Keeping His Promise: A When It Happens Novella, Book 2 Page 8
He couldn’t do anything now but follow his gut and listen to his instincts, which were telling him to hold onto her. To somehow keep control of a situation that he didn’t really have any control over at all. Her apartment, his condo, any goddamn high-priced hotel room. In the end, they were all the same. The only control he’d gain by having her in his bed was an illusory one. He knew that, damn it. And yet, it didn’t matter.
He wanted her there, in his fucking bed, where she’d be surrounded by his scent. Wanted that beautiful body naked in his sheets, until they held her warm, mouthwatering scent as much as her own did.
Fuck, he just wanted her. Period. Wanted to keep her in his bed, drowning her in multiple orgasms, until he’d finally smashed his way through those goddamn walls surrounding her, and reached her soft, tender center.
Until he’d reached the very heart of her.
They kept the conversation light on the drive to his place, chatting about simple things, like the Chargers and how he’d come to love surfing as much as he did. There was also a heated discussion about whether the new Star Wars movies were going to be better than the old ones, with her claiming J.J. Abrams was a genius and him arguing that the classics could never be improved.
When they reached the condo, the rain was not only coming down so hard it looked like the heavens had opened, but it was practically sideways, which made the umbrella fairly useless. Sean tried to cover her as much as he could, but by the time he had his front door closed and locked behind them, she was shivering from the cold, her clothes more soaked than ever.
“Come on,” he told her, after taking off his waterlogged boots. “Let’s get you out of that wet dress and into a warm bath.”
She smirked as she glanced up at him from where she stood by the door, and he watched as she set her purse down and slipped the flip-flops she was wearing off her pretty feet. Her toenails were painted a dark, midnight gray that matched her eyes and her dress, the color somehow managing to look both beautiful and edgy. “You gonna give me a bath now?” she teased, drawing his gaze back up to her beautiful face.
He flashed her a crooked smile. “Since I plan on being in it with you, you bet your sweet little ass I am.”
She clucked her tongue as she shook her head. “Little ass? I think you obviously have me confused with someone else.”
He laughed as he grabbed her hand and tugged her in front of him, smacking her right butt cheek as he herded her toward the master bathroom. She jumped from the playful pop, his smile growing wider as he leaned down and spoke near her ear. “Compared to me, everything about you is little. Including your perfect, biteable ass.”
“You bite my ass, I’m biting yours right back.”
Another husky laugh rumbled up from his chest. “I’ll look forward to that.”
“Pervert,” she quipped, snickering softly.
He couldn’t stop the twitch of his lips, loving it when she got feisty. “When it comes to you, absolutely. You inspire me, Miss Richards.”
There was actually a faint blush on her cheeks when they reached the bathroom, which he found entirely adorable. He couldn’t resist pressing a soft kiss there, against her smooth skin, before heading over to the massive bathtub that could have probably fit a small army.
As he turned on the taps, careful to get the water the right temperature for her, Sean realized this was the first time he’d ever used the thing. It’s not like he’d use it on his own. And if he was honest with himself, now that he’d been inside Natalie, he couldn’t see himself sharing it with any woman other than the fiery redhead standing over by the granite-topped counter, a beautiful blush on her cheeks as she unzipped her sodden dress and let it puddle on the floor around her feet.
For some reason, getting her in there, in his bathtub, just seemed…right. Plus, she needed it. She was so fucking tense and skittish at times with him, a chance to sit back and relax would no doubt do her some good. And hell, having her naked body sliding under his hands was something he wanted. Badly.
She was still standing by the counter, wearing her bra and the new pair of panties she’d put on, since he’d shredded the first pair. Jerking his chin toward them, he said, “All of it, Nat. I want you bare, so don’t stop.”
