Girl-Nerds Like it Longer (Erotic Romance) Book 4

by Dunning, Rachel

  "It's just...that last bit. He...seemed...regretful."

  "Yeah," I whispered. The tape felt like a ten-ton weight in my hand.

  "That's the whole reason you left him, wasn't it? Because you thought he was a slimeball."

  I nodded.

  "Layla, the sex part I didn't give a shit about. Didn't bother me at all. You're a woman, we were broken up. You had sex with another man. Your business. But the look on your face now is bothering me..."

  "Yeah..."

  I was speechless.

  "Look," said Clayton, "you just have to decide. I mean, you're with me now. You have to decide if you want to continue being with me and let bygones be bygones, or if you want to go off chasing what could have been. It's your choice. But, Layla, if you go, I can't do it again. I can't."

  "I understand."

  Clayton got up off the bed. "Well, then." He eased two hands on either side of my neck and then kissed me on the forehead. "I love you, OK? And because of that, I'm gonna let you figure this one out. But look, Layla, figuring it out doesn't mean fucking the dude again, OK? That wouldn't be cool."

  "I hear you."

  He walked out.

  When the door closed, I called Nathan. "You're in town?" I asked.

  "Why, sweetheart, I am. Nice to hear your voice." His manly rumble rolled over me like the gears of a massage chair.

  "It's not that kind of call, Nathan."

  "Lay...la. There is only one type of call between us. My place in thirty?"

  -16-

  When Rock Solid Nathan Lockwood with Green Eyes from the Garden of Eden opened the door, I actually swayed back on my heels for a second. If there was one thing he always oozed out plenty of, it was sex appeal. And it would seep out in thick, oily drops of it.

  "Lay...la," he rumbled.

  "Nathan."

  "You're looking...casual." I was wearing my holey jeans...and a different football sweater that didn't have puke all over it.

  "And you're looking...almost naked."

  "I'm barely naked, babe."

  He was naked enough, and his tribal tattoo shone brightly over his entire left side. Even his toes were perfect.

  I confess, though, he was indeed wearing slacks. But seeing his chest and ab muscles shimmering under the interior lighting was making me have physical reactions that I just didn't want to have. He might as well have been naked.

  "Are you gonna invite me in?"

  He moved easily out the way, brandy glass in hand. By the sway in his body, I could tell it wasn't grape juice in there this time. And when I walked past him, the aroma confirmed it.

  "Not letting up on the juice, are ya?"

  "Fuck me, babe. Life just ain't that much fun without it."

  Whatever.

  "So, to what do I owe this honor?" he asked.

  I sat on the couch, the one I'd sat on the day he'd dripped grape juice on my nub, each drop a crashing slam of ecstasy. That would have been in the second part of the video that he never recorded.

  "I've come to close ties off with you...for good. And I've also come to ask...a favor."

  He stood by the corner of his glass table. His eyebrows raised. "A...favor?" His lips tugged upwards. "What kind of favor?"

  "We'll get to it. First...you and I need to end things properly."

  "Properly?"

  I swallowed a lump. "Uhm...yeah. I might have been a little...harsh on you."

  "You think?"

  He sat down on the couch across from me.

  From his bedroom, I heard a lyrical voice call out with a Spanish accent, "Oh, Naaaaaaaathan? You coming over baby? I've got that underwear on for you..."

  I cocked an eyebrow. "You thought I was coming here for..."

  "For sex?" he said. "I confess that I did. And...well...I was gonna offer..."

  "A threesome?"

  "Yes."

  "I see. Rules have changed, I guess."

  "Men who don't change, die. You interested?"

  "Like I said, it's not that kind of visit."

  "So, you really meant that shit, huh?"

  Shit? "Nathan, look, I can come back another time. I mean, I actually just really wanted to clear the air with you."

  "Baby, you know, I'm horny as a motherfucker. I got a Latino gal in there with straight black hair down to her ass. And she's all natural huge... I'm afraid that, if you wanna talk, I'm not gonna be thinking about anything other than opening your sweet legs wide and riding you until you scream blessed mercy in my ears."

