or if I had a bit longer to
myself.  I guess I’d just wing it.

I spied a Keurig on the counter opposite me,
and noticed another piece of paper beside it, giving me instructions to brew
any of the k-cups I wanted.  There was even a mug waiting patiently by the
sink.  My stomach did a tiny somersault at Nathan’s thoughtfulness, and I
wondered if he would ever cease to amaze me.

Coffee in hand, I turned and surveyed the
living room area just off the dining area.  The room had floor to ceiling
windows and a sliding glass door set that led out to a large private deck.  I
flipped the lever on the door to unlock it and slid it open to step outside.  I
settled in a deck chair and pulled out my phone.

“I was wondering when you’d call.  How are
you?”

“I know, I’m sorry.  I’ve been. . .busy.  I’m
good,” I answered. 

Helen chuckled.  “Just good?  Work going
okay?”

“Work’s great.”  My heart hammered in my
chest as I bit the bullet and just went for it.  “I actually met someone.”

This was met with thundering silence.  Never,
in all of the ten years I had lived with Helen, had I ever spoken about any of
my relationships.  I wasn’t sure why I was even doing so now, except everything
seemed different this time, I felt different, and I was suddenly seized with
the desire to share with the one person who knew me best.

“Hello?  Did you hear--”

 “I heard you fine.  I’m just processing
it.”  Another pause.  Then, “You met someone.  Where?”

Where?  It was a question I didn’t want to
answer, because quite honestly, I didn’t want to hear any lectures on dating in
the workplace.  I was already worried enough about that tiny detail all on my
own.  I definitely couldn’t tell her he was my boss.  I decided to be vague. 
“I met him through work.  He’s friends with one of my co-workers.”  I wasn’t
really lying, right?  Nathan was friends with Bailey—at least they were on
speaking terms, so I considered myself justified.

 “Hmmm,” Helen murmured.  “And how is that
going?”

I sighed.  “I don’t know yet.  I mean, it’s
okay right now. . .but, I don’t know if. . .I don’t really know.”  It was the
truth.

“Do you like him, Reagan?  I mean, really
like him?”

I closed my eyes against the sun and
remembered the feel of Nathan’s hands and mouth on my body.   Hell, yes, I
liked him.  “Yeah, I think I do.”

“Then don’t overthink it.  Maybe it ends up
being nothing, but you might just find yourself having a good time with a great
friend, if nothing else.”  Her unspoken suggestion that I could use a good
friend, or two, hung in the air between us.  

I hung up after a few more minutes of
catching up, and then stretched lazily in the sun.  It had to be close to
eleven o’clock now and surely Nathan—

My heart fluttered as I heard the glass door
slide open behind me.  And damn if my breathing didn’t kick it up a notch.  I
stood, turned to face him and stopped short.   He strode purposefully out onto
the deck and didn’t stop until he reached me, grabbing the back of my head with
his hand and smashing his lips to mine.  His mouth was hot, and his tongue
everywhere.  I couldn’t stop the whimper in the back of my throat as I stood on
my tiptoes, spreading my hands across his back.  Moisture pooled between my
legs and I pressed myself into the hardness against my lower belly. 

Nathan tore his mouth from mine only long
enough to yank my t-shirt over my head and toss it aside.  Unclasping my bra,
it soon followed the shirt and his mouth returned to wreak havoc on my neck as
he palmed both of my boobs, sending shivers down my spine.  He began taking
steps backward, tugging me with him, until we were back inside the living room.

We made it as far as the couch.

 

 

“Best lunch hour I’ve ever had,” Nathan
mumbled, his face still buried in the couch cushions beside my head.  “Ever.”

They were the first real words spoken to me
since he’d arrived home from his meeting.  I pressed a kiss into the crook of
his neck in response, waiting for the blood rushing through my ears to quiet
and for my heart rate to return to normal.  He leaned up on his elbows, and
brushed my damp hair from my forehead.  After a soft kiss to my cheek, he
pulled out and off me, shifted to the side and pulled me back against him.  His
dress shirt lay open, and the heated skin of his chest pressed against my naked
back. 

We lay there entwined, his arm resting snug
against my waist, but leaving my arm free.  I reached down and laced my fingers
through his, bringing our hands up to kiss each of his knuckles.  This
touchy-feely stuff wasn’t like me, and I didn’t know where it was coming from. 
Routine demanded that I get up, dress, and put some distance between us, but at
the moment, I felt like telling routine to fuck off.  I snuggled back against
Nathan, relishing in the feel of his body behind mine. 

“You keep wiggling that ass of yours and I’m
gonna break my promise.  Again.”

I turned my head slightly to look back at
him.  “Promise?  To who?”

“Myself.  To keep my hands off you at least
until after dinner.”  He released my hand and traced his fingers lightly up my
arm. 

I frowned.  “Well, that was kinda dumb.”  I
pressed my ass against his cock again for good measure.

Nathan groaned, and kissed the soft spot
behind my ear.  “Yeah, well, I was going for a little less sex-crazed teenager
and more mature, responsible adult.”  His fingers danced down across my stomach
and back up again, before curling around my boob and resting there.  I closed
my eyes in delight.  Already my body was responding to his touch, and his
fingers weren’t even moving any more. 

I was lying naked on Nathan’s couch, in broad
daylight, doing the closest thing to cuddling I’d ever done.   The men of my
past relationships wouldn’t recognize this Reagan.  I didn’t even recognize
myself.

Nathan sighed heavily and pushed himself up
on one elbow.  “I really did intend for us to eat, though.”  He swung a leg
over me and lifted up off the couch, shrugged his dress shirt off his shoulders
and handed it to me as he looked around the room.  “Here, put this on.  I have
no idea where the rest of your clothes went.”   He straightened and zipped up
his pants before heading into the kitchen.

I sat up, took his shirt and slipped my arms
into the sleeves.  It was entirely too big, and I had to roll the sleeves up
three times, but as I pulled the soft, Nathan-smelling cotton around me, I
decided then and there it would be my weekend attire of choice.  At least until
we left tomorrow.

BOOK: Made to Love
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