Made to Love

by Medina, Heidi

  I was wrong before. I would’ve survived had he said no. But, this? This I couldn’t possibly survive.

  Nathan buried his face in the bed beside my neck and thrust deep one last time with a growl, then stilled, his body covering mine, chest heaving. We lay there, shuddering, breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His heart was beating so rapidly, I could feel it thumping against my ribs. Or maybe it was mine. I could no longer tell. Aftershocks rippled through me, and I clenched around his cock, making him jerk with a muffled grunt. I reached up and ran a hand through his damp hair.

  It had never been like this. Ever. This hot, this fast, this frenzied, this amazing. In the single span of a John Legend song, Nathan had effectively ruined me for sex with anyone else.

  Nathan

  I opened my eyes, her neck filling my vision. I took in the wisps of hair that stuck to nape, the tiny earlobe, the red marks that peppered her skin, courtesy of my teeth and five o’clock shadow. I had marked her, and my chest swelled in pleasure at the sight.

  My gaze dropped to the pulse point below her ear, and I watched as her blood pumped violently beneath her skin, matching my own thunderous heartbeat rushing through my head. I was crushing her, I knew it, and should probably move off of her, but I quite simply didn’t have the energy. I had engaged in my share of vigorous, rowdy sex that had left me tired and sore, but none of that came close to what had just happened. This woman, with her ridiculous rules, and who had completely thrown me off guard by appearing in my bathroom doorway—what, no more than ten minutes ago?—had made me come faster, harder and more violent than I’d ever done before, leaving me feeling completely and utterly drained. If someone was to break in at this moment, I had no doubt I would continue to lie here with Reagan, and let the man clear the place out. I felt that drained.

  I told myself the mind-blowing orgasm—cliché, I know—was mind-blowing simply because I’d wanted to fuck her from perhaps the first time I’d saw her. I attributed it to the buildup, the anticipation. Yet even as I mulled this over in my muddled, post-coital brain, I knew it wasn’t entirely the truth.

  She reached up and tangled her fingers in my hair, running them through it, sending goose bumps down my back. I felt myself thicken inside her.

  Already? Apparently I wasn’t all that tired after all.

  I moved then, lifting myself up to look down at her. Her long, dark hair spilled in a tangled, wet mess over the comforter that I hadn’t even bothered to throw back before depositing her on the bed. Her lips were swollen, her dark amber colored eyes guarded, and her body was sticky with sweat.

  She was quite possibly the most beautiful sight I had ever laid eyes on.

  “Hey,” I whispered. There were so many things we should probably talk about, but I couldn’t seem to remember a single one, nor did now feel like the time.

  “Hey,” she whispered back. Her gaze shifted to the bathroom and then back at me. “Your shower is still running.”

  Shit!

  I didn’t want to move, but figured I’d better remedy the situation. “So it is.” I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead and then rolled off her to stand up. “Just a sec.”

  I stepped over wet footprints in the carpet and headed into the bathroom. The shower door hung open, the water having gone cool. I turned it off, shut the door and then inspected the damage. Aside from a few scattered puddles of water amidst the piles of our discarded clothes, it wasn’t too bad. I grabbed a towel off the rack, threw it down and hastily spread it around with my foot as I pulled off and discarded my used condom. I unplugged my iPod and practically sprinted back to the bedroom.

  Only to find it empty. The bedroom door was cracked open.

  She’d left.

  I was already shaking my head as I stalked the short distance from my room to hers and pounded on the closed door. I was just raising my hand to pound again when the door opened slightly, and she filled the small space. She’d dressed in another pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt, and her hair hung in heavy locks over her shoulders. Her eyes widened as she took in the naked sight of me, hard and standing at attention. Again.

  I fisted my hands, and felt my nails bite into my palms, as I resisted the urge to fling open the door and fuck her senseless. “What are you doing?” The bigger question was what was I doing, pounding on her door, naked, in the middle of the night like an idiot.

