“Funny, right?”
“Funny,” Nate echoed as he flipped through the pages of the book. “Ironic.”
I had to think quickly! He was either simply thumbing through the novel, or he was one hell of a fast reader because his thumb was holding some pages in the middle of the book open.
“Secrets!” I blurted, thinking a distraction might be my best option. “I have a doozy that I haven’t told anyone, not even my mom or Livie.”
That got his attention. “Not even Livie?”
I shook my head. “Nope.” I was going to have to tell him sometime. Oh man! What was wrong with me!? “Would you like another beer?”
“No.” He set the book down upside down on the table to hold his place. “What is it? You look worried. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine. I was freaking out! It was going to come out sooner or later, but this was a lot sooner than the later I had been hoping for! Nate was going to think I was a freak!
I turned and snatched up my bag and bolted toward the door.
“Wait a minute, where are you going now?”
“Across to the lodge before the shop closes. This discussion is going to require something stronger than beer.”
“I can go.” Great, now he looked concerned.
I threw my hand up for him to stop. “I got this!” Then I had another idea. “I need a few minutes to … figure it all out.” I said, walking back toward him and attempting to make my strides appear nonchalant. “You know, this isn’t one of her best novels.” I snatched the Natalia Morris book from the table. “You should pick out a good movie for us for when I get back.” I tossed him the remote control to the flat screen TV and dropped the book on the little end table across the room.
That should work, I thought cleverly. I rushed out the door, shutting it too hard behind me, and ran over to the lodge.
Clear your head, clear your head. I was actually trying to come up with ways around this subject. I wasn’t ready to deal with it yet because, honestly, even though Nate and I were talking about forever, we were still only scant days into our new relationship.
“Miss, we’re about to close,” the store clerk called out to me.
“Right, of course.” I was the only customer left in the store, and I probably looked insane wandering the little aisles. I hoped I hadn’t been talking to myself. “Liquor?”
He pointed toward the back.
“Thanks.” I hurried over, picked up a bottle of Smirnoff’s caramel vodka and found a container of cocoa mix, paid and then slowly walked back to the cabin.
If I just storm in there and dominate the situation maybe I can prolong the inevitable by way of distraction.
I burst through the door. “Hey, baby! I got some vodka and cocoa …” Shit! He wasn’t channel surfing. Instead he’d retrieved the book! I rushed to the kitchen, trying not to look at him. “Are you up for some?”
He followed me and leaned against the counter, a serious look of confusion on his face. He was holding the book. “How is this us?”
Fuck the cocoa. I opened the vodka and swigged straight from the bottle.
Nate began to pace. “Are you friends with this author?”
I squeezed my eyes closed, too nervous to answer.
“‘Neil sprawled back against his brown leather couch,’” Nate read then interjected, “I have a brown leather couch.” He continued reading, “‘I had never wanted him as badly as I did right at this moment. His black shorts clung low on his hips giving me the finest view of his abs.’ I wear black shorts. ‘Neil arched his back deliciously as he rested his good arm behind his head, each muscle rolling like waves. He was so brave and rough, having stepped into the middle of the mugging to protect that old man from his two assailants. He had stopped them but had received a broken shoulder from a baseball bat in the process.’ Hmm, that broken shoulder sounds familiar. ‘Now his arm was in a cast and sling …’ Let’s skip a little, shall we? ‘Lia had always been in love with Neil and thought for sure playing Florence Nightingale for him would make him notice her once and for all. After the third day of caring for him she couldn’t take it anymore. As he stretched, back arching just enough so she could see the outline of his shaft under the fabric of those shorts, she gathered all her courage and climbed on top of him, straddling him. She held herself up, but she knew if she lowered her hips just an inch she would feel the delicious hardness of his bulge. ‘No more games, Neil,’ Lia purred. ‘I know you want me as much as I want you.’”
My heart was beating spastically and my adrenaline was racing as Nate read and moved closer toward me in the kitchen alcove.
“The time we were at Wild’s is described in here too, including the removing of your coat and the seating—as you may recall, I was reminded to pull out your chair by my good friend—that’s in here, as is the bar fight. Everything’s there, right down to that hot little number you wore—only there is an entirely different ending to the night.” He grinned at the thought then quickly got completely serious again. “Other scenes from our lives are in there too, like that time I was alone in the barn stacking hay and you brought me the homemade gourmet lunch and stayed and talked with me while I ate. Only in the novel’s version, the characters um … took a roll in the hay.”
“Crazy coincidence.” Then as a distraction, I blurted, “I quit school!”
“Natalia Morris …” he formulated, as if he hadn’t heard me. “Nathaniel Morrisey.”
Oh God, I’m an idiot. I should never have chosen his name!
He was closing in. “You’re Natalia Morris. How is that even possible?”
Another shot went down my hatch.
“Jules, these are hard-core sexual fantasies!” His voice cracked. “About us. About me!”
“Can we stop talking about this now?” I pleaded.
“Hell no!!!”
He was advancing on me fast. I thrust the bottle out to my full arm length between us. “Drink?”
“No, I don’t want a drink! I want to know how this is us.” He took the bottle from my hand and set it on the counter.