  Hot damn! Now, when all that shit is said in a drawling US southern accent, you gotta believe it's hard to resist!

  "Nathan, I'll come back another time. Please, understand, it's not that kind of visit. I wanna clear the air. And I need a favor."

  "So you said, honey bun. Look, sweetie, don't go. Please. Pour yourself a drink. Let me handle my urges and then you and I can talk, OK?"

  "I'd much rather—"

  "Please, honey. Please don't go. You're right. We need to clear the air. I haven't been the same since you left..."

  "I'll wait outside."

  "It's freezing outside."

  Yeah, but it was getting too hot in here! "I'll wait outside."

  Nathan moved on over to his bedroom and I heard the yelp and whimper of Ms Latino as he no doubt got on top of her. I poured myself a water because I just couldn't take anymore booze. But when I heard her crying out, "Oh, Nathan. Oh, fuck me, honey. Mmmmmmm. Mmmmmm. Oh, yeah!" as well as the slamming of the bed against the wall, I decided to indeed load up on some more liquor.

  The sounds brought back too many memories of me in this room, in this house, living with him.

  I was riveted to the ground now, stuck in some self-inflicting punishment that I couldn't stop. Just like I'd been when watching those damn videos of Clayton earlier! Sucker for punishment.

  Nathan roared, "Oh, yeah. Ooh, yeah. Oh, Eva, Oh, god!"

  Eva. Nice name.

  They seemed to orgasm. But...knowing Nathan, I figured he'd go another round. At least one more.

  "Ooooh, yeah," he said. "Ooooh, GOD!"

  Yip, another round.

  The whole thing was making me horny...and confused...so I grabbed the brandy bottle and took it outside with me.

  One of two things was gonna happen here tonight, of that I was certain. I was either gonna slip up, and end up fucking Nathan and ruining my chances with Clayton. Forever.

  Or I was going to resist him and thereby know that, even if there was still chemistry there for him, I was truly free of him. And know that I could finally focus on what I had with Clayton.

  Even from outside I heard her howls. Nathan Lockwood could always please a woman.

  After three more glasses of brandy on my part, he came outside in a white robe. I was shivering by now. "Come inside, baby."

  I did.

  "Eva" was on the couch. Completely nude. She was a bombshell, long legged with honey-colored skin. If I'd been into women, I'd be shooting out moisture right now.

  But I'm not, and I wasn't.

  She was totally relaxed, but her nudity was making me uncomfortable.

  "Is this the girl, Nathan?"

  "Oh, honey bunch, Layla's not a threesome kind. I'm sorry. I promise, next time, OK?"

  "Oh, what a pity. I was so looking forward to a little girl-on-girl while you put it in my ass, baby."

  Gulp.

  "I know sweetheart, another time. Now, if you don't mind, Layla actually wanted to...spend some time with me...alone."

  "Oh." Her face went a little serious, then she grinned. "A little one-on-one, eh? No problem. Do you want me to video?"

  "No, sweetie pie, thank you. You can video with another girl, yes."

  "OK, baby. You know, I'm ready for one more time. Would you give me a goodbye fuck?"

  "Well..."

  I said, "Nathan, go ahead. I'll...be outside."

  The woman was so hot for him that I felt bad taking her fun away.

  I went back out and
drank another brandy. Eva screamed another ten gazillion times. Nathan roared another five bazillion. I poured another two brandies. By the time he came outside in a robe again, my eyes were almost closing.

  "Coffee?" he asked.

  His voice stunned me. "Uhm, yeah, sure."

  He made me coffee and I sat inside on the much warmer couch.

  "You coulda stayed inside, you know? Eva wouldn't mind."

  "Yeah, I was OK outside."

  "They say it's gonna snow soon. You must be freezing."

  "No, the brandy was good."

  He sat on the couch across from me. I excused myself and went to the bathroom and splashed water on my face to wake myself up. I didn't want this conversation to wait any more than it had already.

  I got back to the lounge and saw Nathan downing whiskey now.

  "You really not gonna quit the drinking?" I asked.

