For Better or Hearse

Chapter Nineteen

S tupid, dumb reptilian brain. Stupid kissing Nathaniel Whitford. Stupid she’s still thinking about it even though it’s been approximately five hours since then. And in the meantime, they’ve had dinner and participated in a sunset water aerobics class so militant that her entire body feels like a rubber band.

She wants to be back in that lagoon. Pressed against Nathaniel’s hard stomach, held like she mattered. His frantic fingers inside her, his lush, warm mouth devouring.

I notice everything about you.

She’s never been looked at that way. Ever. Partly like she’s roadkill, but also…with wonder. Wanting.

What does it mean?

Ash walks across the patio into her bedroom.

Nothing. It means absolutely nothing.

It has to. Today, that kiss can’t ever matter.

On the nightstand, her phone lights up. She scrambles to answer. Pretends not to be disappointed when the name on the screen isn’t Nathaniel’s. Or Tall Asshole . She should be disappointed in herself. When did she go from fuck that guy to I want to fuck that guy ?

A text from Tessie: I can’t sleep. Again.

Calling you.

“Hi. You okay?”

“I’m so restless,” Tessie murmurs. On the other end of the line, the rustle of sheets. “This baby is using my bladder as a trampoline. I swear, she only respects me like 50 percent of the time.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Ash sits on the edge of the bed. A prickle of worry needles its way beneath her skin. “Have you been to the doctor?”

Tessie laughs. “You don’t have to worry about me. How was your day?”

“It was…fine.”

Even three thousand miles away, her cousin sees right through her. Tessie gasps. “You kissed him.”

“What? No.” She covers her face with one hand. Then she mumbles, “We kinda, sorta, did more than that.”

Remembering Nathaniel’s long fingers inside her, the feel of his hard body against hers, sends a rush of heat to her core. Clandestine. Intimate. She wanted it all. Especially him.

It felt good. It felt right. Did he enjoy it as much as she did?

Tessie cheers. “Ash! Does this mean the truce is over?”

“It’s a new truce. To maybe sometimes kiss.” She’s never been good at holding back her emotions. While Tessie’s a lockbox, she’s always worn her heart on her sleeve. “It’s not complicated. Get in and out. Like a drive-through.”

Not like she’d categorize it as getting finger-fucked under a waterfall.

It was…more than that. He gave. She took. And he wanted nothing back. Even if she was close to taking the heavy weight of him in her mouth. Because she wanted to.

God, and that orgasm. She orgasmed .

Ash lets out a mmm .

Tessie’s choked laugh breaks her out of her daze. “That good, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“I still demand you tell me everything.” Over the line, a door shuts. “Solomon is full-throttle snoring. I need some romance in my life.”

Ash fights to keep her features, her tone neutral. “I mean, if you want to get all technical, Nathaniel Whitford is a bionic superhuman hiker with above-average kissing skills. ”

“And he’s a doctor.”

“And he’s a doctor.”

“What about his laugh? Is it a red or green flag?”

“Definitely green,” Ash murmurs. “Like that red Trans Am that Aunt Bev let us drive down the Pacific Coast Highway.”

“Oh my god.”

Ash bites her lip. Smiles. Whispers, “He looked up cryptids. For me, I think.”

Another gasp. “Ash.”

Her cheeks flame. “Stop. It doesn’t mean anything. It was just one part of his master plan to corrupt and sway me over to his side.”

“Sounds like you like his side.”

Ash’s heart pounds loudly in her ears. “Okay, I admit I am grudgingly impressed by his jawline, and if he wants to tie me down and whisper his murderous intentions to me while I’m half-naked, then who am I to argue? It’s just for the rest of the trip.”

“What if this is it?”

Her throat closes up. Her lungs seize. “It’s not.”

She can hear her cousin’s frown over the phone. “You always talk about the universe, Ash. But never yours. Maybe you need to let it in for once.”

Ash stands. Paces away her anxiety. “No. There is no universe-ing my love life. Nathaniel and I are a vacation fling. A blip in the stratosphere of it-happened-one-time. If you see me catching feelings for him, please send a carrier pigeon to peck my eyes out.” She inhales. “We have a few more days here, then…”

“Maui,” Tessie finishes.

