Offically Over It Page 8

  “I’m not altogether thinking straight,” I admitted. “Having you this close is making my brain not function.”

  Was it okay to admit that he did this to me? Would he use it against me if he knew that I wanted him as badly as I did?

  Because right now, I was really slick between my legs.

  Like, embarrassing, going to need a new pair of underwear, kind of slick.

  Just having him touching me was enough to make my thoughts scatter and my knees go weak.

  “Welcome to my world,” he growled. “I’ve wanted this since I was old enough to see that you were a girl.”

  That’d been a… while.

  I’d developed early.

  In fact, when I was ten, I had my period. By the time I was eleven, I’d had boobs, and Nathan had upped his game and put a ban on playing with me because I had boobs.

  From that point on, he’d kept himself as far away from me as he could unless our parents had forced us to play together and ‘be nice.’

  “You sure had a funny way of showing it,” I told him. “You were really mean.”

  “I was mean?” he asked, pulling back only far enough that he could bite down on the skin above my collarbone. “You were mean. I couldn’t even talk to you without you flipping me off.”

  He had a point.

  But that was a defense mechanism at its finest.

  His big, rough hands skimmed up the length of my hips, his fingers hooking into the sweatshirt that I’d stolen when he’d left abruptly earlier in the day.

  “That’s my sweatshirt,” he said as he skimmed his fingers up until he got to bare skin.

  I felt my nipples stiffen at his words and wondered if he knew about the other clothes that I’d stolen from him.

  A sweatshirt in high school, and a t-shirt or two in college.

  Okay, I knew exactly how many t-shirts that I’d stolen, and it sure the hell wasn’t just two.

  It was four. In college anyway.

  Every time we’d stayed in the same place—which was a lot since we had family vacations together with my family and his—I stole something of his.

  Now I had a box in my closet that was all things Nathan.

  A plastic ring that he’d gotten me when we were young. Before he’d decided that I was a girl.

  A leather bracelet that I still wore to this day that I’d taken from him the summer we’d turned eighteen.

  A silver necklace that he’d gotten me when I’d graduated college.

  The ring box that fit the ring that I no longer had.

  “My ring,” I moaned. “Fuck. I’m going to need that.”

  I hated myself.

  I’d wanted to wear that ring since I’d gotten it, and never had.

  Now I never would.

  “I’ll buy you a new one,” he murmured. “One more practical for you to wear to work and be slipping gloves on and off every single day.”

  I felt my insides warm at knowing that he knew me as well as he did.

  But still, I wanted my old ring.

  Except, I forgot everything about the ring in the next moment.

  Just as quickly as I’d had the ring on my mind, it was gone in a poof of smoke as Nathan’s fingers closed around my hips and he dragged me forward.

  I honestly wasn’t sure what happened.

  One second, I was thinking about a piece of jewelry, and the next Nathan was picking me up, I was wrapping my legs around his waist, and he was carrying me to the bed.

  I’d been in there before.

  I’d snooped my ass off the last time I was at his place alone. I mean, he told me to stay put, so I did.

  But not without doing some digging while he was gone.

  One, I stole another t-shirt.

  Two, I went through his bedside drawer: he had lube in there, a Penthouse magazine, a box of tissues and some Chapstick.

  Three, I went through his medicine cabinet.

  No condoms.

  None.

  Which brought up my next stupid comment.

  “I don’t have any condoms,” I blurted out. “And I’m not on the pill.”

  He turned into his bedroom and walked over to the bed that I’d wanted more than anything to climb into earlier and make myself at home in.

  Seconds later he gently sat me down, following me down until I was flat on my back, and he was hovering over me, his eyes on mine.

  “From what I understand, your condition was to have my baby anyway, right?” I asked.

  I licked my lips. “Not right now.”

  “When do you want it?” he asked curiously.

  I thought about that for a long moment.

  I had no clue, to be honest.

  I just knew that he had a lot of things going on right now and adding a pregnancy to the picture probably wasn’t the smartest thing in the world to do.

  Except, Nathan’s eyes were deep, dark pools of blue fire. And I had a feeling that if Nathan pushed this—which I could tell he was about to do—I’d give him whatever he wanted.

  I’d never been able to steel myself against the man.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  “How far apart do you want kids?” he asked, acting as if we were standing around having a conversation drinking tea and him not half naked on top of me as we were about to start the process of popping my cherry.

  “Umm,” I hesitated, my brain not thinking with all cylinders. “Like, close? Eighteen months?”

  His eyes went a little melty at my words. “So you want more than one?”

  I couldn’t stop my head from nodding even if I’d nailed it to the headboard behind me.

  I wanted every single baby that Nathan Cox was willing to give me.

  Every. Single. One.

  If that was fifteen, I’d happily carry all of them without a single complaint.

  “So does the closeness in age mean that you want them close together, just mine and yours? Because my baby right now…”

  I knew what he was trying to say before he even voiced it.

