SIMPLE MAN
AS THE CLOCK TICKED away the minutes until Nate showed up, I sat at my drafting table with a fresh sheet of paper and a piece of charcoal. My eyes were closed so I could focus on my subject matter. I’d cranked up one of my playlists on Spotify for inspiration. A cover of “Simple Man” by Lynyrd Skynyrd was currently playing on repeat. Shinedown’s rendition stirred my emotional side. The side I needed to capture the essence of the man I was sketching.
I’d spent the time while I waited for Nate, burning off my nerves and answering texts from the girls. My dirty dishes were shoved into my oven because the dishwasher was full. Every cluttered surface was now hidden somewhere. I was golden as long as he didn’t open a closet door or needed to bake a frozen pizza.
Halfway into cleaning, I realized I should have asked for the key to his apartment instead. I needed to hire a biohazard team—I’m exaggerating—to clean my apartment before I let him in, but I wasn’t panicking. If we stayed in my living room-slash-library or my bathroom-slash-um-bathroom, we’d be fine. I always kept those rooms pristine. Nothing but the best for my books and my body, I always said.
The heavy beat of the music pushed my hand to make wide strokes. I was drunk with anticipation, and a bit of apprehension, as the sketch began to take shape. Nate’s expressive eyes stared back at me as I worked on his heavy brow. Eyes were the window to the soul, they said, and right then I agreed. I could stare into Nate’s, even from a distance, and know what he was thinking. He didn’t hide from me. Hadn’t, I realized, from the moment I’d met him. I’d seen his interest in me but ignored it. Because I’d also seen frustration. Like he wanted something he couldn’t have. I’m not sure what changed for him, but I’m glad it did. I’d never have approached him. Never have put myself out there if he hadn’t scaled my walls and punched through them.
And now I was ready to take it further.
The Ice Princess was dead. It only took a day of Nate crowding me, showing me what a real man was for me to relax. I trusted him with everything I am, and that trust thawed whatever part of me that had frozen in the past.
I moved the chalk from his brow to where his mouth should be and began shaping the lips. His were full, sensual, the Cupid’s bow masculine and less pronounced than on a woman. I couldn’t help but bite my own lip as I used a finger to soften the bottom edge of his mouth. I’d replayed our last kiss over and over in my head, until the memory was so ingrained I’d be able to recall it when I was ninety. And I was waiting for those lips to break down the last barrier I’d held between us.
I leaned in and blew chalk dust from the paper then studied my work. Charcoal wasn’t my strength as an artist, but the subject matter was so inspiring my hands had brought him to life in perfect detail.
I studied him a moment longer as I waited for the man who inspired the drawing. Warm fingers moved the hair off my shoulder as I sat there admiring my work. I would have jumped if I hadn’t seen my door open in my periphery and Nate’s large frame move through it. I hadn’t heard him knock because of the music.
“Simple Man” kept pulsing through my speakers as I bent my neck to the side. It was a simple invitation to my simple man to take the next step. I was more than ready. The whole day had been a slow seduction. The constant touches and kisses. His body pressed to mine in the early morning hours. He’d spent the whole day teaching me to react to him so I’d relax. He was a masterful teacher.
Heat hit my skin moments later, soft lips caressed with just a hint of tongue until my body began to shake with need. I wanted his hands to explore, to prove to me no ice remained, but he kept them to himself. I arched my back when sharp teeth grazed my pulse point. My blood turned to liquid heat, racing through my body at the speed of light, burning me from the inside out. But he still didn’t touch me.
“Keep your door locked when I’m not here,” he whispered, then raised his mouth from my ear and froze. I glanced up. He was staring my drawing.
I looked back at it to see what he saw. His face was brooding and dark. Like the fallen angel he reminded me of. He looked down at me and I read awe and heat in his eyes. My heart skipped when his nose flared, his expression melting into darker lust. I wanted him to look at me like that while he was inside of me, so I took matters into my own hands.
Spinning my drafting chair on its wheels, I surprised Nate when I stood and reversed our positions. I straddled his lap before he recovered and buried my hands in his hair, slamming my mouth over his.
“Touch me,” I moaned into his mouth, biting and licking his lips.