“Maui.” She swallows hard, suddenly chilled. “I’ll be okay.”

“Okay like before? When you quit your job, sold your car, started traveling and ate three bologna sandwiches a day?”

Ash squeezes her eyes shut. Embarrassment coats her stomach. She did all that. And then some.

“Lizzo was right. The truth hurts.”

“Ash,” Tessie says in a soft voice. “I don’t want you to push yourself. You take care of everyone else. Don’t forget to take care of yourself. If Maui’s too much and you need to bail or hide away in your hotel room, do that.”

They go silent. But she knows Tessie waits quietly for her to rally. Or snap. Either way, she’s there. She loves her cousin so much.

Ash squeezes her eyes shut. All of a sudden, there’s no air in the room.

Truth is, it’s not even the cheating, the break-up, that haunts her anymore. It’s what Jakob said to her the day she packed her bags.

Her deepest, darkest secret. Probably the only one she’s ever kept from Tessie. Jakob lingered in the doorway, watching her pack. She was almost out the door when she stopped. Turned. She shouldn’t have asked. But she wanted to know. Maybe she wanted closure. Or an apology.

“Why?” she said. “Why did you…” She trailed off. She couldn’t finish the sentence.

Jakob let out a great heaving sigh. “Sometimes…you’re too much, Ash. Too messy. I just…can’t deal.”

He said it like he wanted to erase her.

Don’t be too much. Don’t be messy. Get your shit together.

For years, the motto consumed an overwhelming amount of bandwidth in her brain. It took her down psychologically.

She knows she’s better off. Jakob never loved her. At least not the real her.

She’ll save herself for those that deserve it.

Ash opens her eyes. Lets out a shaky breath. Nods her affirmation. “I’m not bailing on Maui. Or Augustus.”

She can get through this. Unless she encounters some sort of force majeure, she’s staying by Augustus’s side.

“Then you do what you need to get through it,” Tessie says. “Alcohol. Weed. Nathaniel’s abnormally big—”

A knock at the door makes Ash jump a foot off the bed.

“Someone’s at the door. ”

Tessie squeals. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

“Goodbye. Good night. Tell Boudica to calm it the fuck down.”

Tessie’s squeak is indignant. “That is not her name.”

Ash hangs up. Gathering herself, she sweeps her hair away from her face. With steady hands, she opens the door.

Nathaniel.

And just like that, she can breathe again.

“Hey, Bigfoot.” He wears an amused smirk, as if he could hear her and Tessie’s conversation.

Oh god, what if he did?

Ash grips the knob. Tight. Forces herself back down to earth. “To what do I owe this displeasure?”

He arches a brow. Leans in the doorway. Between that and his rolled-up cuffs and damp hair, it takes everything in Ash to not let her heart do that awooga! awooga! thing in her chest.

She’d give anything for the ability to channel her earlier hatred of Nathaniel Whitford. But she can’t do it. It no longer exists.

A sparkle in his eyes, he reaches out. “I want to take a walk.”

Ash stares at his hand.

He’s infuriating. God, she loves it.

Slowly, she clasps her hand to his. “Then take me for a walk, asshole.”

When Nathaniel says a walk, he means down the beach until they’re away from the resort and in front of all the mansions that overlook the ocean.

They settle on a blanket they grabbed from the gift shop. Between them, a bottle of wine and an easy silence.

“I wanted to walk,” Nathaniel says, “but really, I wanted to see you.”

“I’d never imagine such a heinous thing,” she teases, lighting up on the inside .

Nathaniel chuckles. He takes a swig from the wine bottle.

In the moonlight, she studies him. The dangerous angles of his handsome face. He’s like an optical illusion. There’s so much more to him than meets the eye. He’s not a rude, rich trust-fund baby. Not a jerky, opinionated doctor. He’s a good man with a genuine heart and a sharp mind. The ridiculously sculpted pectorals are just a bonus.

He passes her the wine. His fingers brush hers in the exchange, sending sparks dancing up her arms.

She takes a sip. “Drinking from the bottle is very heathen behavior.” She lifts it in a toast. “I approve.”

Nathaniel meets her stare. “Bad habit.” When his eyes land on her lips, then trace the remainder of her body, her cheeks flame.

