“So, spill. What’s the deal with you and Nathan?”
Meg groaned and dropped her head against the back of the couch. She’d known it was too good to be true when Caro hadn’t brought up Nathan most of the morning. Her friend had come over shortly after the kids had taken off—Aaron to work and Emily with friends—after breakfast. Meg had thought she was in the clear, which she realized now was foolish, wishful thinking.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She turned her head slightly and eyed the other woman.
“I get that.” Caro nodded and sipped her coffee. “You do realize we’re going to, though, right? I’m mean, it’s happening.”
“Caro,” Meg sighed. “There is no ‘deal’.”
“Riiiiight. And that’s why you’ve been pining since you came back to work.”
“I have not been pining!”
“Pining, moping, brooding, gazing off into space then staring at your phone so hard like you could will it ring. All those things, my friend. All...of...those...things,” she drawled.
Meg scowled. She should have just taken the entire week off instead of returning for two days before the weekend. But she’d felt guilty for taking so much time off as it was. Technically, she co-owned the small consulting firm Scott had started with his sister not long after Aaron was born, and she could take off as much time as she wanted to, really. She knew she was appreciated as office manager, especially since the business was growing—enough to spark discussions on hiring another engineer to help cope with the workload—but everyone had encouraged her to take the six-week vacation. Hell, half of them had been in on arranging the gift, being close friends or, in Caro and her husband’s case, family.
So, she had no reason to feel guilty and go back to work right away, and if she hadn’t, maybe she wouldn’t be getting interrogated right now. She narrowed her eyes, and Caro just looked back at her and continued to drink her coffee calmly. No. This would be happening even if she hadn’t gone back to work. She was surprised Caro had waited as long as she had—making it all the way until their regular Sunday morning coffee “date”.
“I’m not some teenager with a crush or something,” Meg muttered then pinned Caro with a hard look. “You encouraged this. You told me to go for it, to indulge in a fling. Well, I did, and now, it’s over. So, I’m a little sad. That’s normal. People feel sad after great vacations, and when good things end.”
“Mm hmmm.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t sit there pursing your lips, acting like you know more than you know, going ‘mm hmmm’.” Meg shifted, curling her legs up on the cushion. “Such a know-it-all. Well, you don’t know as much as you think you do. Bitch.”
“I know more than you think I do. Whore.”
Grabbing her coffee from the end table, Meg took a long drink. “You know shit.”
Caro leaned forward and set her mug on the coffee table then clasped her hands together. “You decided you were going to go for it—have a hot little fling with a hunky, younger man. Which I heartily approve of and, yes, as your best friend, encouraged. You figured you’d sex it up London-style for the rest of your vacation then you’d come home and just slip comfortably back into your life. You didn’t count on developing feelings, besides the tingling in your lady parts, for the guy. So, classic Meg freaking out is happening. You’re thinking of all the reasons why it could never ever ever work with this guy—the distance, the age difference, maybe he’s not as invested emotionally, blah blah blah. How am I doing so far?”
“I hate you,” Meg muttered.
“No, you love me. You hate that what I’m saying is spot on. So, first question,” Caro said, leaning back, settling comfortably. “What do you feel for him?”
“Caro...” Returning her coffee to the table, Meg scrubbed her hands over her face to avoid her friend’s questioning gaze.
“Shit, you’re in love with him! I knew it was more than quick-hook-up feelings, but... You love him.”
She dropped her hands and let out a shaky breath, vision blurring.
“Oh, honey.” Caro stood from the chair and moved to sit beside Meg, pulling her in for a hug. “Don’t cry. Is it really that bad to be in love, again?”
Meg let herself enjoy the embrace for a few long moments then pulled away. “When there’s no chance of it working out, yes.”
“Why?” Caro’s hands covered hers. “Why can’t it work out?”
“For all the reasons you said. The distance. And that’s not just living a state away, for fuck’s sake. It’s a different country, different continent. Thousands of miles. And the age difference.” She laughed, or tried to. Somehow, it became more cry than laugh. “It’s more complicated than just him being younger. Though, twelve...well, almost twelve years, is obstacle enough.”
“How is it more complicated?” Caro urged gently.
