by Harper Sloan
“God, baby.” I exhale through the pain her words inflict on me.
“Then after I pushed you away, you just fell to the ground like nothing had happened. I can’t tell you what you did after that because I was too busy running away as fast as I could. Which, awkwardly for me, just happened to put me on a collision course with my own father. It was the worst moment of my life, Nate.”
Her breathing continues to come in choppy gasps as I hold her tightly to me with my arms wrapped around her back. I never would have believed that damn dream was just a drunken memory. Had I known, fuck, I would never have let this much time go—the hurt fester—without making it right. Now, I’m not even sure how to fix this.
“I understand now,” she says with a hitch to her breath. “It doesn’t take away all of the pain it caused, but it goes a long way in dulling it.”
“I’m so sorry,” I lament. “It sounds like a weak thing to say, I know that, but fuck, I am … so sorry.”
She pushes off my chest and lifts herself until her face is level with mine. You would never know she had even shed one tear. Most chicks I know turn a hundred different shades of swollen red when they’re crying but not Ember. Her face is just slightly flushed, but other than her wet eyelashes, you would never know.
“I’m terrified, Nate, honestly terrified. If what you say is true and looking back on painful memories only makes that hurt grow, then I need to get over it. But I don’t know how. In my head, I’m convinced that you’re just going to drop me if I blink too long. My heart, though, is telling me to wrap myself around you and never let go. I feel like I’m being torn in two different directions.”
She is silently begging me with an expression mixed with fear and hope to provide her with all the answers, but I know nothing I can say will give her what she needs.
This is something I need to show her.
Prove to her.
Fight for her.
I frame her face in my hands, feeling her pulse beat wildly at the base of her neck as I lean forward and press my lips against hers. I don’t deepen the kiss, but when I take a deep breath through my nose and my senses are full of everything that is her, this kiss feels more intimate than anything I had ever felt before.
“Keep following your heart, Ember. Follow it—me—and let me worry about guiding the way. Allow me to prove to you that I’m worthy of you giving me your love back. How does that sound?”
I’M A BUNDLE OF NERVES.
I called Nate about an hour ago and told him I would be there around eight and he told me just to pull up out back and he would meet me there.
When I drove up, passing the entrance, I was shocked to see so many people lined up outside. There were so many people; it looked like they were pouring out of the club. I never thought that Tuesday would be a popular club night, but apparently, it is.
When I was here for my birthday and first witnessed what they called the holding room, I thought it was a brilliant idea to have a whole building designated for the people waiting to get into the actual club. But seeing all the people lined up outside, I feel an instant sense of pride that Nate’s club is so popular that they can’t even make room for everyone, and that’s just in its second week of operation.
Pulling my car beside Nate’s huge truck, I turn the key and take a huge gulp of air in an attempt to calm the butterflies swirling around my stomach like a tornado. Stepping out, I walk to the trunk and pull out my picnic basket. Before I can shut the trunk, though, the basket is being taken from my hands and Nate’s scent hits my nose.
Whatever cologne he uses is so distinctively him that I’ve caught myself over the years following the trail when I would catch a whiff of it in random places. If I knew the name, I’m pretty sure I would buy a bottle just to spray on my sheets.
With that thought, coupled with those damn butterflies, my mouth opens and I speak without turning. “What cologne do you wear?”
His low chuckle rumbles against my back as he kisses me on my temple before leaning in and breathing right next to my ear. His scent becomes stronger instantly.
“Acqua Di Gio,” he hums against my ear, the reverberations washing over me, and I shiver instantly.
“Who makes that?” I ask breathlessly.
“Giorgio Armani.”
I’m definitely buying a bottle and spraying every inch of my house.
“Give me some time, baby, and I’ll transfer it on every inch myself. Just need you to help.”
“Shit,” I hiss when I realize I spoke that out loud.
His free hand comes up and turns me gently before pulling me to his side. “Hey.” He laughs.
Embarrassment forgotten, I look up into his handsome face and echo his greeting in a whisper. He shakes his head, his hair moving around his angular face, making my palms itch to run my fingers through the silky strands. I’m so used to seeing him with it up in one of those sexy man buns that the rare sight of it falling free makes my mouth water and my core clench.
Damn, he is so sexy.
His lips twitch, and I know I did it again.
“Come on. I’ve been starving for you, and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since I left your house.”
He grabs my hand, the other holding the basket full of our dinner, and pulls me toward the door that I just now notice the bartender who served me shots on my birthday is holding open.
“Dent, meet my girl, Ember. Ember, my friend, Denton.”
I go to reach out my hand to take the one Denton is offering in greeting, but jerk it back when I feel Nate growl low and deep. Denton’s head goes back, and he booms out a thundering laugh.
“Did you just growl like a dog?” I ask Nate in shock and turn to look up at his face.
He keeps his narrowed eyes on a still laughing Denton, not answering me.
“That’s a little much, don’t you think?” I continue.