Without hesitation his hands came up and gripped my bottom, grinding me against his erection. I’d changed into thin sleeping shorts and matching tank. My bra was gone and so were my panties, so the barrier between our bodies was next to nothing. And it was still too much. I rubbed my breasts against his chest, needing the friction. I wanted to replace all the dirty memories with fire and sweat. Erase them with strong hands that caressed me with passion instead of hate. I needed it all gone; every last bit of filth that had been left behind.
“Make me forget,” I choked out. “Make me feel beautiful.”
Nate’s hold on me tightened briefly then he stood with the grace of a cat. Keeping my legs wrapped around his waist, he stalked across the room and threw open my bedroom door. I’d attached my mouth to his neck to taste his skin, to breathe in his unique scent of musk and beer. It was addictive. I wanted to bathe in it until it saturated my skin, so I’d always have him with me.
He put a knee to the bed and then collapsed, rolling to his back so I was sitting on his stomach. Then he reached for my tank and peeled it off my body. My first thought was to cover my breasts. It was ingrained in me to hide, but Nate grabbed my wrists and stilled them.
“Don’t hide from me.”
I swallowed hard then dropped my arms to my sides. His darkened gaze burned a trail across my skin. He lifted his hand and drew an imaginary line whisper-soft down the center of my chest.
“Your skin’s like fuckin’ satin,” he whispered, amazed. Then he curled his hand around my neck and knifed up until our mouths almost touched. “You on the pill?” I nodded and licked my lips. He watched with hunger growling, “I’m gonna fuck you hard. Make you scream with release; then I’ll do it all over again until the only thing you feel is wanted. Fuckin’ beautiful.”
My breath hitched with lust and surprise, and then he was on me. My back hit the bed and arched when Nate’s tongue flicked a nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth. A quiver rushed to my core, igniting an ember. Stoking a deep burn beneath my skin that seemed to rush with pinpoint accuracy between my legs. From just his mouth, the beginning of an orgasm rippled gently through me. I’d never achieved release without a vibrator or my hand, but I wouldn’t need help tonight. Nate sucked deep on my nipple and the sensation had a direct pathway to my clit, causing a soft release that left me wanting more.
When I whimpered in surprise, he released my breast and moved between my legs. He placed his mouth over the core of me and blew hot breath through the fabric of my shorts until my hips bucked. He removed my shorts, and the whole act was a lesson in seduction. They came off slowly, his mouth teasing a path down my legs until they fell to the floor. But the patient lover disappeared once he took in my naked body. He pulled the shirt from his back, removed his jeans, then fell between my legs and buried his face in my heat. His hands curled beneath my bottom to anchor me in place, while I tried to remember how to breathe. The second his tongue tasted me, he grunted low in his throat. Like it brought him as much pleasure as it did me. Fingers joined his mouth next and he worked me with both to spectacular results.
I could feel an orgasm rising, waiting for me to set it free, but I wanted to experience it with Nate buried inside me. Wanted to know what if felt like to explode while feeling full.
“I need you,” I gasped. “Please, Nate.”
He licked me twice more then rose and flipped me to my stomach. I’d barely lifted my head before the head of his shaft pushed against my entrance.
“There’s no goin’ back,” he gritted out, his breathing deep and labored. “If I claim this body, I won’t give it back. You’re fuckin’ mine.”
I nodded that I understood. “Please,” I begged. I wanted to be his completely.
I’d barely released the word before he pushed into me an inch at a time, hissing when he finally seated himself to the root.
“Don’t,” he ground out when I tried to move. I was full. So full. Stretched to the limit. He was teasing nerve endings I didn’t know existed with his size. I had to move.
He breathed through a spasm wracking his body, then he wrapped an arm under my breasts and pulled my back to his front.
“Tight. Fuckin’ tight. Jesus,” he murmured huskily, then pulled out and slammed back in. My head crashed back against his shoulder and my eyes rolled back at the rapturous sensations flooding my body. I never knew. Never knew the beauty of coupling with someone you wanted so desperately, you hungered for it. It was magnificent. It stole my speech, but not my tears. I couldn’t have held them back if I tried. Being with Nate like this was beautiful. It washed away my past with every stroke. Burned through me until no ice remained. Only peace that I was right where I belonged.
