by Soraya Lane
“Honestly. Except for when I was a teenager and we used to sneak girls into the house. But that was a different bed.” He looked out at the view again, leaned back into the sofa, and stretched out his legs, his thigh still hard against hers. “I don’t like complications, and I like to keep this place private. Life’s busy these days, and coming home is my sanctuary. It has to be or I wouldn’t be able to shut off from work.”
“Meaning you don’t want me here?” she asked, her voice lower now.
He turned back to her, tugging the tie out of her hair and making it tumble around her shoulders. He stroked it, the strands having a strange calming effect on him.
“Meaning I don’t want just anyone here,” he told her, meaning every word. “You’re different.”
“Because I’m Sam’s little sister?”
“No, because you’re you.”
They stared at each other, her eyes locked on his. He had no idea what was happening between them, how he’d ended up betraying his closest friend by doing something he’d sworn never to do, but he had, and all he could do now was live with the consequences of his actions. He didn’t want to hurt Sam, but there was no part of him that could push Faith away now she was here with him.
“I stayed away from you for so long, Faith,” he said, studying her face, the angles of her cheekbones, the fullness of her sinful lips. “I was so good, but being that good just doesn’t come naturally to me.”
“What do you want from me, Nate?” she asked, her voice husky. “Is this just between you and me? A secret that we’re never going to share?”
He groaned as her hand landed on his thigh, her fingers stroking over his jeans. “I want you. Now. Tomorrow. Yesterday.”
“But that’s all this is? Sex?”
Nate pulled back, forced himself to stop even though his body was begging him to change his mind. What the hell was he doing? The whole reason he was supposed to steer clear of her was so he couldn’t hurt her, break her heart, and he hadn’t even been clear with her about his intentions.
“Faith, I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”
“Please don’t tell me you want something more from me?” she asked. “Don’t ruin what we have going on.”
He raised an eyebrow, taken aback. “You don’t want any more? You don’t have any, ah, expectations?”
She smiled, just one corner of her mouth tilting up, and stroked his face. Her touch was light, impossibly gentle, and it made him only want to be rougher with her, to take her right there on the sofa.
“I thought I made it clear last night,” she said. “I want you to be my teacher, Nate, to have fun until I find somewhere else to go. No strings, no emotions. I don’t want any commitment from you.” She sighed. “One day I’ll be valuing beautiful art and putting collections together, and maybe I’ll be ready for a real relationship then, one with a picket-fence future, but not right now.”
He grunted. Was she serious? “So just fun and sex?”
“Just fun and sex,” she repeated. “And it can stay just between the two of us.”
“Deal.”
She tossed her pastry over onto the other sofa, her eyes wide as she raised both arms and looped them around his neck. “So no falling in love with me, okay?”
“Sure thing,” he replied. Only trouble was, for the first time in his life, he was with a woman he could actually fall for, no matter how badly he wanted to make sure he never, ever let his guard down and let someone too close. There were things in his past that made him want to keep a part of him hidden away, closed to the world, forever, and he had to make sure that nothing, even Faith, came close to getting through.
Faith rose and sat astride him, her hair falling down and covering his face until she scooped it up and placed it over her other shoulder. She kissed his mouth, lips warm and moist, plucking at his in a way that got him hard real fast.
“What is it you want me to teach you?” he asked.
“Everything,” she replied, staring down at him. “I want to be good. . . .” She sighed. “I want to know what I’m doing.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you need any pointers. Haven’t I made that clear already?”
She sighed again. “Not what I’ve been told.”
He pulled her down closer to him, breasts crushed against his chest. He was obviously going to have to try harder to get her to believe that she had nothing to worry about. “Some guys get off on making women feel incompetent,” he murmured in her ear, running his hands up and down her back. “Me? I get off on women feeling sexy and confident. Real men like to see a woman enjoy sex as much as they do, okay? So if it’s feeling great for you, it’ll be feeling damn good for me.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m not into lying, especially in bed. If I say something it’s the truth; you can trust me,” he said with a chuckle. “How about we get started and I can tell you just how amazing you are?”
She laughed. “Nate, be serious.”
“Oh, I’m serious.” He flipped her so she was beneath him, pinning her arms above her head. “But how about I get things started? Then you can take the lead?”
She willingly gave in to him, eyes popping open when he stroked her cheek. Nate had been fantasizing about her for so long, pleasuring himself and imagining her naked, and the reality was even better.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he muttered, taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking just hard enough, making her moan. “And I want to do so many wicked things to you.”
She fought for her hands and ran them down the firm muscles of Nate’s back. “So start now!” she demanded, forcing his head up and planting her lips on his.
Now it was Nate groaning. “You’re trouble.”
Faith giggled and dug her nails into his butt. “I know.”
“So tell me,” Faith said, stretching out alongside Nate and smiling up at him. They were still outside—he’d sworn there was no chance of anyone being able to sneak up on them, which she seriously doubted, but she’d decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “What kind of woman would make the infamous Nate King settle down once and for all?”
He chuckled, stroking her arm, his touch light. “A woman like you.”