Every memory of earlier, his hands all over her, how good it was, floods her brain. She doesn’t know what this is. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands. Her lips. She wants them all over Nathaniel. She can’t explain her many riotous feelings for this very serious man.

“I have many bad habits,” she offers. “I reuse tea bags. I have way too many intrusive thoughts. I bite the heads off gummy bears first, and all doors in my room must be completely shut when I’m sleeping.”

“Because of the monsters,” he says with utmost seriousness.

“Exactly.”

He laughs, and it feels like her favorite sweater wrapped around her hips. Comfortable. Livable. Home.

She rocks herself to the side. Knocks his shoulder. “Don’t you have one bad habit? You’re so perfect, I have to know.”

This time, his chuckle is bitter. “I’m not perfect. Least of all in the eyes of my father.”

“Why?” The mood between them has quickly turned somber. “Because you didn’t join his practice?”

“I didn’t want to burn off warts for a living, and he’s been pissed ever since. ”

Nathaniel’s tone is amused, but beneath it lingers bitterness. As if he’s covering his hurt. As if he’s unburying pain he’s pushed down deep.

“I paid the loans for med school, changed my course. I didn’t want anything from him that he could use against me. I’ve seen how he treats my mother, my brother and sister. You’ve seen it.” He slips his hand around hers.

Ash’s stomach tightens. She remains silent. Attentive.

“He can’t even enjoy this fucking vacation and make peace with my grandfather.”

She nods, understanding. So much more than she ever thought possible. He’s a son who ran when his father’s disappointment became too much to bear. Who moved to the middle of the ocean and cut himself off from everyone completely.

“It’s why you stay on that rig, isn’t it? To drift. To stay away.”

Guilty eyes flick to hers. “I hate seeing what my family’s become. They stay and take it.” His tone, his face are stone. “I don’t even think he knows I hate the name Nate.”

The thorns around her heart soften. Ash squeezes his hand.

Nathaniel swallows. Looks away from her. To the ocean.

Ash waits, letting him come to terms with whatever he’s wrestling with. When he finally does, his voice is soft. Sad.

“I don’t think my father would negotiate a ransom if he received my ear in the mail.”

Nathaniel swears. Frustration laces his tone. “And I still can’t stop myself from trying to make him proud of me. I have never been able to be what they want. A better brother. The right type of doctor. I don’t even fucking know sometimes.”

His words settle around Ash. A quiet, dying plea.

She studies him. Arches a brow. “Sure, you could work on the brother part, but your siblings are kind of gremlins. And fuck what everyone wants of you. You’re doing what you wanted to do. And you know what? I’m proud of you. Even though I still want to drown you in the Pacific, and who knows? Maybe I still will. ”

For a long second, Nathaniel sits, his eyes lit with shock.

Then he says, “Do you know you’re the first person who’s ever said they were proud of me?”

“I’m sorry,” she says simply. Her heart aches in her chest. “That would be awful.”

“It was,” he says thickly.

Both are quiet for a moment. Watching the waves, listening to the crash of them on the shore.

“My wedding.” The words feel like an atom bomb.

Ash winces. Looks down at her lap. An ache yawns inside her chest. The thorns constrict. “We don’t have to—”

“No. We do.” She still can’t look at him. He goes on. “You objecting to the wedding made me see that I was living my life for other people. The job, the marriage. Even Camellia.”

This time, Ash meets his gaze. Forces herself to face the tidal wave of her wreckage.

“We weren’t a good fit,” he says roughly. He looks down at his hands. Flexes those long fingers. “I knew it. Went along with it. Mostly for my father. Politics of the business. I suppose some part of me did love her. But…after you interrupted the wedding…I was relieved. Like I could finally be myself. I don’t know if that makes sense, but that’s how I felt.”

Ash does know. All too well. Too painfully.

It would be easy to tell him about Jakob. But why should she? Her past needs to stay dead and buried. It’s too intimate, too hers. The truth is ugly and embarrassing, and she wants to shove it back down in the lockbox of her thorny heart before it grows thrashing arms and monstrous fangs.

That’s what it is. Monstrous. That unwanted, unloved feeling. The way no one stays when they see the real Ash. They all vanish eventually. Like the sun going down over the horizon. It all ends.

