With Me in Seattle Bundle One (54 page)

“I’m going to have to go shopping this week.  You’re tearing up all of my clothes.”  I laugh as we walk onto the elevator, and Nate pulls me into his arms, hugging me close.

“I’ll replace them.” He kisses my forehead, and I smirk.

“No need.  I don’t mind.”

“Did you bring a dress?” he asks.

“Yes, why?”

“I’d like to take you out tonight.”  He runs his hand up and down my back, and I feel like purring.

“Okay.”

“Good, let’s go shower.”

Chapter Seven

I study myself in the mirror and grin.  I’ve pulled my blond hair into a loose bun behind my left ear. My eye makeup is smoky and sexy, setting off my blue eyes, and pink lip gloss is smoothed over my lips.

It will probably be kissed off before we leave the condo.

My dress is light gray and strapless, with a sweetheart neckline.  It’s gathered between my breasts and has soft ruffles that fall down the length, just above my knees.  I have pink diamonds in my ears, a birthday gift last year from Natalie, a pink bracelet on my right wrist and pink Louboutin heels.

Grabbing my gray clutch bag, I toss in my phone, lip gloss, money, debit card and driver’s license.

Time to knock Nate’s socks off.

Coldplay’s
The Scientist
is playing.  Nate is not in the great room or the kitchen, and I know he’s not in his bedroom or master bathroom, because that’s where I just came from. 

Huh.  Where is he?

I wander back down the hall and see the light on in his office. Leaning against the door frame, I watch him work.  I love his work face.  His eyes are narrowed, watching the computer screen, and he’s quickly tapping on the keys, most likely sending an e-mail.

He looks absolutely mouthwatering in black jeans and a snug-fitting royal-blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. I love seeing the tattoo on his right arm. His hair is loose, because I asked him to leave it down while we were scrubbing each other in the shower.  A shower that took about four times longer than it should have because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

It’s like my birthday and Christmas all rolled into one when he’s naked, and he seems to feel the same way about me.

“Am I keeping you from work this weekend?” I ask, smiling at him. 

His head jerks up and those gray eyes go wide as he looks me over from head to toe.

“No, nothing important.”  He pushes back from his desk and saunters over to me, his warm gray eyes holding mine.  “You are stunning.”

“Thank you.  You look incredible yourself.”  I run my fingers through his hair, and I don’t care that I have a goofy grin on my face.  “I like your hair down.”

“Do you?”  He bends down and softly kisses my neck, just below my ear.  “You take my breath away, Julianne.”

“I’m glad.”  I kiss his chin and adjust one of the buttons on his shirt.  “Where are we going tonight?”

“There’s a great seafood place down on the waterfront.”

“Sounds good.”

He kisses me, sweeping his lips across mine, and then lays his forehead on mine. “Let’s go.”

***

Dinner has been enlightening and delicious.  We have talked like old friends, and I’ve learned even more about Nate’s childhood, growing up as an only child with just his father.  We’ve avoided talking about work, so I decide to broach the subject.

“So, what’s going to happen Monday?” I ask and take a sip of wine as we wait for dessert.

“I’m assuming we’ll be at work,” he comments and eyes me apprehensively.

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, let me ask you this.” He takes my hand and examines my French-tipped fingernails. “Is this a one-weekend thing for you?  Do you want to go back to having a purely professional relationship at the stroke of midnight tomorrow?”

No!  Is that what he wants?  The thought makes me sick.  I’ve learned so much about him in the short twenty-four hours we’ve been together, seen such an amazing new side to him.  I enjoy his no-nonsense conservative side at work, and I can’t get enough of the bad boy I’ve met today.

“No,” I whisper.  “That’s not what I want.”

He exhales deeply and kisses my fingers, relief evident on his gorgeous face.  “Me either.”

“So, what do we do?”

“We continue having an amicable, professional relationship at work, and whatever happens outside of the office is our business.” He shrugs like it makes perfect sense.  Like it’s so easy.

“I’m not a good actress.”

“Oh, I don’t know, you’ve done well enough for the past eight months.”  He sits back and takes a sip of wine, not letting go of my hand, his eyes hooded.

There is no choice.  If we give any clue at work that we’re intimate, we’ll both be fired.  If we decide to never see each other again, I’ll be devastated and brokenhearted.  Neither option is appetizing.

