Before jamaica lane, p.24
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       Before Jamaica Lane, p.24
 

         Part #3 of On Dublin Street series by Samantha Young
Page 24

  A spark of uncertainty appeared in his eyes at my tone. But he complied, lowering himself onto the couch beside me.

  I lost no time in making my move.

  Straddling him, I gripped his hair in my hands and kissed him hard. His arms banded around me and just as easy as that, Nate took back control of the kiss.

  Fine, no kissing.

  Pulling away, I gently pressed him back with a hand to his chest.

  ‘Well?’ he asked, his voice low, eyes questioning. ‘What now?’

  In answer I began unbuckling his belt, quickly unbuttoning his jeans so I could slip my hand inside. Nate hissed as I fisted him.

  ‘Feel good?’ I purred across his mouth, a part of me floating on the outside of this little scene and wondering who the hell I thought I was.

  ‘What do you think?’ Nate narrowed his eyes, stroking his hands up my thighs and taking the hem of my nightshirt with them.

  I released him so I could remove his hands from me. Shaking my head, I tutted at him. ‘No touching. ’

  Displeasure darkened his eyes. He didn’t like that.

  Good.

  I tugged at his jeans and he lifted his hips, helping me free his erection. I didn’t bother pulling them all the way down. Instead I pushed down my panties, moving off him so I could kick them off before straddling him again.

  ‘Take off the nightdress,’ Nate insisted. When I didn’t move, he rubbed a hand over my thigh, his expression gentling. ‘Liv, I want to see you. ’

  I stilled, tilting my head to the side as I studied him carefully. ‘You do?’

  There was so much more in my question than I wished there was.

  And just like that Nate understood completely. ‘I want you. I want you to ride my cock and I want you to ride it hard. And then afterwards I want to sit with my friend, eat some food, and watch a movie with her. I’m not going anywhere. ’ His grip tightened. ‘Now take off your nightdress. ’

  His assurance made the anger slowly ebb away and as it did I returned to my senses. I flushed at my actions, at my demands, at my cold confidence. Nate relaxed too, with a smug aspect in his eyes when he caught sight of my blush.

  In an ironic effort to hide my renewed self-consciousness I lifted the nightdress up over my head and threw it behind me. I didn’t even get a chance to say or do anything before I felt Nate’s hand on my upper back between my shoulder blades along with the power in his body as he held me to him, his lips sucking on my nipple.

  I arched into him, sighing as pleasure instantly coursed through me.

  He played me for a while, thinking to make me pliant, but I still had his lessons in mind. He wanted me to learn sexual confidence, and although I had no intention of letting my anger fuel it again, I had every intention of retesting its waters.

  As Nate had already pointed out, I was an overachiever.

  I moved over him, pressing him back into the couch. ‘Put it inside me. ’

  His lips curled at the corners. ‘You put me inside you. ’

  So I did.

  I whimpered against his mouth as he sucked in a deep breath.

  And then I moved.

  I tried to go slow, to take it easy, to build it, but I was too impatient, too desperate for it.

  Too greedy.

  Too inexperienced.

  Yet Nate let me control it.

  And by his doing so, we both came hard but much too fast.

  I leaned against him, curling my arms around his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around my waist and held me close. ‘I guess I’m still learning,’ I admitted breathlessly.

  Hearing my uncertainty, Nate gently lifted me away, his expression sincere as he confessed, ‘No woman has ever ridden me that hard. Believe me, babe, I’m not complaining. ’

  Smirking through my embarrassment, I asked, ‘Really?’

  Nate grinned as he swept a strand of my hair behind my ear. ‘Really. ’

  It wasn’t until I lifted myself off him that the mood changed dramatically. A single expletive fell from Nate’s lips.

  ‘What?’ I asked, wide-eyed, glancing down at his lap to make sure I hadn’t hurt him.

  ‘No condom,’ he bit out.

  ‘It’s okay, I’m on the pill. ’

  He frowned at me as he pulled his underwear and jeans back up. ‘Liv, I only went to the clinic yesterday. I still haven’t gotten the results back. ’

  At that I pulled my panties up and hurried around the couch to go clean up in the bathroom. ‘I’m sure you’re fine,’ I threw over my shoulder, my heart pounding. I hoped he was fine. Shit. I shut the bathroom door and leaned on the sink, staring into the mirror in front of me. My cheeks were flushed and my eyes were golden bright. I looked thoroughly fucked. I was. And I’d been in such a rush to get a taste of what was clearly becoming an addiction that I’d forgotten about protection.

  Now, if I had kids, I’d forever be a hypocrite when I lectured them about it.

  I admonished myself to hell and back, and then it occurred to me that it wasn’t just my fault. Nate had forgotten too. I glared at the door and instantly grimaced. I could argue that he was supposed to be the experienced one here, but that didn’t really wash when you were twenty-six years old and knew better.

  Hearing the noise of the television, I wandered back out of the bathroom to find that Nate had the DVD playing while he was in the kitchen putting together bagels. Suddenly my stomach growled.

  Nate glanced up at me. ‘I’m sorry I forgot the condom. ’

  ‘I forgot too. But it’ll be okay. Right?’

  ‘I’ve never forgotten protection before tonight, so we should be fine. But we really need to be more careful. ’ He licked cream cheese off his thumb and turned to the fridge for some soda.

  Deciding I didn’t want another weird ending to our evening, I thought it best not to say any more, so I changed the subject. ‘What are we watching tonight?’