  “I hate what she named him. I started calling your baby Darren, Dare for short,” I said. “And, like I already told you. This baby will be mine just as much as he’s yours. I don’t care what Eerie thinks. I… I don’t even know this baby beyond seeing him all of three times in the NICU, but Nathan, I’m not wired right. I can’t just turn off and on my emotions when I’m in that NICU. Even knowing that Eerie is his mother didn’t detract from his cuteness.”

  Nathan softened above me, his features seeming to melt as he listened to my words.

  I had a feeling he was worried about how his baby would be treated by me because of who his mother was.

  And granted, that worry was warranted. Eerie had been an absolute dick to me for a really long time. If anyone deserved my ire, it was her.

  I yanked him down by curling my palm around the back of his neck until his mouth was only inches away from mine. “I would never take that woman’s sins out on an innocent baby. Especially not one that was yours.”

  Before he could reply to that, though, I was kissing him, reigniting the fire that’d burned down to a mere simmer.

  Seconds later, I broke the kiss and did what I’d really wanted to do for the longest of times.

  My mouth came down on his tattoo, my tongue outlining the laces of the softball tattoo over his heart, and I couldn’t stop myself. I sank my teeth in and bit it.

  He laughed, pulling my head up and pressing a fast, quick kiss onto my startled lips—because I never got to hear Nathan laugh. He just didn’t do it.

  “The day you made me get that?” he said, pulling his lips away from mine only far enough so he could speak. “I wanted to kill you. I hate tattoos.”

  I knew that he did.

  That was why winning was so fucking sweet.

  “Yep,” I said. “Knowing that tight little perfect, untouched body of yours was marked with me? That day
was pretty freakin’ sweet for me.”

  He growled and yanked my hair, pulling my head back and exposing my neck to him.

  That’s when I decided to stop talking.

  Talking obviously wasn’t getting me anywhere. At least, it wasn’t getting me where I wanted.

  And every time that I opened my mouth he stopped what he was doing.

  I didn’t want him to stop. Not at all.

  I wanted him to start and never stop.

  I wanted him to devour me.

  I wanted him so badly that I couldn’t see straight. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t function but on the most basic of levels.

  But boy, could I feel.

  I could feel the way his lips were sucking against my skin.

  I could feel the way that his knee was kicking my thighs apart, forcing them to open for his.

  I could feel the way that my nipples were pebbling, wishing that they were free and pressing against the coarse hair that gathered on his chest.

  That chest hair?

  I’d wanted to run my fingers through that chest hair since I was eighteen.

  To see what it felt like against my nipples as he fucked me.

  I moaned and widened my legs for him, wishing that he’d pulled my pants and underwear off before he’d situated himself between my thighs. Because then I could feel the heat of him. I could have one less barrier stopping me from feeling him against me more clearly.

  “My pants.” I broke my silence ban. “I need you to take them off.”

  He growled and ignored me, his mouth moving to the swells of my breasts that were solidly confined behind the material of my sports bra.

  I’d come straight from work.

  I was still in half of my stupid scrubs.

  The bra that I wore was for comfort, not for style.

  And suddenly I was wishing that I’d worn the lace one that I’d bought with him in mind last year.

  Before I could think too hard on the state of my bra, though, his fingers were curling around one strap and pulling it down over my shoulder.

  I licked my lips and pinched my eyes shut as he worked it down over my arm, around my hand, and let it go to come to a rest underneath my armpit.

  “That’ll stretch out my bra,” I found myself saying.

  He paused to look at me, once again reminding me of my vow of silence.

  Why did I say anything at all again?

  “Does it matter?” he asked curiously.

  “No,” I admitted. “But I paid sixty bucks for it. It’s expensive. If you stretch it out…”

  He rolled his eyes and went back to work on the other side of my bra, once again pulling it down my arm and stretching it in a way it wasn’t designed to be stretched.

  But he made up for it by pressing kisses down the length of my shoulder, then my arm.

  Then, he sat back on his haunches and pulled the top of the bra down low enough that it exposed everything except for the very tips of my nipples. And since the bra was so damn tight, it stayed exactly where it was despite my boobs’ willingness to pop free.

  Or my willingness to be free.

  His tongue traveled along the line of the bra, dipping up and over each swell with the utmost care.

  By the time that he finally tugged the bra the rest of the way underneath my breasts, I was a panting, needy mess that was seconds away from ripping the damn thing down myself.

  The moment that he saw my breasts, he groaned.

  “God,” he growled as he stared at the dusky tips. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to see these again since I was a kid.”

  One time when we were vacationing together, Nathan had walked into the bathroom that I was changing in without announcing himself or knocking.

  He’d taken one look at my breasts and had frozen.

  Me?

  Well, I’d done what any teenage girl would’ve done.

  I’d screamed.

  Before Nathan had left, though, he’d taken a good, long look.

  A long enough look that it was likely that he was correct.

  He’d liked what he’d seen.

  “You make me crazy,” I whispered, arching up to put my breasts closer to his face.

  Closer to that mouth that I wanted sucking on each turgid peak.