“Okay.  Business as usual.”

“Excuse me.” Our waiter approaches the table, and I smile up at him.  “Aren’t you Jules M from
Playboy
?”

I feel the blood drain from my face.  I’m never recognized, ever.  It’s been five years since I last posed in that magazine, and it has to be now, when I’m with Nate, that some kid remembers seeing me in a magazine his dad probably had hidden under his bed.

I throw on my fake smile and wink at him.  “I am.”

Nate releases my hand, and I cringe on the inside.

“Wow.” The waiter blushes and smiles back at me.  “I thought I recognized you. I don’t want to bug you. I was just curious.  Your dessert should be ready in a second.”

“Thank you, Derrick,” I reply smoothly, reading his name tag.  He nods awkwardly and walks away, and I take a deep breath and meet Nate’s eyes across the table.

“I guess I should mention that I posed in
Playboy
a long time ago,” I murmur.

“I guess you should,” he responds.  His voice has gone colder, and I cringe, on the outside this time.

“It’s not something I’m ashamed of, but it doesn’t come up often anymore.  It was a long time ago.”  I shrug and watch his expression, which doesn’t change.

“Why did you do it?” he asks.

“Well, Natalie used to take a lot of photos of me.  She still does.  The biggest part of her business is boudoir and couples photography.  She got into it in college, and I was the one she practiced on.”

“Go on,” he says after Derrick places our desserts on the table.

“So, there was a talent scout in Seattle one weekend, and I grabbed a few of the photos she took and went there to see what they thought.  One month later I was in LA at a studio posing for the magazine.”  I shrug again and fidget with my silverware.  “It didn’t pay very well, but I didn’t need the money anyway.  I guess it made me feel sexy, and girlie, which was important to me because I’d always been around so many boys, and it was fun.  The photographer was very professional, as was everyone else on the set.  I got to stay at the Playboy Mansion a few times and hang out with the other girls and Hef, and there were celebrities around.  For a twenty-one-year-old, it was glamorous and exciting.”

“But?” he asks, prompting me to continue.

“But, I didn’t like the crude guys that would approach me when I was out with Nat. One guy cornered me in a bathroom hallway in a bar one night, and well, let’s just say he had a hard time taking no for an answer.” I swallow and look down at my clenched hands. “I beat him to a bloody pulp.”  Nate’s hand flexes into a fist on the table, and I raise my eyes to his.  “I literally put him in the hospital.”

“Good,” is his only response.

“I decided that posing those few times was enough.  It’s something I’ll always have, but not something I need.  I’m shocked that kid recognized me.”  I shake my head and close my eyes, wishing Nate would give me a clue to what he’s thinking.

“Please say something,” I whisper when it feels like minutes tick by without a peep from him.

“I don’t like it.”  His voice is quiet and cold, and my stomach clenches in fear.

“That’s understandable,” I mutter, my head down.  I focus on the tablecloth, running my fingers over it, steadying myself for him to say he’s done.  This is a deal-breaker for him.  He thinks I’m a whore.

I’ve heard all those things before.

“I think you’re incredible.”

What?
  I whip my head up, my eyes searching his.  My mouth is open in shock.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You don’t think I’m a whore?” Seriously?

His eyes go arctic.  “Don’t you ever fucking say that again.”

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“Just what?” he snaps.

“I’ve heard it before,” I whisper and look down again.

“Look at me.” His voice is softer, calmer, and I raise my eyes to his again.  “You are a brilliant, lovely woman, Julianne.  You had a wild streak in college.  That’s something I can identify with.”  He raises an eyebrow, and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“The problem I have,” he continues, “is that other men have seen your beautiful body.”

“I wasn’t a virgin when I met you,” I remind him.

“No, you weren’t, and I can deal with that, although I admit it makes me a little crazy.  But knowing other men have seen you, and fantasized about you, makes me want to put each and every one of
them
in the hospital, starting with our young waiter.”

Oh.
I don’t know why that touches me, and I’m mortified to feel tears prick the backs of my eyes.  I blink rapidly and try to find my equilibrium.  He never fails to surprise me.

“So…” I swallow and grip his hand in mine.  “So, you still want to see me?”