  She pulled the door open a bit wider, her eyes darting back down to my cock, before finally settling on some imaginary intrigue just over my shoulder. “What am I doing?” she repeated. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Here?” Well of course, here. I had given her the room for her use, after all. But that was before.

  “Well, I thought. . . .I wasn’t sure if. . .” she shrugged as her words trailed off.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. She wasn’t sure of what? That I wanted her in my bed? I thought I had just proved in the last half hour, quite thoroughly, I might add, that I did. My voice softened. “Okay. I know you’ve laid out some ground rules for us, rules you feel are necessary. And I’ll adhere to them, even though I don’t understand them. But I have a few rules of my own.”

  She quirked an eyebrow, and tilted her head. “Such as?”

  “Such as, when a woman shares my bed, I expect her to stay there, or at least tell me why she’s leaving. Not go scurrying off in the middle of the night. It isn’t good for my ego.” Not true. I had more or less kicked more than my share of women out of my bed once the sex was done. I didn’t need some trust fund princess hanging around and getting too hopeful.

  But I was finding the thought of spending the night in this house, after what had just happened between us, with her in a separate room, completely unacceptable.

  So a rule it was.

  I held out my hand. Things between us were new, fragile, and a long time coming. I probably shouldn’t be pressing my luck at the moment. But the woman had just climbed into my shower, commanding that I fuck her. I’d be damned if I’d let her retreat so easily.

  She let out a soft whoosh of breath, before reaching out and clasping my hand. I didn’t hesitate further, and pulled her to me. I cupped her cheek with my other hand as I leaned down to kiss her. Her mouth opened willingly beneath mine, and I slipped the tips of my fingers inside the hem of her t-shirt, slowly sliding it up toward her ribcage. She shivered and raised her arms over her head, letting me pull the shirt off, and I tossed it across the hall.

  I lifted her by the waist, and she locked her ankles around me. I carried her back to my room, one of her glorious tits in my mouth, and the other in my hand. She moaned and pulled on my hair, her head thrown back in abandon.

  Nope, not tired at all.

  But now, I wanted to take my time. Explore her, pleasure her, find out all the ways I could make her scream. I wanted her deliriously sated, sore and thinking of no one but me when I left for my meeting in a few short hours.

  Chapter Twenty

  Reagan

  I don’t remember much about the first few hours after finding my dead mother. From what I’ve been told, which was little, Jacob found me lying next to her in her bed, perhaps an hour or so after I’d discovered her, my arm wrapped around her middle. I wouldn’t speak to or look at him. He made sure Alex was occupied in their room before running outside, yelling for help. Someone called 911 and within minutes the police, EMT’s and other various people crowded into our small, pitiful home. I didn’t speak to or look at any of them either.

  It wasn’t until one of them attempted to pry me away from my mother’s lifeless body that I came alive. Apparently, I’d tightened my arm around her, stiffening and refusing to move, until some well-intentioned EMT had wrapped their arms around my upper body in an effort to forcibly pull me away. I’d erupted in a fit of incoherent screaming, clawing and biting, forcing the EMT to abruptly drop me back on the bed, where I’d landed on top of the corpse of my dead mother.

  It was then that I’d passed out.

  I’
d been hospitalized, and remained unconscious, for three full days before waking up and discovering the social workers at my bedside. Mom had already been taken care of, it seemed, and all that was left to do was deal with her three children.

  FOUR, I wanted to scream. There were FOUR of us. But Charlie wasn’t around and no one asked about him, so I kept silent.

  Upon discharge, I became a ward of the state and joined Jacob and Alex at a state home for orphaned children. Foster families would be looked for, but as it was explained to us, we needed to be realistic. The chances we would remain together were slim. Jacob had sat between Alex and me in the administration office, holding our hands, as we’d digested this bit of news. We’d been through so much, but we’d survived it together, and the idea of being separated was unimaginable.

  It was three days later that they came to take Alex.