I covered my face with my hands. How could I even face him? “Oh, God!!!” I couldn’t handle this!
“Look at me, Jules!” he demanded.
“NO!” My cry was muffled behind my hands.
Nate’s hands squeezed my ribs as he lifted me and sat me onto the counter. Next he started trying to pull my hands from my face.
“Talk to me about this!” he insisted.
“Yes, it’s me! She’s me! I’m Natalia Morris!” I admitted into my hands.
He let go and I could sense he took a step back.
Oh fuck, he was going to hate me now!
The silence was unbearable so, like a spaz, I broke it with my make-it-even-worse explanation of how it all happened.
“During my first semester at UND, my Creative Writing professor told me about a call for short erotic romance stories for an anthology a new publishing house was putting together.”
He raised his eyebrows, but I didn’t give him a chance to interject.
I raced on, “I know it’s crazy—a professor advocating me writing erotica, but she was pretty liberal, and I had turned in a story that was bordering on being … um, racy. She told me I had great creative writing skills and I should pen something to submit.” I took in a deep, shuddering breath. “I used variations of our own names for the characters—Lia/Julia and Nathaniel/Neil—and I couldn’t very well submit it under my real name … so … I … used … yours. An altered version of yours anyway.”
He said nothing, and my panic built.
“Say something. Please.” I peeked between my tight fingers.
He gasped a little but nothing came out.
I dropped my hands. “I’m so sorry, Nate! I should have never used your name like that! I never thought it would be accepted. And I never dreamed the anthology would make it onto the New York Times Best Sellers list.” Holy hell, this was the most embarra
ssing admission ever! “When the publishing house wanted to sign me they stipulated that I had to continue using that pen name because it was already well known and established. So, I couldn’t change it.”
“Are you telling me you are a best selling erotic romance writer?” It was obviously sinking in.
“Yeah.”
“But the books … they’re about us, and we’ve never … so how did you write the sex scenes?” He thought then croaked, “You’d need practical experience!”
This was more than humiliating. “Experience isn’t required.”
He was quiet again before he began, “Who have you—”
Oh my God, this just kept getting worse! “Haven’t,” I said simply.
“You’re a virgin?” He said it like he wasn’t sure he believed me.
At the moment I couldn’t decide which was more mortifying, being one or not being one. “Yes, I’m a virgin. A virgin with a highly active imagination.”
I waited for him to say something, anything, but he didn’t.
“And, I mean, I’d read a lot of those types of books, so it’s not like I didn’t have anything to go on.”
More silence.
“You can just take me home,” I groaned miserably.
“Take you home?” he answered, incredulous. “Take. You. Home?” He paced across the small kitchen floor. “The woman I love writes erotic stories about me and you think I’m going to take you home? Are you kidding?! Remember when I said I wanted to do to you all of the things that were written in this book? Holy fuck! Now to find out you’re the one who wrote them … you’re not going anywhere!” He took a step to the side and leaned on the counter. “And, oh my good God, you’re still a virgin? Breathe, Nate, just breathe.”
He looked at me then grabbed the vodka bottle and took a shot directly from it. After he set it back down he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at me.
“I’ve known you almost all your life and thought I knew everything there was to know. And now you go and do something like this and absolutely fucking throw me.”
“You’re confusing me, Nate. Are you happy or mad?”
“Mad? Yeah, madly more in love with you, if that were even possible.”
My tense body flooded with relief as an ecstatic smile spread over my face.
“I need a few minutes to process this,” he said, watching me. “I’m going to go get some air.” He wandered to the door like he wasn’t really sure he could walk straight. “Are you alright?” He turned back to me.
I am way better than alright. I nodded.
He nodded back and went out into the evening.
As soon as he was gone I squealed and hopped off the counter.
Chapter 13
“Sex on Fire”
Kings of Leon
I’d had time to make the cocoa, lace it with plenty of caramel vodka, sit on the overstuffed chair and down an entire cup of it before he came back.
He walked through the door, closed it behind him then made his way straight to me. His eyes were hazy as he dropped to his knees in front of me and buried his head in my lap.
My mouth opened to speak, but no words came. Instead I worked my fingers into his jet black hair and waited.
“I want to touch you now … very inappropriately.”
“Do it then,” I whispered as I gently tugged at his hair.
Slowly, he rubbed his face against my legs, moved up to my belly then over my breasts, pressing into them and grazing them with his open mouth before reaching my shoulders, where he froze as if on pause.
“I’ve been burning for a very long time, Nate. Please don’t put it off anymore.”
He moaned, gripped my hips and pulled me roughly off the edge of the chair before he put one hand at the back of my head and brought my face into his, kissing me hungrily. He traced his other hand up my arm until his palm was flat against my collarbone then trailed it down to caress the curve of my breast.
I pressed my fingers into the muscles of his shoulders, pulling him into me deeper. In a fluid motion he secured me to him and twisted us so he was sitting on the chair and I was on top, on his lap, straddling him.