I didn’t sob as Nate drove into me harder. With each thrust, I smiled before whimpering with need, tears falling gently down my cheeks in relief.
Nate put pressure on the side of my face and turned it, ready to capture my mouth. I smiled at him when I looked up. He paused at the sight, and traced the tears running down my face with his eyes.
“I’m happy. I’m not frozen with fear,” I whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I feel . . . beautiful. Please don’t stop.”
Pain seemed to cloud his eyes, then he slammed his lips over mine. His tongue possessed my mouth, stoking an already brilliant flame, then his hand moved between my legs and he began rolling my clit.
Between his frantic pace, the heat of his mouth, and the precision with which he worked my core, I came loudly, moaning deep in my throat as my atoms felt like they split in two then reformed behind my eyelids in a burst of fantastical color.
The instant I slumped against him, spent from the fiercest orgasm I’d had in my life, Nate flipped me around until I was on my back. Then he began the process all over again, without finding his own release. He buried his face between my thighs, and with a single flick of his tongue, I jolted with pleasure, sensitive from tip to toe. In a matter of moments, I was grinding my core against his mouth, whimpering encouragement. I wanted that sting of pleasure more than I wanted my next breath. Wanted to drown in the sensations like before. In Nate.
He sensed I was close, so he rose swiftly and entered me again. My head bowed off the bed as he sank into me with such controlled patience, I wanted to rip his hair from his head with frustration.
“Look at me,” he commanded. I lowered my chin and met his eyes like he ordered. Those brown orbs burned with intensity. I reached up and curled my hand around his cheek. He was so beautiful.
“You’re so beautiful. Inside and out,” I whispered.
His eyes closed at my words, as if he struggled to see himself that way. “You fuckin’ undo me,” he growled before pulling me up so our mouths touched. We shared the same air, drinking in each other’s breaths. When he was close to releasing inside me, he found my clit again with a practiced thumb. I jerked, milking his shaft with the second-best orgasm of my life, and he followed me over this time, a low moan my reward for what I hoped was a job well done.
We stayed like that for minutes: him crushing me into the bed and me stroking his back lightly as I relived the whole experience in a loop. I began to shake with happiness and the tears came back. I wrapped my arms around his back and buried my face in his neck.
“Thank you.”
He pulled back and looked down at me, concern etching the lines in his face. “Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head. “You saved me.”
Nate blinked, then rolled to his back, taking me with him. He shoved my face into his neck and tightened his grip, holding the back of my head so I couldn’t move, mumbling, “Christ. Fuck me.”
I figured that was man speak for shut up, so I just smiled. I felt too good to worry about his reaction. He’d just have to accept the fact he was beautiful to me, and he’d saved me. I mean, it’s what Superman does, right? Just like Devin and Bo had each been Superman for Cali and Sienna. Nate was mine. Leaping small buildings in a single bound, fighting the dragon in my past, rising to the occasion within moments of us finishing, if the hard length pressing against my stomach was an indicator. Which meant quick recovery!
Heck.
Yes!
Hope snuck a peek in at Nate and me, and fist bumped me with a huge smile on her face. Now I had ammunition against the Wallflowers!
My cell vibrated with a text as we lay wrapped around each other. I glanced at the clock. It was after midnight.
“Leave it,” Nate mumbled, teasing my neck with kisses.
My cell vibrated again with a second text.
I glanced at it and bit my lip. “What if it’s important? It could be Cali or Sienna.”
Nate sighed, reached over, and grabbed it, grumbling, “It better be one of the girls.”
“Who else would it be?” I asked, holding out my hand.
“Another man.”
“Another man?”
“I wasn’t the only one in that video today,” was his cryptic answer.
So he thinks someone will text me?
“Wait, have you been receivin’ texts from women?”
He dropped an arm over his eyes and sighed. “A few. Same with Bo and Devin. Women we’ve dated in the past who we haven’t spoken with in years.”
Note to self: Warn the Wallflowers!
“And you think because you’re receiving texts then I will too?”
His jaw twitched. “The thought crossed our minds.”
“And that makes you jealous?” I asked dumbfounded. No man could compare to Nate, but it gave me a squishy feeling in the pit of my gut that I meant enough to him he might be jealous.
