Before Jamaica Lane (On Dublin Street 3)

I got a leg cramp during hot sex.

That was not cool. That was not sexy.

Blushing furiously, I slapped my hands over my face. ‘Oh, God.’

Nate laughed harder.

I was so embarrassed that I was on the verge of tears. I sat up, ducked my head, and pushed him off me.

‘Liv.’ No longer laughing, Nate grabbed for me, but I pushed harder, trying to crawl past him. ‘Olivia.’

‘Get. Off.’ I shoved an elbow in his stomach, but that just made him fight harder. And he was stronger than me. In a tangle of shoving limbs I ended up flat on my stomach, the left side of my face pressed into the couch and my hands held captive above my head.

Nate kissed my cheek. ‘Will you calm down, please?’

‘I’m humiliated,’ I whispered, closing my eyes.

I felt Nate’s chest on my back as he rested his chin on my shoulder, his lips close to mine. ‘Why would you be humiliated? Fuck, Liv, it’s just me.’

I shrugged, not very successfully, against his weight. ‘I took leg cramp. Interrupting sexy time.’

‘Babe’ – humor entered his voice – ‘please don’t make me laugh, because I’m sensing laughter is not good right now.’

I glared at his mouth. ‘You’d be right.’

‘It was funny, though.’ He kissed my cheek again. ‘And not funny in the way that you should be humiliated. Just funny. The Liv I know can laugh at herself.’

I pushed my face into the cushion as if it would somehow hide me. ‘I guess I’m just still not confident about this stuff.’

‘What? You think a bit of leg cramp will turn me off you?’

I half shrugged again.

Nate’s weight lifted from my back, but as he sat up his hands gripped my hips. He jerked my body up so I had to bend my knees to steady myself. I rested on my elbows, the breath whooshing out of me as I stared at him over my shoulder. ‘What are you doing?’

He caressed my ample bottom, his eyes filled with a dark intensity as his knees nudged my knees apart. Without a word he slid inside me.

I gasped, watching as he closed his eyes as if savoring the feel of me. He pulled back and this time he slammed into me. I bit out a cry, watching as his eyes opened, his grip practically bruising on my hips. Through clenched teeth, he asked, ‘Does this feel like I don’t want you?’

I reared against him, silently begging for more. ‘No.’ I shook my head, and then arched back as he thrust into me. Just like that, Nate began to screw the mortification right out of me.

My head fell forward, my hair spilling across the couch, my cries mingling with Nate’s grunts as he rocked into me with increasing desperation. When his movements suddenly slowed, thus delaying my encroaching orgasm, I glanced over my shoulder at him through the strands of my wild hair. ‘Why?’ I moaned.

‘I want to feel you,’ he responded, his voice rough as his hand slid up the damp skin of my stomach. The pressure of his hold forced me back against his chest, changing the angle of him inside me.

‘Nate.’ I sighed in pleasure, my head resting against his shoulder.

He cupped my breast lovingly in his right hand while his other tickled back down my stomach. My hips jerked in reaction to the press of his fingers against my clit. As he worked me with his fingers, he began to work me again with his cock.

I moved against him, finding rhythm to his sensuous torture, sliding up and down on his dick, feeling out of my mind with sensation. I wrapped my arm behind me, my fingers biting into the back of his shoulder as I held on to him for dear life.

‘This is me and you,’ he panted, driving faster and harder into me. ‘Don’t ever run. Not from me.’

‘Okay.’ I shook my head against his shoulder. ‘Okay.’

He stilled his fingers on my clit. ‘Promise me.’

‘Nate, don’t stop, don’t stop,’ I whispered hurriedly. ‘Please, I’m so close. I’m so close.’

He rocked up into me and stilled.

‘Nate!’ I keened, my hands dropping to his hips, gripping him behind me. ‘Please!’

‘Promise me. Tell me you won’t run.’ He bit my ear, the nip almost painful. ‘Tell me you won’t run from me ever. And then beg me to f**k you.’

My brain was too busy firing neurons for me to even question it. ‘I won’t ever run from you,’ I gasped, urging my ass down on his lap. ‘Now please, please f**k me. Make me come.’

Suddenly I was on my stomach, Nate’s chest to my back, his animalistic grunts and growls filling my ears as he thrust into me over and over, pounding me into the couch, and pounding me toward an orgasm that blew my head off.

My scream of release filled the apartment, muffled only somewhat by Nate’s own hoarse shout as he came at the first clench of my climax.

17

The following Saturday I huddled under an umbrella with Jo as we waited for Ellie and Joss to step out of the house on Scotland Street. The estate agent, Ryan, an ex-colleague of Jo’s from when she’d worked at Braden’s estate agency, Carmichael & Co., began talking to Ellie as Jo threaded her arm through mine.

Adam and Ellie had found a place they liked. The spacious Georgian flat had stripped wood floors, high ceilings, and period details. Any work that needed done was merely cosmetic. Ellie was in love, Adam really liked it, and Els wanted our opinion.

It was a resounding ‘yes’ from us girls.

Once Ryan left, Ellie grinned at us excitedly. ‘I’m so glad you guys like it. I really appreciate you coming out to see it.’ She started down the stairs and Joss rushed to get under her umbrella with her as we followed. ‘Especially you, Liv.’ She smiled curiously over her shoulder. ‘You’ve been so busy lately.’