“He’s...” Meg blew out a long breath. “You know I can’t have any more children. Even if I was willing to have another at my age.”
“Oh, honey,” the other woman said again, squeezing Meg’s hands. “And he wants kids. Shit. I’m so sorry.”
“He says he doesn’t,” Meg said without thinking. Damn it! She’d nearly had the unwanted conversation closed, and she’d blown it wide open again with one stupid sentence.
“So, you two talked about that, about a future?”
“He’s so young, Caro,” she said quickly. “He’s hasn’t found that person who makes him want to settle down and have a family. You should have seen him with his friends’ kids, though.” She couldn’t help but smile as she remembered, despite the ache that spread through her. “He’s so good with them, a natural, really. He’ll be a good father, someday.”
“But he doesn’t want kids. That’s what you said.”
“He says that now, but what happens when he changes his mind? I’m the one who can’t give him what he wants.”
“Do you have reason to think he’ll change his mind?” Caro asked, frowning. “Is the sort of man who says things and doesn’t follow through? Who gives you an absolute—because he said he doesn’t want kids, not that he doesn’t think he wants them, yes?—without thinking it through?”
“Well...no. I’m not saying he’s lying or that he hasn’t thought about it. I’m saying—”
“You’re saying he really doesn’t know his own mind. That you know better than he does, and as the older, wiser one in this relationship, you’re going to save him from his future self-inflicted heartache. Thank God, he has you to keep him from ruining his life. ”
Meg flinched at the harsh, biting tone. “Now, you’re just being a bitch.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes it’s the only way to get through to you,” Caro snapped. “Listen to yourself for a minute. Nathan is a grown man. Twenty-eight isn’t as young as you think it is. He’s not some teenager spouting off because he can’t fathom being a parent. If he says he doesn’t want children, why can’t you just accept that? Not all people are meant to be parents, regardless of how great they are with kids, you know that. I’m guessing he has his reasons—you know, besides just general lack of desire to procreate. Though, really, does there need to be more than that?”
Meg pulled her hands free from Caro’s grasp and wiped her eyes. “You always manage to make me sound unreasonable or some shit.”
“Only when you are,” she drawled. “Just like you do when I’m emotionally invested and can’t see stuff through the cloud of feelings and hormones and whatever else is mixed in. Honey, you’re in love, and you’re scared. Of course, you are, because love is fucking scary. But you’re grasping, assuming things, trying to convince yourself that you can’t have this.”
“I can’t. Why doesn’t anyone else see that?”
“Who else doesn’t see that? Nathan? You have talked to him, then?” Caro sat back, smug smile firmly in place.
“Yes, I called him. When I got home.” Meg shook her head. “I don’t get it. He let me go, let me get on the plane without a word about this...thing continuing, but then after, he’s all upset when I point out that it won’t. What is that?”
Caro shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t want to pressure you. Maybe he didn’t realize how strongly he felt until you were gone? I don’t know.” She narrowed her eyes. “If you thought it was over, why did you call him?
“Because he told me to,” Meg said behind her hand.
“What was that?”
“Because he told me to,” Meg repeated loudly. “He told me to, okay? So, I did.”
Pressing her lips together against a smirk, Caro shook her head.
“What? What is so damned funny about that?”
“Not funny. Maybe a bit amusing.” She reached over and grabbed Meg’s hand. “Honey, that right there—him wanting you to call him—that was your clue he didn’t want it to end.”
Meg snorted. “No, that is him being a good guy. Wanting to make sure I got home all right.”
“Please, if he looked at this as anything temporary, he’d have smiled and waved and walked away. He wouldn’t go with you to the airport, and he wouldn’t be insisting you call him. I could maybe see asking you to text. Maybe.” Caro shrugged. “And all of that doesn’t matter anyway, because when you did talk to him, he made it clear he wanted it to continue, right?”
“I think so. I don’t know. I didn’t really give him much of a chance to talk.” Meg’s face heated. “But he wasn’t really happy when I talked about why it shouldn’t continue and why it wouldn’t work.”
“Yeah, he wants it,” Caro drawled. “Have you talked to him since then? Has he called or texted or anything?”
