Broken Pasts(24)

“Tell me this isn't a mistake,” I said as Nathaniel cupped my breasts, slid his warm hands under the fabric and caressed them with a firm but gentle touch. I almost collapsed to my knees, certain that I was going to explode into a million pieces and die from the pleasure of his touch. Nathaniel didn't grope like some men nor did he touch my boobs like they were made of glass. He cupped them and massaged them in gentle circles as I stepped into him and pressed our bare chests together. “Tell me,” I begged, afraid of myself, my feelings, Nathaniel. Here was a man who not dated a single person since his wife's death and now he was halfway home with me after a few days? There were only two explanations for that. One was that he didn't date, but that he slept around. Not good. The second was that he was an emotionally fragile human being who I had the very real potential of hurting. Not good either.

I stepped back, pushed his hands away and wrapped my arms around myself.

“Nathaniel, I … ”

“Theresa,” he said in that strong, authoritative voice. He was so friggin' sure of himself that it was hard for me to entertain option two for very long. He's just looking for sex, Theresa, I tried to tell myself and then immediately followed that up with, but is that a bad thing? Maybe you could use a little unattached sex right now? I looked up into Nathaniel's heated face, his warm eyes, so unlike Gary's that they'd be listed as antonyms in a dictionary, and I knew that there was no such thing as unattached with this man. Once he had a hold on me, he wasn't going to let go. “I know that you don't know me and that this is a long shot, but I think there's something here that could work.”

“I … ” I tried to protest, but then he was just there, wrapping his strong arms around me, pressing his mouth to mine, trailing his heated kisses down my neck. “I don't know if I can do this. I'm still … Gary is … oh God.”

“I'm not asking you to marry me,” Nathaniel said as he paused and pressed his forehead against mine. “Or make promises you can't keep. I just want to get to know you. Is that so bad?”

“Nathaniel, … ” I whispered, but it was the only word I could think to say. Nathaniel didn't pause for long, grabbing me gently by the upper arms and spinning me around so that he could tug down the zipper on my dress. It had been awhile since I'd had any in that particular department, so long that I'd even considered sleeping with Stuart. And let's face it, Stuart was no Nathaniel Sutherland. Strong and dark and sexy and organized and put together. I soon found myself unable to resist, drowning in lust and need and loneliness. When my dress fell to the floor in a pool of blue and white and Nathaniel stepped up behind me, pressed the hard, warm lines of his body against mine, I closed my eyes and gave in to temptation.

Nathaniel ran his hands down my sides, grabbed my hips, nibbled at the base of my neck and made me shiver. Without words we communicated with our bodies, brushing, touching, teasing, feeling, and I followed Nathaniel's firm but gentle cues, turning around and sliding onto the desk. He stepped between my knees and somehow, as if he'd known that I'd been dreaming about him, he did the one thing I was wishing with all of my perverted little heart that he might do. Nathaniel pulled my panties off and tossed them aside, knelt down and put his mouth to the burning, pulsing ache between my legs.

I gripped the sides of the desk and tried to figure out why there were stars dancing on the ceiling, blurring my vision and making my eyes water. My hips rose off the wood for a split second before Nathaniel gripped them tightly with his hands and pulled me back down to his mouth, hovering the heat of his breath over my clit, brushing his lips along the bare skin of my thighs, pressing soft kisses to my lower belly.

“Stop it,” I said, but my words didn't hold the slightest bit of oomph. I couldn't have stopped him even if I'd wanted to, and trust me, I didn't want to. Nathaniel was a master with his tongue, an artist, a magician, a … When he slid his finger inside of me, I nearly threw myself off of that desk. The sensations were intense, giving me white flashes of brightness in my vision, making me believe in angels and all that jazz. “Nathaniel,” I gasped as one finger became two, curled, found my G-spot. Really, before that moment I had never even believed it was there. Even as my back arched and pleasure poured through me, twirled up from my belly and found my limbs, curled my fingers, pulled my head back, I didn't believe. Not until that magic moment, a moment that I had thought would never come. “Nathaniel!” I called out and that was that, I was a helpless, gasping, sobbing mess, being torn apart and put back together again.

