Long Slow Burn

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Long Slow Burn Page 17

by Isabel Sharpe


  “Not me. You thought of it.” He was grinning, laughing, looking as happy as she felt. “Congratulations, Kim. You’ll win for sure.”

  “It’s perfect. It’s fabulous. It’s—oh!”

  She was back in bed, lying on top of him, but she knew how she’d gotten there. He’d lunged over, snagged her around the waist and brought her back horizontal with him. The kiss he gave her was long and sweet, with promise of more passion. By the time he released her, she was breathless from a different kind of excitement. “We’ve finished working, Kim. Your problems are all solved. Charlotte’s Web is saved. Now we celebrate.”

  “No, no.” She tried to wiggle free. “I’m on fire for this idea now. I want to go right away and make changes to—”

  Another kiss, during which he rolled them with slow, powerful grace, and then she was on her back and he was on top, and her arms went around his neck because there was nowhere else they could go while she was being kissed like that.

  “I want you on fire for me.” He was hard again; she parted her legs to let him settle between. The hot bulge of his erection pressing against her made her desire start climbing again, and with it her fear. She’d survived round one. Barely. But having him make love to her face-to-face…

  “Come on, Nathan. We did this already.” Her voice nearly gave way.

  “Not this.”

  “We shouldn’t get too involved. You’re my roommate. You’re my brother’s friend. You’re—”

  “We’re already involved.” He grinned sweetly. “Deal with it.”

  “Involved how? Sex whenever you want it and nothing else?”

  His grin faded. “Not nothing else.”

  “What else? Exactly?”

  “Kim.” He made a sound of frustration. “Nowhere in the Man’s Guide does it give instructions for discussing the existence of any ‘something else’ that might go with sex. I love being around you. You are very sexy to me. That’s not going to change tomorrow.”

  How about the next day? She didn’t bother. It wasn’t fair to press him for feelings when he was so badly equipped to express them. “You are such a guy.”

  “I am.” He kissed her. “And you are such a hot woman.”

  “Nath—mmm.” He’d begun a rhythmic push that made his erection strain to be inside her, stopped only by the stretching barrier of her panties. “If we’re going to do this, we need a condom.”

  “Oh, Kim.” His lips left a line of passionate kisses on her throat. “Could you maybe break the mood a little more?”

  Kim burst into giggles. “Just being sane while I can be.”

  “You’re right.” He dragged himself off her, disappeared, presumably into his room where he probably used an entire dresser drawer for his stash.

  She sat up, needing this time to regroup. What had Marie said? You will always know when you’re working against your instinct because it will feel wrong. You’ll be anxious and upset instead of nervous and excited.

  How did she feel?

  Kim took a deep breath. Nervous, yes. Excited, yes. None of this should feel as fun and good and right as it did, but if Marie knew what she was talking about, this was truly what Kim wanted.

  Nathan barged into the room, showered the mattress with the contents of an entire box of condoms, and sat next to her, grinning wickedly. “Happy now?”

  She laughed, likely harder than the situation warranted, but yes. She was. Nervously. “I’m very happy, thank you.”

  “Good.” He got that adorably evil glint in his eyes. “Can we do it now?”

  Kim gave him a shove that toppled him over, though she suspected if he didn’t want to fall it would have been like shoving the side of a cliff.

  He bounced back up, then pulled her down with him, and for a long time there was just kissing, long, passionate kisses alternating with gentle brief bites, now sweet, lip tasting lip, now hot with tangling tongues. His hands were still, his body relaxed on the mattress, but his mouth never stopped moving.

  Right away, a test of her strength and decision to go forward. Kissing Nathan like this was so intimate, and so romantic. She kept being jerked out of nice safe arousal by sweet pangs in her chest, by warm thoughts in her brain, thoughts of wanting to be treated like this, cherished like this, revered like this forever. But Nathan had only promised her tomorrow. She wasn’t fool enough to believe he could change overnight. She needed to stay solid, remind herself that her kid brother’s crazy friend happened to have grown up hot enough to set forest fires with his body, and leave it at that.

