Defender (Seattle Sharks 9)

“Ideally…another month.” That would hopefully give her brain the time it needed to heal completely.

I glanced up at Nathan, noting the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed with a hard swallow.

“I’m glad we’re working together,” he said, his voice so, so quiet. “Have I ever told you that?”

I pressed my lips together and nodded.

“Hungry.” Ally bounded up to us, not a care in the world. She was so positive about her situation, with no doubt in her mind she’d heal and return to who she’d always been. She pointed toward the house, a question in her eyes.

“Sure. You go on ahead,” I said. “We’ll catch up.”

She hugged me again and then ran off. I watched her until she’d made it inside the house.

“This…” Nathan said. “What you’re doing. It’s so important.”

“It is.”

“It means a lot to me,” he said, glancing at where Ally had run off. “And now I know why it’s so important to you.” A small grin teased his lips. “I always knew you had this unstoppable passion for finishing a project, but I hadn’t realized this was personal for you, too.” He glanced down at me. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

I eyed our intertwined hands, breathed in his scent, and let his words sink into my soul.

“I trust you,” I said, shifting so my body faced his, and looked up at him. “And it means everything to me that you’ve trusted me, Nathan. All you’ve done to help, it’s above and beyond.”

“There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you, butterfly.”

I slid my free hand along his broad chest and up, unable to deny the warmth pulsing in the center of my chest. This, what we were talking about, what we were sharing at this moment, it went beyond the hunger I had for him. Beyond the craving for his taste. It was deeper. And even though it scared the shit out of me, I laid my palm against his cheek and reached up on my tiptoes.

He met me halfway, knowing what I wanted, what I needed, and didn’t hesitate to give it to me.

His lips brushed mine, soft and gentle. The delicate way he tasted me reflected the moment—the ache in his heart from his past, the sliver of pain in mine from my present.

I pressed harder, flicking my tongue against his. I wished I could change his past. I wish I would’ve been working on this new protection helmet years ago. But even then, it wouldn’t have helped his brother. I couldn’t go that far back. But I would, if I could.

Nathan snaked his arms around my hips, easily lifting me to his level.

We didn’t break contact.

Every piece of my body pressed to his, our lips and tongues tangling, teasing.

All at once the breath in my lungs seemed too much and not enough.

I locked my ankles around his hips, and he adjusted to hold me to him, those incredible arm muscles flexing beneath me as I continued to taste him—pure Nathan. The flavor set my nerves on fire, a heat pooling between my thighs. The hunger I’d had for him, the line we’d been treading these past weeks, it was transforming into something stronger, more solid.

“Nathan,” I moaned between his kiss, digging my fingers into the hair at the base of his neck.

“Goddamn,” he said, gently clutching my ass as he carefully walked backward until the backs of his knees hit the wooden chair behind him. He sank into it, keeping me positioned on top of him.

I rocked against him and shuddered at the hard length that pressed against my center.

“Why are we always wearing…clothes?” I hissed against his lips, rolling my hips with each word I spoke.

“Goddamn,” he said, again, his hands roaming over my hips to the small of my back. “Harper.”

My name sounded like a growl and a demand, and it did things to my body. Delightfully, wicked things that had me contemplating shedding my clothes right here next to my mother’s koi pond.

“Nathan,” I said, sighing, flicking my tongue along the edges of his teeth. Something built inside me, a fierce, aching need that went beyond a simple release. The connection between us was like a white-hot band of energy, pulsing and thriving and weaving together.

“I—”

“Harper?” Anne called from toward the front of the house, and whatever I’d been about to say or admit or beg for died in my throat.

“Yeah?” I called back, thankful she couldn’t see beyond the garden.

“Dinner!”

“Coming!” I hollered back, slumping against Nathan until our foreheads touched.

He smirked up at me, both of us catching our breath.

“To be continued,” he said before planting a sweet, too-chaste kiss on my lips. He lifted me effortlessly from the chair and gently set me on my feet, but kept hold of my hand as we walked back toward the house.

To be continued. His words echoed in my head with the beat of my heart, over and over again.