Watching Mine

“You did.” He nods once. “But you enjoyed me watching you with another man. You liked knowing that me seeing his hands on you had my dick harder than stone. You were turned on just as much as I was.

”

I don’t say anything for several seconds, giving serious thought to what he said. Did I really like Nathan watching as another man touched me? It doesn’t take much for me to form an answer in my head. Yes, I did. As much as I wanted Nathan’s hands on me in those moments, having his eyes so intent on me and the other guy was almost as good.

“Is that something you want?” I ask, my voice deeper than normal. “To see me with another man?”

As soon as the question leaves my lips, I know the answer. His eyes flare and the pulse at his temple throbs.

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

It comes out a growl and the sound sends a zap of pleasure between my legs. Butterflies form in my stomach, from both desire and nervousness. I would have never thought that something like that would be such a turn-on for me, but apparently it is.

Nathan’s hand runs up my back and he threads his fingers through my hair. Using the strands, he tips my head back and brings his face closer. “You like that idea, don’t you, baby?” he murmurs, dropping his face to my exposed neck. There’s a sting of pain from his teeth before his lips and tongue soothe it away. “You want to play with another man while I watch?”

I moan and tilt my hips up, needing some kind of friction to relieve the ache that’s building between my legs. My pussy finds the root of his cock, and with a hitch of breath, I rub myself unashamedly against him. His groan against my neck mixes with my own whimpers.

“Jesus Christ, woman,” he mutters. Grabbing my ass, he helps my movements by shoving his hips forward. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

I’m glad I do that to him, because he sure makes me go insane with lust too. I just wonder how far on the crazy bus I’m willing to go and if I’ll make it out unscathed at the end of the journey.

ChapterNine

Nathan

WITHOUT BOTHERING TO KNOCK, I open Abby and Colt’s front door and walk inside. Hearing laughter come from the kitchen, I let my feet take me that way. As soon as Tegan spots me walk into the room, he jumps from his spot on the counter and stalks over.

“I need you to sign this,” he says nasally, holding out a card. He sounds like shit.

I look from him to Willow, who rolls her eyes, to Colt, who’s shaking his bent head, then back to Tegan. “What is it?”

He turns his head and sneezes into the crook of his arm. Looking back at me, he sniffs and wrinkles his nose before answering. “It’s a get well soon card.”

I look down at the card and see a little puppy with a thermometer hanging from his mouth.

Looking back at Tegan, I already know the answer before I even ask it. “Who’s it for?”

“Me,” he deadpans.

Typical fucking Tegan.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” I turn from him and open the fridge to grab a beer. “Get that shit away from me.”

“What?” he whines, which sounds so much worse because of his stuffy nose. “No one else bought me a get well soon card, so I had to buy one for myself. You all might not care if I get better, but I sure as hell do. This shit sucks.”

“How old are you, Tegan?” Colt asks, amusement lacing his tone.

“Thirty. Why?”

“Thirty-year-old men don’t get ‘Get well soon’ cards, you moron. Unless you’re seriously ill. And even then, you don’t buy them for yourself.”

I turn away from the fridge just in time to see Tegan give Colt a squinty-eyed look.

“How do you know I’m not seriously ill? Maybe my cold will turn into the flu, then pneumonia. Maybe my lungs will fill with so much fluid I’ll drown in my sleep. Or what if my cold is a new strain that’s fatal with no cure. I bet you’ll be wishing you’d gotten me the damn card and wished me better when your ass is in the hospital dying beside me because I passed it on to you.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Colt mutters. “Where the hell do you get this shit?”

I twist off the cap of my beer, toss it in the trash, and point the bottle at Tegan. “You need to lay off the TV shows.”