Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
My gut gnaws at my insides. Did I push him too soon?
I guess I’ll find out soon enough. For now I just want to rest here with him, enjoying the silence; or enjoying the calm before the storm, as it were.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I’m not sure when he left the bed. I passed out at some point after we shared that amazing experience together. It’s still dark out, though, so I can’t have been asleep for too long.
Wrapping the sheet around me, I climb to my feet and set out in search of Nathan. He’s probably upstairs in his room.
He isn’t.
Sigh.
The study!
I follow the dark hallway, my mind not on the possibility of ghosts but on how Nathan is feeling.
I tap lightly on the door but get no response, so, doing something I’ve never done before, I push the door open and peek inside.
Sure enough, he’s sat in his comfy looking leather chair facing the window with a small glass of amber liquid in his hand. He looks tired and worn, which isn’t surprising given the kind of activity we participated in. I’m shocked that he hasn’t heard me take a few steps into the room, although he does seem very lost in his thoughts.
Instead of speaking, I step in front of him and move between his parted knees. He still doesn’t look up.
“One of my favourite things about you is how kind you are, even when you don’t want to be.”
He doesn’t respond, only brings his drink to his lips and takes a healthy swig.
“And how good you are with Dillan.” He continues staring straight ahead, my covered navel the only thing in view. “And how intelligent you are, and how little you ask for, yet you give so much in return.”
A shallow breath leaves him as he places the drink on the desk by his laptop. He reaches for me and presses his face against my navel. The top of his forehead just reaches where my ribs join. I place my hand in his hair and keep hold of the bed sheet with the other.
The way he nuzzles into my stomach and holds me tight with his hands on my arse feels almost desperate.
He lets out a choked sob and holds me tighter still. “I can’t lose you. I don’t remember how to live without you.”
“You’re not going to lose me.”
“I will, if you find out the truth.”
“Trust me.”
“Trust me,” he whispers and I gently massage his scalp. “I can’t… Gwen… I can’t let you go… but you’ll make me.”
“Then don’t tell me,” I breathe, my decision set in my mind. “I don’t want to know.”
He looks up at me with red eyes and dishevelled hair. “What?”
I nod. “I don’t want to know.”
“You promise? You’ll never ask?”
And again I nod. “I swear it. I will never ask.”
He stands, his arm lifting me as he rises. I immediately wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. The sheet falls from my body, remaining trapped between his arm and my back.
“Tell me you love me.” He looks up at me, his eyes set and determined.
“I love you.”
His arm that isn’t holding me swipes everything from his desk. I hear the glass smash and the laptop thud against the floor, but I don’t care because in seconds he’s laying me on the long desk, which is cold against my back.
The sheet bunches up beneath me, forming an uncomfortable lump that digs into the base of my spine, yet I don’t care.
I care even less when Nathan kicks off his boxers, pulls off his vest and climbs on top of me. Seconds later he’s in me and is pounding me so mercilessly I slide up the table with each thrust until my head is hanging over the edge. It feels so good, too good.
Does this mean I’ve fixed him?
Or does this mean he’s fixed me?
Maybe it means neither; maybe we’re both just finally on the right course to healing.
As my orgasm rips through me and Nathan yells my name with his, I smile. For once in the past twelve months, I finally feel like everything is going to be alright.
“I know this is a little bit late to ask,” Nathan says, both of us lying in his bed, with me draped across his chest as he plays with my hair. Shifting, I tilt my head back and wait for him to continue whilst staring at his handsome face. “But you did start taking the pill again, right?”
“Definitely too late to ask,” I giggle, thinking back to our time in his office, then again in the hallway when we were supposed to be going to bed. Then again on the stairs, which isn’t as easy or as comfortable as it looks, so we moved it to his bed. I’m deliciously sore and achy and the bed sheet that covered the mattress is now in a heap at the foot of the bed. Somehow we pushed it off during our love making and I’m not embarrassed in the slightest. “But yes, I did.”