Coming Apart at the Seams

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Coming Apart at the Seams Page 17

by Jenna Sutton


  Climbing back on the bed, she knelt next to him. Her stomach wasn’t even close to flat, but that wasn’t a problem for him. In fact, he liked the fact that she was softer than he was.

  He circled her bellybutton with his forefinger, the action bringing a blush to her cheeks. He reached up to smooth her pink skin, tracing her cheekbone with the tips of his fingers.

  She looked down, her dark eyelashes fanning her cheeks. They were so long they looked fake, but he knew they were real because they had been exactly the same length when she’d been burning up with a fever.

  She was so beautiful, and if he’d been able to form any words, he would have told her so. Instead, he reached up and pulled a sparkly pin from her hair. He wanted to run his fingers through the dark strands.

  She raised her arms to remove the rest of the pins, pushing her breasts into his face, and he couldn’t stop himself from sticking his face in her cleavage and giving it a long lick. He growled when he felt the smooth skin of her breasts, and she laughed, obviously thinking he was playing. She had no idea how close he was to throwing her down, ripping off her panties, and taking what he needed.

  He pulled her down toward him until he could roll her onto her back. He leaned over her, and she smoothed her hand over his hair before dropping it to his face. Turning his cheek into her palm, he savored the feel of her skin against his.

  He was a little worried about how turned on he was. Blood pulsed in his cock like he was only seconds from coming, and he still had his pants on. He’d never felt this kind of overwhelming arousal before, and he was afraid it was because he was with Teagan.

  She took a deep breath, and her lace-covered breasts pressed against his chest, reminding him that he had two pretty presents to unwrap. Reaching between them, he unhooked her bra clasp and pushed the lacy cups away. He moaned under his breath when he saw the creamy mounds.

  Breasts had never been his favorite body part, but Teagan’s were fucking spectacular. They were even bigger than he’d imagined, definitely the largest real breasts he’d ever seen. They were firm and round and tipped with nipples the color of raspberries, and he couldn’t wait to get his mouth on them.

  Dropping his head, he pulled one of her pebbled nipples into his mouth. She tasted so good against his tongue he forgot to be gentle, and he sucked strongly. She gasped, clenching her fingers in his hair, and pulled his head back a little.

  His control was shredded, and he knew he had lost his finesse. It had never been a problem before, but he’d never been this worked up, either. He wanted to make this good for Teagan, but he was so on edge he wasn’t sure he would be able to give her an orgasm before he shot off.

  “Nick, I don’t need any more foreplay. I’ve wanted this for months. Every time you brushed up against me, it was foreplay. Every time you touched my arm or my back or my hand, it was foreplay.” She smiled, her eyes shining brightly. “You need to take off your pants, put on a condom, and get down to business.”

  Her words shocked him so much his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Is she serious?

  She laughed softly, and she was still laughing when she leaned up to kiss him. She twirled her tongue around his before smacking his ass.

  “Take these off,” she directed, tugging on his trousers. “Condoms are in the top drawer of the nightstand.”

  He debated whether to do as she’d asked. He definitely didn’t need any more stimulation, but he wanted to touch her. He wanted to learn what she liked, what made her moan, what made her cry out. He wanted to give her so much pleasure she forgot every other man she’d ever been with before him.

  He wanted her to remember him. And he sure as hell didn’t want her to remember him as her worst lover.

  Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat up. He took his time untying his shoes before removing them and his socks. He used the activity to bring his body and his mind under control.

  He stood and removed his boxer briefs and suit pants, allowing his erection to spring free. Pulling open the top drawer on the nightstand, he removed a box of unopened condoms.

  He stared at the box, wondering if it had been a while since she’d needed condoms or if she went through so many she had extra boxes on hand. He clenched his jaw at the thought of her with another man but pushed it out of his mind.

  He was the one who was here now. He was the one who was going to spend the entire night inside her.

  Me. No one else.

  Opening the box, he removed three condoms and placed them on the nightstand. Teagan laughed softly.

  “Three? Isn’t that a bit optimistic?”

  He shook his head. The way he felt right now, the whole box wouldn’t be enough.

  He crawled over her, kneeling between her legs. He eyed her garter belt and stockings, trying to decide if he wanted to take them off. They were every man’s fantasy—his included—and he opted to leave them on.

  Hooking his fingers in her lacy panties, he pulled them from her body. She was nearly bare except for a thin strip of dark hair running down the middle of her pussy, and he traced it with the tip of his forefinger.

  She widened her legs, and he dipped his finger between the pink folds, groaning when he felt how wet and hot she was. He eased a finger inside her, his vision narrowing when she let out a low moan and rocked against his hand.

  Slipping a second finger inside her, he placed his thumb against her clit and stroked lightly. He circled the hard little nub before pressing on it. As more wetness flowed from her body, he pushed his fingers deeper.

  “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough when I told you I didn’t need any foreplay,” she gasped.

  He ignored her, flicking her clit with his thumbnail. He thrust his fingers inside her again, pressing deep and pumping in and out.

  “I need more than your fingers. I’ve never been able to come this way.”