“No.” Meg grabbed her coffee and grimaced as she took a swig of the lukewarm liquid. She set it aside again and faced her friend. “I don’t expect him to. He said he was giving me time.”
“So, ball’s in your court, sister. You need to make the next move.”
“No next move, Caro. It really wouldn’t work out.” Meg sighed, tired of having the glimmer of hope again and again only to have it crushed when she thought of all the obstacles. She couldn’t keep doing this to herself.
“Okay...” Caro turned on the cushion, pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged, facing Meg. “What’s the real problem here? Because you’re holding onto these reasons like they’re a freaking life raft. But what is the fear that’s threatening to pull you under?”
“Fuck you and your metaphors.”
“Quit being so dramatic, and I wouldn’t need to use dramatic language. Or if that’s too much to ask, at least be honest with me...and yourself. What is really going on?” She tilted her head to the side, nose wrinkled. “It’s not Scott, right? It doesn’t seem like that’s what it is, but...”
“No,” Meg assured her. “Yeah, after the first time with Nathan, there was a brief moment of... Not guilt, not really. Because I don’t feel guilty. Scott’s been gone a long time, and he’d be the first to tell me I was being ridiculous for feeling guilty for that.” She gave a watery laugh, thinking about the man she’d loved who was nothing if not practical in every way. “So, no, Scott or my feelings for him aren’t an issue.”
“Good.” Caro smiled brightly. “And he would totally give you shit if you used him as a reason not to be happy.”
“It’s not like I’m actively trying to be unhappy!” Meg protested. “I’m actually trying to be sensible, like Scott was, and not put myself in a situation of having my heart broken. I can’t do that, again.”
Caro opened her mouth, then shut it immediately. After several moments of silence, she finally spoke. “What’s scaring you about continuing to have a relationship with Nathan? Don’t over think it, just say what pops into your mind.”
Meg took a deep breath. “London was perfect. He made it perfect. But long-term, with the complications of real life and all that, it can’t stay perfect. No relationship can.”
“So, you’d rather have no relationship than a imperfect one?”
Meg shifted uncomfortably, chest tight and stomach rolling.
“You were happy, weren’t you? With him?”
“Yes,” she said quietly.
“All right, well, the way I see it, you have a few of options. One, you can take a chance, continue a relationship with him, and see where it goes. Two, you can refuse to call him and your life continues the way it’s been since you lost Scott. And London and Nathan are just happy memories you pull out every once in a while. Or, three, you don’t call him or pursue a relationship and focus on finding someone here and starting a relationship that doesn’t have all the issues you keep obsessing over. And you’re shaking your head, why?” Caro asked amused.
“I’m not... I don’t want to find someone else. I just want... Urgh.” She bent forward, shoved her hands in her hair. “You were right—I love him. And I’m not going be with someone else because they’re the right age or because they’re convenient geographically.”
She felt Caro’s hand smooth up and down her tense back and tried to hold back the tears that threatened.
“You said you were avoiding a situation in which your heart would be broken,” Caro started, voice low and calm. “Too late. You fell for the guy. And what you’re doing—pushing him away, not even considering giving it a shot—is a surefire way to get exactly what you’re trying to avoid. Honey...your heart’s already breaking.”
“Damn it, Caro, I was trying not to cry.” Her breath hitched as she sat up, dashing tears from her cheeks with shaking fingers.
The other woman lifted a shoulder, completely unconcerned. “Is he worth it? Worth taking a chance for?”
Meg closed her eyes, mind firmly on Nathan—his smile, his insanely hot body, the way he always seemed to know what she needed, how he made her feel, how she’d felt walking away from him, and how the thought of never seeing him again hollowed her out. Fuck, could she really live with that empty feeling without even trying to make things work?
“Meg! Is...he...worth...it?” Caro repeated slowly.
“God, yes,” she whispered. “He is, but—”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Caro wagged a finger at her. “No buts.”
“I’ll but all I want to.” Shoving at her friend’s knees, Meg glared. “What I was going to say, you bossy bitch, is I don’t know what to do. Not as in I don’t know whether to,” she took a deep breath and pressed her hands to her belly, “take a chance with this, but as in what do I do now? What do I say? What do I—”
Caro shifted quickly, kneeling on the couch, and grabbed Meg by the face. “What you’re going to do now, you neurotic whore, is get some more coffee with me. Then, we’re going to figure out a game plan for you. And, honey, you’re going to be okay.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She smacked a loud kiss on Meg’s mouth then jumped to her feet. “How can you be anything but okay, when you have me to figure shit out for you?”
