Then there was the news Allison shared that he didn’t patent one of his drugs. Why wasn’t that well-known? If he wanted to change his image, it seemed like getting that information out into the general public would be a good way. Instead, he wanted a pretend marriage that had all sorts of ways it could go horribly wrong. The man was an enigma.
“Something wrong?” He turned his head to me, and I was up close and personal with his handsome face. Most of the time, Nate exuded power and yes, sex appeal. But up close, his dark eyes had a softness about them. Their warmth made me think of chocolate and puppies and...other things.
“No,” I turned my head forward, looking at the back of the seat in front of me. I was hoping he didn’t catch me staring at him.
“Are you sure? Do we need to talk?”
“Everything is fine,” I definitely didn’t want to have him apologizing for kissing me again. It was depressing that he regretted something that curled my toes and made me dream of him naked last night.
When we arrived back in Virginia, I took him up on his offer to have the day off. I headed straight to my parents’ house to check on them.
“We’re not invalids,” my mother said annoyingly when I let her know I wanted to see how they were doing.
“I know. I just—” I wasn’t sure how to explain that I worried about them now that daily living was getting more difficult for them.
“We don’t want to be a burden on you,” my father added.
We were sitting at the kitchen table, having lunch - ham sandwiches on white bread with chips. Not the healthiest meal, but it reminded me of my childhood.
“Visiting my parents isn’t a burden,” I stuffed a chip into my mouth. “I missed you guys.”
“I just don’t want you thinking you have to check up on us. We get along just fine,” my mother said.
I stood, “Should I go, then?”
“No!” They said in unison.
I smiled and sat down, “Now then, perhaps we can have a different conversation.”
My visit was pleasant after that, but I worried about how I’d get them to move into my place once it was rebuilt. They clearly didn’t like the idea of my taking care of them. Of course, I’d have to get my home rebuilt first. That was why I was doing this crazy fake marriage, I reminded myself.
While my mother rested and my father watched a sports channel on TV, I went back to my room for the book I’d started to gather ideas and samples for my home rebuild. While watching a rerun of Budget Rehab recently, Gabe Sloane’s homeowner, Samantha, was on talking about how she’d put together a book of all the things she’d wanted done to her home. In a wonderfully romantic gesture, Gabe had done all of them. Today they were married. Stranger still was the fact that Gabe was Nate’s brother. Small world. Too bad this fake marriage didn’t extend to telling family members because I’d have liked to ask Gabe about my home.
I didn’t have access to Gabe or Samantha, but I could make a book like she did. I’d already researched ideas on how to make my home easier to maneuver in a wheelchair. The home was a cape cod style, so it had an upstairs, but there was a bedroom downstairs on the main level so I could offer my parents one-level living. There were several steps to get onto the porch and into the house, so I’d need a ramp for them. My mother also loved to cook still, ham sandwiches on white bread notwithstanding, so I’d need to have kitchen counters and appliances that she could reach while in a wheelchair.
I took the journal book I bought, stuffed it with a few pictures and paint chips, and then went to my parents’ computer to research more. Using tape, I began to adhere the pictures and chips, as well as write down my ideas in the book.
I spent a little more time with my parents but declined dinner to head back to Nate’s. On the way, I stopped at the grocery store to pick up some staples and something for dinner. When I arrived back at his place, he was out in the covered porch grilling. I put the groceries away and then joined him.
“Hey. There’s some wine chilling there if you’d like,” he nodded to the wine cooler in the little kitchenette area of his porch. “Are your parents, okay?”
“Yes. They don’t like the idea of me checking up on them, but we had a nice visit. How was work?”
He gave a shrug, “Usual.”
I didn’t buy it, “Something happened.”
He took a drink of his beer, “Things don’t run quite as efficiently for me when you’re not there.” He looked at me, “I hadn’t realized that until today.”
“It’s nice to be missed. Is that all?”
He put his beer down and flipped the salmon on the grill, “I got several questions about whether the honeymoon was over because you weren’t there.”
I laughed.
He shook his head in bafflement, “Why do people care so much?”
“We’re curious social creatures. You could have just told them I was still recovering from all your sexual prowess.”
He looked at me over his shoulder, “You seem to know a lot about it.”
I didn’t want to bring up his reputation again, “You look like a man who knows his way around a woman.” I couldn’t believe I was saying that, and yet the slight pink tinge that came to his cheeks was worth it. Did Nate Sloane just blush?
“I do my best,” he said, turning back to the grill.
“Can I do something?” I asked, changing the subject.
“You can go grab the salad from the fridge and any dressing you’d like.”
I got the items and brought them back out to the porch table. He served the salmon, and we had a lovely dinner outside.
“I’ve never been one to envy the rich, but I have to say, having money does afford you some nice things,” I said as looked over his back yard that looked a lot like an English garden surrounded by woods.
“Like what?” he sat back in his chair, done with his dinner.
“Like this for one. The little extras such as a covered porch with a kitchen. A home in the middle of a city that feels like it’s in the middle of the English countryside. The ability to pay for a home rebuild without blinking an eye.”