“I’m not stopping,” she shot back with a little snort, pulling her panties over her curvy hips and revealing the dark red curls on her mound. Her skin was beautifully pale, a perfect contrast against all that gleaming red hair falling over her shoulders and the tidy patch hiding the lips of her cunt—and Sean was pretty sure he’d just swallowed his fucking tongue at how perfect she was. Then she reached behind her back, unhooked her bra, letting it slip down her arms to the floor, and he was pretty sure he’d just died and gone to heaven.
Christ, that body of hers was going to be the death of him, it was so fucking breathtaking. She was plump and silky. Cushiony and soft. Not a flat plane on her. All curves and lush, decadent swells. He wanted to press his open mouth to every inch of her creamy skin and lap at her with his tongue. At the delicate base of her throat. Between those mouthwatering breasts. He just wanted to bury his head between those feminine thighs and devour her. Fucking consume her.
“Um…Sean?”
Clearing his throat, he shook himself from his trance and moved to his feet, quickly shedding his own clothes. Then he climbed into the tub, and turned toward her, holding out his hand for her to take. Her big eyes looked huge as she ran her gaze over every inch of him, the blush in her cheeks getting pinker when she reached his erection, his cock so fucking hard he probably could have gone up to bat with it.
“It isn’t gonna get any smaller, so you’ll just have to ignore it,” he murmured, hoping to make her smile.
When she laughed and walked over to the side of the tub, taking his hand and letting him help her in, he felt like a fucking god. Like he could do anything he set his mind to, so long as he had this woman by his side.
And if that wasn’t some serious shit that required further contemplation when all his blood was no longer rushing to his dick, he didn’t know what was.
Sinking down into the tub, he couldn’t help but stare as she turned around and joined him, the warmth of the water turning her pale skin a rosy pink. She reached forward and turned the tap off, then wrapped her arms around her bent knees, her long hair falling down her back in a cascade of damp, silky curls.
Sensing that there were some deep thoughts filling her head as well, he reached for her tense shoulders and pulled her between his legs. With her back plastered against his front, he leaned down to her ear, and whispered, “What are you thinking about, Miss Richards?”
“Just that it’s…kind of intimate, you know? I mean, sex is about as intimate as it gets. But this,” she murmured, fluttering her hand out to the side, “it’s not really the kind of thing you do with someone you don’t know very well.”
Because it was romantic. That’s what she was trying to say. And he liked that she was thinking that way—just not that it was making her uncomfortable. Because if she let him, he planned on romancing the hell out of her.
Pressing one hand against the gentle swell of her belly, he sank back against the edge of the tub as he ran the fingertips of his other hand over her pale hip, just beneath the surface of the water. “You’re wrong, Nat. I know a hell of a lot about you.”
“You don’t.”
“I do,” he countered, mesmerized by the way her breasts gently swayed with her breaths, her nipples small and pretty and beautifully pink.
“Like what?” she asked, sitting up and twisting a bit so that she could see his face.
Staring into those dark, curious eyes, he answered her question. “Well, I know that you’re incredibly beautiful,” he said in a low voice, the husky words making her breathe a little deeper, while desire smoldered in her gaze. “I also know that you’re stubborn, strong, funny, feisty, and smart-as-hell. And all of that I got just from talking to you.”
“Hmm,” she murmured, sounding
a bit embarrassed—which was fucking adorable. She also sounded more than a little turned on—which was just fucking hot.
Curving his hand around her hip, he went on. “And then there are all the things I’ve learned from listening to you hang out with Sophie and Chris.”
“Hmm,” she started to murmur again, before giving a soft gasp and blinking at him. “Wait—what? How did you do that? Your condo is across the way from his!”
“His patio faces the beach. Mine does too,” he explained, smirking at the too-cute-for-words expression of outrage that was spreading across her face. “So when I have my patio doors open, I can pretty much hear anything you guys are saying.”
“You sneaky eavesdropper!” she huffed, smacking his chest.
“Hey, I can’t help it if you’re loud,” he shot back, laughing as he blocked her next playful hit.