  Warmth flooded my face, and a burst of light burned its way across my closed eyelids. I groaned in protest and scrunched my shut eyes tighter against the intrusion. But the sun was relentless, and the damage had already been done.

  I was awake.

  In Nathan’s bed. Where I had spent several hours in the night exploring his naked body. My stomach fluttered nervously as I opened my eyes, lifted my head and slowly turned to look behind me.

  He wasn’t there.

  I stared at the rumpled comforter and sheets, at the indent in his pillow where his head had been. Feeling like an idiot, but unable to bring myself to care, I wiggled over to his pillow and buried my face in the cotton fabric. It smelled like him. I smiled against the pillow before flopping over on my back, dragging it with me and securing it against my side. If I hadn’t already been remembering last night, the movement certainly reminded me. I was sore. My arms and legs felt wooden, and between my legs was achy and tender.

  Now, in the bright light of day, I couldn’t believe I’d been so bold as to just waltz into his shower and strip, but I wasn’t going to allow myself to regret it. I’d just had the best sex of my life, with the man I’d been fantasizing for weeks about, and so I wasn’t going to feel sorry about that. Where we went from here was still uncertain, and of course fucking him had done nothing to erase the giant elephant that was my past, but it was a start for now.

  Speaking of, where was he?

  Not wanting to be caught cuddling with his pillow like some freak suffering from a fatal attraction, I tossed it aside and sat up. I glanced around the room, and saw my shorts and t-shirt lying neatly across a chair near the bed. Squirming against the familiar tingle forming between my legs at remembering how he’d flung them both from my body last night, I slid out of bed and put them on. It was then that I noticed the slip of paper on the floor between the bed and the chair. It must have fallen when I’d scrambled over in my haste to inhale his pillow.

  I had to head in to my meeting and didn’t want to wake you. I figured you

  Were pretty tired ….exhausted. Make yourself at home. I’ll be back for lunch.

  Nathan

  I smiled and shook my head after reading his words. Exhausted, my ass.

  I padded to the door and peeked out. Ridiculous, Reagan. He isn’t even here. I headed into the guest room, grabbed my things and went back to his bathroom. It was then I caught my first look at my post thoroughly-fucked-by-Nathan-Preston self.

  Good god!

  Nathan’s lips, tongue, teeth and hands had been on every inch of my body last night, and my face flushed as I surveyed each reminder left behind of his pursuit. My hair was a tangled mess, and my lips were still slightly swollen and tender. Red tinged scrapes covered my lower jaw and neck in a bad case of whisker burn, and I had a noticeable hickey just above my right boob. Heat prickled along my skin as the mental image of his mouth sucking on my skin flashed through my brain. Damned if I didn’t wish he was here right now, using that beautiful mouth of his to ease the ache forming at my core.

  I closed my eyes against the image, and took a deep breath. What was this man doing to me?

  I showered, then dressed in jeans and a soft blue vee-necked t-shirt. It did nothing to hide the marks on my neck, but successfully covered the hickey on my chest. While I was completely turned on by the idea that Nathan had left such a mark on me, there was no need to be a walking advertisement about it.

  Brushing out the tangles in my mass of hair, I left it down to air dry as I cleaned up the bathroom and made the bed. Not wanting to be presumptuous, I opted to leave my things where they were in the guest room. Besides, we were only here for one more night.

  I grabbed my phone and made my way back out to the kitchen. I wasn’t sure what Nathan was planning for lunch, or what time “I’ll be back for lunch” was. It was already after ten. I didn’t know if I should be preparing myself for his imminent return, or if I had a bit longer to myself. I guess I’d just wing it.

  I spied a Keurig on the counter opposite me, and noticed another piece of paper beside it, giving me instructions to brew any of the k-cups I wanted. There was even a mug waiting patiently by the sink. My stomach did a tiny somersault at Nathan’s thoughtfulness, and I wondered if he would ever cease to amaze me.

