Broken Hill Hurt (Broken Hill High 3)

“So, you want to skip over the whole make-up sex thing?”

“Hell no,” he says, settling back onto the bench as a wicked grin crosses his lips. He leans back against the wall of the boat shed and runs his fingers down my side, bringing a shiver over my skin just like he knew it would. “But I think I’d prefer kinky, dirty sex.”

“In a boat shed?” I gasp as I grind down onto him to feel him hardening beneath me.

“Why the hell not?” he grins.

“What if someone walks in?”

“Then they can join in,” he says. “We can make it a party.”

“No,” I laugh as he slips his hand under the back of my shirt and unhooks my bra. “I don’t share my toys.”

“Really? You wouldn’t have a threesome?”

“Depends,” I say as I shimmy his shirt up between us. “Two girls or two guys?”

He helps me pull his shirt over his head and my eyes instantly drop to his sculptured chest. “Two girls, of course,” he says.

“What?” I gasp in disbelief. “So, you can disappoint two girls at the same time?”

“Hey, now,” he says, grabbing my ass and lifting us both up off the bench. He turns around and lays me down on the bench before coming down on top of me with a smug grin. “You think I’m capable of disappointing a woman during sex?”

I smile up at him and go to tell him that it’s definitely possible, but we both know I’d be lying. His lips come down on mine and he swallows my retort as my body arches up into him.

His hand travels up my waist and pushes my shirt up with it making me desperate to feel his skin against mine. I pull the shirt up over my head and slide my unhooked bra off my arms. Nate looks down at my body with pure desire before diving in. He sucks my nipple into his mouth and a gasp sails out of mine.

Wow. This is like cloud nine.

My fingers twine through his hair as I find myself at a loss. I need his lips on mine then on my neck, but I don’t want his tongue to stop flicking over my nipple. That need only gets stronger as his hand travels down my stomach and cups me between my legs, releasing only a fraction of built up tension.

I need more. So much more.

I reach for his belt and get it undone in seconds when Nate pulls back and looks down at me with a strange confusion. “What’s that?” he says.

“Huh?” I grunt as he flies off me. “Come back.”

“I smell smoke,” he tells me, looking around the dark boat shed.

I smell the air but get nothing. “I think you’re imagining things,” I laugh as my body truly starts to miss his touch. “Now, get back over here before I have to do it myself.”

“No, seriously,” he says, walking across to the opposite side of the boat shed and looking out the window. I sit up on the bench and watch him. He actually seems really concerned about this.

A loud noise sounds at the door of the boat shed and my head whips around. I don’t see or hear anything but someone or something is definitely out there. My hands slap across my boobs and I dive for my shirt, desperate to cover myself up. “Shit,” I curse as Nate flies across the small room to the door.

He pushes on it but it doesn’t budge. “Fuck. It’s locked.” He slams his body against it, trying to free us but nothing works. I look up at him with wide, panicked eyes. “Get dressed,” he tells me as he does up his belt buckle.

“What are we going to do?” I question as he reaches for his shirt. He shrugs his shoulders but I don’t ask again as I recognize the look in his eyes. He’s deep in thought and I wonder what he’s thinking. Whether he’s looking for a way out or trying to figure out who the hell locked us in here.

Nate goes back to the door as I work on hooking my bra behind my back. I look up out the window and a strange orange glow stares back at me from the outside. “Oh, fuck,” I gasp. Nate was right. “There’s a fire.”

“What?” he demands spinning around with a speed that’s not humanly possible. “Fuck,” he curses as he takes it all in. He looks around the small boat shed for some way out which is when he points out the cans of gas in the corner.

“Shit.” I hurry to the opposite window and try to get it open as Nate turns back to the door and slams himself into it, over and over again.

“Fuck, it’s not budging,” he growls.

“Either is the window,” I tell him before turning around and searching out something that could break the stupid thing.