His words were as soft as his hands, but they still took her by surprise. “Like me?” she managed.
“I’m happy being a bachelor,” he said, “but if I was ever crazy enough to settle down, then yeah, it would be a woman like you. Beautiful, caring, determined . . . hell, I don’t know. You’re just you; I can’t describe it. And I’ve been warned away from you for so many years that I haven’t let myself think about how incredible you are, until now.”
It was as far from the answer she’d expected as possible, had shocked her into silence. “But you don’t want to, settle down, I mean?”
He dropped a kiss to her lips, his gaze hooded, propped up on one arm looking down at her. “No.” He frowned. “I thought we’d discussed all this just before.”
“We had, only I still don’t know why you’re so determined to stay a bachelor, especially now your brothers are both happily married.”
“If I was the only son to the King fortune, hell, I’d be making sure I had heirs to take over the land and businesses one day, but that’s not something I have to worry about thanks to Ryder and Chase.”
“So you just think about it all as some kind of business arrangement?” she asked, perplexed. She didn’t want to get married or serious yet, but to never want to? She just didn’t want to put her dreams second to anyone else’s, but that didn’t mean she wanted to end up a lonely old spinster. She’d presumed Nate was the same—too busy for marriage now, but it was something he’d want in the future.
“Not for my brothers it’s not; I mean, I don’t think that. Hell no. But me? I don’t know. I’ve got too much to do, too much to achieve. And I just don’t . . .”
“What?” she asked, snuggling closer to him, not wanting him to just stop talking when he’
d been so close to letting her in. She might not understand him, but she wanted to hear what he had to say.
“Look, I have my reasons. Can we just go back to not being so damn serious?”
Faith reached up and kissed Nate, wished she hadn’t pushed him so far. It was none of her business; they were having fun and that was that. But she’d known him way too long not to care about him.
He rose and reached for her clothes first, passing them to her before pulling his own on. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bite your head off like that.”
“No apology necessary.” She pulled her top over her head and ran her fingers through her hair. She’d brushed it out when she’d risen from bed, but now it was all tangled again, thanks to Nate loving to rough it up when they were intimate.
“I might not want anything more than fun right now, but I do give a damn about you, Nate. Always have, always will.”
He smiled and reached for her hand, linking their fingers before standing and pulling her up, too. “I know you do. And the feeling’s mutual.” A look crossed his face, pulled his eyebrows together as he looked back up at her. “You know, I could ask the same about you. Why the hell are you so determined not to be in a relationship?”
“Maybe I’m just all kinds of fucked up after the excellent example my parents set of marriage.”
“Swearing doesn’t suit you,” he said with a frown. “I’m a goddamn cursing machine, but every time you say the f word it makes me . . .”
“What? Want to tell me off because you still think of me as the kid sister?” she interrupted, trying to be serious but unable to hold back her chuckle.
“I think it’s fairly obvious I don’t think of you as anyone’s kid sister after what we’ve been doing.” He reached for her hand. “But back to my question.”
“How about we save that conversation for another day?” she said.
“You don’t want to talk, that’s fine by me. I just didn’t pick you for a no-strings-attached kind of affair. Then again, you’re on the rebound.”
“How about you stop asking questions and make me a coffee with that fancy machine of yours? Then we can eat the rest of your even fancier bakery goodies instead of talking?”
He slipped his hands around her waist, hands on her backside as he shoved her forward against him, his mouth rough on her now where before it had been soft. She loved the change in him, how he could go from gentle lover one minute to rough and wicked the next.
“I’d eat you up if I could,” he murmured against her lips. “And I don’t give a damn if you don’t want to talk.”
“Once again,” she whispered, “the feeling is most definitely mutual.”
She squealed when Nate slapped her hard on the butt, escaping and running inside ahead of him, her feet bare and her hair loose. She felt good. Better than good, she felt amazing, like her old self, like there was nothing in the world she couldn’t accomplish if she set her mind to it. She’d always had big dreams, to have an art gallery of her own one day, to become one of the most respected women in the art industry once she’d finished her post-grad, and she just needed to find her feet again and make it happen. Nate was fun in the bedroom, but he was also one hell of a businessman, which meant there was more than one thing she could learn from him.
He caught up with her, grabbing her from behind and planting a wet, delicious kiss to her neck. Although right now she was happy with him just teaching her all the bad things he knew. They could talk business another day.
Chapter 10
“Stop!” she called out, so exhausted her legs felt like they were about to collapse beneath her.
Nate spun around, jogging backward as he watched her. “We’re almost there.”
She groaned. “Has anyone told you what a cruel taskmaster you are?” Faith dropped to the ground, head between her legs. She actually felt like she was about to be sick, which was the last thing she wanted to do with Nate watching her. She could have blamed it on the alcohol in her system, but she’d hardly had a lot to drink, and it was hours ago. Almost twenty hours ago to be exact.
He jogged back toward her then, she could feel the vibrations through the grass, and he blocked out all the sun as he stood towering above her.
“I thought you liked running?”