“I’ll show you loud,” she warned, going for a clump of his chest hair. He stopped her just in time, capturing her wrists in his hands.
“Good.” He couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he pinned her wrists behind her back, while she wriggled against him, her gorgeous breasts pressed hard against his chest. “Be as loud as you want. I love it when you’re coming and screaming your head off.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, and he swore he could feel his hunger for her roll through him like a physical thing, his cock giving a hard pulse against her hip that had her eyes going wide.
Voice low and rough, he said, “You have a sexy little pink tongue, Natalie Richards. I’ll put it to good use if you don’t get it back in your mouth.”
She licked her lower lip, and he sucked in a sharp breath, feeling every muscle in his body go tight with anticipation. Christ, if she ever sucked on his cock, he’d probably enjoy it so much it stopped his heart.
Bringing her captured wrists up to his chest, he held them there, his heavy gaze locked tight with hers. “As I was saying, I know a lot about you. And I like it all. You’re sharp. Classy. Beautiful and exceptionally sexy. And despite what you want people to think, you’re kind.”
“Kind?” She shot him a skeptical look from under her lashes. “Where did you get that?”
Stroking the pulse points at her wrists with his thumbs, he said, “I’ve watched you while you were working, remember? You talk to the sad men and women who find themselves sitting at your bar. You listen, and when they’re genuine, you care. Hell, you’ve even personally kicked out a group of asshole frat boys when they started messing with one of the servers who’s homosexual.”
Confusion creased her brow. “How could you possibly know that?” she whispered.
The corner of his lips twitched. “You aren’t aware of how much Sophie likes to brag about your awesomeness when you’re not around?”
She drew an unsteady breath, then caught her lower lip in her teeth, and he thought she looked too fucking beautiful for words. Her face was free of make-up, what little she’d had on washed away by the rain, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the delicate line of her nose. Then across the innocent freckles that dotted her cheeks.
“So, yeah, I know a lot about you,” he murmured, releasing his hold on her wrists as he leaned back again, wanting to give her some space. To give her the chance to come closer to him, if that’s what she wanted. “And when you take it all and combine it with how fucking sexy I think you are, it should be fairly clear that I’ve wanted to touch you, any way I could, for a while now.”
She turned her head, looking away from him, and he could feel a subtle thread of tension seeping into her. “There’s still a lot you don’t know,” she said quietly, her tongue flicking nervously across her lower lip. “Stuff that might not have been a big deal to some people, but…” She trailed off with an awkward lift of her shoulders. Then she sighed, and brought her shadowed gaze back to his. “But it was a big deal to me, even though I wasn’t the one it happened to. I don’t trust easily because of it.”
“Tell me,” he said simply, wanting to know what had shaped her. What had hurt her.
“It isn’t easy.”
He lifted his hand, smoothing her hair back from her brow. “Neither was telling you about my demon ex. But I did it. Because as new as all this is, you’re already important to me. Even when you were trying to push me away, I just wanted to throw you over my shoulder and bring you back here. I’ve tried, but I can’t stop thinking about you. And now I don’t even want to try. I just want to keep doing exactly what we’re doing.”
A tremor moved through her as he spoke, but she didn’t pull any farther away from him. Instead, she turned and curled up against him, pressing her cheek against his chest, right over the heavy beat of his heart.
Wrapping his arms around her, he said, “Come on, Nat. Talk to me. Trust me.”
* * *
Taking a deep breath, Natalie pressed her hand over Sean’s heart, finding comfort in the hard, thudding beat. “Do you still love her?” she murmured, knowing she had no right to ask, but unable to hold the question inside.
The change in topic seemed to catch him off guard, because he sounded genuinely confused as he said, “Who? Dani?”
When she nodded, he laughed low in his chest. “Hell, no.”
She lifted her head to look at him again. “Really?”
He looked like he was trying hard not to smile. “Yes, really. That’s something you don’t ever have to worry about.”
