Slip of the Tongue (45 page)

I turn in his arms and place my hands on his cheeks. He draws his eyebrows together, two wrinkles deepening between them, as if he’s concerned about what I’ll say.

“Let’s make a baby, Nathan.”

His expression eases with relief. He takes my hand and trails kisses from the inside of my palm up my forearm. With his big, enveloping arms, he hoists me by my waist. I shriek with surprise when my bare ass hits the cold countertop. Flour and sugar, leftover from my baking, bite into my skin. From this position, I get to watch his dance, the feverish way he rips open his fly and hops out of his pants and underwear. He reaches behind him to yank his t-shirt over his head.

And then, finally, but also swiftly, he’s sandwiched between my knees. He cups the base of my head and kisses his way up my neck until his mouth devours mine. Our tongues slip and slide faster than I can keep track.

He pulls my hips to the edge of the counter, and I wrap my legs around him. Teasing me, he traces the head of his cock up and down my slit. “I don’t think I can take it slow right now.” He presses in a little and groans. “Just to touch you with only my dick and feel how wet you are . . .”

I bite my bottom lip as he stretches me, slides inside me. He’s lost his dad, and he almost lost me too. I can feel his hunger, and I want to feed him. “This is a new start for us. Promise me, Nathan.”

He lifts his head to look at me. Sunlight filters through the kitchen window. His pupils constrict, his eyes a piercing almond-brown. “This isn’t a beginning or ending. It’s just where we are. We have a long and happy life behind us—ahead of us too.”

I dig my fingers into his shoulder as he breaks me open. With each heartfelt word and deliberate thrust, he rubs my sweetest spots. I’m practically purring. “Okay, Nathan. I trust you.”

“You want this baby?”

“I want this baby.”

He rears back, and I brace myself to take all of him, but the oven beeps. We freeze. He checks with me, an adorable expression of suffering and indecision plastered on his face. He knows I might want to stop. I don’t. It feels like sunshine after the rain to have him inside me again. But, there’ll be a price if we don’t. “It’s caramel apple pie,” I tell him. “Your call.”

He winces, as if I just slapped him. “I have to choose between pie and sex?”

“Warm and yummy,” I say. “I even got vanilla ice cream.”

He looks sidelong at the oven. “For the pie or the sex?”

I giggle and push him off me. He acts reluctant, but he smells the same delicious baked apples and homemade crust I do. “It’ll just take a minute,” I say and hop off the counter. “Otherwise it’ll be ruined.”

As I get out the oven mitts, he grabs an apron from the side closet and ties it on me. “Hot food and naked skin don’t mix.”

I bend over to check the pie and predictably, Nathan’s hand rounds the curve of my behind. “Mmm,” he hums. “You’re all the dessert I need.”

“Get me a cooling rack from the top cupboard, will you, babe?”

He slaps my ass. I gasp with the unexpected sting. “You’ve got flour on your buns,” he says. “And it’s making me hot.”

My motor is still running too, the throb between my thighs deeply unsatisfied. I place the dish on a trivet he set up. “It just needs to cool off.” I tease him as I toss the mitts aside, “Maybe I should let you cool off too.”

“Oh, I’m cool as a cucumber,” he says, scooping me up again. He plants my floured buns in the same pile of powder, takes a step back, and looks me over. He’s tall, lean, and hard everywhere. His sculpted shoulders. His muscular thighs. His pink, engorged cock, still glistening with traces of me.

“Nate,” I scold. Heat rises up my chest. “How will we ever make a baby if we don’t cross the finish line?”

He smiles slowly. “It’s just—you, in your apron. And the flour in your hair. You’re so beautiful, Sadie. It’s been too long since I told you.”

I get flustered under his praise and look away. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I hide my smile. “You’re the one who’s beautiful.”

He comes to me and turns my face to him by my chin. He pecks me hard on the lips and pulls back. Holding my gaze, he squats down to push my knees apart and my apron up. He kisses my pussy like he did my mouth, once, fast and hard, and then looks up at me with a shit-eating grin.

“What?” I ask warily.

“Tastes just like caramel apple.”

