Fight with Me (With Me in Seattle 2)

I perch one foot on a bench built into the tile and slide my hand between my legs, pushing my fingers between my folds, and imagine that it’s Nate’s fingers making me crazy.  My other hand plucks at a nipple and suddenly Nate is behind me, his body pressed to mine, his arms wrapped around me and I jump, startled.  I was so wrapped up in my little fantasy I didn’t hear him join me.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers in my ear.  “Keep touching yourself.”

I shake my head and lean back against his chest, suddenly shy.  He nibbles my neck and grabs my hand in his, guiding it back down between my legs.

“Want me to help?”

“Yes,” I sigh and arch my back as he pushes my fingers through my folds again, rubbing back and forth and up over my clit, then back down to my labia.

“Oh, God,” I moan.  It feels so good, and just a little naughty.  I try to pull my hand away to let him continue on his own, but he grabs it again in a firm hold.

“You don’t know what it does to me to see you pleasure yourself, Julianne.”  His words are soft, hypnotizing and so sexy, and I can feel his hard-on against my ass.  Our hands continue their assault, and he presses my palm against my clit and bites that spot on my neck, just behind my ear, and I feel my body start to shudder.  I come against our hands, rocking and pushing against them, crying out his name.

Nate spins me around and pins me against the cold tile wall, leaning his torso against me, his cock pressed to my belly, and his lips are on mine, kissing me voraciously.  I run my hands over his sides to his back and down to cup his very fine, very firm ass in my hands and squeeze.

“I need to be inside you,” he growls and cups my ass to lift me.  “Wrap your legs around me, baby.”  I do and he eases himself inside me, slowly, his forehead leaning against mine, gray eyes burning with lust and need.  I tangle his wet hair in my fingers and hold on as he begins to ease himself in and out of me, faster and faster, our breathing ragged and harsh.  His eyes never leave mine as he pushes and pulls harder, faster, and I feel my legs clench tighter around him, another orgasm moving though me.

“Come on, baby, give it to me,” he whispers against my lips, and his words are my undoing.

“Oh, God, Nate!”  I pulsate around him, milking his cock and those amazing silver balls with my pussy and he bites his lower lip, then clenches his teeth as I feel him fall over the edge, his hips grinding into mine, hands gripping my ass so tightly it must be bruising me, as he comes inside me.

He holds me there, against the wall, for a long minute, both of us gasping for air, gazing at each other.  I rhythmically run my fingers through his hair and he places his lips gently on mine, brushing back and forth, kissing me sweetly.

“You are so sweet,” he murmurs.  “You’re mine, do you understand?  No matter what happens.  You. Are. Mine.”  His eyes and voice are raw with emotion, and I feel tears prick the sides of my eyes.

“Yes,” I whisper.  “I’m yours, Nate.”  Where is this coming from?

He shudders one more time and slips out of me, gently lowering me back to my feet.  He cups my face in his hands and runs his nose down along mine before kissing me chastely and pulling away, shutting off the water, and leading me out of the cavernous shower to dry off.

“What in God’s name is this music?” he asks with a scowl.  Fergie is singing Glamorous.

“Hey, I love this song.”  I smack his ass as I walk past him to his bedroom to root through my suitcase for clothes.

“Your taste in music sucks, baby.”  He pulls a black t-shirt over his head, and then steps into a pair of old worn blue jeans.  No underwear.

“I like listening to happy music while I cook,” I explain calmly.

“Rock is happy.” He plants his hands on his hips and watches me pull on my jeans and a blue tunic top.

“So is this.”  I shrug and walk past him into the bathroom to blow my hair dry and secure it back in a ponytail.

“Why are you watching me?” I ask.

“I like watching you.” He responds, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you done working?” I ask.

“No, I have a few more calls to make.”

“Do you need any help?”  I feel guilty.  I’m sure there’s something I can do to help.  He’s my boss, for Pete’s sake.

“No, I’ve got it.  I’ll have some things for you at the office in the morning.”

“Okay.”  Happy with my hair, I turn and lean my bottom against the vanity and gaze at him.  “Is this getting weird for you?”

He frowns, perplexed.  “Is what getting weird?”

“Us, working together, practically living together.”  Fuck.  Now he’s going to think I want to live with him.  “I mean, we don’t really live together, but we’re together all the time.”

“Work isn’t weird for me.  We only see each other a few times throughout the day.”  He pushes away from the door and walks to me, leaning his hands on the vanity at my hips, bringing his eyes level with mine.  “I want to be with you as much as possible outside of work.  This is when we’re us, with no pretenses.  Is it weird for you?”

“I don’t know,” I shrug and lower my gaze to his chest, but he captures my chin in his fingers and makes me meet his stare.

“Look at me, and be honest.  I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Julianne.  Not about us.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.  I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.  There are moments at work that are weird.  I won’t deny that.”  I run my hands up his strong arms and over his shoulders to rest them on his muscular chest.  “You’re my boss.  If you decide to end this, you could also end my career.  It’s a sticky place to be for me.”

He frowns again, his eyes so serious.  “I know you have to trust me, Julianne.  I have to trust you too.  It works both ways, you know.”

That hadn’t occurred to me.  If I chose to end this, or if I was a bitter, scorned woman, I could ruin his career in a heartbeat.  Not that I would ever do that.  It’s not my style.

The trust is on both sides, equally.

I stroke his cheek with my fingertips and he closes his eyes briefly, then pins me again with those beautiful gray eyes.