  "Honey, I quit for seven years. Most depressing time of my life. I fuck like a man and now I also drink like a man. Damn hell, I wanna die like a man, too. What's the point of being alive if you're not actually living?"

  "Not my business."

  "So, what can I do you for?"

  I looked at his face to judge how sober he was. He actually looked pretty damn sober to me. More sober than I was at least. "Nathan, I just wanted to...ahem...apologize for...the way I reacted."

  He stared at me.

  "Nathan?"

  "Uhm, yeah, uhm, apologize?"

  "Yeah. I think I might have overreacted a little. I mean—"

  "You know I got rid of all that shit, don't you? I did. I deleted everything, every video. Hell girl, I even called up some o' them girls I videoed and told them what I'd done."

  "And?"

  "Some were OK. Others said they'd sue me. None o' them have so far. It's a new leaf, Layla. You taught me something."

  "You're kidding, right?"

  "Am not! As true as the Lord is my savior."

  "Don't tell me you've become a Christian."

  "Hell no, sister. I'm a sinner—always was, always will be. But it's a good southern saying, so I use it. Goddamn is another good one. I prefer that one."

  "Are you sure you're sober?"

  He put his drink down, lowered his voice. "Honey bunch, I'm fucking wit' you, OK? Truth is, it hurts me to see you so close to me and not be able to run my hands over your tiny legs, your delicate ass. It hurts that I can't put my tongue in between your legs, front and back and lick you deep and slowly. It hurts that I can't put myself inside you and then have you hold me afterwards, closely. You were the only one who ever saw through the façade, baby. So, if I don't joke, I'm gonna get depressed.

  "Layla, you don't need to apologize. I love you. I've loved you from the first day you and I made love over by that counter over there. I knew it then already, knew it by your eyes. By your touch. Crazy? Maybe. I'm a crazy man. But it is what it is. And then, when we did it on that couch you're sitting on right now, and you told me you 'understood something' in me, my heart melted. You broke through that protective wall I carried around everywhere. Truth is, around you, I'm a defenseless man.

  "So, I joke now. But I'm sober, honey. I could drink a whole bottle o' brandy and I'd be sober. Bourbon? That's different. But I'm not that kinda drinker anymore. Not often, anyways. One or three glasses is all I drink of that a night. This is my first one." He held his whiskey glass up.

  I was too stunned to speak.

  "Layla, you don't need to worry, I've only loved two women in my life. First one left me. I was a teenager then. Didn't even really know what love was. After that I started boozing. Second one was you. And I'm the one who fucked it up, so I can't blame you. I ended up pushing you away. I don't care if you don't love me back—"

  "I do love you, Nathan."

  "Say what?"

  "I said I do love you. There's only one problem."

  "What's that, honey?"

  "I love someone else more."

  -17-

  I'd realized what love is. I'd realized it even before Nathan opened the door. I'd realized it when I'd been with Clayton earlier.

  Love is the ability to let someone go, if that's what makes them happier.

  Just like Clayton let me come here tonight. And let me make my own choice.

  "So, all the time we had together," Nathan said, "wasn't nothin'?"

  I shook my head. "I'm sorry if I gave you that impression, Nathan. I just...had to figure things out for myself first."

  "And you figured them out?"

  "I did. I think I finally did."

  "Well, good for you, honey. I can't explain what you've just done for me. I can live with you loving someone else more. I'm cool with that. Love's relative anyway, isn't it?"

  I shrugged. I got up and moved round the table to him. "Nathan, don't stick your tongue out when I do this next thing, OK? I actually have a boyfriend now."

  "Do what next—?"

  I pressed my dry lips against his and smelled his musk while I held his cheeks in my hands. A tear actually broke loose when I kissed him. Because I think it was truly the first real kiss he and I had ever shared.

  No brick walls in the way. No more armor.

  No more bad girl and bad boy.

  I did love him. Loved him because he was who he was. Just like he loved me because I was who I was.

  We loved each other as we were, no lies.

  He behaved, and kept his tongue in his mouth like I'd asked him to.

  I moved just slightly away, our lips now only about an inch apart. His green eyes burned with fervor. "In case I never made you feel it," I said, "I just want you to know that I do and always will love you. You'll always be my Nathan."

