The rest of my words are enveloped by his lips as he pushes me against the wall and starts attacking my mouth. The kiss is frantic, messy and desperate.
I kiss him back, drowning in a tornado of pleasure as he claims my lips so completely that I might as well sign the deed and give him total ownership.
Nat’s firm fingers close around my hip and tug me toward him so our bodies are flush. My hand climbs up his neck and dives into his short hair, as I try to anchor myself in a whirlwind of scorching, relentless caresses.
His mouth breaks away from mine and I pry my eyes apart, watching through heavy lids as he stares at me with a kind of hunger that takes my breath away.
I don’t remember why I was so concerned.
Or why I came running out here.
I don’t remember my own name.
But when Nat dives into me again, I hear the distinct sound of little pills rattling.
It’s enough of an alarm bell that I pull back.
“Nat,” I whisper breathlessly, hauling in gallons of air to try and get my brain working again.
He doesn’t stop. Nat’s lips dive to my neck and shoulder, leaving sultry kisses on my skin, taunting me, teasing me, making me want more.
I can’t stay focused.
My knees buckle as I wave my white flag of surrender.
Nat senses the shift in me or maybe he sees the dazed, drunken expression on my face because he leans his forehead against mine and smiles.
“I’m so crazy about you, Riley.” His green eyes drop to my lips as his voice thickens with need. “This moment, this win, it feels ten times better because you’re here.” He leans forward, sucking from my lips, driving me wild. “Not everyone getssecond chances. I know that,” he whispers against my mouth. “I won’t let you down.”
Another alarm bell goes off at the desperation in his voice.
“Nat, is everything okay?” I ask again, more seriously. My lips are a little sore from his aggressive kissing and I swipe my tongue over them.
Nat’s eyes fasten on the movement.
I shift back before he can distract me with more kisses, but Nat grabs my hips, pulling me against his chest and giving me a hug.
“What are you doing this afternoon?” he asks.
“I…” My voice cracks, “I wanted to visit Betty.”
“I’ll come with you,” Nat says.
I pull back, stunned.
“If you don’t mind,” he says.
“O-okay. If you want to.”
Nat checks his watch and cringes. “The guys must be waiting. Let’s head out before they send a search party.”
I allow Nat to hold my hand and lead me back to the conference room, but with each step, I become more and more uneasy.
My womanly instincts are screaming that Nat is hiding something from me.
And that something has a lot to do with his leg that was crushed and had to be surgically pieced back together.
If those pills I heard rattling in his pocket were prescription pain pills, what does that mean for Nat? What if he starts getting dependent on drugs to play? What if this gets much bigger and more complicated because he’s trying to solve it alone?
