Southern Bombshell (North Carolina Highlands 5)

“You’ve been turning malt a lot lately,” I murmur. “Something on your mind?”

He scoffs, his breath sending a lock of my hair flying. “A few things, yeah.”

“Come home with me,” I whisper. “We’ll smoke a bowl and then I’ll pour you a whiskey, and we can pretend this is settled.”

My pulse pounds as I wait for him to answer. I have no business putting myself out there this way. It could very well end the way it did the first time around—Nate still hasn’t shared whatever secret it was that tore us apart two years ago. Likely because it’s a secret he continues to grapple with.

He leans in to kiss me, an achingly tender caress I feel all the way to my toes.

This man’s kiss has ruined me for all other kisses. I’m screwed in the most delicious way possible.

“I can’t promise you anything, baby,” he says in a hoarse growl.

Baby. I’ve missed him calling me that.

I open my eyes, and he does too. The gold flecks in his irises are alive with feeling. “I know. I’m just asking for your company. That’s it.”

“I promised your brother I’d stay away from Blue Mountain.”

“I’ll deal with Beau,” I say. “You can drive with me in Rhett’s car up to the Farm. No one will know you’re with me.”

The feeling in his eyes morphs to something like hurt. “We’re good at sneaking around, aren’t we?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—if we could, this time I would one-hundred-percent—”

He kisses me again, harder this time. “It’s all right. I get it—keeping this under wraps right now makes a hell of a lot of sense. It just . . .”

I search his eyes. “Feels like a repeat of what wasn’t so great about our relationship the first time around. I understand.”

“You do.” His gaze intensifies. “I know you do.”

“People can change,” I say softly.

He tucks my hair behind my ear. “Some do.”

My chest tightens, but I manage a grin. “Since you don’t care to elaborate on that ominous statement—”

“Mystery only adds to my sex appeal.”

I laugh. “I beg to differ, Heathcliff. Tonight, though, I’ll give you a pass. If only because I want to do what we just did in the warmth and comfort of my bed.” I meet his eyes. “Let me fuck with you, Nathaniel.”

His gaze goes feral, his nostrils flaring as he stares me down. He’s missed being called that.

“You got me by the dick here,” he says at last. He looks down at our joined hands. “Literally.”

I give him a gentle stroke. “I’m not gonna let go until you say yes.”

“Yes. But first, let me call Silas so he can grab Lucy from my house.”

I turn on the lights in my kitchen while Nate sets his wallet and phone on the counter. He points at the foil-wrapped loaf on my island.

“Don’t tell me that’s your mom’s banana bread.”

I grin. “It is. It’s almost like she knew we’d be getting high tonight.”

“I haven’t gotten stoned in a while.” He pats his stomach. “But I’d bet my bottom dollar I still get the munchies.”

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

“I’m down. But first, I need to shower, stat.”

The image materializes inside my head. Nate naked in my shower, steam billowing around him as he soaps up his arms, his thick chest, water sluicing down the length of his powerful body as his hands move lower and lower. He takes his dick in his left hand, slicking it with soap in a twisting upward motion, flexing the muscles in his forearms.

A pulse of need blooms between my legs. Swallowing, I ask, “Care for company?”

“I’d love nothing more. But I’m not fucking you for the first time in two years in the shower.”

“We don’t have to fuck.”

He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes in this playful way that’s so hot my knees liquefy. “Stop pretending you wouldn’t beg me to put myself inside you, Milly. I just had my hands all over you. In you. I know how hot you are, and I know what you want.”

The need between my legs pulses harder, pressure building in my clit. My thighs automatically squeeze together, seeking relief. At the same time, butterflies take flight inside my torso. He still knows me.

He hasn’t forgotten what I like. Does that mean something?

Or does Nate just have a really good memory?

“I’d tell you to fuck off for being so presumptuous, but—”

“I’m not wrong.” His eyes blaze, and I put a hand on the countertop to keep from falling over. “I also know waiting makes your orgasms better. So you’ll wait.” He rounds the island and tilts his head to press a kiss to the underside of my jaw, a quick scrape of lips and scruff. I shiver. “I’ll be quick.”

“You’d better,” I breathe.

I watch him disappear into my bedroom across the hall. His butt looks cute in those jeans.