by Joya Ryan
“Actually, yeah, a little,” he admitted. “Among other thoughts. But I guess you come around and make it hard…” He paused for dramatic effect. “To focus.”
She gave a little scoff that sounded more like a laugh. “Well, you make things difficult.” She ran her finger up and down again then glanced at his mouth. “What other things did you think about?” she asked softly.
Honestly? He thought about her in everything. And for no particular reason nor anything specific. He thought of her smile, her eyes. Wondered what she was wearing and if she was baking. Tried to picture her in her life, even though he knew he could never be a part of it in the way he wanted. Pictured her in his bed…waking up with her. That could never happen, though. He’d be run out of town because Beaufort wasn’t big enough for the both of them. Lemon-Anne would disown him—heck, knowing her stern standards, she might disown Natalie, too, for having scandalized the family name. And he’d lose everything—his friends, the only family he knew… But he didn’t want to focus on that now. He only wanted Natalie.
But he couldn’t tell her that. That kind of pressure would be so unfair. And he didn’t do relationships. He couldn’t. So instead he went with—
“I thought of your taste. The sweet vanilla.” She glanced up at him, and he ran his finger under her chin. “Do you think of me?”
“I thought of how I need the van keys,” she said.
He laughed. She wasn’t pulling any punches, and he kind of liked it. It kept his ego in check. But then she blinked twice and admitted, “I thought of your skin.”
“My skin, huh?”
She nodded. “You have ridiculously soft skin.”
That made him frown. “Um, by soft skin, clearly you mean rugged, manly skin.” He held up his hands and waved his palms. “Calluses.”
She just laughed and placed her whole hand on his chest and rubbed slowly up, then back down. “Sorry, buttercup, but you’re a softy.”
“Nope, no way,” he said, and flexed his pec for effect while her palm was resting over it.
“Yep,” she argued. “Your hands may be rough, but your skin, like right here”—she placed her hand over his heart—“is super, super, soft.”
“I can guarantee there’s at least one hard thing about me,” he teased.
She didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, I know. You’re hard everywhere,” she agreed. Her hand trailed lower until she reached the waistline of his shorts. “Especially your…” He took a deep breath, but right when he thought she’d grab his straining cock, she said, “Head.”
She pulled away and started to walk toward the door.
What the hell? She’d gotten him worked up on purpose and was now walking away?
“Whoa, that’s pretty rich coming from the stubbornest woman I know,” he called.
“You have a hard head, Easton. That’s not my opinion, that’s a fact. And I’m not stubborn, I’m just usually right. There’s a difference.”
“Where the hell are you going?”
“Home, to get ready for my date. Call me when you find the van keys.”
She went to open his front door, but he was on her in two seconds flat and kept her inside. He whipped her around and pushed her back against the wall.
“You’re toying with me, baby. And that’s not nice.”
“Just like you toyed with me at that CPR class?”
“I did not…” Okay, he did. A little. But not to embarrass her. He did it to be near her. “I just wanted you for a second.”
“In public? With all the women staring?”
“Yes!” he admitted. Because deep down, he wanted everyone to see him with a woman like Natalie, to pretend, for a single stolen moment in time, that he deserved a woman like her.
“I want you, Natalie.”
She shoved at his chest and lifted her leg to his hip to keep him close at the same time. She was hot and ready, and he was, too.
“That’s an awful thing to say,” she snapped.
“That I want you? Jesus, woman, you’re so damn frustrating. You don’t want me to want you?”
“No! And I don’t want to want you.”
“But you do,” he growled. He cupped her thigh and tugged her so close that her skirt hiked up, and he pressed his hard cock against her core. “Admit it. You want me.”
“I do,” she said. “But I also hate it. And this is just another moment, and nothing can come from it. So what’s the point?”
Good question. He had his best friend, his family, and Natalie herself on the line, and all for what?
He looked her dead in the eye and knew the truth right then. A small taste of her was better than nothing. And the risk, he was realizing, was like chasing the drug he couldn’t have. It didn’t change the fact that he’d keep chasing, consequences and all.
“I’ll take the moment over nothing,” he admitted. He felt a little shocked by it. He glanced down and saw a flash of red lace between her legs and thanked whatever God was listening.
“I’ll take the moment, too,” she said, and pulled him close for a kiss. He was gone for her. He didn’t think of anything but needing to be inside her. Reaching between them, he ran his thumb along her panties and felt a small square. It almost felt like a…
“Condom?” he asked, grabbing the tiny package from her panty line. “You totally played me. You were ready and wanting me the whole time.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
Oh, she was good. She came in here with clear intentions, then threatened to walk out on him, only so he could chase her.
“You’re going to pay for that sneaky trick, baby.”
“I hope so.” She smiled.
With that, he crushed her with a punishing kiss and pressed her further into the door.
“So you were ready to be fucked wherever I chased you to, huh?” he said. He tugged off her sweater then returned to her mouth.
“Yes,” she said with no shame. And he loved it. She pulled on his shorts, and his cock sprang free, the throbbing head hitting the inside of her thigh.
