by Lexi Ryan
One of his hands slides around to lie flat against my belly. The other takes a tour of my body, dipping down over the tops of my thighs, sliding up over my hips and belly, his fingertips brushing the underside of my breasts. I can’t breathe. Breathing feels inconsequential when every cell in my body is homed in on the sensations his touch sends through me.
Then his hand is on my neck and my chin, my jaw, turning my head so I’m looking at him again. His lips are so close. Rising onto my toes, I part my lips. An invitation.
But instead of bringing his mouth to mine, he drops his hands and steps away from me. “Can I get you a drink?”
“A drink?” I don’t want a drink. I want him. His mouth against mine. His body. That sexy voice, low and gravelly, promising pleasure in my ear.
I shake my head and push past him, through the crowd, and out the side exit into the night.
My ears seem to sigh at the silence, and my heated skin practically steams in the cool air.
Several smokers mingle a few feet from me. I catch the scent of clove cigarettes and something else. Weed, probably. Long shadows wait for me around the corner, and I slip into them, leaning my head against the building and closing my eyes.
He flirted with me all night, didn’t he? Made his attraction clear? Danced with me so close my body is buzzing, my skin hungry for more of his touch. He made me believe a guy like him could find me sexy.
But maybe it was all just pretend—a guy pretending to be attracted to me to cheer me up.
The thought makes my chest ache, throb like a thumb hit by a hammer. Why couldn’t I have been made more like my sisters? Maggie doesn’t have to worry about her weight and she eats whatever she wants. Krystal works hard to keep her body, but even if I eat the same things she does and follow her to the gym, I barely lose a pound. And Lizzy has been thin her whole life—my twin completely unaffected by my demons.
“Hanna.”
My eyes fly open to find Nate standing in front of me, hands in his pockets. His eyes are unreadable, cloaked under the shadow of the ball cap. I’m so drawn to him that, despite the sting of fresh rejection, I want to step into his arms, rub up against him like a cat.
But I’m not the kind of girl who can rub up against guys and get them to respond. I just proved that, didn’t I? How did I forget?
“Hanna, talk to me.”
My heart pounds in my chest, and I want to scream. “I’m sorry. I thought…” I shake my head. “I misunderstood what was between us. Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.”
“Shit.” He steps forward, his body a breath from mine. “I’ve wanted to get my hands on you since I saw you walk into the bar at the hotel.” Taking my hands, he hooks my arms behind his neck. The gesture works with his words to fill me with one last ounce of courage.
My stomach riots with nerves, but I lift onto my toes to get my mouth to his ear. “Then why won’t you kiss me?” I hardly recognize myself in the boldness. It’s him. He does this to me. His eyes and touch, his words, making me so sure of his attraction to me when it’s ridiculous for me to be sure of any such thing.
Before he responds, his hands settle at my hips and tighten. He sweeps up my sides and back down. When he speaks, his words come out with something resembling a growl. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all night long. I’ve hardly thought about anything else since we started dancing. But I’m not just thinking about kissing you, Hanna. If I thought we would stop with kissing, I would have done it hours ago.”
I’m so distracted by the heat of his hands through my dress. I don’t understand. “Then why not?”
“Because I want to do more than kiss you. I want to touch you. Explore you.” He dips his head, and his hot breath glides against my neck, his lips so close but not touching. “But I promised Asher I wouldn’t.”
“Asher? He thinks Max and I are still together. He—”
“He would have given me the same warning if he’d known the truth. You’re heartbroken and on the rebound.”
“I—” Can’t deny that.
“I shouldn’t do any of things I want to do to you.” His voice drops lower, and he skims his thumb over my bottom lip. “I shouldn’t taste these lips.” He follows the words by brushing his mouth over mine.