  I saw his chin quiver, as well as his eyes. "I—I—I don't know what..."

  I put my finger on his lips. "If you promise to keep your tongue in your mouth, I'll kiss you again."

  Cheating on someone you're with is like the US government looking into my Gmail account. It's just wrong. And unforgivable. And even though Clayton had said I shouldn't fuck Nathan, tongue on tongue is already cheating by my logic.

  "I promise," he said.

  I bent down again and pressed my lips to his, and we held each other like that for a minute, breathing each other in through our noses. I don't know about him, but it was hard to keep my own tongue in my mouth. But I did it. My lower back finally hurt too much, and I moved away and straightened up.

  "Hell," he said, "no wonder I didn't drink when you were with me. Your kiss is the best goddamn booze a man could ask for!"

  "So, we're good?" I said. I stuck my hand out for a shake.

  "Honey, we're good." He shook my hand, then he brought it to his lips and kissed it as if I were some Southern Belle. "But your dry-lip kiss made my cock hard and I'm gonna have to ask Eva to come on back over."

  "You do that."

  "Unless, of course..."

  "No, baby. I can't. I'm with someone now."

  "I hear you. Now, darling, you said you needed a favor. I'm a man at your service. Like I said, what can I do you for?"

  I sat next to him, stretched my arm out on the back of the couch. "I have a problem. Actually, my boyfriend has a problem. Well...and me."

  "Uh-huh?"

  "You told me you work with network security. High-level stuff, right?"

  "That I do."

  "And you're rich."

  "All the qualities necessary in a good man."

  "Someone's locked down all their accounts from me and put a private eye on me."

  "Damn! Who?"

  "My boyfriend's ex."

  "Fuck me sideways. She sounds insane."

  "She is."

  "And this boyfriend would be the one you love...more...than me?"

  I cleared my throat. "Y—yes."

  "Well, a man's gotta give respect where respect is due. So, what do you need?"

  "Whatever you can do. I'm locked down by this bitch. If I had balls they'd be in a vise. I can't go near her online
accounts. I don't know if I'm being watched. So I can't get any dirt on her. I'm screwed."

  "And you wanna do what exactly with her? I mean, what result are you looking for?"

  "I need her to get the fuck outta Dodge. I need her to back off!"

  "You got a name? Address? Social Security Number?"

  "She's British. So, no social security. But I have a name and address."

  "You got any moral dilemmas or conscientious objections as to any methods I might use to, um, 'settle her down'?"

  "With this chick? No fucking ways."

  "Oh, Layla, don't use the word fuck around me. You bring back too many memories."

  I almost stroked his cock. Almost. Lord knows I wanted to, just a friendly pat. But when you're with someone, that shit just ain't friendly. So, instead, I stood and kissed him on the forehead, with my tongue this time. Wetly.

  As I was walking out, I heard Nathan on the phone. "Eva, sweetheart. I need you, babe. And I need you bad!"

  -18-

  Analyzing dreams is not a very scientific activity at all. All it takes is a little logic and whole lotta sense. You don't need to study for years about the id and the ego and repressors and all that bullshit. Most people know what they're dreaming about anyway, and why.

  That night, I dreamed about robots. Horny robots. Who all looked like Nathan, and who had tongues the length of a chameleon. Which were licking me.

  Lasciviously.

  Now, I don't think I need to explain the sense and meaning of that dream to you, now do I.

  -19-

  I told Clay the next day that I saw Nathan. I also told him that I loved him—loved Clayton, not Nathan—with all my heart, and that I only realized this now.

  Finally, I told him that, just as I had to sort out my own feelings for someone else important to me, I wanted him to do the same.

  He never asked me if Nathan and I fucked. He wanted to show me that he could trust me. But I could see in his hurting eyes that it was all he was thinking about. So I told him the truth... Everything except the fact that we dry-kissed. And that I told Nathan I loved him. That's between me and Nathan, and always will be.

  I knew in my heart that Clayton needed to do the same, that he'd need to confront his Whitney Thompson body-double sugar-mommy and answer, for himself, if he really loved her.