“Yeah,” she scoffed, “for a few miles at a decent pace.”
Nate laughed and she snapped her head back up to glare at him. “Sorry. How about we walk the rest of the way back?”
“You run. I’ll walk,” she told him, wishing she’d just taken the opportunity to stay at the house and lie in the sun or flick through a magazine. Hell, she’d probably have preferred cleaning the kitchen to keeping up such an insane pace alongside Nate for so damn long.
“I’m used to running with Chase,” Nate confessed, holding out a hand to haul her up. She took it, grudgingly, but she still appreciated the hand up. “We’re pretty hard on each other, but we’ve been training together a while.”
“Yeah, and I’m the featherweight in comparison. I shouldn’t have tried to impress you.”
“Darlin’, you’ve already impressed me today. The fact that you kept up for that long like it wasn’t killing you?” He dropped a kiss to her forehead and she winced. “What, you don’t want me to kiss you anymore?”
She frowned. “No, I don’t want you to kiss me when I’m all sweaty and gross.”
“Maybe I like the taste of your sweat,” he teased, wrapping his arms around her and pushing his pelvis. “Maybe it turns me on.”
“I’m starting to think everything turns you on,” she grumbled, but it was hard to stay annoyed with him when he was looking at her like he was about to eat her. The wicked look in his eye almost made her forget all about her burning calves. “Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen such a sex maniac as my teacher.”
His laugh was almost as wicked as his smile, and his wink made her knees go weak again. She really needed to get a grip on the effect he was having on her.
“What fun would a sex teacher be if he wasn’t?”
She made a noncommittal sound in her throat and pushed back from him. “Come on; let’s get this run over with and then you can make me something to drink. Something cold and alcoholic that’ll start to numb me before the pain hits.”
“Deal.” He held up his hand for a high five, but she just stared at him. “Or not. Come on; let’s go slow.”
She forced her body into a slow jog beside him and winced. She shouldn’t have stopped. Taking the break had only made her body seize up, and she was ready to collapse for the rest of the day. If not the entire month.
Nate was lying on the sofa, stretched out in just a pair of jeans, his hair still wet from showering and a bottle of beer in his hand. He was waiting for Faith to join him, although he was starting to wonder if she’d gotten out of the shower and just fallen straight into bed.
He was about to haul himself up when she appeared, wet hair loose around her shoulders, wearing boxer shorts and a little blue tank. Nate cleared his throat and took another sip of beer, trying not to stare at the fact that she had no bra on and her nipples were hard enough to make them visible. If Sam even knew the thoughts Nate was having about his sister, let alone what he’d done with her . . . He pushed those thoughts from his mind. Right now he was operating on a what-Sam-doesn’t-know-won’t-kill-him basis, which was only applicable given the fact that Faith had wanted to keep what was happening between them secret, just like he did.
“You still want to murder me?” he asked.
“Do you have another cold beer for me?” she asked back instead of answering him.
“Yep.” He motioned to the fridge. “Grab a bottle and come crash with me.”
She groaned and did as he’d suggested. “I want to kill you less now that I have beer.”
He grinned. “Says the girl who never drinks beer.”
“Yeah, I know. But I’m so hot still. And sore.” She stretched in front of him, arms reaching for the ceiling and her top riding
up high, showing off her flat, tanned stomach.
“Come here,” he grumbled, sick of looking without touching.
“I’m not having sex with you,” she muttered, lying half on top of him, half on the sofa. “I’m dying here.”
“I like you for more than just sex, if you really want to know,” he said, stroking her lazily. She might be feeling annoyed-exhausted, but he loved the way working out made him feel. If his body wasn’t aching then he hadn’t run hard enough, and the fact that he was tired from sex and running was enough to keep a smile on his face. Besides, it didn’t take him long to recharge. Nate flexed his hand, wincing. The only thing that annoyed him was the fact that his hand hurt like hell when he moved it a certain way after having to deal to Faith’s ex. If it wasn’t pain-free by morning he’d be taking a trip past his doctor’s office to get it checked, but for now Nate was choosing to ignore it.
“Do you like me enough to talk business?” Faith asked.
He shifted his weight so he could look at her properly. “Are you secretly here to unearth secrets about me? Because I don’t give interviews, I don’t like journalists, and I sure as hell don’t like undercover ones.”
“Nate, I . . .”
He laughed. “Sweetheart, I’m just kidding. Well, I’m not actually, all that was true, but I trust you.”
“I just, well, I want to be successful,” she admitted. “I want to make something of myself.”
“Well, you’re talking to the right person.”
She scoffed. “Either you’re making fun of me or your ego is stupidly big.”
Nate leaned closer so he could plant a kiss on her mouth. “Neither. What I meant is that I take success very seriously. Plenty of the businesspeople I deal with might call me an asshole because I’m tough when it comes to the deals I put together, but you’ll never hear me telling someone they can’t reach the goddamn sky if they make it their goal.”
She sighed. “So you wouldn’t laugh at me if I said I want to be the most successful female art consultant and trader in Texas?” Her voice was softer than usual, uncertainty clear in her tone.
