Still, I have to tell him the truth first, before he touches me, even if it means he’ll probably never lay another finger on me again.
It’s the right thing to do, even if it sucks.
I’ve waited so long, I hope he’ll understand why, that he’ll be able to commiserate.
The plans I had originally all changed once we met. Now, I want him to be with me any way I can have him.
I didn’t think he would ever want me.
And after we talk tomorrow, before I leave so he can have the weekend to ‘think things over,’ he may never speak to me again.
Being unable to sleep last night worked out for the best since I was able to prepare four different meals for Nash.
And after debating it with myself until the early morning hours, I decide to wait until I get back to talk to him since he’s probably still asleep anyway. Giving him too much time to think without me around to apologize constantly could work against me.
At least that’s what I tell myself when I go up to his apartment and sneak in before ten, figuring he will still be asleep… and Nash comes walking out of his bedroom already wide awake and dressed, his hair still damp from his shower.
“Oh, hey! I’m just dropping off some premade meals before I leave,” I say in a rush.
“Thanks,” he says, coming over to the kitchen and resting his elbows on the counter as he watches me turn away to load up the fridge.
God, he looks more delicious than anything I could ever dream of cooking.
My cheeks are now blazing red since the only thing I can think about around him is sex.
“Do you have your phone?” Nash asks.
“Ah, yeah, why?” I ask in confusion after I close the refrigerator door.
“I figured you should have my number in case anything comes up. If you have car trouble or whatever this weekend.”
“Yeah, okay, thanks,” I reply when I retrieve my phone from my back jean shorts pocket. We exchange numbers in the same stiff and awkward manner as the rest of today’s conversation.
“You could call if you get bored too,” Nash tells me as he rests his arms casually on the bar counter again. “Or need to vent.”
“Thanks,” I say yet again, stuck with the polite chitchat. I need to snap out of this. If Nash wants to fuck me, I can’t act like a total dweeb around him or he’ll change his mind.
If I tell him the truth, he’ll definitely change his mind, my conscious reminds me, but I ignore that bitch.
Wetting my dry lips, I decide to sound sexier and more confident than I really am about his proposition. “Maybe I’ll Facetime you when I get back to my room tomorrow night, before I take off that red dress,” I tease.
That has him straightening up in a flash and juggling his phone that he almost drops. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Tomorrow night would be good. It would be nice to see your face and whatever else it is that you might, you know, want me to see…”
Hearing how flustered that one suggestion made him makes me feel like the most powerful woman in the world.
“Okay, so it’s a date tomorrow,” I say on purpose unlike my silly slip last night.
“Yeah,” Nash agrees. “And if you want to Facetime tonight when you get to the hotel, I’ll be around to talk.”
“Sure,” I reply, unable to hide my smile. And because my confidence is suddenly high, I go around the bar and throw my arms around Nash’s neck to hug him goodbye before I leave him.
It’s the first physical contact I think we’ve ever really had, and it feels so nice to be pressed against his hard body that’s especially rigid against my stomach as he hugs me back. It’s crazy to think I did that to him. For a few more seconds, I soak up his warmth and his leather scent before finally making myself let him go.
Dammit. Before I leave, before I can be with Nash Sunday, or Facetime him tonight, I come to terms with the fact that I have to be completely honest with him no matter the consequences. Nothing is more important to Nash than loyalty, which is why I hope he won’t think what I’ve done is a betrayal.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I whisper, dreading having to say the words.
As I try to pull away to look him in his face, Nash’s palms press harder against the small of my back, holding me closer. Then, his lips come crashing down on mine before I can say another word.
It feels like I’m being kissed and attacked all at the same time thanks to his forceful dominance. I wouldn’t expect anything less from the outlaw biker or change a thing.
As I kiss him back, I start melting in his arms, molding my body to his like I want to be absorbed by him. When Nash reaches down to hike my left leg up on his hip, I feel his steely length drive into the seam of my denim shorts, causing me to moan into his mouth.
I was right about this man. His only speed is zero to fucking in sixty seconds. There’s no doubt in my mind he would be inside me already if not for several layers of clothing…and the ringing of a phone that just won’t shut up, interrupting us, again. Our lips eventually separate, both of us panting for breath when the damn phone refuses to give up. It’s probably best, though, since we need to talk before things go any further…
“Shit, that’s me,” Nash says when he finally recognizes the ringtone. That’s more than my hazy brain can accomplish at the second with the heat rushing through my veins, making my knees weak. “It’s Malcolm,” he says before he puts the device up to his ear. “This better be important,” Nash grumbles, and I’m thrilled that he’s not happy about having to stop either.
While I adjust my glasses, I can’t hear what Malcolm says to him, but whatever it is makes Nash frown harder.
“Right now?” Nash repeats. “Give me half an hour,” he tells him as his heated amber eyes hold mine. His left hand has also slipped behind my back and snaked up underneath my shirt, coming to a stop on the clasp of my bra. But with a heavy exhale, Nash’s hand falls and he mutters, “Fine. I’m on my way.”
He’s kidding, right?
“You’re leaving?” I ask in disbelief. “Now?” The throbbing in my panties is demanding more and right this second.
“Sorry,” he says, reaching down to adjust his cock in his jeans, telling me he’s just as disappointed. “Malcolm says it’s urgent, and I need to hurry.”
“Fine,” I say with a sigh, since I guess our talk will have to wait. It’s a sign that I should wait. “See you Sunday?”
“Yeah, see you then and talk to you later,” Nash agrees, pressing one last quick kiss on my lips before he rushes out the door, asking me to lock up when I leave.
I’m so ridiculously happy standing there in the middle of his apartment that it takes me several minutes to compose myself enough to leave. Honestly, I’m still not sure that just happened – that Nash kissed me and it almost led to more.
After turning my key in his lock, I practically float down the steps to my apartment.
I’ve just gone inside to grab my luggage when I hear several heavy footsteps on the stairs, then a loud banging before a man’s voice bellows, “New Hanover Sheriff, open up!”
The pounding picks up again, and it’s so loud and forceful that the pictures on my wall bounce.