Broken Compass

“Girl…” he whispers, and I moan when his fingers drift between my legs. “I wanna see you. Take off your dress.”

West said that to me, too. He wanted to see me. But Nate… Nate never said anything like this. Never kissed me. Never touched me.

I’m getting whiplash from his mood changes, but I want him to want me. I want him to see me, and touch me.

I’ve always wanted Nate.

So I get up from the bed and lower the straps of my dress and lower the zipper on the side, then push it down until it pools around my ankles.

I don’t know who this shameless, self-confident girl is, the girl who’s standing in the middle of the room only dressed in her undies, as Nate watches.

He leans back, eyes half-closing, and spreads his legs. The bulge in the soft denim is impressive, and it’s more than a bulge. I can actually see the outline of his hard cock, trapped sideways in the fabric. His chest rises and falls, and he lifts his T-shirt a little, revealing the dark trail leading into his pants. His teeth catch in his bottom lip, and he seems caught up in his arousal.

I’m aroused, too, my breasts achy and heavy, my pulse thrumming between my thighs. I lick my lips and take a steadying breath, but still hesitate before I ask, “What do you want, Nate?”

Because right now I’d do anything for him. And I’d love it.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Nate

“Turn around,” I whisper, leaning back, and her gaze falls to the bulge between my legs. “Slowly.”

“What?”

“Turn around. Let me see you.”

I’m not sure she’ll obey, but she bites her bottom lip and shifts her weight, and then she turns, her eyes uncertain when she faces me again.

Damn this girl. I’ve imagined how she looked underneath her clothes for so long, I can hardly fucking believe she’s right here, in my room, in her lacy, pale blue bra and panties, cotton but for a hint of lace, hugging those awesome curves so perfectly.

I put a hand between my legs, cupping my hard-on. “Fuck.”

Holy shit, I’m about to blow my load. I dunno if it’s the epically bad dream I’ve had, a mixture of things that happened to me and other sick stuff I sure hope are not memories, and the low-level need that’s been simmering under my skin for so long, but I’m about to burst.

“You’ve never…” She shakes her head, her red curls escaping from the pink hair tie, framing her face. “I wasn’t sure you liked me that way.”

How to explain that I both want her and dread having her near? That where I first flirted shamelessly with her now I avoid her so I won’t have to test myself, see how deep the corruption, the rot goes? What will send me fleeing?

Easier to avoid that conversation.

“See for yourself.” My hips roll up, pushing my cock into my palm through the rough fabric, all of tonight’s tension and fear making me so hard I ache. “How about now?”

I don’t try to hide it. I want her to see the effect she has on me. I can’t stand how much I fucking want her.

Her gaze lifts to my face, and she meets my eyes. Heat coils in the air between us like smoke. “Nate…”

“Come here.” I grab her hand, pull her on top of me, crush our mouths together. It’s brutal, and she gasps, her lips parting, so I thrust my tongue between them.

Sweet. Her weight is pressing on my hard-on, and I want. I fucking want more. Want her more than ever.

I have no clue what’s come over me tonight. I’m just out of fucks. I’ll take my chances, push myself, see how far I get.

Damn, if I freak out, it’ll still be worth kissing her, touching her.

My hands are under her legs, under her round ass, grabbing greedily, hauling her closer until we’re pressed together tight, and all the while we’re kissing, and kissing, her taste intoxicating like sweet wine. Her hands are in my hair, tugging, her tits are crushed to my chest, her nipples hard. I feel them even through our clothes, and I need that bra off so I can see them, taste them.

Only… I’m cold. Why am I cold? I wrench my mouth from hers as a shadow rolls around me, a misty dark cloud that latches on to my skin and slips into my flesh.