I shove his shoulder, but he holds firm. My laughter dies when he goes back for more. He sucks my clit between his teeth, then dives deep. I open my mouth toward the heavens, enjoying every nuance of his exploration. I grab onto anything I can—on one side, the sink faucet, on the other, the edge of a cupboard. “Oh my God, Nate. Where have you been with that tongue?”

He eats me out like I’m Thanksgiving dessert. In a way, I am. I smile as I moan. With a particularly pleasurable flick of his tongue, I grasp his hair. He stands up, licking his lips. “Now for the main course.”

It isn’t the first time Nathan has seduced me with cooking terms, but with his hair sticking up from where I pulled it and the irresistible smile on his face, it might be the cutest. He hauls me to the counter’s edge. The apron rides up, exposing me. We both watch as he takes his shaft in his hand and presses the tip against me. There’s nothing cute about his cock, or the way it fills me. Once he’s inside, he takes my hips and slides me onto him, steady but fast. He grits his teeth until he’s buried to the hilt. “God, Sadie. What was the matter with us? This is where we belong. It’s so clear.”

My only response is to arch my back. He grabs one of my tits through the ruffled top of the apron and squeezes. The ceiling blurs as my body submits to Nathan’s hard, commanding thrusts. He moves his hand to my mouth, his fingers pressing inside, urgent. I suck on them as he takes me faster, rougher. He uses his wet thumb to circle my clit. I’ve been on the verge so long, it doesn’t take much for me to capture my orgasm. I shut my eyes. My pussy closes around him, sucking him deep. He groans so passionately, it’s his primal sounds that take my climax to the next level and drive me wild.

When I’m spent, I wrap my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, and give my body over. He slams into me, his thrusts powerful and assertive. “I love you,” he breathes on my neck. “Only I can love you this much.”

I answer him by hanging onto him more tightly. I meet his need and take him painfully deep. I tell him with my body what I can’t with my words—
I’m sorry I ever doubted you
.

“Fuck, my, God, yes,” he rages. His muscles are alive with tension. Veins cord his neck, forearms, temples. His last drive is the deepest, and he comes, claiming me from the inside out.

He hugs me frantically, feeling the backs of my shoulders, gripping my waist and hips. He digs his fingers into my skin as if to make sure I’m real. “Sadie.”

“Nathan.” I squeeze my arms around his neck and rub my smooth cheek over his scratchy one. “I’m here.”

He exhales into the crook of my neck, relaxing. When he straightens up, I loosen my hold, but keep my arms around him. He pushes my hair off my face, then kisses me. Slowly, our lips part, and I slide my tongue along his. He angles over me, trying for deeper. “Let’s do it again,” he rumbles with his whole body.

I laugh into his mouth. “All right. But can we move to the shower? There’s flour in my crack.”

He captures my bottom lip with his teeth and grins. “I’ll meet you in there.”

I slide off the counter and cross the apartment to our bedroom. In the bathroom, I flip on the shower. As I’m untying my apron, the trashcan catches my eye. It’s stuffed with calla lilies, and a couple of them are spotted with Ginger’s blood. I steady myself against the counter as the echo of shattering glass sounds in my ears. Ginger’s howling. Nathan’s crestfallen face. I grip the edge until my knuckles are white. It all could’ve gone a different way.

It didn’t.

The once-beautiful, now-ugly flowers are a part of our imperfect history. I look up at my reflection. White flour stripes my temple, my hip, my forearm. My hair isn’t just messy, but also greasy, and my makeup has been cried, rubbed, and fucked off.

Nathan enters behind me. He picks up where I left off, sliding the apron straps off my shoulders and setting it aside. He, too, has seen better days, with his day-old stubble, wayward hair, and a patch of sugar on his chin he got while eating me out.

I tilt my head up and back to look at him. “Come here.”

He leans down, and I suck the sugar off his jaw. Just like that, my horrible last memory in this bathroom is replaced with sweetness.

He wraps his arms around me from behind and hugs me with unrestrained strength. His love floods my system like a drug—instant, pleasant, warm. “I’ve missed you,” he says. “I love you.”