Nate looks down at me like I’m the crazy one for even asking him that, and I ignore him by returning what I hope is a hard look of my own. He shrugs and pulls me through the door and into a dark hallway.
“It’s nice to formally meet you, Denton!” I call over my shoulder while still being pulled behind Nate. I hear another animalistic sound from him and just roll my eyes.
He’s crazy.
When we reach the end of the hallway, I can see that the club is just as packed as it was the last time I was here. I continue looking around while keeping up with Nate’s huge steps as he leads me to the stairs that I know will lead me to his office, only letting go of my hand long enough to wave me ahead of him.
I look down at my outfit, a short summer dress that I picked after an hour of throwing almost everything out of my closet, and wonder if I miscalculated when settling on this one. I hadn’t thought about the long climb up. He probably wants me ahead of him so I don’t flash anyone.
When I look back up at him and see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, I know that I was wrong. He wants me ahead of him so that he can catch a flash of what is under my skirt.
Well, he’s in for a shock. I wink and laugh when I see him frown in confusion before moving around him and starting my climb. The hissed breath that I hear over the music at my back gives me a rush of power and confidence. I put a little extra swirl in my hips with each step, and by the time I’m halfway up, my lips are curled in a smile so wonky and big that it hurts my cheeks.
Just when his warm palm hits the inside of legs, I reach out and push the handle on his office, about to come out of my skin when the tip of his thumb touches my bare sex.
“Oh my God,” I gasp and stop just inside the door of his office.
He hits my back, and I hear the contents of my picnic basket shift. “What the hell?” he explodes behind me when he finally sees what stopped me in the first place.
Oh, how I wish it were just because of his hand.
The skirt of my dress had ridden up from the jerk of his arm when I stopped abruptly, and I hastily pull it down. Lord knows, one half-
naked woman in his office is enough.
“Oops,” the sickly high voice says from his couch and she stands slowly. Her naked breasts sway as she bends to pick up the black corset top.
I look back at Nate and see him just barely keeping a leash on his anger. I know whatever we just walked in on isn’t something welcomed by him, even if I wasn’t here. He moves into the room and tenderly—despite his very raw anger—moves me out of the way so he can shut the door and silence the music that is pounding up from the club below.
“You want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing in my office, Julie? Without your top on, no less.”
He walks over to his desk, unfortunately placing him closer to her, and puts the basket down with utmost care. His hand runs across the top in an almost reverent caress, and I can’t even describe what seeing him do that does to me.
Even though she’s tainted our moment … whatever this is, he is still almost disbelieving that I’m here, with him. Well, he’s not the only one, and I’m not letting this woman ruin a moment I’ve only dreamed possible.
She steps closer to him, her top still not on, and reaches out to touch him.
I don’t even think. I move to stand in front of him, my wedges almost tripping me up in my haste to get between them, and I cross my arms over my chest with a growl low in my throat.
I feel Nate bend, his mouth going to my ear as one strong hand curls around my hips and pulls me flush to his body. “Did you just growl like a dog?” he mockingly breathes so low I only hear him before nipping the sensitive flesh behind my ear.
“Back up now,” I fume when she has the nerve to look at me as if I’m the one intruding.
“Who the hell are you?” the woman—Julie—snaps at me.
“His.”
“Mine.”
We both speak at the same time, and her eyes dart back and forth between the two of us before narrowing and she addresses Nate. “That’s not what you told me last night.” One very thin blond brow attempts to go up, but judging by the way it just kind of twitches, she’s got a little too much Botox going on. Her red lips tip up and what could have been a smothery look just makes her look like a devil.
A she-devil.
“Nice try, but you’re going to have to work a little harder if you’re going to try that kind of garbage with me because he never left my side last night.”
I see my words hit her when some of that malevolent spitefulness dims. She doesn’t know I’m lying, but I know she is.
“That was a nice try, babe,” I tell her before reaching over and picking one of her blond hairs off her breast, my finger grazing her hard nipple and I curl my lip up in disgust. “Honey,” I call over my shoulder, not giving her the satisfaction of looking away first.
“Hmm?”
“Do you think bleach would ruin your couch?” I ask, my brow arching high.
His laughter bellows from his chest, the richness fills the room instantly. The hand still holding my hip flexes and he pulls me closer, the other arm going around my chest to hold me to his body. Whether he’s doing that to keep me closer or to keep me from her, I don’t really care. The second every hard inch of him presses against me from top to toe, the woman before us might as well have been invisible.
He is finally able to calm down his hilarity to just a few bursts of air that I feel tickle the top of my head a few moments later. The woman is still topless and still fuming in front of us.
“You’re fired. If I see you back inside or near Dirty, I’ll make sure you’re in the back of a cop car in seconds, got me?” His deadly calm tone causes a shiver of arousal to stream down my spine. He’s doing it to intimidate her, show her he’s serious and in control, I’m sure … but hearing him take a tone full of domination flips a switch inside me that makes me shift uncomfortably when I feel the wetness between my legs.