  Hmm. That sounded like a challenge, one he couldn’t ignore in good conscience.

  Withdrawing his fingers, he squeezed her clit between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed up and down, a little trick he’d read about in Maxim magazine. She moaned, and he did it again, making her jerk against him.

  She was panting, little gusts of breath that let him know he was doing something right. He squeezed her clit harder before pressing his thumb against the bundle of nerves and plunging his fingers deep inside her.

  “Oh!” she cried, stiffening. “Oh, my God.”

  Her pussy clenched on his fingers, the tight ring of muscles vibrating with an intense orgasm. He smiled, immensely pleased he had accomplished something she’d claimed was impossible.

  He pushed deeper inside her, flicking his thumbnail over her clit at the same time. She let out a little squeal, and her pussy pulsed against his fingers again.

  And that might be number two.

  As she whimpered softly, he pulled his fingers from her body to grab a condom. His hands weren’t steady, so it took him a little longer than normal to sheath his cock in latex. When he finally got it on, he quickly settled himself on top of her, hooked her leg over his hip, and thrust deeply inside her.

  He moaned as her hot flesh enclosed him. She was unbelievably tight, almost virginal. She cried out, and he froze.

  Fuck! Did I hurt her?

  He pulled out a little, worried he’d been too rough. He was larger than average, and she had him so revved up, he’d forgotten to be careful with her. He’d forgotten everything but the overwhelming need to be inside her.

  She wrapped her arms and legs around him and palmed his ass. Digging her nails into his cheeks, she pressed him deeper as she raised her hips.

  “Oh, you feel so good,” she breathed. “You’re so big. I can feel you everywhere.”

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to ignore her voice. He was almost senseless with pleasure, and every word out of her mouth pushed him closer and closer
to the edge.

  He pulled out to sink into her again, and she tightened her legs around his hips. He tried to find a rhythm, but he was too far gone to do anything but plunge erratically into her.

  He’d never felt like this before. His body was completely out of his control, driven solely by instinct rather than intellect. He dropped his head to kiss her, pushing his tongue into her mouth as he nudged deeply inside her body.

  She moaned his name against his lips. “I’m coming again,” she gasped.

  Her words sent him over the edge. Cupping her hips in his hands, he thrust hard against her. He climaxed in a blinding rush, the pleasure edging to pain as his cock jerked inside her again and again.

  Shuddering, he collapsed on top of her. He’d never come so hard. His ears rang and his vision was dark and blurry.

  He buried his face in her fragrant hair, breathing heavily as she stroked her hands over his back and sucked his earlobe. He shivered from the heat of her mouth, his cock twinging. He groaned in disbelief. It wasn’t possible for him to want her again. He was barely conscious.

  “That definitely was worth waiting for,” she whispered into his ear.

  Chapter 20

  Teagan’s flight from Boston to San Francisco was on time, and she had to be at the airport in less than an hour. But first she was going to stop by Nick’s condo. She hadn’t seen him or talked to him in more than a month, not since the night of her birthday dinner. But she really needed a shoulder to cry on, and his shoulder was the one she wanted most of all.

  Quinn had called her last night to drop the bomb that their dad had colon cancer, and she was flying home so she could be with her family when they met with his oncologist. Her misguided parents had planned to wait to tell her until after they’d met with the doctor because they hadn’t wanted to disrupt her final weeks of school. But Quinn had shared the bad news, not only because he was a good brother but also because he knew she would have torn him apart if he’d kept it from her.

  The town car glided to a stop in front of a three-story brownstone, and her gaze settled on the black numbers next to the bright red door. She’d never been to Nick’s home, but Quinn had texted the address to her.

  The driver jumped out and ran around to open her door. As she exited the car, she warned him she wasn’t sure how long she would be.

  She reached the top of the stairs and pulled in a deep breath, trying to calm her stomach. Ever since she’d received Quinn’s call, she had fought nausea. Sometimes when she was really stressed, her stomach freaked out, and she was more upset than she’d ever been in her life from the combined worry about her dad and the situation with Nick.

  Their night together had been intense and intimate, and she’d been emotionally raw and physically exhausted the next day. He’d left her condo while she’d been sleeping, and she knew him well enough to understand he was having a hard time dealing with the shift in their relationship. He hadn’t called, and he hadn’t texted, and she hadn’t tried to contact him, either, because she’d convinced herself that he needed time to adjust.

  She’d made it through midterms, and she had tried to enjoy spring break in Bora Bora with Bebe. But she’d checked her phone fifty times a day, hoping she would hear from Nick.

  As the days had gone by with no word from him, she’d wondered if she was fooling herself.

  Maybe he didn’t need time to adjust. Maybe she was just another forgettable lay in a long line of one-night stands. She really didn’t believe he would treat her like that, though.

  She used the brass knocker hanging on the door, and moments later, the door swung open. A tall, gorgeous blonde filled the doorway, and Teagan double-checked the numbers beside the door.

  “I’m sorry. I must have the wrong address. I’m looking for Nick Priest.”

  The young woman tilted her head, her long, honey-colored hair falling over her shoulders. She was dressed casually in black yoga pants, a formfitting red T-shirt, and ballet flats.