He paused handing me my phone. “I’m a jealous-possessive kinda guy, and I doubt any man under the age of eighty missed the shot of your sweet ass.”
I rolled my eyes. I’d only noticed my rear because it was me, he was being ridiculous. I swiped my phone to life and accessed my messages, smiling at the absurdity of his jealousy. There were two messages waiting for me from a number I recognized immediately. I almost threw my cell across the room when it registered who it was.
Saw you on the news, baby.
You looked good.
I could feel my blood run cold. I hadn’t heard from Blake since I walked in on him with his ex, and now he was texting me? Because of the news footage?
Natalie really was in league with Bernice. Not only did she get all the single ladies (yep, pun still intended) to run interference for her, but now men from our past were also texting?
I glanced at Nate and smiled. I should have told him it was Blake and that he was right about the video. I really should have. But Blake was no threat to Nate and it would only upset him. Natalie would win if this caused a rift between us.
I deleted the messages and tossed the phone on the bed, making a mental note to text the girls in the morning. After Bo decked that creep from Sienna’s past last week, they needed to know they might get a few texts. They needed to be prepared because jealous Neanderthals were scary.
I glanced at Nate and shrugged. “Um. It was nobody. Just a, just a sales call.” At midnight? Lordy, that was lame. I was an awesome liar though, so I doubt he noticed. Just in case, I flashed him my most innocent expression.
He narrowed his eyes at me then they shot to my phone. His jaw ticked in an adorable attempt not to call me a liar. Did I say Neanderthals were scary when they were jealous? Scratch that, they were all kinds of cute.
_______________
My cell beeped an incoming text the next morning. I was tangled in strong arms and even stronger legs, my head resting on Nate’s chest. He’d kept me up most of the night. Apparently not knowing who texted me brought out the wild side in Nate. He was spent from showing me all the reasons why I should ignore future texts, so he was sleeping deeply. Not wanting to wake him, worried it was Blake again, I peeled myself from his body, rolled to my nightstand, and grabbed my phone. The text was from Cali, thank God. I looked at the clock. It was after eight.
Cali: You up for a little breaking and entering?
I hemmed and hawed over that for about a second.
Me: Does a donut have holes? A pig have wings?
The little squiggly bubbles started inching like a worm.
Cali: Donut holes don’t.
Me: And the pig?
She responded with an image of a flying pig.
Well, there you had it.
Me: What are we breaking into without permission?
Cali: Vacation rental agency.
Me: Which one?
Cali: Working on that today.
She was still looking for the mysterious Uncle Joe, but it was Saturday in the a.m. We’d texted last night while I waited for Nate about how to approach the rental companies for their client list. We’d come up empty. I guess she’d decided breaking the law was the best approach. But in broad daylight?
Me: In broad daylight?
I needed to loan her some of my Karen Rose books. Breaking and entering was way more fun by the light of the moon. In black clothes. And face paint. Don’t ask. SCAD Bees never leave a bee behind, either.
Cali: Negative. Tonight, while the boys are doing whatever boys do.
Were they doing something?
I glanced over my shoulder at Sleeping Beauty. His long lashes feathered over his skin like butterflies, and his chest rose and fell in perfect rhythm. He was still sound asleep, looking angelic. Or maybe fallen angel-ish with that dark skin and hair.
Me: What are they doing?
Cali: No idea. Bo just called Devin. They’re meeting at Nate’s tonight at 7.
All righty then.
Cali: So you’re really down for a little B&E?
Me: Like goose filled.
Cali: Ha! I actually got that!
Me: You should be scared.
She really should. My brain didn’t work right on a good day. In addition, to ADD, I had a condition called Sarcasize: the practice or act of being sarcastic. I had a bad case of it. Some might call it the DILLIGAF affect.
Cali: Gotta go. Devin’s giving me the EYE. TTYL.
It physically hurt not to respond. Physically. Hurt.
I eased off the bed and tiptoed to the bathroom, mumbling, “One-eyed monster got your tongue?” once I got there, so I wouldn’t burst with adolescent giggles in front of Nate.
After cleaning up, I tread lightly to my kitchen and proceeded to search for my coffeepot. I found it in my coat closet, of all places. Don’t ask. I was stressed.