  Coffee in hand, I turned and surveyed the living room area just off the dining area. The room had floor to ceiling windows and a sliding glass door set that led out to a large private deck. I flipped the lever on the door to unlock it and slid it open to step outside. I settled in a deck chair and pulled out my phone.

  “I was wondering when you’d call. How are you?”

  “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been. . .busy. I’m good,” I answered.

  Helen chuckled. “Just good? Work going okay?”

  “Work’s great.” My heart hammered in my chest as I bit the bullet and just went for it. “I actually met someone.”

  This was met with thundering silence. Never, in all of the ten years I had lived with Helen, had I ever spoken about any of my relationships. I wasn’t sure why I was even doing so now, except everything seemed different this time, I felt different, and I was suddenly seized with the desire to share with the one person who knew me best.

  “Hello? Did you hear--”

  “I heard you fine. I’m just processing it.” Another pause. Then, “You met someone. Where?”

  Where? It was a question I didn’t want to answer, because quite honestly, I didn’t want to hear any lectures on dating in the workplace. I was already worried enough about that tiny detail all on my own. I definitely couldn’t tell her he was my boss. I decided to be vague. “I met him through work. He’s friends with one of my co-workers.” I wasn’t really lying, right? Nathan was friends with Bailey—at least they were on speaking terms, so I considered myself justified.

  “Hmmm,” Helen murmured. “And how is that going?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know yet. I mean, it’s okay right now. . .but, I don’t know if. . .I don’t really know.” It was the truth.

  “Do you like him, Reagan? I mean, really like him?”

  I closed my eyes against the sun and remembered the feel of Nathan’s hands and mouth on my body. Hell, yes, I liked him. “Yeah, I think I do.”

  “Then don’t overthink it. Maybe it ends up being nothing, but you might just find yourself having a good time with a great friend, if nothing else.” Her unspoken suggestion that I could use a good friend, or two, hung in the air between us.

  I hung up after a few more minutes of catching up, and then stretched lazily in the sun. It had to be close to eleven o’clock now and surely Nathan—

  My heart fluttered as I heard the glass door slide open behind me. And damn if my breathing didn’t kick it up a notch. I stood, turned to face him and stopped short. He strode purposefully out onto the deck and didn’t stop until he reached me, grabbing the back of my head with his hand and smashing his lips to mine. His mouth was hot, and his tongue everywhere. I couldn’t stop the whimper in the back of my throat as I stood on my tiptoes, spreading my hands across his back. Moisture pooled between my legs and I presse
d myself into the hardness against my lower belly.

  Nathan tore his mouth from mine only long enough to yank my t-shirt over my head and toss it aside. Unclasping my bra, it soon followed the shirt and his mouth returned to wreak havoc on my neck as he palmed both of my boobs, sending shivers down my spine. He began taking steps backward, tugging me with him, until we were back inside the living room.

  We made it as far as the couch.

  “Best lunch hour I’ve ever had,” Nathan mumbled, his face still buried in the couch cushions beside my head. “Ever.”

  They were the first real words spoken to me since he’d arrived home from his meeting. I pressed a kiss into the crook of his neck in response, waiting for the blood rushing through my ears to quiet and for my heart rate to return to normal. He leaned up on his elbows, and brushed my damp hair from my forehead. After a soft kiss to my cheek, he pulled out and off me, shifted to the side and pulled me back against him. His dress shirt lay open, and the heated skin of his chest pressed against my naked back.

  We lay there entwined, his arm resting snug against my waist, but leaving my arm free. I reached down and laced my fingers through his, bringing our hands up to kiss each of his knuckles. This touchy-feely stuff wasn’t like me, and I didn’t know where it was coming from. Routine demanded that I get up, dress, and put some distance between us, but at the moment, I felt like telling routine to fuck off. I snuggled back against Nathan, relishing in the feel of his body behind mine.

  “You keep wiggling that ass of yours and I’m gonna break my promise. Again.”

  I turned my head slightly to look back at him. “Promise? To who?”