“Bitch,” Meg muttered as Caro walked toward the kitchen.
“Whooooooooore,” she sing-songed in return.
Following her friend, Meg couldn’t hold back the wide smile that curved her lips. Even as her stomach clenched with nerves and anxiety about what would come next—the freaking unknown—she felt, for the first time since being home, that maybe everything would be all right.
* * * * *
Everything was not all right.
With a strangled groan, Meg pulled the vibrator from between her legs. She blinked back tears as she flipped the switch to off.
“Fuck!” she ground out and threw the wand across the room, cringing when it bounced off the door to land on the carpet. She held her breath a moment, horrified one of the kids might come to investigate the fairly loud thud. Because that was just what she needed—being unable to bring herself off wasn’t enough. Aaron or Emily walking in to see Mom’s fucking sex toy on the floor... That, that would be the icing on the humiliation cake. Thankfully, one thing was working in her favor, and her door remained closed.
She couldn’t exactly enjoy the relief, though, because relief of a different kind altogether was just beyond her grasp. And had been since she’d gotten home. It wasn’t fair. She hit the mattress with her fists, stopping herself from kicking it as well in a full on tantrum, but fuck! Her muscles ached with tension, and all she wanted was a nice freaking orgasm to relax her so she could sleep. And she’d thought, since she’d made the decision to call Nathan, the anxiety she’d been feeling the past several days would be gone and she’d be able to come.
She’d assumed that’s what was preventing it, because it sure as hell wasn’t the fact that she was already so conditioned she couldn’t without Nathan’s say so. She didn’t want to believe she was that dependent on the man, no matter what decisions she made as far as he was concerned. It didn’t stop her from trying to imagine his voice, his face...just him while she tried to find release. Which only resulted in skirting the maddening edge, teetering so close but never being able to fall.
Instead of the nice hum of a satisfying orgasm, she was lying here, irritated and tense, and the thoughts that had her reaching for the vibrator in the first place racing back full force.
Meg rolled over onto her back and pulled the blankets over her head. Maybe she could smother the never-ending loop of worries and insecurities out of her brain. She’d been fine. Spent the day with Caro, had dinner then vegged out in front of the TV to catch up on Arrow with the kids, and had been feeling pretty damned good about things, about her plans. Then, she’d gone to bed. And, her brain had come to life in the quiet darkness.
When she’d finally gotten fully on board the let’s-give-this-a-chance train, it had been evening—or the middle of the night in London. The last thing she needed was to start the conversation on a shitty note by waking him. Especially, when he had to be to work in the morning. So, she figured she’d wait until her lunch break as it’d be the end of the workday for him. The problem with waiting—it gave Meg’s brain all sorts of time to freak out. And her brain was very, very good at freaking out. She thought maybe it’d gotten even better with all the practice through the years.
What if he’d changed his mind? Logically, she knew he was giving her time, had said he was, but a part of her feared calling him, only to hear him say, “Yeah, sorry, figured out you’re not worth it.” The logical side reminded her Nathan wasn’t a cruel man, nor was he a fickle one. Less than a week wasn’t going to change anything.
But, sadly, the dark and the quiet didn’t feed the logical.
No, her mind buzzed, landing on the things that could go wrong. The things she’d clung to, just like Caro said, even though she could see she’d been doing so out of fear. The calm she’d felt earlier, underneath the excitement and eagerness, with her determination to take action and commit to a relationship with Nathan was quickly becoming buried in the anxieties and doubts. She knew those things were just preying on her sleep-deprived mind—she knew it—but shutting them out was no easy feat.
And she’d gone to her sure-fire way to ease a bit of tension and anxiety...and just ended up feeling emotionally and physically strung out as a result.
Shoving the blankets down, Meg glared at the clock. The illuminated 2:16 AM mocked her. She took a deep breath, tried to focus on relaxing her tight muscles. And only managed to ache more and become even more aware of the lingering slickness of her pussy as she shifted slightly.
