Read With Me in Seattle Bundle One Online
Authors: Kristen Proby
“What are you looking for?” he asks as he follows my gaze.
“The cameras.”
“What cameras?”
“I have to either be on
Punk’d
or I’m being set up to be fired.”
Nate laughs, a low chuckle that tickles my insides. “Why do you say that?”
“Because, you’ve shown no signs of attraction toward me in months, which is fine with me, and if I stay with you this weekend, we could both lose our jobs.”
His smile is gone, and his wide gray eyes go glacial. “Number one, I don’t give a fuck about the no-frat policy here. Any relationship I choose to have, in any capacity I choose to have it, is none of their business. And number two…”
He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulls me to him, slides his lips over mine, softly kissing me, persuading my lips open, and I’m reminded just how well this man can kiss.
He must have taken classes at some point.
I melt against him and brace my hands on his narrow hips. His fingers weave through my hair, and as this kiss goes on and on, my body relaxes against him in relief that he still finds me attractive, and in pure unadulterated lust.
“I definitely find you attractive, baby.” He whispers the words against my forehead and plants a soft kiss there.
He caresses my cheek with the backs of his fingers, and his gray eyes have softened. “So, what do you say? Spend the weekend with me?”
What in the hell am I supposed to do? Nate’s gray eyes are gazing into mine, and I see a hint of nervousness that I’ve never seen on his striking face before. He’s always so self-contained, so confident. It’s one of the things I’m most attracted to about him. I’ve felt pulled to him from day one, and not just physically, although he is something to write home about. He’s also the smartest man I’ve ever met, and there is something here that I can’t deny.
But…and there’s always a
but
…he’s my boss. And the last time I spent time with him at his place, it ended in disaster.
“I don’t want to make things hard for us here,” I find myself muttering.
“Things are already hard for us here. We’ve been struggling for eight months to pretend that there’s nothing between us, and we both know it’s a lie.” He pulls away from me and shoves his hands back in his pockets, and I know he’s giving me some space, letting me decide.
I shake my head and look down at my shoes, planting my hands on my hips.
“Unless
you
aren’t interested in
me
, and if that’s the case, I sincerely apologize.”
I whip my head up at the chill in his voice and find his eyes narrowed on my face, searching. This is it, he’s given me an out.
Tell him you’re not interested. Walk away, Jules.
But I can’t. I just…can’t. And it fucking pisses me off that I’m feeling vulnerable and confused.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper and close my eyes.
“Don’t overthink it,” he whispers back.
Natalie is right. Whispering is sexy as hell.
“Let’s just spend a few days getting to know each other better,” he says. “If we decide there’s no chemistry, fine, we’ll get back to business as usual, no hard feelings.” He reaches out and runs his knuckles down my cheek again, and his eyes warm, and I know I’m sunk. “I’d like to spend a few days with you, away from here.”
I turn away from him and walk to his windows, looking out at the twinkling lights of the city. I want this. Two days with Nate, not worrying about saying or doing or looking at him in an inappropriate way, just being myself. Maybe we’ll hate each other by morning.
I doubt that.
I take a deep breath and turn around. He’s standing there, his hands still in his pockets, looking sexy as sin in that suit, his face completely sober, his eyes searching mine, and I know I can’t resist what he’s offering.
“I’ll meet you at your place in two hours.”
A smile tickles his lips. “I can pick you up.”
“No, I’d rather have my own car.” He frowns, and I explain further. “If you hate me by morning, I don’t want to be dependent on you for a ride home.”
“I’m not going to hate you, Julianne, but if that’s the way you want it, fine. I have one condition.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What’s that?”
“You will not run out on me this time. If you decide you want to leave, it will be after you’ve discussed it with me first so I don’t wake up to any surprises.”
“Okay,” I murmur. “Did I wound your fragile ego that badly?” I ask sarcastically.
“No, you hurt my feelings, and that doesn’t happen often. I’d rather not relive it.”
Oh.
Before I can respond, he walks to his desk and gathers his keys, wallet and the leftovers, locks up his desk and grabs a briefcase. “Let’s go.”