“So sure I’d come after you?” he asked. He tugged down the thin red silk of her bra until it bunched under the soft, pale mounds of her breasts. He bent to taste the creamy cleavage and then sucked gently on a pink peak.
“No,” she whispered.
He stopped, but she held him close.
“No, I wasn’t sure you’d come after me,” she said with a breathy tremble in her voice. East looked at her. There was something very vulnerable in those wide eyes of hers. He just shook his head. He didn’t know what to say or how to tell her that of-fucking-course he’d always come after her.
Instead, he kissed her hard, showing her, making her feel how much he wanted her. How she made him this crazed. How she made him chase.
How she made him do the one thing he’d never done before: want more.
She wrapped her arms around him, and he worked the condom onto his erection as he kissed her mouth, her neck, her jaw.
“Please,” she whispered in his ear. “I need it…I need you.”
That was all he needed to hear. He hoisted her up, and she locked her legs around him. He reached between them and pushed her panties aside. He rested the tip of his hard cock against her opening.
“I’ll give you what you need, baby,” he promised.
Another time he’d fuck her against the wall, but right then, he wanted to play out one of the fantasies that wouldn’t leave his mind: her in his bed.
He’d had her there once, and he wanted her there again.
“Please… Now, Easton,” she begged as he carried her down the hallway. He couldn’t deny her. He stepped into his room and shifted his hips just enough to breach her. “Oh yes.”
He loved hearing her happy. He was only half way in when he laid her down on the bed.
She cupped his face as he followed her down, never leaving her body. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his neck. Her eyes were squeezed tight, and he just let her kiss him while he watched
her. He felt her relax against his mattress. Like she was comfortable. With him. In his home. In his bed.
As her soft hands stroked his hair, she whispered his name between kisses, and that was the moment—
He drove the rest of the way inside her.
One hard, consuming shove of his hips. He felt her gasp, and so he breathed for both of them. Just like at the damn class, only better.
Her legs were still locked around him, and their clothes were distorted, but he couldn’t stop to pull away and get completely naked. He just couldn’t leave her body.
So he stayed.
Something he wasn’t known for.
Stayed right with her. Kept his mouth on hers. His body in hers. His heart against hers.
He thrust deeper. Shifted and stirred, hitting her every way he could without retreating.
“Yes, oh, yes. More. Don’t go. More.” Her words were broken, and he felt them vibrate against his lips as she said them. She wasn’t retreating, either. She kept every part of herself on him, and he realized he’d meant what he’d said.
This moment was better than nothing. Better than everything.
She pulled him even closer, her legs locking tight, her breasts pressed against his chest. It felt like an earthquake surrounded them, but it was his pulse and hers, hard and fast and in sync with each other.
“East…I’m coming,” she whispered. It wasn’t a clawing, gnashing kind of pleasure, it was calm and smooth and deep. He knew because he felt it wash over her. Felt it wash over him.
“Let me feel you, baby.”
She nodded and did. And it was the best damn gift he’d ever gotten. The first tremble of her arms and squeeze of her sweet core was all it took for him to follow her down. His own orgasm hit, and he twitched and pulsed as she milked him, and they carried each other through to the other side.
He’d never come at the same time as a woman before. And yet, part of him felt like he shouldn’t be surprised because everything with Natalie was different than with any other woman.
They stayed wrapped around each other for several moments. When her legs unlocked, he realized he must be crushing her and hoisted himself up onto his arms. But the loss of her skin against his was so chilling he almost fell right back on her.
She adjusted and he let her get all the way up. “Be right back,” he said, and went to the bathroom to take care of the condom.
When he returned, Natalie was sitting in his bed, combing her fingers through her hair, her pretty red bra back in place and her skirt smoothed down over her flawless legs. God, she was beautiful.
“Well,” she said with a sigh and patted the bed, “I don’t think the van keys are here.”
He smiled. He was still in his gym shorts and though his cock should be going back to normal, he couldn’t help but stay a little hard for the sexy, sassy woman currently looking so perfect in his sheets.
“You can have the van. I’ll get you the keys by tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. When she moved to get out of his bed, panic washed over him. Like he didn’t want her to leave, not the moment and not him. Like he might never see her again…
A flash of the last time he’d seen his mother hit him hard and fast. Once she left, there was no getting her back.
He shook his head. Where the hell had that come from?
He didn’t know, but the heat of fear spread across his chest, and he held up his hand to stop her.
“Wait. You have to help me,” he said.
She settled back in his bed, still sitting up and facing him. “What do you need?”
“I need…” I need you. To stay. To just wait until this awful sense of abandonment leaves. He sure as shit wasn’t saying that. But he could say part of the truth, which was that he wanted her to stay. “Just sit there. Listen.”
“Okay,” she said slowly.
He came to the foot of the bed, and then it hit him—the excuse he’d been looking for.
“I have to practice my best man speech.”
“Oh!” she said, as if that made sense. “Well, I’m happy to be your audience. You know what they say if you’re nervous. Picture the audience in their underwear.” She glanced down the front of herself and held out her hands. “So I guess I’m kind of perfect.”
You have no idea.
