If This Was a Movie (Evergreen Park #2)

Chapter 30 – Nate

THIRTY

NATE

“It’s actually… not terrible,” she says with a smile, stepping around her place.

I don’t tell her I cleaned up immensely the last time I was here, throwing out anything that might reveal the level of damage. The pipe that broke must have been leaking for some time, making it more susceptible to bursting because there was a good amount of dried water damage in the area. I don’t tell her, of course, that the town came here a few days ago and approved the updates. Even though it still needs a good cleanup and some paint, it’s mostly done.

“What did you think I’ve been doing this whole time?” I ask with a laugh, and she shrugs.

“I hadn’t really thought of it. I’ve been a bit… distracted.”

“I like you distracted. But go, check things out. Just watch out for tools and whatnot,” I say, tipping my chin toward where she’s walking “There’s shit everywhere.”

She looks over my shoulder at me.

“Don’t worry, I’m a dancer—” Jules doesn’t finish her sentence as she falls forward, tripping on a box and catching herself with her hands on a sheet of plywood. Running over, I grab her and her help up.

“Are you okay?” I say as she looks at me with wide eyes. She nods.

“Yeah, I think I just wasn’t paying attention.” My lips tip up as I grab her hands, but my face moves from humor to concern when she flinches. Turning her hands over, I see one has a splinter. I move toward the kitchen, sitting her down on the kitchen counter to get a better look.

“I’m fine, really.”

“Humor me, okay?” I ask, turning to grab a first aid kit and fumbling inside to find a pair of tweezers, an alcohol wipe, and a bandaid.

“It’s just a splinter, Nate.”

“I told you. When you’re with me, if you get hurt, I take care of you,” I say, quoting what I said to her that first night we were together.

I take her hand again and stretch the skin of her palm so the splinter is clear. It’s barely in, mostly just sticking out, but still, I gently grasp it with tweezers and pull. Then I grab the wipe, clean it, and put a bandaid on the spot. When I’m all done, I lift her hand to my lips.

“My hero,” she says sarcastically. “You know, you seem to like this, fixing injuries and helping damsels in distress.”

I smile at the reminder of the first time we were together.

“Yeah, I guess. But only with you.” I move to get closer to her, standing between her legs. The counter brings her to the perfect height, and I fight the urge to think about possibilities as her hands move up, hooking around my neck.

“Is that so?” She asks with a teasing smile.

“Oh, definitely,” I murmur, then drop my head, pressing my lips to hers.

It’s not a gentle kiss, but an instant, all-consuming one. My mind loses track of time and space and common sense as an arm moves to her back, pulling her closer to me.

My tongue intertwines with her, tasting coffee, chocolate and her strawberry lip balm. She sighs into my mouth as my other hand moves to her hair holding her where I want her, need her, so I can take what I want.

She arches her back, pressing into me, and I groan, getting already hard at the small mewl that comes from her. I continue to kiss her, our tongues battling against each other like we can’t get enough, my teeth nipping at her lip, her breathing getting heavier.

My lips move to kiss down her jaw, up to her ear, her fingers gripping my hair.

“God, I can’t get enough of you,” I groan into her neck, my hand slipping up her sweatshirt and under her tee, only to find she isn’t wearing a real bra, just a thin bralette. My hand moves up, thumbing over the peaked nipple and dragging a moan from her.

“I need—” She starts, and I know I would give her anything, absolutely anything she asks. There’s something about her sitting before me on a counter just like that first time that has something in me snapping.

“I know what you need, Jules.” My hand moves to her knee, her leggings a thin barrier as I tentatively slide up, my thumb grazing over the seam. She moans, hips moving to get more and I smile, pressing my lips to the pounding pulse in her neck.

“You need me to play with you? Don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes, Nate.” My head dips, planting kisses along her neck, her head tipping to the side to give me better access. My thumb presses down on the seam right over her clit, her hips shifting to get more contact. “Oh god.”

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, aren’t you? I can feel it on my thumb, through your leggings.” I press on her center, pushing her underwear into her cunt and feeling her pulse through the fabric. My hand moves up, hesitating at the top of her leggings. “Is this…”

“Please, Nate. Please, please touch me. I need it.”