***
Yoga pants, tank, Nikes. Extra underwear, bras, jeans, T-shirts.
Jesus, Jules, you’ll only be gone for forty-eight hours, and that’s if you’re not completely sick of each other by tomorrow.
I survey my small suitcase, and then grab my new strapless gray dress with pink stilettos, handbag and accessories. Maybe we’ll go out.
I throw in some toiletries, jewelry, and makeup. Then I shove my iPad into the Louis Vuitton handbag that my obsessively generous brother-in-law got for me and load everything into my little red car.
Good Lord, it looks like I’m moving in.
Aren’t I? For the weekend, anyway.
Before I can chicken out, I lock up the house and drive back into the city to Nate’s condo building in downtown Seattle. He texted me the address, but I remember the way. How could I forget?
I park underground in the extra space he owns, grab my small gray suitcase and purse and head for the elevator.
Dear God, I’m going to throw up.
I watch the numbers above the door climb as the elevator ascends to the thirtieth floor, and as each floor passes, anticipation and nervousness grip my chest. I’m not convinced that this is a good idea. Yet here I am.
I take a deep breath and ring Nate’s doorbell. He answers quickly, opening the door wide and standing back to let me in. He’s changed into soft faded blue jeans and a long-sleeved white T-shirt, his hair loose and pushed back from his face, just screaming for my fingers to be buried in it, and I’m glad that I had the foresight to change into blue jeans and a simple black T-shirt myself.
“I was afraid you’d change your mind.” He smiles gently at me, his gray eyes warm.
“No need to worry, here I am.” He takes the handle to my suitcase and sets it aside, closing the door, and then pulls me into him, his arms wrapped around my shoulders. I brace my hands on his lean, jean-clad hips, and we just stand here, looking at each other.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
“For what?”
“Agreeing to spend the weekend with me.” He leans down and kisses my forehead gently, and I frown. This is a new side to Nate. I like it. How many more sides to him will I meet this weekend?
“Well, I’ve always found you to be pretty persuasive.” I smile up at him, and I see the humor in his eyes.
“I’m happy to hear that.” He steps back and links my fingers with his. “Let’s get you settled.”
Still holding my hand, he wheels my suitcase behind us and leads me through his condo. It’s really spectacular. The floors are all a honey-colored hardwood. The front door opens up into a great room with tall ceilings and large windows with a great view of Seattle and the sound. The furniture is lush and inviting, in brown and red tones. The kitchen is to die for, and I can’t wait to get in there and cook.
Cooking is a passion of mine.
This kitchen gives me a girl hard-on. Seriously.
Six-burner natural gas stove, with a grill, double oven and warming drawer, two sinks, lots of light-colored granite counter space, and a huge refrigerator.
“Can I cook for you this weekend?” I ask as we pass by the kitchen.
“You cook?” he asks, looking back at me with surprise.
“I love to cook.” I smile. “Do you?”
“I do, too. Perhaps we can cook together?”
“Okay.”
He turns away from me again, leading me from the room, toward the bedrooms. God, he’s something to look at. Especially in jeans, which I’ve never seen him in before. His shoulders are so broad, and his T-shirt hugs the muscles across his back. His jeans fall off his hips in that sexy way that toned men have that make women sit up and drool.
And I don’t know what it is about a sexy man barefoot in jeans, but holy shit.
Are we seriously going to jump right into bed? No,
Hey, would you like a drink? Or would you like to watch a movie?
Just,
Welcome to my home, get in my bed?
Nate leads me down the hall and points out a guest bathroom and an office. Then he walks right past his bedroom and stops at the door at the end of the hall. He opens the door and walks in, and I follow, completely confused.
“This is my spare bedroom. You’re welcome to use it while you’re here.” He places my suitcase on the ottoman at the end of the beautiful, queen-size bed. The headboard is black swirly wrought iron, and the bedding is blue and green, matching the nautical-themed artwork on the walls.
“I’m not sleeping in your room?” I ask and cock my head, studying him.