“What?!” she screeches and throws her hands in the air. “A few weeks ago, you were on the bar dancing for me, and now, you’re throwing me out when we both know this is what you want.”
Instead of allowing her words to cut me, I reach back and push my hand between our bodies until my palm rests against the bulge in his pants. He’s not hard, thankfully, but he’s obviously a sizable man if the heavy weight of his cock beneath my palm is anything to go by. He hisses out a breath when I squeeze my hand. I want him to know that her words aren’t affecting me in the least and the only way I can think of is to remind him that I meant what I said yesterday. I still want him even with this clusterfuck in front of us. The old Ember, the one that let her past rule her, would have run the second I stepped into his office, but not the new me. I intend to live up to the nickname he gave me a long time ago.
His length hardens with my touch, but he just flexes the hold his hands have on me and lets me continue to play.
“You know damn well that I was giving a demonstration that day. Not for one goddamn second was I dancing for you. I don’t know what sick fantasy you’ve built up in your head, but I promise you that it will never come to fruition. Get the fuck out of my club.”
She hesitates.
“Now!” he roars, and she hastily covers herself with her top before running toward the door and down the stairs.
I feel him breathing rapidly against my back, my hand still holding his now very hard cock. I give him a squeeze, and it’s almost as if someone stuck him with a cattle prod. He jerks back, his hands going to my shoulders, and he spins me around roughly. I would have fallen, but the second I was facing him, he bent, grabbed me at the back of both thighs, and had me up in his arms before I could blink. His mouth crashes against mine roughly before turning us. I feel my back press against the cold, hard surface of his windows before all rational thought flies out the window.
“I won’t take you here,” he rumbles against my mouth before turning his head and deepening the kiss. I try to roll my hips, desperate to ease the ache between my legs, but he pushes me harder against the glass. “No.” The unwavering authority in his voice stops me instantly.
He steps back, gradually helping me to my feet until he is sure that I have steady footing. Stepping back and running his hand through his hair, I lick my lips when his brown hair falls back in a shiny curtain against his face. At the moan I must have let slip, he jerks and turns to face me.
“No, Ember. We’re going to set the table,” he commands, pointing at the table I hadn’t noticed on the other side of the room. One single rose sits in the center of the black surface. “You’re going to go over there and get everything set up before sitting down like a good girl. You aren’t ready for the kind of time-out I have planned for you, but know that if you disobey me, I’m going to start adding that shit up. I’m going to the bathroom to take care of this problem you’ve created, and you’re going to set the table, sit down, and wait for me so I can give you a proper first date you will remember for the rest of our lives.”
The shock of his words is still slamming into my overheated body when I hear his door slam. The kind of time-out he has planned for me? Something tells me it will be a whole hell of a lot more fun than the kind of time-out that always ends with his sister having her nose shoved in a corner.
He wants a first date to remember for the rest of our lives? Something tells me that isn’t going to be a problem at all.
I HAVE THE ONLY WOMAN my cock has been craving just outside this door, and here I am in my office bathroom fucking my fists roughly so that—hopefully—the bite of pain I’m giving with each thrust of my hips and twist of my wrists will be enough to calm me down.
I had my cock in my hand before the bathroom door had even slammed behind me, and here I am, not even minutes later, with my balls tightening and the tight coils of pleasure starting to unravel.
I move over to the sink, continuing to work myself with both fists, as I line myself up to empty my come into the basin. I feel my balls pull up and the blinding pleasure that shoots up my spine and wraps around my brain makes my vision go black as I roar out wit
h each thick rope of come that shoots from the tip of my cock.
“Fucking goddamn,” I moan deeply, feeling my knees lock. I look down, blinking against the gray still clouding my vision to see that I’m still pulsing heavily. Relaxing the hold my hands have on my cock, I take one hand and slowly stroke my oversensitive skin, watching as the last few spurts hit the basin.
I swipe my thumb over the tip before letting my—thankfully—soft cock drop heavily against my undone jeans. Washing my hands first and ignoring the ridiculous amount of come painting the inside of the basin, I carefully tuck my cock and shirt in then zip my jeans and push my belt through the loops.
If what just happened is anything to go by, it might just kill me when I finally sink into Ember.
Looking in the mirror, I see the wild look in my eyes and I say a silent prayer that I’m able to keep the promise to myself that I won’t take her until I know I’ve proven myself to her.
When I open the door and see her sitting demurely at the set table, I groan and almost stumble when the tip of my cock—still sensitive as hell from my release—brushes against the denim of my jeans.
Ignoring my needs, I walk around the table and stop directly behind her. I smile when I hear her suck in a breath only to let it out in a moan. My girl enjoys my smell. I reach up, pulling my hair back and holding it in my fists, and I bend. The side of my stubbled cheek rubs against the smoothness of hers on my descent. She shivers, and when I reach her tan, bare shoulder, I turn my head slightly before opening my mouth and sinking my teeth into the tender flesh where her neck meets her shoulder, sucking lightly. She whimpers and shifts her body the best she can since my teeth are still pressing against her skin.