“Of course.” He frowns like it’s an absurd question.

I nod and look down at my chocolate cake.  “Can we get these to go?”

“Great idea.”  He signals for the waiter and requests boxes for our delicious-looking desserts. 

He’s quiet on the ride back to his apartment, but he keeps a hand on my thigh, as though he just can’t stop touching me, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

He still wants me! 

I glance at his sexy motorcycle when I climb out of his car, and I smirk, remembering this afternoon.  He smiles down at me and kisses my hand.  “I’m looking forward to doing that again,” he murmurs.

Oh, me, too!

“Do you want dessert?” Nate asks me once we get inside the apartment.

“Yes,” I respond and smile up at him, running my fingers through his soft black hair.

“I’ll plate these for us.” He starts to turn away, but I grab on to his shirt and turn him back toward me.

“That’s not what I meant,” I mutter.  Those beautiful gray eyes darken and look down at my lips as I pull my bottom lip between my teeth.

“No?” he whispers back and runs his fingers down my cheek.  I shake my head and take the bag containing our dessert out of his hand.  I walk over to the fridge, my pretty pink shoes clicking on the hardwood, and my gray dress floating around my thighs, making my skin hum.  I stow the containers and turn back around, and Nate is standing right behind me.

“Oh!” I gasp, startled.

“Dessert should be eaten in the kitchen,” he murmurs and cups my face in his hands, nibbling my mouth and pushing me back against the stainless steel fridge.

“It should?”

“Yes, no food allowed in the bedroom.” 

I smile and tilt my head to the side as he slides those amazing lips over to my ear and down my neck.  I run my hands down his back and pull his shirt out of his pants, gliding my hands up his smooth, warm skin.

“You feel good,” I whisper.

He groans and lifts me, pivots and sets me down on the countertop, stepping between my thighs.  My fingers find their way into his hair, and I gaze up at him, a smile tickling my lips.  “You’re so handsome.”

He smiles shyly and shakes his head and leans down and nibbles my bare shoulder.

“Hmm.” Oh, that feels good. 

He pushes his hands under the hem of my dress and up my naked thighs, to my hips.

“You’re not wearing panties?” His eyes are wide as they search mine, and he grins wolfishly.

“I figured, what’s the point?  You’ll just rip them off me anyway.”  I giggle, and he drops to his knees, hitching my legs over his shoulders.

Whoa!

He scoots me to the very edge of the counter, and I have to grip it so I don’t fall.  “I’m going to fall,” I gasp.

“No, you won’t, baby.”  He hikes my skirt up around my hips and parts my thighs.  “Jesus, look at you.”

“Nate.” I squirm, and he smiles up at me.

“I think I’ll have you for dessert, Julianne.”

And with that he leans in and runs his tongue up over my labia and to my clit, then back down again and sinks into me, kissing me deeply, those talented lips kissing and coaxing my most intimate lips, his tongue working its way in and out of me in a perfect rhythm.  I clutch his hair in my fingers and throw my head back, reveling in the way his amazing mouth feels on me. 

God, I missed having him do this to me, and he only did it once before!

I feel his thumb on my clitoris and push my pelvis against his mouth as electricity shoots through me, through my limbs to my toes, and up my spine.

“Oh fuck, Nate.”

He sucks my lips into his mouth and presses harder on my clit, and I unravel, completely coming apart at the seams.  He rains soft kisses on my inner thighs, then suddenly he’s standing before me, his pants unzipped, and his beautiful cock is hard and ready for me.  I reach down and run my finger around the head and over the silver balls that I’ve grown to really, really love.

Really fucking love.

He sucks air in through his clenched teeth, and I push him away from me to hop off the counter, still fully clothed.  I push him against the refrigerator and kneel, taking his cock in my hands and pushing up and down, loving how smooth and hard he is.

“Oh God, Jules, you don’t have to do this.” 

I look up into his blazing gray eyes and frown.

“You called me Jules.” 

He gives me a cocky grin and shrugs, and I reward him with a grin of my own.

I resume massaging his cock and swirl my tongue around the tip, then over, tasting a small bead of dew.  I like the way the apa feels against my tongue.  I look up at Nate’s face, elated at the raw lust in his eyes, and lick his shaft, from his scrotum to the tip, then sink my mouth over him.