  “Don’t rush me.” He pressed his hand down flat onto my belly. “I want to do what I want to do. I’ve been dreaming about taking this sweet little body of yours. And you won’t rush me.”

  I groaned and fell back to the bed, realizing rather quickly that if I wanted Nathan, I was going to have to deal with Nathan’s attitude.

  His ‘my way or the highway’ frame of mind that had always driven me nuts.

  His take control nature was always one that’d really gotten on my last nerve.

  Now, though?

  It was hot.

  Him controlling every single aspect of what we were about to do was sending tingles straight to my most intimate of places.

  He moved up until his knee was pressed solidly between my legs, the hard meat of his thigh pressing against where I needed him the most.

  Chapter 12

  You’re wrong. Just sit there in your cave of wrong, and bask in your wrongness.

  -Text from Reggie to Nathan

  Nathan

  There were things that I’d always wanted to do.

  And there were things that I’d always wanted, but never thought I had a chance of doing.

  And one of those things was lying on the bed, eyes glazed underneath me.

  Her breaths were coming in shallow pants, and with each inhale and exhale, her breasts would jiggle.

  I was practically drooling for her as I bent down and finally allowed myself to capture one of the dusky pink nipples between my lips.

  I growled when she cried out in elation, her body moving in a rhythm against me as she tried to force me to move faster than I wanted to move.

  I wouldn’t budge, though.

  This was what I’d wanted for so long that I was going to do this right.

  And thoroughly.

  “Don’t move.” I pushed down on her belly again, causing her to growl in frustration.

  “I’m not!” she cried out, anger lacing her tone.

  “Could’ve fooled me,” I teased.

  She hissed out a breath when I went back to her nipple, pulling it into my mouth and sucking on it lightly.

  Not hard. Not enough to cause her to buck against me.

  But a little baby suck that would keep her anticipation peaked.

  Her hands found my hair and she buried them down deep until she practically clutched the roots.

  Then she gave a mighty tug and pulled until I either gave in and pulled away from her breast, or let her pull out my hair.

  I bit down lightly, giving her a little pain of her own, and she lightened her pull. But she didn’t stop.

  I laughed at the way that she growled so cutely in frustration.

  “I want my pants off, goddammit!” she cried out. “Take them off!”

  I laughed and instead switched to the other breast, pulling that one into my mouth hard.

  She loosened her hold up even more, crying out and keening as I pulled on her nipple roughly.

  “Fuck,” she groaned. “What are you doing to me?”

  This time when I pulled myself up, I captured both of her hands and pinned them above her head with one of mine, then went back to the neglected nipple that wasn’t as red or wet from my mouth as the other.

  “Now, where was I?” I teased as I blew gently against it.

  She shivered as goosebumps started to fill her chest.

  Those nipples, though?

  Those were perfect little peaks that practically begged for more attention.

  At least, I was about to give them some before I found myself flat on my back and staring up at the ceiling in surprise.

  “What the hell was that
?” I asked, sitting up.

  “That,” she growled as she crawled off the bed and roughly started to loosen the drawstrings of her scrub pants. “Was me getting you off of me so I could get these stupid pants off!”

  I watched her tug them down as I contemplated my next move.

  “I was leaving them on because I don’t have any condoms,” I pointed out.

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “I think we’re beyond that point, don’t you?” she asked grimly as she shoved her panties and pants down to her ankles.

  They got tangled up around her ankles because she was still somehow wearing those ugly ass shoes.

  But it didn’t take her long to kick them off.

  “Take off your pants,” she ordered fiercely as her clothes sailed across the room.

  I looked at her standing there in her bright pink compression socks that went up to her knees and knew that I’d never seen a more beautiful thing in my life.

  She didn’t shave her pussy.

  It was a bushy curly mess that made me want to bury my face in between her legs and stay there for days.

  And her haughty, I don’t give a fuck attitude was making me want to wrap my arms around her, throw her down onto the bed on her hands and knees, and fuck it right out of her.

  Her hair was slipping down from the bun that she had at the top of her head, a few stray spirals curling down around her ears and chin.

  Her mascara was slightly smudged now, whether from me or from her, I wasn’t sure.

  But seriously, my heart was pounding so hard in my chest because of how beautiful she looked that I could barely figure out where to start.

  “Well?” she snarled. “Are you going to take your pants off? Or am I going to have to do that, too?”

  I was almost tempted to allow her to try it.

  However, with the flush of annoyance rising on her face and chest, I knew that she wouldn’t take kindly to me laughing while she tried.

  So instead, I stood up and slowly started to work my belt open, followed by the button of my jeans.

  She watched me work, her eyes everywhere at once, trying to watch the play of muscles in my arms as I unzipped. Then they were at the gap in my pants as the zipper came to a stop at the bottom.

  Finally, she watched my eyes as I slowly started to push them down my thighs.

  I sat down on the bed and kicked my boots off one by one, then bent forward and yanked my socks and jeans off with rough tugs.