Nathaniel goes on. “When she said she wanted to end it, I didn’t fight her. Walking up to that altar was the last time I tried making my father happy. ”

Ash says hoarsely, “That’s a brave thing to do. Live for yourself. Most people don’t realize it’s what they want until it’s too late.”

“You did that, Ash,” Nathaniel marvels. “You blew up my world. For a long time, it pissed me off. But deep down, I was really pissed at myself. Because I should have been the one to do it.” His handsome face creases. “Camellia and I…we didn’t notice each other. We didn’t talk. Not in any real way. Not like the way you and—”

He snaps his mouth shut. Opens it again to regroup. When nothing comes out, he reaches for the wine.

As Nathaniel takes a long, long drink, the space heats between them. Ash’s face flames. She shuts her eyes against the realization of what he almost admitted.

You and me.

Fuck. Shit.

There is no you and me when it comes to the two of them.

They’re existing on a common plane. That’s it. Once this vacation is over, they go back to the real world. Reality. He will be in the North Sea, and all he’ll be to her is a pirate doctor she once let finger-fuck her beneath a waterfall.

Even if it feels wrong to consider what happened earlier between them a tawdry, illicit fling.

It was better. It was worth it. It was theirs.

Ash picks up the silence. It’s best if she controls where they go next.

“It took me a long time to figure out what I wanted to do.” She side-eyes him and gives him a sharp smile. “Cons and all.”

He rubs his jaw, regret evident on his handsome face. “I never should have said that.”

Her cheeks stain with color. “It’s okay. Sometimes I feel like a con.”

“Don’t say that about yourself.”

“You may be right. Sometimes.” She bumps her shoulder against his. “I don’t take on these part-time jobs for fun and games. I need the money, the insurance for insulin supplies. They’re expensive.”

His eyebrows furrow, making his expression unhappy. “I know.”

“And this job? I’m helping your grandfather, but really, he’s helping me. With what he’s paying me, I’ll be stocked for years.” Ash wrinkles her nose. “Shit. Is that gauche? To talk about money?”

“No. He should pay you more.”

Ash laughs. A sensation beyond electric works its way through her blood.

Nathaniel is quiet. He stares at her until she meets his eyes. “You’re worth it.”

She can barely breathe. “I am?”

“Yeah. You are.”

He leans in, closing the distance between them. Slides a hand into her hair and brings her mouth to his. Kisses her long and passionately. Each of their pounding hearts tailor-made to say words they long to speak.

Ash closes her eyes, savoring his kiss. This endless night. This man.

Nathaniel pulls back. Eyes hungry and heated, he breathes, “Tell me your name, Ash.”

She laughs against his lips. Kisses him once more.

“Nope.”

Smiling, he tucks her against his side. “Ashley?”

She makes a face. “Rude. And no.”

“I poured my heart out tonight. Don’t you think I deserve some consolation?”

“No.” Considering it, she tilts her head. “At least not in the immediate future.”

“Hmm.” He runs a big hand down her shoulder. She shivers at the contact. The feel of his body on her. “That would mean I’m included in the future.”

“You’re Augustus’s grandson. As long as that old man’s kicking, I can only assume you’ll be buzzing around like a gnat.” She gives a casual shrug, keeps a casual tone.

Only the last thing she feels is casual.

Knotted up. That’s more accurate. So knotted up inside. Like not seeing Nathaniel again is a kind of death.

“Then tell me something else,” Nathaniel says. “Why the boots? There has to be a story.”

“There is.” She presses closer to him. For an instant, her heart retreats to the hollow of her chest. But she forces it out of hiding to say, “They make me feel powerful.” Her eyes flick to Nathaniel’s face. He’s watching her with a quiet curiosity. Giving her the space she needs.

“My mom bought me a pair after I was diagnosed. We went shopping in Beverly Hills. Tessie and her mom were there. I was allowed to pick one thing I wanted. No matter what the price was.” The golden threads of her memory shimmer, easing the tension in her shoulders. “When I saw them, I knew I had to have them. They were badass. They made me feel badass. Invincible. Like I could stomp, and everyone could stare, and I didn’t care. I could ward anything off when I wore those boots.”

Nathaniel idly smooths her hair, gently combing his fingers through it. He’s listening. It’s obvious in the stiffness of his body. The attentive weight of his stare. She feels all of him.

