Nathan parked further down the driveway yesterday, paranoid that the decorators would scratch his car. I wish he’d parked a little closer. I can see the car about thirty feet away but that’s a good thirty feet I could’ve avoided walking down.
“I’ll meet you there,” Jeanine says and climbs into her own vehicle.
While we’re in the village we stop by a bookstore. There’s a lot to choose from but nothing that interests me. Jeanine goes book mad, piling them in her basket before spending twenty minutes chatting to the girl behind the counter. Something glints out of the corner of my eye. I immediately head for the shelf and pick up the gorgeous leather journal with a brass buckle keeping it closed.
“What is this?” I ask, effectively cutting off their conversation.
“One of the leather journals I got in stock a while back. Only sold a few. I think that’s the last one,” she says from across the store.
My hand runs across the A4 sized book; the leather is patterned beautifully. “How much is it?”
“Fifty,” she responds and I almost choke.
“Fifty?”
“Yes, it should be sixty.”
Well I do enjoy a bargain. With a heavy sigh, I take the journal to the counter and hand over my card. Inputting my pin into the machine after a long moment’s deliberation, I finally relax. Fifty pounds is a lot of money. There are a lot of things I could buy with that.
Nathan deserves this more. He’s done a lot for me and something tells me he’ll love this.
She wraps the book in parcel paper and places it in a bag for me. I take it with a thank you and follow Jeanine out of the store.
We part ways and I go home feeling a little better.
Tucking the leather journal away somewhere safe in my closet, I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling, my heavy stomach bouncing around. Caleb was always moving, always. Maybe the baby gets it from him.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Come in,” I call, still sprawled on my back with my legs over the side of the bed.
“Where’ve you been?” Nathan asks and closes the door. The paint smell seems to be bothering him too.
“I just went into town for an hour,” I say, yawning as I raise myself onto my elbows. “You didn’t need the car, did you?”
He shakes his head. I pat the bed beside me and flop back down. I’m shocked when he joins me. His head turns towards me, only a foot away from mine. We share a smile but his fades when I wince a little at the dull ache throbbing in my lower back. “What’s wrong?”
“Back ache,” I admit and wriggle a little. “It’s okay, it’ll pass soon.”
I hear a thud when Nathan slides to his knees by the bed. A squeal escapes me as his hands grip the place behind my knees and pull me off the bed. My body spins until only my chest is resting on the bed and my knees rest on the floor.
What’s he doing? “Nath…”
“Relax,” he commands as his covered fingers lift my top up my back.
I try to look back at him but his hand presses my face back into the bed. Soon his fingers start stroking against my skin. I tense momentarily until they dig deep at the base of my spine and slowly work that area. Oh god, that feels great.
I barely register it when he slides a cushion under my knees, because one hand never stops massaging the aches out of my back.
“Don’t stop doing whatever it is you’re doing,” I groan.
Am I drooling? I think I’m drooling.
He kneels directly behind me to get to all of the right spots more effectively.
My legs slip a little on the floor as I relax deeper into the mattress, the top curve of my stomach touching the side of it. Unfortunately Nathan’s closer than anticipated and as if this position isn’t already awkward enough, my arse connects with his groin.
He tenses and clears his throat, his fingers still on my back.
“Sorry,” I whisper into the quilt and slide forward a little.
“No problem,” he seems to choke out. Then, to make matters worse, he adds, “Your skin is flawless.”
I blink in shock. “What?”
“Your skin,” he repeats and brushes his fingers lightly over the curve of my hips, making me shiver. “It’s flawless.”
“It’s pregnancy, it has many benefits,” I mumble and move my hips a little. “Keep going.”
His thumbs begin to circle once more. Oh god. That’s so good.
“No,” he murmurs, pushing deeper into my flesh. “It’s just you.”
Okay, I’m all for compliments but this is making me feel weird. The position, the touching, and the way he’s speaking... “I feel better now.”
“Relax.” He presses into my back again and I half relent. “What did you do in town?”
“Went for coffee and for a walk.” I groan; that feels amazing. It takes me a moment to collect myself and continue. “Then we went into the book store.”
“It didn’t have anything you like?”
“It did.”
He waits for me to continue but I don’t, I’m too drugged on this wave of relaxation that’s sinking into me; making my skin burn and my blood warm. “Continue.”
“If I do that I’d have to move,” I grumble and feel him laugh silently.
“Just tell me the name of the book.”
I don’t even know my own name right now. “It doesn’t have a name; it’s unwritten.”
“Now I’m intrigued.”
I smile into the blanket, savouring the feel of his leather clad fingers circling and dragging across the skin of my back. Goose pimples swell over every inch of my skin. I feel his thighs brush mine, unintentionally I think; either way it makes me whisper a moan into the peach coloured fabric. My nipples pebble as his hands cup my hips and his groin brushes against me once more.
“I got something for you,” I manage to say, willing myself to pull away but failing. Screams echo through my mind as I chastise my traitorous body mentally.
This time he deliberately presses himself into me. I feel the swelling in his pants and inhale a sharp breath.
This is wrong.
He acts normal even though his own body is betraying him. I feel the trembling in his hands as they explore my skin. “Why for me?”
“I just saw it and thought you’d like it. You probably won’t.”
“I will,” he breathes and his thumbs dip under the seam of my trousers, gently caressing the curves of my behind.
“Nathan,” I warn as his breathing deepens and he presses himself into me once more.
He lets out a quiet moan, almost like a whimper, and grinds into me. Heat pools in my belly, I can’t help it. I’m twenty five weeks pregnant, my hormones are raging. I know this is wrong, so damn wrong.
So why does it feel so good?
“Nathan.” This time my voice isn’t a warning, it’s pleading.
His hands trail down the outside of my thighs, dragging across the fabric as they go. I clench and ache with need. Tingles and fire burn through me when I feel one hand move to the button of my jeans. It slowly begins to peel them open, causing my breath to hitch and my heart to accelerate.
Chapter Seventeen