The orgasm, my first orgasm, was spectacular, like a fireworks show just for me, blooming inside my eyelids and opening me up to feelings I'd never had before. My body tensed, muscles contracting, toes twitching, and then all of a sudden there was this release. I was up, up, up and then I came crashing down, but in a good way. I was more relaxed in that moment than I had ever been in the whole of my life.

“Theresa?” Nathaniel asked as he stood up, leaned over me and pressed his hard body and his harder cock against me, pressed his lips to mine and tasted me with the sweetness of my own body. “I'm guessing you enjoyed that?” he continued as he pulled back just enough to look at me, a wicked smile on his lips and a fiery heat in his eyes. I nodded, but I couldn't move. My limbs were hanging over the edges of the desk like a doll's, and I was shaking from head to toe. I nodded my head and watched as Nathaniel brushed the hair from my sweaty forehead. I tried to reach down, find the zipper on his pants and welcome him into me, but he stopped me with a hand on my wrist.

“Not … ” I swallowed. “Not gonna let me return the favor?” I asked as Nathaniel kissed me ever so softly on the cheek.

“Not yet,” he said as I struggled to my elbows and found his lips again, pressed the back of my hand to his cheek and rested there feeling like nothing in the world could ruin this moment. Nothing but a frantic knocking at the door accompanied by a shouting voice, nothing but one of my ex-husbands. And it wasn't the obvious choice.

Outside my front door was Glen.

“Theresa! Open up. I know that you're in there!” I looked at Nathaniel looking at me and hoped like hell that that man (and I use the word very loosely) hadn't heard me. If he had he probably wouldn't have recognized the noises I'd made. Glen hadn't given me half the joy in our entire three year relationship that Nathaniel had in those few, short minutes. “I need to talk to you.”

“Let's ignore him,” I whispered as Nathaniel smiled big at me and finally let me put my hand over the bump in his pants. “Let's f*ck while he sits outside in the cold and screams.” I leaned forward and bit Nathaniel's earlobe, slid his zipper down, reached into his underwear …

“It's about Gary, Theresa. I know what's been going on. If you don't want to lose your daughter, you'll answer this goddamn door.” I paused mid motion, my fingers less than an inch away from Nathaniel's cock, and I knew that I had to stop.

“I … ” Nathaniel removed my hand very gently and kissed me on the lips.

“It's okay,” he said. “Let's take care of this, shall we?” And then he moved away leaving me feeling cold and bare. I realized that my scar was showing bright and shiny in the thin bars of sunlight that were streaming in from the back door and covered it with my hand. He hadn't asked about, hadn't stared, hadn't grimaced. I'd seen men do all three. I stood up quickly and picked up my dress. Nathaniel helped me slip it over my head and zip it up before going for his own shirt. His erection was nowhere to be seen, probably crushed by Glen's nasally voice and obnoxious demands. The man had no f*cking respect for me, never had, never would. Nathaniel knew it, too, and it was pissing him off.

He stepped over to the door, checked through the peephole and wrenched it open.

“You need to calm down and stop shouting,” Nathaniel commanded as I glanced around for my underwear. They were nowhere to be seen. “If you want to talk to Theresa, you can ring the doorbell like everyone else and wait your f*cking turn.”

“How dare you,” Glen said, pushing his glasses up his nose and stepping back, giving Nathaniel a disgusted once over. When he saw me standing behind him with my lips swollen and my cheeks pink, he just exploded into this angry frenzy that I'd only ever seen once before at the hospital. I'd thought then, in my drugged state, that he was arguing for me, because he loved me, but it wasn't me at all. It was even about his child. It was about this idealized image he had of a family. He didn't care who it was with or how they felt, just that they were there and he was normal and perfect. That's all Glen ever wanted. “You!” he pointed at me, stepping forward into the house. Nathaniel let him, at first, closing the door quickly behind him before he grabbed the back of Glen's shirt and pulled him back, slamming him into the bookcase that lined the wall.

“You need to calm the f*ck down,” Nathaniel said and all that calm, professional bodyguard was nowhere to be seen. He was defending me with a passionate intensity that made me want him with a fervor that I was hard pressed to even understand let alone iterate to myself. “Whatever you need to say, you can say it from here.” Nathaniel let go of Glen and stepped back, taking a massive breath into his lungs and closing his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them, he was considerably more calm.