Ash sighs, burrows closer to him. “Everything about that time was tentative and hard, but those boots weren’t. They were my superpower. They were everything about my life I wanted but couldn’t find at the time.”

She closes her eyes. Exhales the memory.

A soft muttered swear falls from Nathaniel’s lips.

“What’s wrong?” She blinks back to the moment, takes him in.

“I shouldn’t have called you that.” He swallows audibly. “Bigfoot.” Guilt’s etched across his face. His expression turns serious, and her heart stutters as he says, “I didn’t know what your boots meant to you. I’m a fucking asshole. ”

She’s momentarily speechless. Touched.

“No, really. It’s fine,” she says earnestly. It’s sweet that he cares, that he feels bad, but there’s no need. “I love the nickname. I really do.”

After a beat, he touches her shoulder.

Wordlessly, she twists into him, and he takes her in his arms. The gesture so intimate, so kind, that it steals her breath. Ash sighs at the delightful sensation. His hug is like a weighted blanket, or better yet, a hydraulic press.

A breeze kicks up, and despite the balmy temperature, Ash shivers.

Nathaniel cups her jaw. He wipes that dark hair off her face, skims a thumb over the delicate arch of her cheekbone. “Let’s go back. Get you warm.”

She is warm. Here, in Nathaniel’s arms, she’s the warmest she’s ever been. She doesn’t want to go back. She wants to sit on this beach with this man, confessing strange truths, and watch the sun rise.

But instead, she bites her tongue and says, “Okay.”

“Well, I guess this is good night.”

Ash lingers in the doorway of her hotel room. Nathaniel stands on the other side of the threshold like a blood-sucking vampire who hasn’t been allowed to enter. She’s suddenly flooded with nerves. Why did he have to be a perfect fucking gentleman and insist on walking her back to her room?

“My bad habit,” he rasps. “You asked earlier if I had one.”

She props a hand on her hip. “I’m not interested anymore.”

He blinks, and she laughs. She likes teasing him. Likes watching him come undone.

Then, slowly, he smiles. “It’s rocks.”

It’s her turn to blink. “Rocks? ”

“In every new place I’m in, I take a rock.”

“That’s a right proper nerd, Nathaniel.” She tilts her head. “I’m impressed. There’s nothing sexier than a rock.”

Eyes blazing, he inches closer.

She smirks. “Do you have lots? Of rocks?”

His hands settle on her waist. “Of course. Igneous. Metamorphic. Sedimentary.”

“Sedimentary. Sounds sexy.”

“Unreasonably so.”

“We should probably get to bed,” Ash hedges softly.

Neither one of them moves.

Several heartbeats later, Nathaniel leans in. One muscular forearm rests on the wall above her, pinning her against the doorframe.

Ash swallows. Her breaths come out funny. Shallow. Raspy.

Wordlessly, he dips down and kisses her. His tongue teases hers into a stupor, pulling a whimper from her.

He breaks the kiss. Puts one big hand on her hip. Traces one long finger along the line of her waistband to dip below it.

Her hips arch slightly, pressing against him.

“What do you feel when I do this?” His blue eyes sear hers. Hungry and heated.

“Everything,” she whispers. “I feel everything.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I do too.”

So heavy, the space between them. In her chest, fluttering warmth. A sensation she hasn’t felt in an ice age. Like a candle warming.

She stops trying to fight it. Her hands shoot out and grab his face. She yanks him toward her. Their mouths crash together. Devouring. Frenzied and claiming.

Her brain fizzes. Her lashes flutter. Gasping for air, she pulls back. “I shouldn’t want you.”

“Because we hate each other.”

The thorns around her heart tighten a fraction. “Right. ”

“Wrong.”

“Because of Augustus.”

“Right.”

“But I want you. Naked.” His heated gaze lands on her lips. “You turn me on. So fucking much.”

She can’t stop the reckless thrill that skitters through her. There’s no reason to rush, yet she can’t help herself.

She grabs him by the collar, the move so rough she can’t be sure she doesn’t pop a seam, and drags him into her room. Inside, they stumble over Ash’s shoes, her purses and clothes.