“You sound so pretty, begging for me to finger fuck you. Who am I to deny you?”My fingers slide under the waistband, right into her panties, until the front of my fingers rubs over her swollen clit. “Jesus, baby. Kissing me got you this wet, didn’t it?”

“Yes,” she whispers. “Take them off,” she says, lifting her hips, and I oblige, my hand moving to the waistband of her leggings and tugging them and her panties down until they’re around her calves.

I step back just a bit to take her in and look at my handy work, but a small growl comes from her lips as she reaches out, grabbing the front of my sweatshirt and tugging me toward her until my lips crash into hers. I let out a laugh as her mouth moves along mine, but she’s clearly past the point of joking and niceties. Her hand moves to grab mine, moving it down her belly and toward her wet pussy.

She lets go when the tip of one finger hits the top of her close-cut curls, and I take over, sliding along her slit slowly, up and down, then circling her entrance, not touching her clit. I tease her for a moment before finally sliding two fingers inside.

“So fucking perfect,” I nearly whisper as I slide the fingers out, then back in slowly, her head lolling back. I move slightly back to watch as I continue my slow ministrations, looking down to watch my fingers move in and out, feeling her pussy tighten around me. I continue my slow, and torturous pace before her hips buck, trying to get more, get my fingers deeper into her.

I chuckle, reveling in this. “My baby wants more, doesn’t she.”

“Yes,” she moans, moving a hand down her belly to try and touch her clit while I finger fuck her.

“No, no. Not until I say so. Hands on the counter.” She groans but doesn’t fight me, making me smile as I watch her hand move to the countertop, the back of her head resting on the cabinet behind her.

“So good, aren’t you?” I reward her with three fingers, sliding them in once slowly before starting to fuck her with them, curling the fingers and swiping over her swollen g spot.

“Fuck!” she shouts, making me smile.

“That’s it, baby. You feel so fucking good. I can’t wait to have you on my cock again soon.” The thought alone has me throbbing. I’ve been trying to take things as slow as Jules needed, but feeling her wrapped around my fingers, moaning my name, has me feeling suddenly impatient.

“Yeah. Yes. Nate, please, fuck me.”

I groan loudly, wanting that but knowing that’s not what this is.

This is making Jules feel good, Reminding her how fucking good we are together, and, admittedly, a bit of torture for myself. This is me telling her I can behave as long as she needs me to, even if that just means making her feel good until she’s comfortable enough for more.

“No, not. Not today. Not now. This is just for you.” She starts to argue, but then my thumb moves, swiping across her swollen clit. Her hips buck, a squeal leaving her lips, and I smile.

“Lean back,” I finally say, groaning when she plants one of her hands further back behind her on the counter, widening her legs to give me more room. She moans when I slide back in, hooking my fingers and hitting a new spot with the new angle.

“Nate,” she pants, and I can’t do anything but look at the beautiful fucking sight of her spread for me, my fingers deep inside her pussy. Her hips start to move, fucking herself on them.

“That’s it, baby. Ride them,” I say low.

“Clit,” she whispers. “My clit. Please.” Because she asks so nicely, I give in.

“You can rub it, baby,” I tell her, then watch her eyes drift shut as her hand slides down from where it’s been pinching her nipple beneath her sweatshirt to her clit.

She moans loudly. .

“Oh, god, baby, you should see how pretty you look. Your fingers rubbing yourself, me three fingers deep, your cunt stretch around them.”

“Nate,” she whines, clearly close to the edge, and I can’t take it anymore.

“Make yourself come, Julianne,’ I demand, watch her fingers speed up on her clit. “But do it looking at me.” Those eyes snap open, her pretty browns locking on mine, her lips parted, and then I feel it when her eyes stop on mine. Her pussy tightens, her entire body going still except for her hand that rubs harder and faster as she cries out, my fingers sliding in deep and pressing on her g-spot as she comes.

“Nate,” she screams.

I’ve never heard anything prettier than my name on Juliann Everett’s lips when she comes.

And as she pants my name with each small aftershock, all I can think is how I cannot wait to do it again.

And again.

And again.