Suddenly, the mattress dips behind me, pulling me, as if gravity chose his side. Heat radiates off him, seeping into my back, curling low between my thighs. My breath snags, quickening, as if my body can’t decide whether to hide or invite him closer.
My thighs press together, holding in the ache that blooms hot and insistent. His large hand lands on my shoulder with utter tenderness, his powerful body bowing around me as if to shield me. From the storm? From himself?
“Jasmine?”
I hold still by the skin of my teeth, fighting the urge to throw myself at his mercy. I begged for his hands and his mouth earlier. How far away is begging for his heart, for his love?
“I know you’re awake, little bird.” His whisper breezes over the small hairs on the nape of my neck, sending a direct twang to my clit.
The gruff tenderness in his tone threatens to melt me, so I infuse the last ounce of defiance into my words. “Great deduction, Mr. Grayson.”
His laughter enfolds me, the subtle shake of his shoulders sending tremors through mine. “You use sarcasm when you’re angry,” he says, pulling at that last fragile thread that’s holding me together. “Tell me.”
It’s my turn to laugh now, soft but snarky in the dark. I get paid to do a bratty good girl, and I channel it now like my lifedepends on it. “Oh, I just thought an older, mature man like you would do better than storming out on me.”
His fingers move up toward the arch of my neck and land on my pulse. “Leaving you in the bathtub was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
I hear the regret in his voice. Plus, I have years’ worth of experience that Mr. Grayson doesn’t lie.
Still, the crushing rejection I felt as I lay alone in the tub, half-blanked out on pleasure, won’t budge from my chest. I know I’m losing him come tomorrow morning, but I will lose on my terms.
“I didn’t care about that,” I say unsteadily.
“Then what?”
I shrug, and his fingers dip below the neckline of the T-shirt. Feels like electricity zapping down my spine. “I guess I expected a better performance. Given how much of an overachiever you are everywhere else.”
His powerful body stills behind me, like an apex predator coming to a sudden stop mid-chase. “What do you mean?” He sounds steady enough, but I hear the edge in his words.
I keep my voice level, but the words are sharp. “I thought if I gave my virginity to an older man, he’d at least give me the full experience… not rip through me then leave me in the tub like a soggy blanket.”
For a long, torturous beat, there’s nothing but the sounds of the pelting rain and my own shallow breaths.
Did I push him too far?
Then, large, rough hands turn me until I’m on my back.
Nathan is on his side, head propped on his elbow. There’s enough light for me to see the intensity warming his gray eyes—and the anger tightening his features. “You are right,” he says, fingers gentle on my shoulder. “I should have done better, little bird.”
My breath rushes out on a rough exhale as I realize he’s angry at himself. “You left me.” The words rush past my lips without permission, nearly a whine. “After making me come so hard I nearly blanked out.”
“I’m an ignorant asshole, Jasmine.” His breath feathers over my lips. “But even older, mature men can get thrown by a girl who begs like she’s been practicing in secret.”
My breath hovers in my throat as my eyes lock with his. There’s something there I can’t put my finger on. He’s both teasing and… probing.
I lock my hands at my sides when all they want is to clamp onto those muscular shoulders and never let go. But when his gaze zooms to my lips, I can’t help but lick them.
“You’re full of secrets, aren’t you?” he says.
I blink, but it’s a giveaway. Is he talking about Sophie’s college applications? How does he know? Was that why he was in such a strange mood as we left the reception?
My belly tightens. Suddenly, I feel the moments counting down between us. The approaching dawn might as well be the end of this. “Why did you come to bed, Nathan?”
For a beat, he just looks at me. His eyes are steady, but there’s something working behind them, like he’s deciding which truth to give me. “I decided I don’t give a fuck about honor, that you’re smart enough to know your own mind. That I care more about getting inside the virgin pussy that swallowed my fingers so greedily. I came back, baby girl,” he says softly, and suddenly he’s on top of me, his lower body pressing into mine, “to give you the full experience, as you put it.”
My thighs fall away on instinct, and his thick, hard length is lodged against my aching core. But the damn T-shirt blocks full contact. “Oh.”
“Is that okay?” he says, tone gruff.