Nathaniel’s hands are everywhere. His palms caress over her shape, removing her shirt in the process. As it floats to the floor, he cups her breast, a rough moan parting his lips at the sight of her nipple through the sheer material of her bra.

She holds her breath as he strips her down. It’s erotic, the primal way he slowly undresses her. Her bra lands on a chair. Then he’s on his knees, slipping off her boots, reaching up to untie her sarong.

It falls to the floor in a puddle of silk. Pleasure heats her core.

His big hands travel up her thighs. His warm breath pulses. “I’ve been wanting a closer look at these.” He sounds mystified. It’s one of the sexiest sights she’s seen, him exploring the roses, the vines, the lilacs on her thighs, before dipping his head to kiss his way up her legs.

One kiss against her lips. Then he stands and takes a step back.

“Fuck.” Nathaniel takes her in, looking like he’s been sucker punched.

Ash flushes, feeling vulnerable and sexy under his admiring stare.

“Do you know?” he rumbles, blue eyes shining with a gleam of lust, as he moves toward her, “how goddamn beautiful you are?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she breathes out as her heart slams against her ribs. “Especially into my bed. ”

“So fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs, taking her in his arms. “My morbid little beauty.”

She smiles, liking that.

He slides his hand to her hip and backs her up to the bed. And then she’s flat on her back, naked, and Nathaniel’s back on his knees. He parts her thighs.

“Twice in one day.” She lifts her head, takes in his smirking, gorgeous face. “You’re spoiling me.”

“Get used to it.”

Briefly, he ghosts his lips over the inside of one thigh. Then the other. Her pussy throbs. He licks over her damp slit, and a whimper escapes her.

He drapes her thighs over his shoulders. Tugs her close. Let’s out a ragged moan. “Jesus. You’re so wet.”

“Ugh,” she groans, latching on to his hair with one hand. “Please don’t use this against me.”

He chuckles. “Tell me that again tomorrow.”

“Asshole.”

“Ash.” His voice is hungry. Faintly amused. “Shut up and let me fucking taste you.”

Nathaniel twists the tip of his tongue against her clit. Ash gasps. The sound transforms quickly into a moan. That sweet spot detonated.

With his hungry mouth, he takes his time and teases her. Alternates his tempo. Slow, then fast. Honeyed and heated. He eats her deep and rhythmically.

Her face heats, her breasts. Her hips twist and buck, but he holds her to the bed. So close, so close to teetering over the brink, that fine line of excitement, lust and desire.

“Nathaniel,” she cries out, twisting his hair in her fingers. The pit of her back arches. “Faster. Just like that.”

He flicks his tongue over her clit, that tight bundle of joy. And then every one of her nerve endings liquefies. There’s a rush of heat as bliss blossoms over her. Her lower body rockets off the bed as she comes. A beautiful ache of surrender.

Finally, he gives her one last lick. Pulls back.

Ash lies prone, hand to her heart, certain she’s taken half of Nathaniel’s hair with her.

His grinning face appears above her. “You like to push? Well, so do I.” He holds her jaw, keeps his eyes locked with hers. “I like you on edge, Ash. I like knowing I made you come.”

Breathing heavily, she blinks up at him. “It’s supernatural. Your arrogance.”

“And you are so very lovely and wicked.”

All she can do is shakily push herself to sitting. It’s what he’s reduced her to. A whining, trembling woman. But it sure felt fucking good.

But when he reaches for his zipper, her senses return. Her strength. She grasps it first. Her turn to see him naked. It’s only fair. This beautiful, jerky specimen of a man.

Smile vicious, hands trembling, she slides his pants and boxers off as one.

“Holy fuck,” Ash breathes when she gets a look at his thick, impressive cock. Tessie was right. It is unholy. Good for her. If she’s lucky, he’ll plow into her like a monster truck.

And then her eyes lift.

Holy shit.

His body is incredible. Pure power. Well-defined contours, the V of his hips, golden skin and his hands. Her favorite part of Nathaniel Whitford. Big, long-fingered, graceful hands. Lifesaving, waterfall-fingering hands.

She really, really wants him on top of her.

But first…

She grasps his cock. Strokes. His eyes turn primal. She likes the weight of him. The pulse.

She repositions herself so she’s on her knees in front of him. She swallows him down. Relishes the groan he emits. The taste of him is heady, making her brain fuzzy.

