Page 53 of Weddings, Revenge & Fake Dating

“I just squeezed your head so tight with my thighs, I’m wondering how it didn’t pop off.” I rub my forehead.

“I have a very strong neck,” he says.

I laugh, harder than I should.

Nathan knew I’d cave. He was ready. How could I not? If I knew a hot stripper with a magic tongue and vibrator would wash away years of stress and anxiety, I would have done this sooner.

I hadn’t been taken care of by a partner in so long, I was starting to believe I didn’t deserve it. That going without love and intimacy was my punishment for a failed relationship.

When this deep-seated realization hits, my laughter twists into quiet, vulnerable tears.

“Are you okay?” A concerned Nathan shifts beside me.

Frozen, I lie in silence. Maybe it’s shock.

In a matter of moments, Nathan has shown me what I’ve been missing—again.

Roman never had the patience for foreplay. Sex was always a rushed affair, a chance for him to get in, get off, and get out. Every bit of pleasure was for him.

But this? Nathan did this for me.

When I don’t answer, he flips me until we’re nose to nose. Stinging tears prick my eyes.

“Did I hurt you?” He searches my face.

“It’s not that. It’s been a long time since . . .” My words drift. I’m not sure whether to be embarrassed or sad. I glance at Nathan from under my wet lashes. He must think I’m ridiculous.

“You deserve to be worshipped.” With his thumb, he wipes a runaway tear.

I shake my head. “You barely know me, and you think more of me than the person I’ve spent more than half my life with.”

“Roman’s blind if he doesn’t see your worth.” Nathan’s expression softens. “But it’s also time for you to see it too.”

“There you go, life coaching again.” A pop of a wet chuckle escapes.

“I say it because it’s the truth.” He thumbs my chin.

My sadness dissolves in his proclamation.

“I have another confession,” he says and tucks me into the spot beneath his arm.

I place a hand on his bare chest and trace the contours of his muscles.

“I’m terrified,” I say softly.

“You should be.” He kisses my head. “During our little naked meet and greet, I remembered who you were. When I worked at the beef stand, I had a huge crush on you.”

“Pfft. Now I know you’re lying.”

“You’re even sexier now,” he says as he runs a hand over the crest of my hip.

“You can’t stop flirting, even after you’ve had your way with me?”

“I always requested to work when I knew you’d be in the office.” He rushes the words, as if this is proof.

“So you’re my stalker?” I arch a brow.

“Just a stripper with an epic knack for getting you naked.”