She wondered briefly if Nathan had struggled with sleeping as much as she had the past week. Probably not, she snorted as anger surged. Irrational, maybe, but it burned through her, quickening her breathing with its intensity.
No, she was certain he wasn’t having a problem sleeping. Confidence wasn’t something Nathan lacked, and, in all likelihood, he was just biding his time until Meg called. Infuriatingly patient and so sure about how things would be. And he sure as fuck wasn’t having problems jacking off and being left wanting.
The unfairness of that alone fanned the flames of her irritation. With a huff, she rolled onto her side, unable to lay still—her skin too tight and agitation jittering through her. The pressure on her still swollen clit resulting from the movement stole her breath.
“Fuck this,” she gasped, sitting up.
She fumbled for her phone, pulling it from the charging dock on the bedside table. The screen lit up, and squinting against the sudden brightness in the dark room, she tapped in her passcode. It took her a moment to pull up her contacts then she stared at his name, heart pounding, tempted to just put the phone back and deal.
No. No, he’d told her she was his. He claimed her. Every part of her. Well, he could damn well deal with this part. She wasn’t going to suffer alone. No way.
She hit “call” and shakily brought the device to her ear. Squeezing her eyes shut, she listened to the ringing and wondered if it’d go to voicemail, already debating whether to leave a message if that happened. Just as panic started to poke through the anger, his voice—fuck, his voice—came over the line.
“Meg?”
Just that—her name—and Meg felt a tug low in her belly. One fucking word, and she was already stumbling back to the edge. So much for not being conditioned.
She heard a few muffled sounds then Nathan spoke again.
“Meg, love? What’s going on?” The concern in his voice had her stinging, and she sniffed. “What’s the matter?”
“Are you really serious about making this work? Making us work?” she asked quickly, pulling the annoyance around her tightly, shielding herself from the happiness that sprang forth just hearing him.
“Of course.”
No hesitation. No doubt. Just a firm, matter-of-fact “of course”.
“Well, you better do something about this, then,” she snapped.
“Pardon?”
“No, no I won’t ‘pardon’,” she parroted sulkily. “You’re over there all sure and calm and...you. Meanwhile, I’m here barely holding it together. I can’t concentrate, I’m zoning out at work enough that Caro’s giving me shit and prying, I haven’t even unpacked yet because I don’t want to think about what I left! And I’m fucking exhausted. I can’t sleep, and I can’t even...I can’t even get off, for crying out loud. And it’s your fault! I can’t even come without you telling me. Giving me permission.” She choked back the cry building in her throat. “You...you broke me, Nathan.”
Nathan had just shut the door to his office when the words—You...you broke me, Nathan—washed over him. Thank fuck, because he had to lean against it heavily as his knees buckled.
“Oh, love,” he murmured, closing his eyes a moment.
“Don’t ‘oh, love’ me!” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat before asking, “Am I yours? Is that what you still want?”
“Yes, it’s what I want.” Then, pitching his voice lower, he answered, “And you are absolutely mine. In every way, love.”
Her breath stuttered out, a shaky sigh. “As much as I know I’m a strong, independent woman—I’ve managed on my own for a long time and could keep doing it if I had to—I want that. To be yours. But I need...I need you to...”
“What? What do you need me to do, Meg?”
“You broke it, so fix it!” she demanded, and Nathan had to bite back a laugh.
He pushed away from the door and walked over to sit behind his desk. Mentally cursing when he saw the time—he had to leave to make it to a meeting on the other side of the city—and the hope of getting off to the sound of Meg coming for him died. So, instead, he leaned back in his chair and rested his free hand on the armrest.
“You want to come,” he stated simply.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Have you tried?”
“Only every night this week.”
“Tonight?”
“Do you think I’d be this pissy if I hadn’t?” she retorted.
“Meg,” he admonished. “A simple yes or no would suffice.”
“Y-yes.”
“Are you wet still?”
“Yes... Yes, Sir.”
“Reach down and shove your fingers into your cunt for me,” he instructed. “Don’t touch your clit. Not yet. Just fingerfuck yourself, nice and slow.”
Her whimper morphed into a low, drawn out moan. Nathan waited, cock twitching as he listened to her panting breaths.