Heavy-lidded, she peers up at him. Swirls her tongue around the tip of his cock. Pulls back.

At the loss, he curses, squeezes his eyes shut. Clenches that strong jaw. His entire body is tense as a whip. He’s losing control, and it feeds her hunger.

Then he takes her chin hard between his fingers, stilling her. Traces her lower lip with one thumb. When he pulls it back, it’s stained in red lipstick. His frame shudders. “So it does come off.” He sounds pleased.

“Only for you,” she purrs.

“I want to fuck you, Ash.” A tortured breath falls from his lips. “I need to.”

She gives his cock one last leisurely lick, then pulls back. “Yes.”

His gaze blazes. “Right now.”

“Hold, please.” With trembling hands, she stands, grabs her phone and swipes it against her sensor. Please, please, please, please.

Nathaniel waits patiently, chest heaving, eyes watching her every move.

Relief blasts through her. The sex gods must be smiling on her tonight, because her blood sugar is perfect.

She turns to him. Her pussy is throbbing again. “All good.”

He gives his shaft a stroke, making it spring up harder. “Any way you want, Ash.”

“I love ladies’ choice,” she growls, his words spurring her on.

She launches herself at him. The backs of his legs hit the mattress. He falls onto the bed, taking her with him.

Ash lays a hand on his golden, muscled chest. “We can’t get caught.”

That flash of a smirk. “I practically own the hotel, remember?”

“Show-off.”

He looks at her, pensive. “You okay with this?”

“Yes. I just haven’t been—” Ash hesitates, searching for the right words. Touched, wanted, loved in forever. Instead, she says, “With anyone for a long time.”

“No judgment. I’ve been on an oil rig sex sabbatical for God knows how long.” He sits up on his elbows. “Condom?”

“I’m on birth control.”

With a thick swallow, he studies her. Then, without words, he gently lays her down. “Like this?” He hovers over her, strong body braced.

Lust surges through her bloodstream. “Yes.”

He grips his cock and guides it between her legs. He nudges at her slick entrance and then pushes inside. Ash gasps. Not because of the hardness of having him inside of her. But because of the way it feels. What it means.

Visibly affected, Nathaniel throws his head back and groans. “Fuck,” he pants, thrusting hard.

“Fast as you can,” Ash pleads, scratching her nails down his sinewy back. She’s already bucking. So eager it’s criminal. “Fast, Nathaniel. Don’t stop, or I’ll kill you.”

“Scratch me up, Ash,” he grits out, his eyes flaring. “That’s right. Fucking wreck me.”

Ash whimpers. Her core throbs in urgency.

His mouth captures hers. Lord Jesus, rapture her now. She can’t stop kissing him, fucking him, wanting him.

Nathaniel pumps into her. He bears down. Interlacing their fingers, he lifts her arms above her head. Then he sucks one nipple into his mouth.

Ash writhes anxiously. Desperately. And she doesn’t even care. Fuck it. The end of the world couldn’t stop her.

“I like the noises you make.” His rough voice sends a shiver through her. But his words are like silk draped over her skin. “In fact, I fucking love them.”

His encouragement, his praise, is pure adrenaline surging through her veins. “Oh,” she purrs, lengthening beneath him. Closer to climax. Closer to heaven .

“Fuck,” he blasts. He rears back and slams into her again. Harder. Faster. Over and over.

“Yes,” Ash moans. “Yes.” Her heart’s ready to burst out of her chest.

It builds in them. Release. It ignites in the tips of her toes, her core, her soul. Warmth like a sunrise. A golden thread.

It snaps.

And then she’s falling. Shattering. Crying out. Trembling her release.

Nathaniel’s not far behind. He roars as he erupts, rocking slower and slower against her.

Then, silence. He stays buried within her. “Ash,” he breathes, pressing himself in deeper to kiss her neck. To tuck her against him.

She kisses his brow, swiping at a sweaty lock of that honey-gold hair. “I hate you,” she whispers, ludicrously exhausted yet obscenely content.

He smiles against her throat. “Little liar.”

Ash snuggles into Nathaniel’s arms. The action hesitant, strange. The wall around her heart lowered and unguarded. And yet she’ll allow it.

For just one night.