He didn’t hesitate, pressing his mouth against mine in a possessive kiss that sealed the shaky truce we’d just arranged. I molded my body against his as he pressed me to the side of the pool. His hands cupped my face, and his tongue delved inside, taking as I opened myself to his onslaught. He tasted like whiskey and mint, and I became lost in his kiss. When he edged his hips forward, his hard cock teasing against my spread legs, I gasped.
With a mumbled curse, he wrapped his coat around me and carried me from the water.
“Where are we—”
“I’m going to do this the right way.” He pushed open the door to the house and carried me, dripping wet, through the hall and up the stairs. I ignored George’s pointed stare and clung to Nate, my heart racing as he hurried down the hall to his bedroom, then kick-slammed the door behind him.
Carrying me through to his bathroom, he set me on the warm tile and opened his glass shower, twisting the knobs.
I held the jacket around me and shivered from the cool air that circled my bare legs. I’d gotten naked and jumped in the pool to spite him, but now, when we were at the brink of doing something I’d never experienced, a nervousness shot through me.
He held his hand under the spray. “It’s warm now.”
I glanced at the rain shower. “Okay.”
He unbuttoned his shirt, inch after inch of toned muscle revealed as he freed himself from the wet fabric. Stripping down as if I wasn’t standing there gaping at him, he shucked his boxers, his hard cock pressing against his lower stomach.
“Eyes up here, Sabrina.” He smirked as I tore my gaze away from his body.
My face flamed. “Sorry. I just—I never. You know. I never, um…” I stopped talking, mainly because I wasn’t saying anything anyway.
He pulled me to him, then slid the soaked coat off my shoulders. It dropped to the gray tile floor with a watery splat.
Naked. Totally naked with Nate. Every nerve ending on my body hummed as he slid his hands down my upper arms.
“You’re beautiful.” He framed my waist with his palms, then ran his hands around to my ass and squeezed.
I squeaked and went onto my tiptoes, pressing against his body. His cock rested along my stomach.
“Scared?” He tilted my chin up, our eyes meeting in the closest thing to soul-to-soul contact possible.
A little. “No.”
“Right.” He smiled, slow and wicked, then pulled me into the warm shower.
The heat was soothing as he lathered me up with clinical attention to detail. I sighed as he soaped my breasts, his finger grazing my hard nipples again and again.
“Going to come for me already?” He dropped to his knees and turned me around, soaping my ass, his fingers touching all my most intimate places.
I gasped as he slid a finger along my clit. “Nate!”
“What? I was just being thorough.” He drew his soapy hands down my legs, then stood.
I trembled, the need building up inside me and dancing with my uncertainty. As I rinsed off, he soaped up and followed suit, then hustled me out of the shower and into a towel. His erection hadn’t waned the entire time we’d been together, and I gawked at it as he quickly dried off.
Drawing my eyes away, I started to fasten my towel around me.
Nate grabbed it and pulled it away. “Get on the bed.”
Goosebumps raced across my bare skin as he devoured me with his gaze. His eyes burned with an intensity that heightened my fear, but also my need for him. Gorgeous, smooth skin, except for scars here and there, lean muscle, and a face I could draw with my eyes closed—he was everything I wanted.
Turning, I walked into his bedroom, the cool wood floors a contrast to the heat of the bathroom. Was I supposed to be on top of the covers or under? Shyness crept up my spine, so I pulled back the navy comforter on the king size bed and slid between the sheets. The fabric was soft, but it felt like thorns against me—especially my nipples. My skin was on high alert, and I couldn’t look away from the bathroom door. I was rewarded after only a few seconds as Nate stalked out, his hungry eyes on me.
“Don’t hide from me.” He grabbed the sheets and yanked them back. If the sheets felt like thorns, the rush of cold air was daggers. “I want to see all of you.” He climbed between my knees and spread me.
I dug my nails into the mattress as his eyes darkened and traced every line and curve of my body. Starting at my throat, he ran his hands across my collarbones, down my chest, along my quivering stomach and to my hips.
“Don’t be afraid.” He bent his dark head to my stomach and dropped light kisses there.