  Finally, when she didn’t think she could stand another kiss without falling crazy in love with him, he moved from her mouth and used his very talented lips and tongue to pay homage to her breasts. Much safer. That she could enjoy with her nerve endings and ignore with her heart.

  She moaned, encircled his head with her arm, kissing his soft, shampoo-scented hair. His hand snaked down between her legs. He found her plenty ready, but that didn’t stop him from stroking her, making love to her with his fingers until she was shaking with impatience. Her fingers scrabbled around on the mattress until she found a condom, which she very unsubtly shoved at him.

  Nathan didn’t need persuading, but put on the condom while she stripped off her damp panties. He moved over her; she spread wide, waiting for the first delicious thrust, the first joining. It had been a long time.

  Nothing happened.

  She saw him looking down at her with an expression of such tenderness that she gave a tiny gasp.

  “Kim.”

  Danger. Whatever he was going to say, she did not want to hear it. She reached between his legs, took hold of his penis and guided it toward her.

  “Look at me.” Even in his soft whisper, the command was unmistakable.

  She obeyed, and regretted it when that tenderness was still there, when it took on new depth as he pushed inside her.

  “Nathan.” His name was a protest, a plea, a surrender. She didn’t know what she wanted or what she was trying to say. Only that this man was reaching a place inside her that hadn’t been reached in a long time, and she wasn’t talking about the sex.

  He gathered her in his arms, started to move, and helplessly she wrapped hers around him and joined his rhythm.

  Then there was nothing in her world but Nathan, nothing but the slow slide of him inside her, stretching her, filling her, creating friction that would end up tearing her apart. Already she was building, reaching toward her climax, even at this slow, steady pace.

  His body was so clean, so smooth, so male. How would she ever look at him now and think of anything but this? She was nearly lost, probably had been for a while. Marie had seen it. Dale had sensed it.

  Nathan murmured something she didn’t catch. She turned, and found his mouth again, and if kissing had been romantic before, it was twice so now with their bodies joined like this.

  Oh, Nathan.

  No, no, no. Falling for him would be like falling for fog—now you see it, now you don’t. It might show up for a few days, then disappear again, misty and indistinct, impossible to hold or keep. Saying he was changing wasn’t the same as changing. He’d only promised tomorrow…

  She moved her hands down his strong back, the smooth line of his buttocks, felt the powerful muscles clench and release, shooting her desire higher. She trailed a finger down the cleft between, as far as she could reach, then back, then in again.

  His rhythm quickened; his breathing in her ear became irregular and hoarse. She pulled her knees up, shifted so she could reach a little farther, press more deeply.

  He ground his pelvis against her, increasing the friction; a light sweat broke on her body, her orgasm signaling its approach, and her breath came in bursts. She moved her hips more vigorously, inviting him even deeper. Her climax started, hesitantly at first, then increasing to a roaring wave that went on and on. She forgot where she was, lost all sense of herself, hearing herself gasp out little cries, aware of Nathan’s body tensing, his thrusts becom
ing more forceful, increasing her pleasure impossibly more as he pulsed inside her.

  Slowly, regretfully, she returned to reality, stunned and breathless. Nothing in her experience had ever been like that. She’d orgasmed not just with her vaginal muscles but with her whole body, with her brain and her heart and her soul.

  Nathan.

  He lifted his head, and she was looking at the same shell-shocked expression she knew she was wearing.

  Keep it light.

  “Wow.” She smiled, skimmed her hands over his back. “I can see why you don’t have trouble getting women in bed with you.”

  His mouth stretched into a strained grin. “Yeah?”

  “I imagine it’s harder getting them out.”

  “Well.” He touched his nose to hers. “I don’t want you to get out.”

  She laughed. “It’s my bed. Why should I?”