A shiver of pleasure rushes through me as he repeats the motion. My lips part under his, and he draws my bottom lip between his teeth and sucks gently. Then his mouth is slanting over mine and our tongues meet in a hungry, desperate kiss. For a moment, my brain holds Nate’s kiss up against Max’s, the hungry to the gentle, the rough to the soft. But then that slips away and I’m not thinking at all, just kissing him back and clawing at his shirt, wanting him closer and closer. I wasn’t wrong. This man wants me. And I want him so badly that the want is a live, pulsing thing, consuming me until I am nothing but desire.
When he breaks the kiss, his eyes skim over my face as if memorizing it. “I shouldn’t put my hand under that skirt.” And as he says the words, his hand connects with the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh.
I shift, instinctively parting my thighs for his touch. A moan slips from my lips, and I lean my forehead against his chest and close my eyes. “Why not?”
“Because you’re sweet, Hanna.” His hand moves slowly, torturously on my thigh. “Too sweet for me to touch right here.” He finds my panties with his fingertips and, with whisper-soft pressure, sweeps over my center. His breath is hot and heavy against my ear. “Too sweet for me to finger fuck just because I want to feel how wet you are. Too sweet for me to make you cry in pleasure where anyone could hear. To make you come just because I want to feel you fall apart in my arms.”
There’s a tug on my panties. Then the lace is magically gone and his hand is against me, the heat of his palm then his fingers finding my clit. We both gasp at the touch. I am so swollen, slick, and I want nothing more than for him to do the very things he just described.
It’s crazy. I shouldn’t. Not here. Maybe not at all. But my body has all but shut off the function of my brain, and the only thing that seems to matter is getting his fingers inside me.
He toys with my clit, rubbing it between two fingers, and I curl my fingers into his arms. His triceps flex under my touch, and for a blip, my brain slingshots back to Max, his thick arms, his muscled body. Max touching me, Max kissing me.
Max breaking my heart.
“Please,” I say, rocking my hips toward him. “I need this.” I need to turn off my mind. To forget.
Nate draws back and studies me. I see the tension in his jaw and shoulders. He’s holding back.
“Please, Nate.”
AT THE sound of my name on her lips, what little control I have left snaps. I have to feel her. I step closer, one leg outside hers, my body angled to protect her from the curious eyes of anyone coming around the corner. I run my fingers over her wet sex one more time before I slide a single finger inside her.
“Jesus,” I hiss against her ear. “You’re so damn tight.”
My cock aches against my fly at the feel of my finger sheathed in her. She’s hot and wet, and she feels so good I’m nearly blind to anything but how soon I can be inside her. I want to hail the nearest cab and take her back to my hotel, let her crawl onto my lap and grind against me on the ride. Fuck, I want to unbutton my jeans and take her against this building, squeeze that amazing ass, and drive fast and hard inside her. Make her cry out as I make her come with my cock instead of my hand.
I take a deep breath, searching for sanity. Her scent nearly undoes any attempt to calm myself down. Her lips part and her lids go heavy. Pleasure washes over her face in waves. I move slowly, sliding my finger out as I circle her clit with my thumb, then back in, curling it just enough so she shudders in my arms.
“I love how wet you are,” I growl against her ear. Words turn her on, and I’m not about to fail to take advantage of that. “I love how your pussy squeezes my finger, how you respond to my touch.” I draw out again, and this time, I add a second finger.
&
nbsp; At the added pressure, she opens her mouth against my neck and bites down softly. She works at my neck as I fuck her with my fingers, her mouth licking and nipping and sucking in ways that are giving my dick all kinds of ideas.
It’s with the thought of that mouth on my cock that I use my thumb to apply pressure to her clit and move my fingers inside her. “Every second you danced in my arms, I was another second closer to losing this battle with myself.”
“Please,” she whimpers.
“You’re too sweet for a mess like me, but every second I stand here smelling your perfume, touching your perfect body, my control slips another notch. Nothing will stop me from fucking you until you’re coming and crying my name.”
She buries her face in my neck and shudders again, rocks her hips into my hand as her body pulses around me. Then, just as she goes limp in my arms, the sky opens and rain pours down on us.
Hanna looks up into the downpour in wonder, and I slowly remove my hand from between her legs and smooth her skirt down to cover her.
