Nash (Marked Men #4)(34)

“Saint?”

I could feel the latex slide over me. Good thing she was a nurse, she didn’t have any trip up getting it around the metal decorating my business.

“Nash?”

Her eyes were on mine as she sat up, put both her hands right on the center of my chest, and seated herself down on me, all the way to the hilt. She was tight, suffocatingly so. She was hot and slick, and since she was on top, riding me up and down in a torturous motion, all I wanted to do was watch myself disappear inside of her. Everything about this girl was bound to be shrouded in secrets, even what we looked like when we were joined together. I loved it and hated it at the same time. Kind of how I was starting to feel about Saint Ford.

Whatever I had been about to say to her fled. It was odd. I’d never had sex where my partner was fully clothed while I was on display. I’d also never been intimate with anyone who seemed like they were desperately, furiously trying to get to the end, regardless of what I was or wasn’t doing. Like she was using me to get to completion but wasn’t even in the act with me. I put my hands on her, tried to get the strap of her dress down over her shoulder so I could get access to all that creamy, white skin, and scowled in concern when she flinched away from me.

Her head was tossed back, her hair was pooling in a fiery blanket across the top of my bare thighs, and her hands were curling into clawing talons on my chest. Her eyes were locked on mine, so I saw it brimming, saw the surprise, the wonder crest over the thunderclouds when she came apart. I also saw tears spring into her gaze and the way her chest started to rise and fall like she was going to hyperventilate as soon as the last shuddering crest of the orgasm wafted over her.

I mean I was pretty good in bed, or on the couch, as the case might be, but that was the fastest orgasm I had ever inspired in any woman, and as far as I was concerned, we hadn’t even gotten to the good stuff yet. I was still painfully hard, still dying to get her naked and my mouth on any part of her that she would let me, but Saint had other plans.

She looked down at me like she just suddenly realized I was there, a living breathing person and not a vibrator. She jerked her hands off of my chest, scrambled off of me in a way that made my dick scream at both of us, and collected all that glorious hair into her shaking hands. The tears shimmering in her eyes started to fall, and before I could sit up and ask her what in the hell was going on, she was practically running for the door.

“I’m so sorry, Nash.”

While getting left high and dry with a raging hard-on wasn’t my favorite thing that had happened that day, I was more worried about the fact that she looked like she was going to shatter like an icicle hanging off the edge of a steep roof. She was shaking all over, her eyes were too big in her pale face, and her freckles were standing out in stark relief. The trails the tears were leaving made her look like something that was going to shatter.

“Saint, hold on a second.” I had to struggle back into my pants, not easy when my dick was still ready and rearing to go, but she shook her head at me and dashed to the front door.

“No, no … I told you I didn’t know how to do this with you. I have to go.” The door slammed behind her in her haste to exit, and by the time I was semipresentable, tucked away, and had made it to the hallway with only a slight limp, she was long gone.

The other new redhead in my life, however, was coming in through the front door. She was all bundled up and slid her gaze over my rumpled and rough state and blew out a sharp whistle through her teeth.

“Bad date?”

I snorted and leaned against the open doorway, my arms up over my head. Royal had no problem checking out the show. Too bad none of it was for her.

“It started out a little rough, got bad, had a high point, and then ended with a whimper.”

She let her gaze roam unabashedly over my naked chest, tattooed arms, and still-open pants. Why couldn’t I be attracted to her? She was adorable, bold, and I liked her unabashed and unapologetic attitude, but there was no doubt about it, she wasn’t going to be a substitute for Saint. The idea of it even took care of the uncomfortable problem in my pants.

“I gotta say, you are better than TV for pure entertainment value.”

I snorted. “Glad you can find humor at the state of my dismal dating life.”

She made her way to her own door and smiled at me over her shoulder.

“You’re a babe, a little rough and dangerous, and she’s shy and quiet. I saw her on my way in. You probably overwhelm her and she feels out of her depth. Give her a minute to realize you wouldn’t be all up on her if you didn’t think she was just as awesome as she clearly thinks you are. That is a pretty girl with a crush for sure. Boys need to be careful with pretty girls that have crushes.”

I lifted my eyebrow at her.

“How do you know all that? You psychic or something?”

She pushed her own door open and laughed at me.

“Not even close. I have really good instincts about people. It serves me well in my line of work.”

She looked like a yoga instructor or a high-end stripper, and with a name like Royal, come on. I couldn’t imagine what her job really was.

“What do you do?”

She lifted one of her own eyebrows back at me. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Don’t give up on her, neighbor. She looks like she could use a guy like you, someone to shake her up, force her to have some fun. Have a good night.”