The aroma of coffee must have woken Nate—that or my search was louder than I thought—because he pinned me to the counter while I scowled at my coffeepot. It was taking too long.
“Mornin’,” he whispered in my ear, nibbling my lobe. That one nibble went straight to my girlie parts, and I shuddered. He felt it and smiled, then skimmed up my legs and caressed my panty-less bottom under his shirt I’d thrown on last night. It swallowed me whole, which made me feel dainty. I’d always wanted to walk around in a man’s shirt after having mind-blowing sex, so I’d confiscated it. It was soft and worn from years of being washed, and it smelled like my favorite person in the world.
I kept my eyes glued on the slow trickle of coffee and held my breath as his hand trailed up my stomach then wrapped possessively around my breast.
“Is this my shirt?” His thumb stroked the side of my breast.
I nodded, and he nipped my ear.
“Got two rules for you,” he murmured. “One, keep your fuckin’ door locked when I’m not here.” Whoopsie. I was hoping he’d let go of that misstep when he came in last night. Apparently, Neanderthals forget nothing. “And two, we wake up together.”
His thumb grazed my nipple to make a point. He liked morning sex, good to know. I was pretty sure from the reaction my body had; I liked morning sex too.
“Okay,” I whooshed out when his other hand wrapped around my neglected breast.
When he kicked out one of my legs until I was open to him, I figured we were about to christen the kitchen, so I grabbed hold of the counter for balance.
Nate had come to find me in his jeans, but I could feel his erection against my bottom, so I dipped my knees and rubbed myself against him. He hissed in appreciation, grabbed me at my waist, turned, and lifted me onto the countertop.
“Fuck if I can go slow with you,” he ground out between clenched teeth, popping the button on his jeans.
I leaned forward and ran my tongue around his nipple. “Why do you want to go slow? I hear hard and fast is popular with the under thirty crowd.”
He grabbed a fistful of my hair and tugged my head back. “Hard and fast is popular with me.”
I licked his lips as he came in for a kiss. “Hard and fast is the new black. I love black. It’s all dark and broody . . . like you.”
His eyes flashed like lightning and he grabbed me at the waist and jerked hard toward his erection. I wrapped my legs around his waist and lifted so he could plunge deep inside me and give us both what we wanted. The head of his shaft was right where I wanted it, but he paused and looked toward my door. I heard it then. Footsteps outside on the landing, heading straight for my door.
Someone knocked, the sound reverberating through my apartment, then a male voice I recognized called out, “Poppy?”
“This isn’t happenin’.”
Another knock. “Pop, baby, you in there? I texted last night, but you didn’t answer.”
Nate was glaring at the door. At the word baby, he stiffened, but his face blanked in front of my eyes when he heard Blake say he’d texted. He started to pull away from me, both physically and mentally, and I could have kicked myself for not telling him. I knew I should have. Knew when I lied I shouldn’t have. How did I fix this?
“Nate, I . . .”
Another flipping knock sounded at the door.
Why wouldn’t he go away?
A shudder rolled through Nate’s body, and he closed his eyes. “Sales call?” he murmured softly. Deadly. Referring to my excuse for the text messages.
“I knew you’d be mad. I was trying to avoid—”
He grabbed my hips and plunged inside me without warning.
I gasped in surprise but wrapped my legs around his waist.
“Who’s at the door, Kitten?”
He wasn’t pounding into me like he’d threatened a moment before, his strokes were controlled, slow. His hips teasing me as they circled to draw out the torture.
“My ex,” I answered, trying to draw his mouth to mine.
He pulled his head back so I couldn’t reach him.
“The guy who fucked you over?” he asked like rolling thunder, deep and low. “The guy who took your innocence then crawled inside another woman?”
My eyes shot to his at his anger. They were blazing. He no longer looked like a fallen angel but the angel of death. I swallowed and nodded. “I should have told you.”
“You should have told me,” he agreed, then pulled out and slammed back in.
“I’m sorry,” I whimpered. “I was tryin’ to avoid—”
His hand shot out and he grabbed my neck, pulling me up against his chest. He stopped less than an inch from his mouth. “Then scream my name while he listens.”