“How many fingers, Meg?” he asked, adjusted himself.
“Mmmm, two.”
“You can do better than that. Another,” he demanded.
“Ohhh. Oh, God, Nathan, please,” she cried.
“Please what?”
“It’s been too long. I’m...oh, ohhhh... Been so close all night, and I can’t...”
“Please what?” he repeated. “Ask me.”
“May I come? Please, Sir. May I come?” she pleaded.
He squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head back. Widening his legs to ease the pressure on his throbbing erection, he tried to ignore the arousal pumping through his veins.
“Add another finger, and ask me again,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Oh, God. Ohhh,” she breathed. “Please. I need to come. I need... Please let me come, Sir.”
“Do you know why you couldn’t come before?” He had to work to keep his voice even as the sounds of her fucking her hand washed over him. “You were just chasing a physical release, but that’s not what you really needed. What you needed, darling girl, was to remember. To get through all the doubts and bullshit floating around in your head. All of that was making you forget again.” He ignored the whispered pleas reaching him, and simply raised his voice slightly. “You’re mine. You belong to me. Completely. And you need to please me. You forgot that, too. Do you remember, now? How good pleasing me feels?”
“Nathan...”
“You pleased me today, love. Calling me, telling me what you wanted, following my instructions. You’ve been a very good girl. And something else to remember, Meg.” He paused a moment. “Good girls get rewarded.”
“Yes,” she hissed, and he pictured her back arching off the bed as she fucked her hand.
“Touch your clit now, and come for me.”
He nearly creamed his pants, untouched, as she sobbed through her release. He took several deep breaths, struggling to calm down, her now soft cries making it difficult as hell.
“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice drowsy and thick.
“Always my pleasure to take care of you, sweet girl. Now,” he sat up, wincing as his hardness was compressed, “it’s very late for you. You need to sleep.”
“Don’t want to hang up,” she slurred.
“I know. Me neither,” he confessed. “But you’re exhausted and have to work in a few hours, and I’ve a meeting. So, we’re going to hang up, but we’ll talk very soon. Promise.”
“‘kay.”
“Sleep well. You did so well tonight.” He smiled at the happy hum he got in response. “Goodnight, love.”
“G’night.”
Disconnecting the call, Nathan stood and shoved the mobile into his pocket. He grabbed his bag and left his office, hurrying downstairs and outside where he knew the car was already waiting. He snorted when he saw Jack standing beside the vehicle.
“I thought you were back to working the office?” While he’d specifically asked Jack to drive when he’d brought Meg to the airport—knowing the two would want to have a chance to say goodbye—Nathan knew for a fact Jack’s brother had returned from his honeymoon and was back to work.
“Overbooked today, so I volunteered to lug your arse around.”
Nathan shoved past his friend and opened the passenger door himself, climbing into the front seat. Jack grinned as he rounded the car and slid behind the wheel. As he pulled away, he shot Nathan a glance.
“You were late. Very unlike you.”
“Meg called,” he said simply, knowing Jack would understand the significance.
“Since you’re not curled up, crying your eyes out, I’m going to assume the two of you are going to find a way to make this work,” Jack teased.
Nathan snorted. “We are.”
“And the plans you’ve made?”
“In place,” he said. “I’m meeting with Lara and my mum tomorrow afternoon.”
Jack reached over and squeezed Nathan’s shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing.”
“I know. Doesn’t make it easy.”
“No, it doesn’t.” He shot Nathan a look. “It’s awfully late in the States now. Oh, fuck, you guys totally had phone sex, didn’t you? Look at that blush. You did! Good on you, mate!”
“One of us did,” Nathan corrected. “One of us had a meeting to rush to.”
“Oh, poor poppet,” Jack drawled. “You want I should pull over, and you can hop in back? Tug one off quick before we get there?”
“Fuck off,” Nathan muttered, lips twitching.
“That’s the idea.” Jack nodded.
“Shut up and drive.”
Jack’s laughter filling the air, Nathan settled back against the leather seat. For the first time since Meg had left, despite his half hard cock and Jack’s snickering, Nathan felt well and truly relaxed, content in the knowledge Meg was his.