She blinks at me through the rain, her wet cheeks flushed. Her tongue darts out over her swollen lips. “I don’t know if I should be embarrassed or…grateful.”
I chuckle and take her hand, kissing the soft skin over her knuckles. “Come with me?” My voice hitches at the end, and my suggestion becomes more of a question. There’s something about Hanna that makes me feel vulnerable.
She grins. “Let’s go.”
By the time we get a cab, we’re drenched, but she doesn’t complain about her hair or makeup like most girls would. Instead, when we slide into the back, she keeps biting back a smile. So damn sweet.
Taking my hand, she intertwines our fingers. My plans for using the cab ride for another ten minutes of foreplay melt away. For now, I settle for breathing in her scent.
WE ENTER the hotel’s glitzy lobby and make our way to the elevator hand in hand, leaving a path of damp footprints on the marble tiles.
When the elevator dings and the doors slide closed, Nate presses the P button and slides his room key in the slot. A shiver shudders through me. I was okay outside, but in the air conditioning, my skin is breaking out in goose bumps.
He rubs his knuckles over my bare shoulders. “We’ll get you out of these wet clothes and warmed up.” He cups my face in both his hands before kissing me.
My heart pounds and I can feel it in my ears. I’m really going to do this. I’m going to lose my virginity to a guy I just met.
He pulls back, concern twisting at his beautiful face. “Are you okay?”
I nod, but before I can figure out what to say, the doors slide open to a lush suite. I step inside, afraid I’ll chicken out if I don’t move quickly.
He’s behind me, settling his hand possessively at my waist. “Do you like it?”
“It’s really nice.”
The elevator chimes, and I spin around and watch the doors slide closed again.
“Hanna.” He tilts my chin so I’m looking at him. “Your room is an elevator ride away. We can say goodnight any time you want.”
“I…” Why can’t I feel like I did outside the club? Bold. Uninhibited. Ready to throw off the chains of my virginity. Instead, I’m a live wire of nerves and hyperaware of everything. The burbling of the saltwater fish tank set into the wall, the soft hum of the air conditioner, the way Nate’s eyes are searching mine.
What will he think if I back out now? What will I think?
What if I’m wrong about me and Max and we end up together again? Will I tell him about tonight? Will he resent me for it? Or will I keep it to myself and let it be the secret that sits between us our whole lives, the something keeping us from truly connecting like we once did?
Pushing my thoughts aside, I rise onto my toes to press my mouth to Nate’s. He doesn’t take long to respond, and the feel of his mouth over mine, his tongue sweeping inside, helps to quiet the chaos of my mind.
“Shower?” he murmurs against my mouth.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“With me?”
Another shiver rushes through me, as much from nervous anticipation as from cold. “If that’s okay with you.”
His eyes flash. “More than okay.”
Taking my hand, he leads me farther into the suite, past the living room area and into a giant bedroom. The king-sized bed is made with fresh white linens and seems as enormous and frightening as what I’m about to do.
Any nerves I feel at the sight of the bed fall away when Nate continues on, flipping the lights in the bathroom and revealing an oversized en suite with a large glassed-in shower and Jacuzzi tub.
I watch in awkward silence as he turns on three different showerheads. What am I supposed to do with myself? Am I supposed to undress or wait or…?
Worry fizzles, because before I can decide what to do, he’s back and kissing me again, pressing me against the long granite countertop. He pushes one dress strap off my shoulder and tugs on the fabric until one lace-covered breast is exposed.
He groans softly. “Your bra matches your panties.”
“What happened to those?”
With a boyish grin, he produces them from the pocket of his jeans. I take them and hold them up. They’re ruined. Torn at both hips. And I’m not the slightest bit upset about it.
I prop my hands on my hips in a pretend pout. “Now what am I going to put on after our shower?”
“If I have my way? Not a damn thing.”
Dropping his head, he puts his mouth to my breast and sucks me through the lace. The sensation is too much—the wet heat of his tongue, the rough texture of the lace, the painful pleasure of his rough mouth. I cry out, and the sound echoes against the walls.