“Yep,” East agreed and moved his palms together as if warming them, slowly pacing and trying to think of what the hell he would say in his speech. “So, I guess I’ll just start…”
She nodded, attentive, her back straightening.
“Ah, welcome everyone. Matt and Bridget just got married.” He paced some more. “Love is nice and when you fall in love…you get married…” He chanced a glance at Natalie, who wore an expression like she was witnessing a slow-moving car crash.
“That bad?” he asked.
“Well…I think it’s a great start,” she said encouragingly. It was funny—he was used to the sassy Natalie, but this side of her was new to him. And he liked it. “Maybe instead of stating facts, trying speaking from the heart a bit more.”
He gave her a knowing look. “You’ve met me, right? What the hell am I supposed to say about this shit?”
She laughed. “I do know you. And I think you’re a softy, remember?”
He waved his hand again, showing her his calloused palm but she just psshed at him.
“Tap into something you can relate to,” she suggested. “You don’t have to be sappy and talk about things you don’t want to, or about the act of marriage or anything. But try to pair what you can to the situation. How you feel and how it ties to the occasion.”
He nodded. That was good advice. It was enough to stop his pacing. He stared at her fresh face and kind eyes and said the first thing that came to mind.
“I’m a search and rescue medic, so I know all about risk. No one makes the active choice to risk anything. Why would you want to give up something you enjoy? But when the right something—someone—comes along, enjoyable isn’t worth the risk of losing the amazing. So I don’t think love is about risk. It’s choosing to trade in basic for incredible. It’s about upgrading. Even if it means losing what you once thought was worth it. That is, if you’re not too scared to take the leap.”
East had no idea if what he’d just said was gibberish, or even made sense, but he watched Natalie’s delicate throat as she swallowed hard. She took a deep breath, then another.
“That’s great,” she said, and had to clear her throat. “Of course, then mention Matt and Bridget.”
“Right,” East agreed and glanced at the floor. “Mention them, then salute.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I think you’ve got it.”
Her sweet smile was interrupted by the ding of her cell phone. She reached for it and read something on the screen, then she looked up at East.
“I, uh, I have to get going.”
He glanced at the clock and realized she had plans still. “Yeah, your date is soon.”
She glanced at her phone. “Yeah.”
“Well.” He clapped his hands together and smiled, but it felt like his chest just had a metric ton of gravel dumped on it. “Thanks for your help.”
She got off his bed, and the moment her feet hit the floor, he knew, he was losing something—someone—he couldn’t hang on to.
“Anytime,” she said.
Chapter Twelve
Family dinner was nothing new. Ever since they’d all moved out, Natalie’s mother still insisted that once a month all the kids have dinner at the St. Clair home. Matt had been in Connecticut the last several months, but she and Easton always made it. It felt like old times with her and East and her mom around the family table.
Well, like old times except that when she took her seat across from East, she was now looking at someone she’d seen naked.
Yeah…that was different.
Not bad. Not good. Well, it was good in some ways. Seeing East naked was better than good. But it was not good t
hat she kept thinking of that, causing her heart to race and her palms to sweat while he was sitting right there and her family was around.
She adjusted in her seat and chanced a glance at him.
He simply passed along the mashed potatoes, and winked at her. She felt heat flush her cheeks. It was more than just having seen him naked. She’d really seen him, at least in flashes, the real East he kept hidden from everyone else. Last night when he’d had her in his bed, she’d felt something shift. But worse, when she went to leave, and he’d told her he needed help—everything in her body stopped and responded to him.
She couldn’t remember feeling like this with anyone else before. It was as though her body and her emotions were conspiring against her with the simplest equation: East needs help equals Natalie gives it. That speech he’d delivered, the way it had seemed so heartfelt, it had hit her like gravity had doubled.
She took a bite of food and looked at East again, wondering how he seemed so calm all the time. Wondering what that flash of pain behind his eyes was—
“So, have you found a date yet?” her mother said, snapping her back to reality.
“Jesus, Mom, I just sat down,” Natalie said quickly.
“Watch your mouth, young lady,” her mother said. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment that East was witnessing this. Not that it was anything new. But now that she’d been with him, she hated the idea of coming off like a kid again, of being scolded for not being the perfect St. Clair daughter. He’d really seen her in the past few days, the real Natalie, and she didn’t want them to lapse back into their old roles, where she was nothing more to him than Matt’s little sister.
“I wasn’t kidding about Harrison, Natalie. I’ll call him,” her mother threatened. And with the wedding approaching, she was running out of time.
“I know you will, Mother,” she said. She stabbed idly at the pork chop on her plate.
“But I ran into Michelle at her shop yesterday. I was getting shoes for the wedding,” Lemon-Anne said, her face beaming with pride. All Natalie could feel was embarrassment that she was clearly a disappointment to her mother because she wasn’t like her brother. Wasn’t madly in love with the perfect person and getting married. Wasn’t a gorgeous, elegant debutante who ran a ladies’ charity or something. Natalie hoped briefly that the wedding talk would distract her mother from scolding her, but of course, that would have been too good to be true. Lemon-Anne’s eyes went back to Natalie. “Michelle said that you had a date. Did it go well?”