  “Right. Right.” He shook his head, as if to collect himself. “You are incredible, Kim.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled as if he’d told her she made good omelets, and moved, grimacing slightly as if he were crushing her, which he wasn’t. The truth was, his body smelled good and he felt good, and she wanted to snuggle next to him and sleep there all night.

  But if she did that she’d be fully in love with him by morning. She needed to get away from this spell he’d cast over her, needed space to think through what she wanted. This night had blindsided her. How much had he really changed? What would she be risking by showing him more of her heart, knowing how hard it was for him to show his? Only time would tell how he felt about her. And if he stayed in her bed much longer, she’d do something she might always regret. Like tell him she loved him. Like suggest he move in permanently. Freak him out entirely with typical female demands for commitment when he was just taking baby steps toward getting his life together and growing up.

  He kissed her forehead, pulled out of her and grabbed some tissues to dispose of the condom, got up to throw them out. Then, hands on his hips, he stood next to the bed, looking down at her, strong, proud, naked and totally unself-conscious. While she, in contrast, had pulled up the sheet to cover herself, an absurd gesture given that they’d spent the past hours sharing every inch of each other’s bodies. But she felt emotionally naked.

  “You want me to go back to my room.” It wasn’t a question.

  She smiled cheerfully, her heart sore and fragile. “We’ll both sleep better. But, Nathan, really, you gave me such an awesome night tonight. Hope for the Carter bid and two orgasms that nearly took my head off. You’re wonderful. Thank you. I was in bad shape and now I feel really great.”

  He nodded as if she’d given him the answer to a question he hadn’t asked. “Right. Sleep well.”

  “You, too!” She hated the chirpiness in her voice.

  For an agonizing few seconds longer he hesitated, seemed about to say something, then changed his mind and left the room, unaware that he’d taken a sizable chunk of her heart along with him.

  13

  NATHAN WOKE UP WITH that horrible heavy sensation in his chest that meant something bad had happened. A few seconds later, he remembered what it was: Kim. The most amazing sex of his life, during which he’d been thinking weddings, house shopping and babies, and she’d been thinking hey, great lay, thanks.

  How many women had he done this to? A few. He recognized the signs retroactively: facial expression plummeting from smile of pure happiness to stoic awareness of impending rejection. He’d felt it happen to his own face the previous night, and until that moment, he had no idea of the pain that went with it. He, Steve and Kent used to laugh, Haha, women think sex means more than it does, ha-ha. Kim couldn’t have taught him a better lesson or struck a more powerful blow for womankind if she’d sawed off his balls with a dull bread knife.

  Oof. He cringed. Forget that image.

  Well, guess what. He’d read the last page of the Man’s Guide now and was on his own. Any doubts he’d had about being in love with Kim were put to rest when he’d made love to her. The actions were familiar, the orgasms spectacular, but they didn’t even scratch the surface of what he’d felt, how entirely different the act had been from anything that had come before.

  But if Kim could go through lovemaking that intense and act as if it was just another roll in the sheets, then he was nothing more than an erect dick to her. Maybe a good friend with an erect dick.

  Nathan pushed himself out of bed, aware that at the moment he was a crabby, confused, unshowered guy with an erect dick. He wanted to go into Kim’s room, gather her sleepy, beautiful body into his arms and feel her there with him, make love to her again.

  Like that was going to happen.

  What were his options? Move out? Stay here? Keep away from her? Try again?

  He didn’t know. He was entirely inexperienced in matters of love. So inexperienced that though he’d undoubtedly fallen for Kim the first time he saw her back in tenth grade, it had taken him over a decade to figure it out. Nice going.

  His computer was still on; after leaving Kim, he’d worked late into the night on his thesis. Making up the dollhouse plans had been a revelation. He’d wanted to have them for her birthday, so he—or someone—could build her a replica if she ever decided she wanted one.