I never got a chance to respond. Nate kissed me so deeply my head spun. When he released me, the torturous pace stopped. He planted his hand on my hip and drove in hard and fast until my moans were loud enough to be heard outside my door. I screamed his name when I came hard, my fingers burning from holding onto the counter. Nate grunted low in his chest, pumping into me three more times before spilling inside of me.
Our panting echoed around my apartment. I had no idea if Blake was still outside, nor I did care. If he heard, he heard. He was a jerk that I’d stupidly trusted. I was naïve but learned a valuable lesson. It wouldn’t be until I met Nate that I understood the difference between a man and a boy.
Men didn’t play games. They meant what they said and followed through. Boys never grew up. They could live to be a hundred and they’d never grow up or take responsibility for anything. Blake was a boy. Nate was a man. And I’d screwed up big time not being truthful.
“I’m sorry.” I was holding tight to him with all my limbs. I was afraid if I let go he’d slip through my fingers. “I won’t fib again.” I thought about that and figured that was a fib. “I won’t fib again about another man’s attention.”
He pulled back and grinned, then kissed me hard, deep, and really wet. It was a thank you kiss.
“I need a shower now.”
He scanned his crumpled T-shirt. “Keep my shirt on.”
I looked down at it. It was a white Jacobs’ Ladder tee. It was huge since he was huge. Why did he care if I changed? “Is me wearin’ your shirt a guy thing?”
He looked at the front door. “It’s a jealous-possessive Nate thing.” He withdrew from my body and buttoned his jeans. Then he headed for my front door.
“Nate!” I jumped down and rushed around the counter. He threw open the door just as I reached him. I jumped in front of him, blocking his path. Blake, the idiot, hadn’t left and somehow Nate knew. Blake jerked his head back. Blinked. Scanned Nate’s impressive chest, his freakishly big size, and took a step back.
I pushed back against Nate to keep him inside and to keep him from killing Blake.
“I can’t believe you’re still here.”
Blake did that whole blinking thing again and then scanned both of us. “I thought you were watchin’ porn. I was waitin’ for you to open the door.”
Porn?
Nate leaned forward, pushing against my back so he could get closer to the idiot in front of me. I braced my hands on the doorframe and pushed back to save his life. “I see you again, I won’t be happy,” Nate growled. “No more texts. No more comin’ to her door.”
Blake swallowed and nodded in agreement. “Not a problem, man. A quick lay isn’t worth the hassle.”
What happened next was his own dang fault. I mean, who says that to a woman with a giant standing behind her?
I gasped, Nate lunged like a panther, and Blake squealed like a pig. I was certain I was about to see my first pig fly when Nate grabbed him by the front of his shirt and lifted him off his feet, bracing him against the wall.
I had visions of orange jumpsuits dancing in my head, sure Nate was heading to prison if I didn’t do something, so I crawled between them and put my hand on Nate’s chest. It was a tight fit, but I was desperate. Thankfully, Blake had enough self-preservation not to move. I had breathing room but that was it. “I’m okay. Look at me, Nate. I’m okay. He’s an a-hole, but I already knew that. You can put him down.”
Nate’s taut body relaxed a hair at my touch. I grabbed his face and tried to get him to look at me. His nostrils were flared, and his jaw looked ready to crumble under the pressure, but he finally looked down and met my eyes. His expression was murderous, so I released his face and rubbed my hand against his chest like I was comforting a child.
“Please, baby. Put the idiot down. You’re squishing me, and my lady parts are gettin’ bruised.”
He stared down at me a second. Then two. Then his lip twitched just a smidgen. He liked the idiot comment, I could tell.
A moment later, he dropped Blake where he stood, scooped me into his arms, and stalked back into my apartment without looking back. We didn’t need to. We could hear Blake’s feet hitting the steps like his hair was on fire.
Nate carried me back to bed and landed on his back, pulling me on top of him. “Since you didn’t let me beat the shit out of that asshole, I need to burn off testosterone.”
Worked for me.
I started to peel his shirt off, but he stayed my hand. “What did I say?”
I looked down at the shirt.
“But he’s gone.”
“Keep it on.”
I rolled my eyes.
See? Jealous Neanderthals were cute!