Fight with Me (With Me in Seattle 2)

Holy Fuck.

“Nate, you’ve spent too much money on me today already.”

“Stop.” He rests his fingers over my mouth.  “I’ve been waiting a long time to give you things, Julianne.  Don’t rain on my parade.”

Oh, he’s just so sweet.

I open the lid on the box and nestled inside are princess cut diamond earrings.  They sparkle brilliantly, reflecting the light from the chandelier, and simply take my breath away.  They are easily a carat each.

And way too expensive.

I shouldn’t accept them.

But when I look up into his gray eyes, I see apprehension and maybe a little fear, and I know I can’t tell him no.

“Thank you,” I whisper, overcome.  Tears begin to run unchecked down my cheeks and I don’t bother to try to stop them.

“Hey, what’s wrong, baby?”  He brushes my tears away with his thumbs.

“I’m just…”  I swallow and turn my tear-filled eyes to his, and I know I have fallen in love with him.  Not because of his expensive gifts, but because of how gentle and generous and kind he is, not to mention sexy as sin and smarter than any man has a right to be.

But it’s too soon to tell him.

“I’m just thankful, and maybe a little overwhelmed by your generosity.”

He kisses my cheek, tucks me under his chin and I curl up on his lap, enjoying the feel of his strong arms around me, holding me to him.

“Get used to it, baby.”

Chapter Ten

“Oh!”  I sit up and kiss Nate quickly on the mouth and jump off his lap.  “I have something else to show you.  Wait here.”

I can hear Nate’s chuckle as I run up the stairs back to my bedroom, pulling off my clothes along the way.  I strip out of my black skirt, thankful that I wore my black thigh-high stockings today, my bra and shirt and grab my shiny new black leather jacket.  I push my feet into my new black Jimmy Choo stilettos and take a look in the mirror.  Hmm… hair’s not right.

In the bathroom I brush my hair vigorously, giving it a wild look, and touch up my makeup, adding red lipstick.

I look like a hot rocker biker chick.  It’s a new look for me, and I am totally working it.

I walk downstairs, in my heels, black stockings and unzipped black jacket, and find Nate just finishing with the dishes.  His back is to me; he’s taken off his suit jacket, rolled the sleeves of his white shirt – yum, that tattoo – and his ass just looks so fantastic in those black slacks.

“Need any help?” I ask, getting his attention and am not disappointed by the drop of his jaw when he turns around and looks at me.  His eyes go wide and dilate, and I smile smugly, my hands on my hips.

“I see you got a leather jacket,” he murmurs as he slowly saunters toward me.

“I had orders.”  I shrug.  “I’m good at taking direction.”

“So you are.”  He stops about three feet away from me and rakes those hot gray eyes over my body, from my Choo-clad feet to the top of my blonde head, then looks me in the eyes and takes a deep, deep breath.  “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

I can’t speak.  I can’t move.  I can just gaze back into those lust-filled eyes, and the blood rushes south, pooling between my thighs.  I bite my lower lip and reach out, bunching his shirt in my fist, my eyes still on his and jerk him forward so his chest is just an inch from mine.  His hands are still hanging at his sides, balled into fists, our lips are inches apart, and I can’t stop gazing into his eyes.

“Nate,” I whisper.

“Yes, baby,” he whispers back.

“If you don’t touch me, like thirty seconds ago, I’m not responsible for my actions.”

His lips curve up into a half smile and he exhales, his eyes moving down to my lips, then back to my own.  His fingers lightly brush down my cheek, the pad of his thumb across my lower lip, and I bite that pad, gripping his wrist in my hand, and then gently suck it, rolling my tongue around it.  His eyes close and teeth clench, and the next thing I know he’s kissing me like crazy and pushing me back into the living room.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking hot.” His face is against my neck, licking and biting, just under my ear and it sends the most delicious tingles down my back.  He parts the front of my jacket, exposing my breasts and kneads one, brushing his thumb back and forth over my nipple, making it pucker and my back bow.

Nate lays me down on the couch and covers my body with his, hitches my right leg around his hip and grinds his still-covered erection against my center.

“Oh God.”  My hands dive into his hair and I hold him against me, grinding against him, feeling his lips and teeth on my neck and it’s pure bliss.  “Nate.”

“Yes, baby.”  He rocks a little harder against me and kisses me tenderly, and I fucking come apart beneath him, writhing and pushing against him.

Holy shit.

Before I can recover, Nate has unzipped his pants and I feel the tip of his glorious cock, and those magnificent metal balls, at my opening, and he slams into me, burying himself inside me.

“Argh!” I cry out, lifting my hips against him.

He stills and lifts his head, his molten gray eyes boring into mine.  “Did I hurt you?”

“No, God no, don’t stop.”

He growls and pulls out, almost all the way, then slams in again, over and over.  I feel my body tightening, and I try to hold it back, wanting this to last.

“You’re so goddamn tight,” he growls, his jaw clenched shut.

It feels so fucking good.

“Let go, baby.”

“Not yet,” I whisper back.

He bites my earlobe and starts to slam into me even harder, gripping my ass in one hand and pulling me tighter against him.

“Yes, now.  Do it, babe.”

And I can’t stop.  The orgasm pushes through me with such intensity I can’t even feel my teeth.  I grip his ass in my hands, and he cries out as he slams into me one last time and I feel him erupt inside me.

“Holy hell, happy birthday to me,” I murmur and feel him grin against my neck.

He rears back and pulls out of me, stands up and pulls me up into his arms, cradling me against his chest and carries me up the stairs.

“Where are we going?” I ask as I run my fingers through his hair.

“I’m not done yet.  We’re going to bed.”

Holy shit.