Before I realize what he’s doing with his hands, my dress falls away, puddling at my ankles and leaving me standing there in nothing but my bra and my strappy heels. He slowly drags his mouth from my breast, and my nipple puckers harder in the cool air as Nate steps back to take me in.
This is the part I hate. Men’s assessing eyes on all my imperfections—the stretch marks at my breasts, the extra fat around my stomach, the cellulite on my ass and at the tops of my thighs. There’s nothing sexy about any of these parts of me. And there’s nothing that turns me off more than the disappointment in men’s eyes when they get me naked. It wasn’t like that with Max. But then again, I’ve never let him see me naked—not entirely. And by the time he saw me semi-nude, he was already in love with me.
Or you thought he was.
I focus on Nate and will myself to stop thinking about Max. I won’t let my broken heart ruin this night. This isn’t about love or men who make you feel whole. This is about sex and pleasure and—
Nate lifts his eyes back to mine, and what I see there brings my overactive brain to a screeching halt. Not disappointment. No. The heat in his eyes is undeniable. And it’s for me.
“You couldn’t be more perfect, Hanna.”
I look down, confused. Has someone else’s body magically replaced mine, because…? It’s true that I’ve toned up a bit in these last months while working out with Max, lost maybe ten pounds, but I still don’t have anything near the bodies my sisters have. I’m still the size-sixteen embarrassment I’ve been since adolescence.
Nate tilts my chin up with his thumb. He cocks his head as he studies me. “You really don’t know, do you? Our conversation earlier wasn’t just an act. You have no idea how gorgeous you are.”
I want to shrug it off, but he’s looking at me so intently, I know he expects an answer. “I’ve never been with a guy who was…into big girls.”
He grunts. “Is that what you think this is? Some sort of fetish?”
I shrug and drop my gaze to his throat.
“Hanna, I’m not ‘into big girls,’ as you put it. I like women. Beautiful women. Women who have curves.” He steps forward and twists the front clasp on my bra until it releases. The straps slide off my shoulders, and the bra falls to the floor. “I like breasts,” he murmurs, cupping mine in h
is hands and brushing his thumbs over my nipples.
I shudder at his touch, that knot of pleasure tightening between my legs.
He steps closer, and my breasts press against his chest. He slides his hands around my back and down until they’re cupping my butt. “And I’m not ashamed to say, I’m a bit of an ass man.” He squeezes. “Fabulous to look at and something to fill my hands when I’m fucking you from behind.”
My breath catches at the image. Fucking me from behind. No doubt he wouldn’t be talking to me like that if he had any idea how inexperienced I am.
“Nate—”
The sight of him dropping to his knees cuts me off. “And this.” He presses his mouth against the curve of my belly. “I’ve been with women who have flat stomachs and women who are soft here. Beauty comes in different shapes, colors, and sizes. There’s no cookie cutter for sexy.”
At the gentle pressure on the inside of my thighs, I widen my stance instinctively, bracing myself on the counter as the most intimate part of me is exposed to him. I shudder as he takes two fingers and traces some invisible line from just below my pubic bone to my center.
“This,” he murmurs. He lifts his gaze to mine and touches his fingers to his lips for a moment. “How turned on you get when I touch you? When I talk to you? It’s is the sexiest fucking thing in world.”
He kisses each hipbone. Then his mouth is on me, open and hungry, his tongue sweeping over my clit. He slides a finger inside me, and my legs tremble. I don’t think I can stand here while his mouth is down there. My legs will give out.
But then he’s standing and hoisting me onto the cold counter, and before I know what he means to do, he’s dropping to his knees again.
“I’ve been fantasizing about getting you naked down to your shoes since I first spotted you tonight. Your legs in those heels…” He strokes the insides of my thighs, and my back arches instinctively, my hips rising off the counter and toward the hot breath of his mouth. His eyes flick up to meet mine for two heartbeats, and then he places my ankles over his shoulders.