We kissed each other like we were dying. Nate pulled the loose shirt I was wearing over a tank off of my shoulders, and I quickly reached behind myself to shed it, never breaking the kiss. I felt both his hands urgently run down the sides of my ribcage until he reached the bottom of my tank top and lifted it over my head. He threw it to the floor and gripped me again, smashing my mouth into his as his free hand explored the lace of my pink bra. Before I could ask for more of the sensation, he reached both hands to the soft satin straps and brought them down off my shoulders, exposing my full breasts to him.
My breath became shallow as his hot gaze traveled over my lines and curves. His look heated my blood, making me lower my hips to seek the beautiful friction my body craved from him. As soon as I found it and we collided in those most intimate places, Nate let out a deep guttural sound and crashed his mouth over the tip of my breast.
I threw my head back and moaned, succumbing to the ecstasy that was cracking me apart. Quickly, Nate caught me with his hands behind my back, forcing me closer still as he moved from one breast to the other, wrapping his tongue around my nipples.
Gaining a semblance of control, I had to make sure he felt what I did. I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt until I managed to peel it off and rubbed my hands all over the exposed skin of his shoulders, arms and chest. He was mine, now. Mine to touch.
I put my mouth over his ear and breathed hotly over it, “I want you, Nate.”
Without a word, he stood and hoisted me up with him. He laid ravenous kisses against my neck as he made his way to the bed, grabbed the blanket and threw it onto the floor in front of the warmth of the fireplace.
Nate jostled us both as he tried to straighten the blanket with his foot.
I laughed lightly. “You can put me down and I’ll help.
“I’m not letting you go,” he said. Then, satisfied with the blanket, he dropped to his knees, cradling my head and watching me as if I were maybe a mirage as he laid me down.
I was very aware we both wore nothing but our jeans and boots. Stop thinking, just feel, I reminded myself and tugged at Nate’s button and zipper. I wanted to hold him in my hand. He let me undo his jeans, but when he stood up to pull them down he left on his black briefs. I reached up to grab him through the fabric, but he intercepted and caught my hands in his; bringing them to his mouth, he kissed each finger.
“If you touch me, I’ll explode. Give me a minute.”
“Okay,” I murmured, breathless. “But only a minute.”
He worked the buttons of my jeans and tugged them down my legs.
Now I was left in nothing but a pair of pink silk panties. Nate looked over my body, but instead of the hazy look that had made his eyes heavy with sexual intent, I saw fear pass over his expression.
“Remember, don’t think.”
My tough cowboy swallowed hard and looked away.
“There is nothing to fear, Nate.” I sat up and massaged his arms. “You’re amazing and I love you. Hey, look at me.” I laid my hand over his cheek. “I’m not going to let anything come between us anymore. We belong together. We’ve always belonged together.”
He nodded and met my eyes.
“Let someone protect you for a change.” I got onto my knees, placed my hands on his thighs and leaned into him. “Let me protect you.” I put my face close to his, letting the heat between us fire its sparks and reassure him as I let my breath play along his skin. “Give me your heart, Nate. I’ll cherish it.”
He pressed his eyes closed for a moment at the weight of my promise, and I could sense his surrender.
“Touch me,” I whispered.
He brought me back down to the blanket and moved on top of me. We were both trembling. It wasn’t his first time, but I knew it was the first time he’d done this with such strong feelings involved. I imag
ined his emotions were playing tug of war over a muddy pit where fear and love blurred into a warped reality.
This was my first time, and I was scared, but I was more scared of that pit swallowing Nate and covering him in its murky depths so that I couldn’t find him again.
I reached my hand and laid it over his beating heart. “Together, Nate. We’ll learn how to love together.” After I said it I lifted my hips and felt his growing length against the silk of my panties. “Make love to me.”
He closed his eyes, breathing in through his nose and out through pursed lips. “I don’t think you could understand the cyclone whirling through my mind right now. I have beneath me everything I’ve always wanted, and you want me back. You overwhelm me.” He worked through it and smiled. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back,” he instructed eagerly.
I propped myself up on one elbow to watch him. First he turned on his iPod. “Kings of Leon playlist,” he said as he swooped by the kitchen counter and brought back the bottle of caramel vodka. He poured some into a glass and set it onto the coffee table next to us. Then he picked up his jeans, plunged his hand into his back pocket, pulled out his Zippo and lit the candle that sat next to the glass.
“I’ll never get rid of this lighter, ever,” he mused, laying it next to the candle. “That was pretty clever, Jules, how you got me to kiss you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He stood over me, just staring up and down my totally naked body. If only I could have hit some amazingly sexy pose. Nope.
“Nate, you’re killing me.” I used my arms in a weak attempt to cover myself.
“Oh no you don’t!” Nate went to his knees again. “What do you say we play out page 72?”
Page 72? My book!
I hitched in a breath, but Nate’s finger covered my lips. “Shhh. I wasn’t really asking. This is your fantasy after all. Candlelight, fireplace, vodka. But you may need to rewrite a few things once I’ve put my own spin on it.”
I lay there, mesmerized, as he took a pull from the glass then dipped his finger into it. When it dripped with alcohol, he rubbed it over my lips, gripped my face in one of his large hands and pressed gently into my cheeks with enough pressure to open my mouth for him. He ran his tongue over my bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth.
Finding Us Page 13