  In the process, though, something remarkable had happened. The little house’s elegant simplicity had been a joy after the pressures and expectations inherent in his master’s work. When he’d finished and turned back to his thesis, in a lightning bolt of recognition he’d realized his project was a Frankenstein mishmash of green certified products, from mandatory environmental window shades to geothermal heat beds, one “green” element after another stuffed into the design until it was sinking under its own weight. He’d lost sight of the beauty that was necessary, lost sight of design integrity, of the people that would inhabit the place. He’d been thinking only of budget and the LEED platinum rating he’d promised his advisor and his ego.

  To hell with it. He wanted to be an architect, not an engineer, build houses people would want to live in. Inexpensive and environmentally sound, yes, but they also had to be homes.

  Compromise was in order, downgrading the LEED level to gold, silver, whatever it took to sacrifice the least and satisfy the most.

  Finally, his path moving forward was clear. He would finish this project, get a job and learn as much as he could. Someday he’d be in a position to put everything he had into finding materials that could be recycled, begged, borrowed—no, not stolen—so that all his buildings would be LEED platinum and inexpensive and attractive.

  One step at a time. He promised himself to live slower and think more often of the consequences of his actions before he got into another no-way-out bind. Like the one he hoped to God he hadn’t gotten himself into with Kim.

  He took a shower, thinking admittedly less noble thoughts about her, her breasts, the smooth, muscular curve of her ass, the way she gave those sexy gasps when she was getting close to coming. The way her skin tasted, the way her wetness tasted, the way her body squirmed under his tongue’s touch, the look on her face when she went over the top.

  Somehow he managed to keep from coming under the spray, in case a miracle happened and she woke up wanting him again. Ever the optimist, he even stuffed a condom into the back pocket of his jeans.

  He was doomed. He should have himself shredded and woven into a doormat to be delivered here anonymously so she could wipe her feet all over him.

  Toweled off and dressed, he strolled—very nonchalantly, in case Kim had gotten up while he was in the bathroom—into the kitchen. No, she wasn’t up yet. He made coffee for both of them, thinking it was too bad his supply of Alterra beans would dry up now that he was officially unemployed, and settled down with the previous day’s newspaper.

  Kim’s door opened. Her steps shuffled sleepily to the bathroom, then back. Silence for a while, then he heard them again, coming toward the kitchen. He tensed, rattled the paper so she’d know he was in th
ere and pretended to be absorbed reading.

  “Morning.”

  “Oh, hi.” He didn’t sound convincingly surprised even to himself. “Sleep well?”

  “Not really.” She passed him on her way to the refrigerator; he wanted to reach out and hug her close. “I couldn’t sleep after you left so I put in the new material for the proposal. I’ll get it in the mail today and it will arrive Monday, deadline day.”

  Even in his off mood he couldn’t help being happy for her. He looked up from an article he wasn’t reading to give her a congratulatory smile and thumbs-up, noticing she’d changed out of the sexy gown and into her usual sweats and sweater. She still looked incredibly hot to him. Would she ever not? He doubted it. “Carter will give it to you. You’re the best.”

  “If I do get it, it will be because of your idea.” She took out a carton of orange juice.

  “Kim, it was your idea. You deserve all the credit.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought of it if you hadn’t made me talk it through.”

  “Okay, you owe me.”

  She laughed, pouring her juice, completely comfortable around him, as if nothing had gone on between them.

  Damn it.

  He went back to not reading his paper. Live slow. Play it cool.

  A phone rang; Kim grabbed her cell, which she must have left lying on the counter the previous night.

  “Hello?” She look startled, then laughed incredulously. “You’re calling me from Japan?”

  D was for disembowelment, dismemberment, death and Dale.

  Nathan wanted to shove back his chair and stalk out of the kitchen, but that wouldn’t fit in too well with his decision to play it cool.

  “What? Oh, no.” She glanced at Nathan, biting her lip, looking anxious. “No, nothing like that.”

  He stared as she turned away, head bowed to one side. She seemed to want to fold over, retreat into herself. What was this guy saying to her? A rush of protectiveness made Nathan want to grab the phone away and tell Dale what he could do to himself.

  “No, it was great, really. I know. I’m sorry.”

 

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