  “You have the right address. How do you know Nick?”

  Teagan frowned as the sick feeling in her stomach crawled up her throat. She swallowed, trying to push down the nausea.

  “We’re fr . . . is he here?”

  “I’m Vanessa. And you are?”

  “Teagan O’Brien.”

  Vanessa eyed Teagan, her silvery-gray gaze assessing. She opened the door wider and stood to the side.

  “Come in,” she invited, waving Teagan inside.

  Teagan stepped into the foyer, and Vanessa closed the front door with a sharp click before turning toward her. “Can I take your jacket?”

  She shook her head, pulling the jacket closer to her body. Suddenly, she was freezing, almost as if she had the flu again. She brushed her hand over her forehead, which was beaded with sweat. Her body didn’t seem to know if it was hot or cold.

  Vanessa shrugged and turned to head down the hall. When Teagan hesitated, she stopped, her eyebrows raised.

  “Coming?” she asked.

  Teagan trailed after Vanessa, wondering who the hell she was, why she acted like she belonged in Nick’s condo, and why she was there so early in the morning.

  The blonde led her into a large, high-ceilinged living area. A set of brown leather furniture filled the space, and she gestured to a chair.

  “Have a seat. Nick’s in the shower, but I’ll let him know you’re here so he can hurry. He takes the longest showers.”

  How did Vanessa know such a personal detail? Teagan didn’t know that about him. Her stomach lurched at the evidence she and Vanessa were both members of Nick’s harem.

  “Bathroom?”

  Vanessa pointed toward a hallway on the other side of the room, and Teagan dashed toward it. She barely made it before she threw up her breakfast in painful heaves. She huddled on the floor against the toilet, her eyes stinging and her ears ringing.

  Finally, her stomach settled, and she rose to clean up. She rinsed her mouth and wiped away the mascara that rimmed her eyes before running the sleeve of her jacket under the water because there was vomit on it.

  She checked her hair before pulling it into a ponytail and did a final review in the full-length mirror. Her face was ghost white, and her eyes were red-rimmed. Even worse, they also had dark circles under them because she hadn’t slept last night after Quinn’s phone call.

  Isn’t it just fabulous I’m going to see Nick when I look like shit?

  Of course she’d get sick at his house instead of in the comfort of her own condo. She had never felt such a horrible lack of control over her emotions. She was coming apart at the seams.

  It had been a terrible idea for her to show up at Nick’s condo unannounced, even though he did it to her all the time. She had never imagined one of his women would be here. She’d been almost sure he never brought women home.

  Although she had known it was unlikely, she’d nurtured the hope that Nick wanted to have a relationship with her. Vanessa’s presence in his condo certainly nipped those hopes in the bud.

  So many emotions swirled though her, but the strongest one was despair. She’d taken a risk, hoping Nick wanted her for more than one night, and it hadn’t paid off.

  She was tempted to stay in the bathroom, but eventually she took a deep breath and made her way back down the hall toward the living area. She stopped abruptly when she saw Nick. He stood in the middle of the room, his arms crossed over his chest.

  He wore a Colonials T-shirt and ratty black athletic pants. His feet were bare, and his hair was wet from his shower. He radiated health, which made her feel even more wretched.

  Her stomach lurched again when she saw his face. His lips were compressed, and his eyes were distant. She continued into the room, stopping a couple of feet away from him.

  They stared at each other for several heartbeats, and she wished he would wrap his arms around her and give
her the comfort she so desperately craved. She was scared, and she needed him.

  “Hi,” she said, her voice raspy from anxiety and her earlier bout of vomiting.

  He didn’t respond to her greeting, and she nervously wiped her sweaty hands on the front of her jacket, her heart thudding heavily. “I’d hoped that you would be glad to see me, but obviously you’re not.”

  His facial expression didn’t change, and he didn’t respond. He’d never been cold and unfriendly with her, and his lack of warmth made her heart ache. She told herself to leave before she made the situation worse. But her damn mouth opened anyway.

  “I thought you just needed time to accept what happened between us, but you clearly regret our night together.”

  He nodded, humming a little before he spoke. “Mistake.”

  She sucked in a breath, feeling as if he’d punched her in the stomach. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this.

  “Why?”

  He pressed his lips together but didn’t answer her question. Panic built in her chest, making it difficult to pull in a deep breath.

  “Talk to me, damn it,” she demanded, her voice thick.

  He looked up at the ceiling, obviously wishing he were anywhere but here with her. Tears welled in her eyes, and she tried to blink them back.

  “It wasn’t a mistake,” she said, hating the desperation in her voice. “We’re good together.”

  He shook his head slowly. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she wiped them away with the sleeve of her jacket, the one she hadn’t vomited all over.

  He cleared his throat. “Forget.”

  “Forget?” she repeated incredulously. “You want me to forget that you touched every inch of my body? You want me to forget what you feel like inside me? Is that what you want me to forget, Nick?”

  Her voice had risen with each question, yet his expression hadn’t changed. He nodded.

  “I don’t want to forget it. It was the best night of my life.”

 

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