The Fix (The Carolina Connections, #1)(40)
I ran my tongue around the shell of his ear and sucked his earlobe. Apparently that was the last straw. Nate physically picked me up and headed to my bedroom with his hands on my ass, and I had no choice but to hang on for dear life. This was shocking and a bit embarrassing on many levels, the least of which being the chronically untidy state of my bedroom.
Let me explain.
In all these romance novels, the buff guys are constantly picking the girls up and throwing them on the bed or having vertical make-out sessions—all while not straining a single muscle. I am not that girl. I have tits and I have ass, and I’m not saying that in some cute little “oh, look at her perky booty” kind of way. I have double Ds and a very proportionate ass to match. That very often puts me into the plus-size department and then on to a tailor to fit the smaller parts of me. Everyone loves to talk about boobs and booty like they are thrilled the old bombshell figure is back in style, but I can tell you two things: (1) a rack like this wreaks havoc on your back, and (2) tailors are not inexpensive.
So Nate carrying me to my bedroom, an event which should have been a romantic milestone complete with “Up Where We Belong” playing in the background, was instead an episode that filled me with self-doubt and imagined trips to the emergency room. A hernia, at the very least, was a distinct possibility in this little scenario—how romantic can you get?
Amazingly, though, we made it without injury and he deposited me gently on the bed. He honestly didn’t look any worse for wear, and his lustful look implied I’d better kick my insecurities to the curb. Shit was about to get real. Yowza!
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he growled while gazing at me from his elevated viewpoint at the side of the bed. “Lose the pants and the blouse. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Holy shit. It seemed someone was putting on his alpha pants.
His gritty voice and confidence were such a freaking turn-on that I couldn’t comply fast enough. Clothes went flying and, lying there in my panties and black tank top, I looked up at him from my bed and couldn’t quite believe this was happening. I couldn’t even remember my last sexual encounter, which I’m sure I should have found depressing but, at the moment, my mind was very much otherwise occupied.
“You’re so fucking spectacular.” His pupils were large in his intense blue eyes.
Was this real? Nobody had ever looked at me like this before.
Still fully clothed, Nate leaned down and kissed my belly. He pushed the material of my tank up with his nose and began to run his tongue along my stomach, over my belly button and then across the top of my panties. “You smell so good,” he murmured and then lifted my tank to reveal my black lace bra. He pulled the shirt over my head and then returned to hover over my breasts. “I can’t believe how perfect you are,” he said almost reverently. His eyes shifted up to mine and burned through me. “May I?” he asked, and I felt so stunned and unsure, my hands just rested at my sides while he explored my body. I think they were as shocked as I was.
“Yes,” was all I could manage.
His fingers grazed gently over my lace-covered nipples and they pebbled at his light touch. His lips then replaced his fingers and he began to lick and suck me through the lace. I couldn’t stand it any longer and had to reach to my shoulders and pull the straps down so he could gain full access to my aching breasts. He groaned at the first sight of my dark rosy nipples before he covered them with his lips and tongue. I cried out when he lightly bit each one.
My hands, finally recovered from the shock of Nate’s laser-focused attention, reached for him and I was beyond frustrated when I realized again that he was still dressed. Determined to remedy that, I clutched the hem of his t-shirt, skimming the dusting of hair on his lower belly in the process. I quickly stripped the shirt over his head and within a millisecond my hands were tracing every hill and valley of his shoulders, chest, and abs. Perfection. God, he was firm and smooth and his skin was incredibly sensitive if his occasional shivers were any indication. I could caress him all night and never get bored. Of course, I’d have to invite my lips and tongue to participate as well. I circled one of his nipples with my tongue and he responded with something between a groan and a laugh. God, I loved that.
Soon my playtime was over, it seemed, because his hands firmly gripped my wrists and held them to the bed while his mouth dove down to the waistband of my panties and took the lace between his teeth. He looked up into my face and I swear, at that instant, life as I knew it stood still. I don’t know what it was but something profound, something more than sex or teasing or friendship, gripped at my chest and I found it hard to breathe.
What did this mean? I’d never experienced another feeling like it, and I could see in his eyes that Nate sensed it too. I felt heady and strange and his look told me he was similarly afflicted.
“Mommy?” The door creaked open.
No no no no no! Rocco! I can’t believe we didn’t lock the door!
For some damn reason, kids don’t understand that they are not allowed to interrupt epiphanic moments. I threw a sheet over my body and did my best to kick Nate onto the floor. (So sorry, Nate!)
“What’s wrong, buddy? Why aren’t you asleep?” My heart was beating out of my chest.
“There are two reasons, but I can’t ‘member the first one.” Ugh. “I know the second one is that I need to bring a pack of new crayons to school tomorrow,” he said as he climbed onto my bed, not noticing the shirtless man on the floor at the other side.