He studied me for a moment, “I won’t deny that it’s nice. I don’t think it’s changed me though. I try to use my wealth for good, not evil.” He winked at me.
“It’s not all about the money though, is it?”
He shook his head, “I hope not. I mean, I want the money. I want this IPO to go well. But I’m not focused on just getting rich. I’m already rich.”
“You want to help people with your work.”
“Yes. I know people see me as a rich, shallow horndog, but I like to think there’s more substance to me.”
“What about the Parkinson drug?” I asked, seeing an opening to find out why he’d kept that a secret.
He frowned, “What about it?”
“If people knew about that, they wouldn’t see you as a horndog, or at least not only as a horndog.”
He took a sip of his beer, watching me over the bottle as he did. I tried not to squirm. He replied, “Maybe not shallow. The horndog…well I earned that.”
I cocked my head, “You earned more but didn’t tell anyone.”
“I see what you were talking to Allison about. Now I wish you were comparing prowess notes.”
“I have no notes to compare with her,” I said, annoyed that he was avoiding talking about the good he’d done.
He looked like he was going to say something, but he bit his lip, as if he was holding it back, “I don’t do this to get accolades. I’m not a saint.”
I shook my head, trying to figure him out. I could see the tension in his features.
“What?” he sounded defensive.
“I can’t decide if you’re uncomfortable with people knowing you’re a good guy or if you just prefer to be seen as a horndog.”
He turned his gaze out over the pool and garden, and I wondered if I’d tapped into something.
“Nate, you do know that letting the world know abo
ut your good deed improves the company image, which can help this IPO and the company in general?”
He laughed derisively, “Oh yeah, Allison told me all about that. Of course, investors want to make money. Giving away your goods doesn’t make money.” He stood, picked up our plates and the salad bowl, and headed back inside. What was it about this that had him all bothered?
I followed him into the kitchen, “I’m sorry if I’ve hit a nerve. To be honest, I don’t get it, Nate. Why don’t you want people knowing what a good guy you really are?”
He whirled around, surprising me. I stepped back, hitting the kitchen table. He moved closer to me like he wanted to make sure I was going to get his message.
“All this that you think is so wonderful,” he held up his finger making a circle with it to indicate the lavishness of his home, “I get this off the pain and suffering of people - real people. I’m not going to boost my ego off of them too. Not getting a patent, giving away some drugs at cost or even free, that’s my way to make it better for them, not me.”
Wow. At that moment, I saw an amazing man filled with passion for his work, and a need to keep the focus on the people he was trying to help. He was sexier than I’d ever seen, and I really wanted to kiss him.
I swallowed hard.
He stepped back, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare—”
“I’m not scared. I’m…”
He waited for me to answer. “What?” he prompted.
Since he was so honest, I decided I would be too, “I admire you.”
He shook his head, clearly not liking that. He started to turn away.
“And...I wanted to kiss you.”
He jerked back. Our eyes caught and electricity arced between us. For a moment, we just stood, staring at each other.
“I promised you I wouldn’t touch you,” he said in a rough voice that sounded like he was having to hold tight to his reins of control.
I wanted him to let go, “Do you want to touch me?”
“More than I want my next breath.”
Ohhh…his words were like a caress against my core. I ached with a need only he could fulfill. “I want that too.”
“Your next breath or for me to touch you?” His body was radiating tension, like a coil so tight it was about to break.
“For you to touch me,” I barely had the words out when his hands were on me, and his lips were consuming mine. My body filled with liquid heat as he pushed me back against the table.
“Please tell me you’re sure,” he said as his hands slid under my shirt and touched my skin.
“I’m positive,” my fingers shook as I worked the buttons of his shirt loose.
He tugged my shirt over my head. “Fucking fantastic,” he murmured when he saw my breasts. He kissed the top of one and then the other while he unfastened my bra clasp and pulled the fabric away.
He held one breast in the palm of his hand, “Magnificent.” Then he leaned over and sucked on my tender nipple. I cried out as pleasure shot through me. “I’ll hate myself if, when this is done, you have regrets,” he said as he laved his tongue over the other nipple.
“I’ll hate you if you don’t keep touching me,” I was sure I’d die if he didn’t keep going.
He straightened, pulled me off the table, undid my shorts, and pushed them, along with my panties, down. He did it quickly and efficiently, an indication he’d had lots of practice. I pushed away the self-doubt that his skill, compared to my own limited experience, brought.
He maneuvered me back onto the table, and then dropped to his knees, pushing my thighs apart.
“Same color,” he murmured “and wet, so wet.”
What was it with men and wanting to know if a redhead’s pubic hair was the same as their regular hair? Was it a check to determine if the color was real? Did that happen to blondes too? But I didn’t have time to ask as he dragged a finger through my folds, flicking over my clit, effectively pushing all intellectual thoughts out of my head.
I gasped and ran my fingers through his cropped, dark hair, urging him to take what his position between my thighs promised.
He followed his finger with his tongue, humming out an “mmmm” sound. Or maybe it was me moaning because his hot tongue on my center was the most delicious feeling.
“You taste divine,” he used his tongue on me again. He must have been toying with me before, because all at once, his mouth was on me, devouring me.
