Fight with Me (With Me in Seattle 2) - Page 50

“Seriously, Nate, I can walk.”

“You don’t have any shoes.”

He’s not even breathing hard with the effort.

Holy fuck.

“What about the food and the fire?” I ask.

“The catering company is coming back in a few hours to clean up.”

“Oh.”

He sets me down at the top of the stairs and kisses my cheek, takes his glass and the bottle out of my hands and leads me inside and up the stairs to the master suite. We walk into the bathroom, and Nate turns on the water to fill the tub, and lights some candles throughout the spacious room, then turns off the lights so the space is bathed in soft candles.

He pulls a remote out of his back pocket – I didn’t know he had that! – and turns on the sound system, and Jason Mraz’s song I Won’t Give Up is again coming through the speakers.

“Did you do that on purpose?” I ask.

“No, it’s just a coincidence,” he murmurs.

He lowers our glasses and the champagne to the floor next to the tub, and when everything is ready, he turns back to me, slowly walks toward me, in time with the song.  Nate starts to sing along, softly, “I won’t give up on us, even if the skies get rough, I’ve given you all my love, I’m still looking up…”

He pulls me against him, one arm wrapped around the small of my back, and takes my hand in his, and begins to sway with the music, dancing me across the spacious, beautiful bathroom in the candlelight, while the sky explodes in lightning outside.  He lowers his face next to mine, and just barely touches me with his cheek, turns his face, and brushes my cheek with his nose, sending shivers down my spine and out my arms and legs.

“I won’t give up on us,” he whispers in my ear and I feel tears prick my eyes again. Where did I find this beautiful man? And how did I resist him for so long?

When the song is finished, Sade begins to croon about this not being an ordinary love, and Nate pulls back, his eyes alive with love, and he gently brushes my hair off my face. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, Nate.”

***

The water is warm and smells like lavender.  Nate is sitting against the end of the tub with me between his legs, resting on his chest.

The sky outside is dancing in light and changing black clouds, reflecting on the choppy water below.  I love that the tub sits in a glass alcove so we can watch the show.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” I ask.  Nate squirts my shower gel in his hands and rubs them together until he’s happy with the lather.

“Sit forward a bit.” I lean forward and he starts to rub my back and shoulders, massaging my muscles, and I melt into him.

“Holy Moses, ace, you’re good with your hands.”

He chuckles behind me and continues the delicious massage.

“I’ve never had a dancing lesson.  I guess martial arts taught me rhythm.”  His hands slip below the water line and he rubs my lower back in slow, relaxing circles.

“Mmm… I love the way you move,” I murmur.

“You do?” I hear the smile in his voice.

“Mmm hmm… I could watch you move all day.” He kisses my neck and pulls me back against him again, his hands circling up to my breasts.

“I love your breasts,” he whispers.

“I thought about enhancing them when I was young and posing for the magazine, but now I’m glad I didn’t.”

“You don’t need to enhance them, baby. They’re perfect as they are.” He brushes his thumbs across my nipples, making them pucker, and I brace my hands on his thighs and arch my back, pushing my breasts in his hands.

His left hand slips down my torso, between my legs, and he sweeps his finger lightly over my clit.

“God, babe.”

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he whispers against my ear and tugs the lobe between his teeth.  I can feel his erection against my back, his hands are wreaking havoc on my sensitive skin, and the water is warm and fragrant.  Trees sway in the wind outside, and rain is beating on the windows now, reflecting the lightning that’s shooting across the stormy sky.

I turn in Nate’s arms and straddle his hips.  I kiss him, gently at first, my hands in his hair, and then deepen the sweet kiss, tangling our tongues.  His hands lift my ass and he pulls back, his eyes on mine, his mouth open as he pants.

“I need to be inside you, baby.”

I reach between us and wrap my hand around his cock, pull up and down once, then guide the tip to my folds and lower myself onto him.

“Fuck, you’re so small,” he growls.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” I respond and smile, my forehead resting on his.  He grins wolfishly and begins raising and lowering me over him steadily, ignoring the water splashing over the side, and we are in a whirlpool of lust.  I can’t get enough of him. I’m squeezing around his length, his piercing is brushing along that most sensitive spot, and I feel the familiar tightening of my muscles around him.

“I’m going to come,” I whisper.

He grips my hips and pulls me against him, grinding into me, his feral gray eyes on mine, and growls, “Let go.”

And I do.

Chapter Twenty Four

I wake early, before Nate for a change.  We are naked, tangled in soft white sheets.  Nate is on his back, one hand thrown over his head, covered from the waist down, and I brace my head on my elbow, admiring the view of his amazing tattoos, long hair, and dark chin stubble. His arms, chest and stomach are deliciously toned, even in sleep.

Fuck, he’s a feast for the eyes.

I sit up and stretch, glancing outside.  The storm has passed, leaving the beach just a little messy with debris.  I get up to answer nature’s call, throw on some capris jeans and a sweatshirt, pull my hair up in a knot, grab my flip flops and head down to the water.

I should let Nate know that I’m going out, but he’s so sleepy, I decide to leave him be and make him breakfast when I get back.

When I get to the gazebo, I’m amazed to find that the caterer did indeed come back and clean up.  The space has been returned to its original state.  Amazing, I didn’t even hear them.

I reach the bottom of the stairs and kick off my flip flops, wiggling my toes in the sand, and take a deep, deep breath.  The air is salty and just a bit musty from the storm.  Seagulls are flying around, scouring the sand for food, and the water is crashing on the shore in white clouds, then pushing out onto the sand in sheets of wet glass.

Tags: Kristen Proby With Me in Seattle Romance
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