“Well, I would think any woman you get involved with would have to worry about what’s going to happen when she comes back, begging for another chance.”
His dark eyes gleamed beneath the heavy weight of his lashes—but she wasn’t sure if it was because she’d insinuated they were getting involved (which she couldn’t think about without freaking out, so she didn’t think about it), or if it was simply the idea of his ex begging for another chance at him. “And what makes you think she’s going to do that?” he asked lightly.
“Sean, come on. You’re an incredible guy. She’d be crazy not to.”
She was basically lying on him on her side, and his hands settled on her outer hip, thumbs softly stroking against her wet skin, as he said, “She already did.”
Her jaw dropped. “When?”
“A few months ago.” He shrugged, acting like it was no big deal, when she knew that couldn’t have been the case.
“And?” she asked, drawing out the word.
“And I told her to go back home.”
“You did?”
He angled his head a bit to the side, his dark hair gleaming under the hazy, golden light spilling across them from above the mirror. “What exactly did you think I would do?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that…you loved her.”
“Oh, I sure as hell thought I did,” he drawled in a wry tone, a flat smile twisting the corner of his mouth. “But, fuck, Nat. I was young and arrogant and thought I knew what the hell I was doing. I wasn’t nearly as together as you are at twenty-four. Nowhere close. So, yeah, I cared about her—but I know now that I never gave myself to her completely.”
She caught her lower lip in her teeth, wondering why that was, but didn’t want to push the issue. God only knew she’d already been nosey-as-hell with her questions.
But he read her as easily as he always did, a knowing look smoldering in his blue eyes as he murmured five brief, simple words: “She wasn’t the right one.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not knowing what else to say.
He gripped her a little tighter in response, his hooded gaze never leaving hers as he said, “So the rest of the story is pretty simple. When I explained how things were to her, and tried to make it clear that I wasn’t ever heading down that path with her again, she threw a tantrum and headed back to the East Coast. And I was happy to see her go.”
She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the middle of his chest, then rested her cheek there again, lost in thoughts of the past, present, and future. But it was the
past that needed to be talked about, and she was still struggling to find the words to explain what she needed to say, when his deep voice pulled her back to the moment.
“Hey, where’d you go?” he asked, cupping the side of her face with his big hand, his callused thumb stroking softly against her skin.
Forcing the words out before they could get caught in her throat, she said, “I found my father banging my little brother’s barely nineteen-year-old babysitter when I was fourteen, in my parents’ bedroom, and he had her bent over the foot of the bed. They were so lost in the moment, they didn’t even realize I’d come home early from a friend’s house and found them.”
“Fuck,” he grated, tensing beneath her.
Her breath left her lungs in a quiet, shuddering rush. “It sucked. My parents had always seemed so in love. I thought they were the perfect couple, you know? He was so…so devoted to her. But it turned out that it had all been a lie—at least on his part.
“I…I thought for hours about what to do. And I finally decided that as much as it was going to hurt, I had to do the right thing and tell my mom. So I did. She confronted my dad, and though he tried to bullshit his way out of it, she still filed for divorce. And then all the ugly details came out, and she learned that he’d been screwing around on her, right from the start.”
“Jesus,” he muttered, hugging her tight to his chest. “I’m so sorry, honey. That had to be tough as shit to go through at any age, much less when you were that young.”
“Yeah. It was,” she said softly, hoping he understood what she was trying to tell him. That she’d acted like such a bitch at times because she was inherently terrified of getting close to any man, and then having him trample her heart.
He rocked her a little, his deep voice gruff with concern. “And your mom—how’s she doing now?”
Watching her hand as it moved across his broad chest, and up, curving around his powerful shoulder, she said, “It was a long time ago, and she seems happy. She’s never gotten involved with anyone, but she has a successful career now as an interior designer, which was something she’d always wanted to do, but my father thought was stupid. So after everything fell apart, she went for her dream and has kicked ass at it. But she’s still, you know, alone. And I hate that for her.”