  Nate handed me my bagel and I thanked him, then followed him to the couch. To my surprise he sat closer than usual, putting his feet up on the table and settling in at my side. ‘It’s a musical. ’

  I choked on a bite of the bagel and quickly swallowed so I could ask incredulously, ‘Are you kidding me?’

  Smirking, he shook his head. ‘It’s a satirical musical. ’

  ‘Does that make it any better?’

  ‘Let’s hope so. ’

  As it turned out, the musical was pretty funny at first, but it soon started to go downhill. Clearly bored, Nate took a sip of his Coke and with his eyes trained on the screen, asked, ‘Would you rather live in a musical or a post-apocalyptic world?’

  I immediately smiled, so unbelievably relieved to be hanging out with my friend just like always and answering his weird questions. ‘What kind of post-apocalyptic world?’

  ‘Think The Book of Eli. ’

  ‘Harsh. ’

  ‘Aye. ’

  ‘So what kind of musical, then?’

  He rolled his head on the couch to grin at me. ‘Grease 2. ’

  I spluttered on the sip I’d just taken, and it took me a minute to breathe freely enough to ask, ‘You’ve seen Grease 2?’

  Some of the spark went out of Nate as he shrugged and turned back to the screen. ‘Alana made me watch it. ’

  Oh. The ghost in the room.

  Nudging him with my shoulder, I tried to pass over the moment and bring back his good humor. ‘I’m definitely going with post-apocalyptic world. Especially if there are men in it that look like Denzel. ’

  His left dimple popped. ‘I’m going with post-apocalyptic world too. ’

  ‘Because of Mila Kunis, right?’

  ‘Well, there’s that, but mostly it’s because I’m anti-violence. ’

  I wrinkled my nose in confusion. ‘I don’t get it. Post-apocalyptic worlds unfortunately tend to go hand in hand with violence. ’

  ‘Aye, but I’
m much more likely to be the one that’s killed in a post-apocalyptic world. However, if I have to live in Grease 2, there’s more than a ninety-five percent possibility that I’ll shoot the next fucker that bursts into song. ’ He glanced up at me, all deadpan. ‘It’s just the wrong life for a pacifist. ’

  Giggling, I bobbed my head in agreement. ‘We’re going dystopian, then. ’

  He nodded and then asked with a small pucker between his brows, ‘So why are you against living in a musical?’

  I shook my head, watching the couple on-screen take a shot at a well-known musical. ‘It’s not that I’m against living in a musical per se. I just like the idea of living in a post-apocalyptic world more. I think I’d be badass. ’

  I wasn’t looking at him, but I could feel his shoulders shaking.

  I slanted him an un-amused look. ‘Stop laughing at me. I would be so badass. ’

  ‘Badass how?’

  ‘I … I … uh … Well, I’m smart. And witty. I’d be, like, your witty, quirky, book-smart sidekick while you went around kicking every body’s ass and giving them judo smackdowns. ’

  Laughing, Nate relented. ‘Okay, that could work. ’ His eyes flicked over me with interest before returning to the screen. ‘You might be a bit of a distraction, though. ’

  Trying not to show how pleased I was by the compliment, I replied, ‘That could work in your favor. ’

  ‘Aye, if we cover your legs up. ’

  I nudged him with my knee and he casually put his hand on my leg, curling it into him. ‘I think someone likes my legs. ’

  He caressed my skin, almost absentmindedly. ‘They’re great legs, babe. ’ He reached for the notepad at his side. ‘This is quickly deteriorating. ’

  ‘The movie?’

  ‘Aye, what else?’ he murmured, scribbling something down on the paper. ‘Any witty comments, O Sidekick?’

  Musing, I stared at the screen. ‘There’s a crack about erectile dysfunction in here somewhere. ’

  He huffed in amusement. ‘And how’s that?’

  ‘Well, the plot and songs start off well, each one better than the next, until you hit midway through and realize it’s not going anywhere. This proves true toward the final half, where the plot worsens, the songs make your ears bleed, and all the anticipation just –’ I raised a hand and let it flop to make my point.

  ‘E-rec-tile dys-func-tion,’ Nate said slowly as he scribbled it down. He glanced back up at me with a smile. ‘Anything else?’

  13

  After we spent the rest of the evening joking around like old times, I felt much lighter when Nate left for home. Even though we made no plans to meet up again the next evening, I didn’t find myself worried sick over it. Nate seemed fine. I knew I was fine. It was all fine.

  Any niggling concerns were shoved forcefully back into my pit of denial.

  At work the next day my colleagues commented on my good mood, and not just because I’d been in an uncharacteristically bad mood the day before, but because I was in a gooood mood.

  ‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she got laid,’ Ronan joked as he stood beside me at the help desk.

  Thankfully, the wide-eyed look I got on my face was attributed to the fact that he’d made his crack in front of a student, who was now laughing his ass off.

  ‘Funny,’ I hissed at Ronan when the student walked away.

  ‘It was, actually. ’ Angus chuckled behind us.

  ‘You’ – I pointed at him – ‘are a mean boss. ’

  He laughed harder. ‘Oh, come on, Liv. You’re walking around as though everyone is farting roses and pissing champagne. What’s up?’

  I blinked rapidly at his observation, making what I’m sure was a ‘what the fuck?’ face. ‘Farting what and pissing what?’ I looked over at my colleague Jill. ‘Are you listening to this?’

  She shrugged, smiling. ‘He has a point. You’ve been telling every student to have a “freakin” awesome day!’ all morning. ’

 
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