“You’re living under my roof now, Blue. Next time you go somewhere you could be associated with the Jones family, wear something less…” He trails off, his eyes on my cleavage.
“Less what?” I challenge, crossing my arms over my chest.
Oh, we’re back to asshole North now?
He takes a step closer, pushing me against the side of the stairwell, making me gasp in surprise. One of his fingers comes up to trace a line on the skin that is showing on my stomach, making goose bumps erupt in his wake.
“Less enticing,” he murmurs, his warm breath flowing over my lips. He’s already so near, but he moves even closer, his body pressing against mine and making my heart race in my chest.
“I can wear whatever the fuck I want,” I tell him, but it comes out breathy.
His eyes lock onto mine, and the magnetic pull he has on me grows even stronger. The air is thick with tension, and I can practically taste the desire hanging in the space between us. His eyes go from mine to my lips and stay there, then he leans in, tantalizingly close, and for a moment, I forget everything else.
I forget about the consequences, about him being such a dick, about the fact that I shouldn’t even be here. All I can think about is how badly I want this, how badly I wanthim.
But just as our lips are about to meet, he stops and whispers, “Go to bed, Blue. You’re drunk.”
I gape at him as he pushes himself off the stairway and turns to go upstairs, leaving me standing there feeling like a complete idiot.
I can’t believe this man!
I try hard to gather my composure before I make my way to my room, close the door, and let my back fall against it. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes.
What the hell just happened?
The worst part is I would have let him kiss me. I would have let him do so many things, and I’m not even entirely sure I would have regretted them.
A knock on the door startles me, and my fury burns hot again.
Who does he think he is?
Telling me to go to bed like a little kid only to come back to berate me some more?
I nearly rip open the door. “What do you—” I start but freeze when I see it’s Nash standing before me.
He searches my face for a second, but when I don’t say anything else, he grabs my head with both hands, crashing his lips down to mine while pushing me inside the room and closing the door behind us.
THIRTY-ONE
Nash’sunexpected kiss sends a shock wave through my body, making me forget all about North and everything else. His lips are warm and demanding, tasting like beer and ocean again. I can’t help but respond with equal fervor, the warmth of his lips a stark contrast to the touch-starved cold that was lingering in my bones after the last time we did this. The sensation is both foreign and achingly familiar.
His fingers tangle in my hair, a tender yet possessive touch that anchors me in the now with him, pulling me even closer. The tension between us that has been building for days ignites a fiery passion as my hands find their way to his chest, gripping his sweater tightly as if trying to draw his very essence into my skin. The kiss deepens, and with it, the walls I’ve built around myself start to crumble. I can taste his desire in every kiss, every touch, and it’s intoxicating.
We stumble backward, our lips still locked together, until the back of my legs hit the edge of the bed. Nash pushes me gently, and I fall onto the soft mattress, my heart pounding in my chest. He follows me down, his body hovering over mine, and I welcome the weight of him, a pressure I’ve craved withoutknowing, a physical connection that fills the hollow spaces in my heart.
Our kisses become even more desperate, the heat building between us. Nash’s hand slides down my side, tracing a path of fire along my skin, and I can’t help but gasp as his fingers find the curve of my hip. Needing more,to be seen, to be felt, to be cherished, I arch into his touch.
Just as I think I’m losing my mind, Nash pulls away, his breath heavy. He looks down at me with dark, intense eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Thinking about me now?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.
“Yes. Shut up,” I whisper, a plea disguised as an order, pulling him back down to kiss me again, his kiss like a balm to the loneliness that has shadowed me.
He’s savoring me, kissing me languidly, before his lips leave mine and trail a path of hot, lingering kisses down my neck, each one a promise for more whispered against my skin, igniting a trail of desire in their wake. A low moan escapes my lips as his mouth finds its way to my collarbone, wandering up until his teeth nip the flesh of my throat.
I longed for this, yearned and ached for a touch, forhistouch. Even if I didn’t allow myself to dwell on it.
My back arches, a silent plea for more, for everything he can give.
In the give and take of lips and the exchange of breaths, I find that piece of myself that has been locked away.