“I know.” My lungs burn for air as he crushes me to him. “Look at us.”

Our eyes meet in the reflection. He smiles with a wink. “What a mess.”

Neither of us moves. This is comfortable, our naked bodies glued together, the shower steaming over, the rhythmic sound of water beating the tub floor. Tonight, in bed, I’ll tell him about the conversation with my doctor. I’ll tell him that on Sunday, we have an appointment with a realtor in Park Slope. Right now, though, I just want to stay in the simplicity of our moment, memorizing its imperfections and the way it feels to be back home in Nathan’s arms.

Thank you for reading
Slip of the Tongue
. Keep clicking for a preview of my other forbidden romance,
The Cityscape Series
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Note from the author
: I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did telling it. If you’re interested in the other characters, you may want to stay tuned for my next project (which I plan to announce to my mailing list).
Slip of the Tongue
originally came to me as a screenplay. (A girl can dream…) For now, it’s being made into an audiobook, but if you could imagine it on the big screen, create your dream cast & crew on
IF List
.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To my team: my editor, Elizabeth, who pushed me to my limits to make me, and this book, better. To the designer, Sarah, and the photographer, Tyler, for the most stunning, mind-blowing cover I couldn’t even dream up. To Katie, who took this story to the next level with her in-depth proof & beta read—all under a tight deadline. To Nina & Jenn with Social Butterfly PR, along with Give Me Books & Gossip Girls PR for their dedication to spreading the word about
Slip of the Tongue
. And to every blogger, everywhere—you do more for indie authors than could be conveyed in an entire book, much less a sentence.
To Lisa, Bethany & Amber, not only readers but friends, not only bloggers but superheroes, for keeping me sane with your relentless support and love—morning, noon & night, and to the rest of my street team for keeping me on my toes . . . and more importantly, motivated.
Speaking of motivated, nothing lights a fire under my ass like my peers and colleagues. A special thank you to Carter Ashby & Louise Bay, who prop me up every day just by existing, and to RS Grey, Lisa Suzanne, Liv Morris, and many other authors for being examples and, of course, friends. To the authors who took time to let me peek behind the curtains by sharing their self-publishing experiences and then to those who generously agreed to read and blurb
Slip of the Tongue
when I was afraid to ask, and lastly to the scaffolding of the support system, AS101 and BFFs for all the tips, guidance, and laughs over the years.

Thank you is not nearly enough! Drinks on me!

TITLES BY JESSICA HAWKINS

More info at

www.jessicahawkins.net/books

THE CITYSCAPE SERIES

The Cityscape Series is the compelling story of a forbidden love affair between a married woman and the man who could be her soul mate. Start the completed trilogy reviewers have called "gripping," "sexy" and "smart."

Olivia Germaine has already found love. Devoted wife, loyal friend, determined career woman - she's created the life she always envisioned. But when Olivia locks eyes with David Dylan, alleged playboy and eternal bachelor, across a crowded room, he challenges Olivia to confront the life she’s built and to make decisions that could either lead to happiness...or regret.
Will Olivia be able to draw the line between lust and love? 
And can David respect that line?

The Cityscape Series on Amazon
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NIGHT FEVER SERIES

Night Fever Serial is a fast-paced, 4-part love triangle reviewers are calling "hot and edgy" and "the ride of your life."

A sordid proposition. A chance at a better life. A seduction that walks the line between desire and resistance. Unbeknownst to Lola Winters, Beau Olivier has decided he wants her. And in order to get her, he’s willing to make Lola and her boyfriend Johnny’s dreams come true.

 He will own her—for one night. She will be his—for a price. Everyone involved knows it’s wrong. But is that enough to stop them?

Night Fever Series on Amazon
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(Kindle Unlimited) STRICTLY OFF LIMITS: A FORBIDDEN ROMANCE NOVELLA
Alexandra James gave up her spring break for an offer she couldn’t refuse: a week-long job that would earn her enough money to buy her way out of a broken heart. But if she thought her new boss would let her off easy because he’s her father’s best friend, she couldn’t have been more wrong. 21,000 words.

Learn more about Strictly Off Limits
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