I cried out as heat shot through me. He was sucking my clit, and then his tongue was pushing inside me. It was a barrage of pleasure and torment all mixed together as need coiled tighter and tighter in my center.
“Oh God…Nate,” I felt like I was going to combust.
“You going to come?”
“Yes, don’t stop…” I pushed his head back to my pussy.
His fingers spread my pussy lips, and then his tongue was on me again, fucking me until my hips were rocking. He thrust his tongue inside me, and then rubbed my clit with his nose, and everything went white-hot as my orgasm blasted through me.
I cried out, my body writhing as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through me. I was gasping for breath when he stood, tossed a condom on the table, and then undid his pants, shoving them with his briefs down, down, down.
I looked at his dick, so long and thick and amazing. God had been extremely generous to him.
I reached out and stroked him, but he growled and pushed my hand away, “Sorry. No time for that.” He sheathed himself and then stepped between my legs. “Tell me again you want this, Hallie.”
I placed my hands on his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his waist. “I want this Nate.” Oh God, how I wanted him. Even after the most amazing orgasm, I wanted more.
He hooked his arm under my knee and lifted my leg higher as he pressed his cock to my entrance.
He looked at me like he needed reassurance again.
“Fuck me, Nate,” I didn’t know how else to say it and begging seemed more accurate anyway. “Please, Nate, please.”
He let out a low, feral growl and pushed inside me. Holy hell he was thick and long, and each delicious inch he filled me with was like getting closer to heaven itself.
“Yes, God Nate…so good.”
He withdrew and then slid in again, steady, deep.
“More…” I dropped my head back, as need ratcheted up.
He thrust again and again, each time a little bit faster, with a little bit more force. His voice rained down over me, “Fuck…I’m going to come.”
I lay back on the table, no longer having the strength to hold myself to him. I gripped his hands that were holding hard to my hips as he let go of his control and chased his own release. It was spectacular to watch him move. Power and grace, all coiling tighter and tighter. His face grimaced in pleasure and pain.
He groaned, “Come on, Hallie...come on my cock.”
His words pushed my own need up to the edge. I teetered for a moment, and then he thrust in, ground his pelvis against my clit, sending me soaring into oblivion.
I cried out as my orgasm slammed into me again. He yelled, as his own release took control, and he thrust inside me, again, and again, drawing out my pleasure until finally, he collapsed. He fell forward, resting on one hand on the table next to me. He lowered my leg and then set his other hand on the table.
He took long heaving breaths, not much different from mine.
“Oh fuck,” he said between harsh breaths.
Was that a good or bad ‘oh fuck’?
He lifted his head, “You okay?”
I nodded, “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“No reason.”
“Are you okay?” I asked, not sure how to read the situation.
“I’m fucking awesome,” he grinned and kissed my mouth with his soft, teasing lips. Finally, he straightened and held out his hand to help me sit up. He kissed me again, but our breaths were still labored, and he broke away. “When I catch my breath, I’ll want to do that again.”<
br />
“I’m ready now.”
He laughed, pressing his palms to my cheeks, “Perhaps you’re the one with all the sexual prowess.”
Complications of Sex
Chapter Nine: Complications of Sex
Nate
I woke to a painful woody and images of fucking Hallie. Had it all been a dream? I turned my head and, holy fuck, it wasn’t a dream. Hallie was in my bed. A flood of images filled my head; fucking Hallie on the kitchen table, taking a swim and fucking her in the pool, and finally, bringing her to my bed, and yes having her there too. Her body was lush, soft, tight, and I had to have her again.
I reached over to my bedside table to get a condom. I sheathed my fully erect dick and moved in behind her, spooning her, and lightly caressing her arm, down and over her hip. Her skin was so soft and warm.
“Mmm…good morning to you too,” she whispered as she wiggled her ass against my erection.
“I was afraid you were a dream, but here you are,” I kissed her shoulder as I reached my hand around her to feel her pussy. Wet. Thank fuck. I lifted her leg and slid my dick along her folds, loving the moan she made as I did.
“I’m not a dream,” she said.
“Just in case, it’s about to get real.”
I rarely had sleepovers with women. It was usually better to keep the sexual relationship to just sex and not muddy the waters with domestic activities such as spending the night and having breakfast the next morning. But Hallie was my fake wife. At least, that’s how I justified fucking her, not just in bed, but again in the shower, that morning, and then making her breakfast.
It wasn’t until I was in my office, away from her beguiling smile and luscious body, that I questioned the wisdom of not just sleeping with her but having sex with her at all. She worked for me, Goddammit. How dumb was it to sleep with my assistant? If I hurt her, she’d leave and after yesterday in which I didn’t know what reports were in, which were due, and where to find answers, I knew I needed her to keep my business running at full efficiency. If we fought, she could sue me for harassment. Or worse, what if she fell in love with me? I liked Hallie and enjoyed her company as well as her body, but I wasn’t a man that had marriage in his future. There was no better reason than that to not have sex with her, despite how disappointed my dick was at that news. Instead, I needed to focus on this IPO. I also needed to fulfill my end of the deal I’d made with her around this fake marriage.
Her Hero Boss Page 6