“You’re welcome to sleep in my room if that’s what you want, but I don’t want to assume anything. I told you that I wanted to spend the weekend with you to get to know you better, and that’s the truth. If you sleep with me, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you, and if there is no sex this weekend, I’m okay with that.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re okay with no sex?”
“It’ll kill me because all I’ve thought about for the better part of a year now is getting your beautiful body naked, in the light this time so I can see you, but there’s time for that.” He walks back to me, those beautiful gray eyes on mine, and runs his fingertip down my cheek. “You are so lovely, Julianne. I love your gorgeous blond hair and your blue eyes. And I so enjoy your smart mouth.”
Holy. Crap.
But then my snarky side rears her ugly head for a moment. We haven’t slept together since last summer, and I know, just by looking at him, that he wouldn’t lack for willing bodies to bang, should he so choose.
He leads me out of the bedroom and back into the great room.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Water would be great.” I need to keep a clear head while I’m processing all of this. No sex? With Nate? Why stay here then?
“I have a question,” I say.
Nate crosses the living space to the kitchen and pulls water and a beer out of the fridge and saunters back over to me. “Shoot.”
He passes me the water, and we both sit on a soft, light brown couch. I kick my flats off and pull my feet up under me and settle in.
“If you don’t want to have sex with me, why am I staying overnight? We could just meet up during the day.”
His fabulous gray eyes turn arctic, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing.
“I didn’t say I don’t want to have sex with you. I said it’s up to you. And I want you, here, for a full forty-eight hours. I don’t want you to run away from me this time.”
He takes a pull off his beer and glares at me.
Okay.
“Any more questions?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“One. How many other women have you fucked since I was here last?”
Holy fucking shit! Why did that just come out of my mouth?
Because I want to know.
Nate’s eyes go wide and then pissed off again. “Julianne, if you had been paying attention to me over the past year, you’d have noticed that I’m not interested in any woman, for fucking or otherwise, except you.”
Oh. Really?
He pulls his sleeves up to his mid-forearms and runs his hands through his hair in frustration, and my eyes zero in on his right arm.
“What is this?” I scoot closer to him and can’t help but run my fingers down his arm.
“A tattoo.” A smile tickles his lips, and I smile back at him.
“Does it go all the way up your arm?”
“Yes. It’s a sleeve.”
Oh my God, it’s sexy. It looks tribal, and it swirls around his forearm, from just above his wrist, disappearing under his shirt.
“So, my conservative-looking, suit-wearing boss has a tattoo and has his penis pierced?” I ask with a smile.
Nate laughs and takes another pull on his beer. “Yes. You didn’t seem to mind the piercing, if memory serves correctly.”
And just like that my panties are soaked, and I am on fire. No, I didn’t mind at all.
“No, I don’t mind it.” I smirk. “I just didn’t expect it. How long have you had this?” I run my finger down his arm again, and Nate grabs my hand and kisses it, then links his fingers with mine and rests them in his lap.
“Since my early twenties.”
“Were you a bad boy?” I ask, teasing him.
“Oh, I think I still am on occasion.” He’s grinning, a full-out grin, and it just takes my breath away.
“You don’t smile enough,” I murmur.
“I don’t?”
“No, you have a great smile.”
“Thank you. Want to know a secret?”
“Definitely.”
Nate’s still grinning, and he has an edgy, bad-boy sparkle in his sexy gray eyes. He props his gorgeous feet on the ottoman in front of him, crossing them at the ankle.
“Most of my front teeth are fake.”
“What? Why?”
“Because they got knocked out.”
“Oh my God! Were you in an accident?” What the hell happened to him?
Nate laughs, and I’m completely confused.
“No, I used to fight.”
“Fight with whom?”
“With other guys who signed up for it.”
“I’m lost.” I’m frowning at him. What the hell is he talking about?
“I used to be a UFC fighter, Julianne.” He’s still smiling, delighted with himself.
“You do MMA?” I ask. I shouldn’t be surprised. That’s exactly the kind of body he has.
“You know mixed martial arts?” he asks, his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline.