Page 20 of Love Starves

There's no insinuation that we'll be having sex after this, nor that he expects it. Maybe part of his apology was this dinner, yeah, but the other I'm beginning to feel like he knew I'd been feeling lonely without them. Which is just crazy talk. Wanting to erase those thoughts, I raise my glass for him to fill it and bring it to my lips after a quick toast in the air to him.

Three more full glasses in, and I'm grateful Nick was gracious enough to offer the spare bedroom for the night. Though, as it turns out, he'd meant, in true gentlemanly fashion, that he was taking the guest room and allowing me to stay in his master suite. If I wasn't so tipsy and stumbling around badly enough to require the removal of my heels, I'd have taken a moment to appreciate the dark-plum tones in the room. Such as the thick duvet tucked neatly on top of the same color sheets in a massive, modern-style bed with no posts. Or the canvas print hanging above it, depicting an iced-over lake and a forest of purple-leaved trees. There's other matchy aesthetic things around the room, but I'm lucky enough to even make it to the bed before falling face-first into the soft material that has a rich undertone scent of amber mixed with freshly washed laundry and the distinct smell of a man.

Bunching it in my fist, I bring it to my face and take a solid breath in. Somewhere close, I'm aware of Nick saying goodnight and shutting the door, but I'm pretty sure my eyes fall closed before it does.

When I wake, it’s to a small puddle of humiliating drool. One of the main reasons why I swore off drinking more than one glass of wine, and thatonewas intended for social situations only. Rolling over, I glare at the ceiling like it's singlehandedly responsible for my current state. Headache. Check. Bladder full to bursting. Check. Mouth as dry as the Mojave Desert. Check. Huge lump of shame for how I handled Nick's family revelation last night. Double check. I think I'd have probably thrown his ass out if he'd cracked a joke like I did. Yet, here I lay across his heavenly soft, plum-colored duvet while he's off in another room somewhere sleeping alone.

Popping up on my elbows, the first thing I notice is that it's still dark enough outside that the city lights are still alive and glowing through the glass. I glance over to the clock on the bedside table and see that it's only two in the morning. Knowing I'll never get back to sleep anyway, I push to my feet, hating the pounding on my skull almost as much as the sandpaper my tongue has turned into. Once I'm in the lavish bathroom, I take a minute to snoop around after taking care of business. I find a few wrapped toothbrushes under the sink and figure Nick won't mind if I use one. It's not until I'm halfway done brushing when it hits me as to why he'd keep so many spares down there. Jealousy rears its ugly head again, and I shove it back down out of reach. More than likely, they're for if he has the guys over. At least that's what I'm going to keep telling myself.

A quick look in the mirror has me cringing hard. At least he wasn't in here to see this part, even if he had to deal with my wine drunkenness. I can't do anything about the dark circles beneath my slightly puffy eyes, but I splash cold water on my face and use a tissue to wipe the black eyeliner that's left a track down my cheek. Presentable under sleepover circumstances, I backtrack into the bedroom. Now, normally, I wouldn't go snooping into people's shit because I'd expect the same courtesy. Of course, that's on a day when my dress doesn't feel like it was starched and formed around my body. Surely, Nick won't mind if I borrow a tee shirt to slip into, and thankfully, I don't find anything naughty that I'm not supposed to in the first two drawers I open to find one.

Basic necessities and comfort taken care of, my eyes wander around the room in search of something before my brain can even catch up to what I'm looking for. Then they find it. Nick must've brought my handbag and phone in here before going to bed. Without really thinking about it, I grab my phone and drag the pretty duvet off the bed over to the corner by the windows. I wrap myself up like a standing burrito before sinking down to the floor. Which is where I sit for the next two hours reading the book that got picked for the club's next meeting.

By the time I'm finished, I'm left with an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Locking my phone and tossing it away from me, I let my gaze roam over the city lights that'll soon be dull compared to the sun that'll rise and blot them out. Stupid book makes it sound so fucking reasonable for more than two people to be in a relationship together.

How is that even possible without jealousy and rage?Even as I ask myself the question, I feel like the answer has been in my face this entire time. Sex is always said to complicate things, so what if we've already got the hardest part locked down? That would mean I'd actually have to let them in beyond the sex, and that's not going to be an option either, making this inner debate pointless. No, we stick to what we're good at where we are.

Standing and letting the duvet puddle at my feet, I step over it and tiptoe out of the room. Everything sits as I remember it, pre-two wine bottles. The only exception being the food has now been cleared off the table as though it was never there at all. Nick said he said a guest room, but that bitch must be hidden behind a secret bookcase or something because I'm not seeing any other doors. It takes me at least five minutes of maneuvering around in the dim light to find it tucked away in the corner of the den space. There's no point in knocking since it's dead middle of the night, so I don't bother.

Nick is laid face down on another modern-style bed against the back wall. The tanned naked skin of his back appears to glow even in the low lighting. Against all manly stereotypes, he isn't snoring. As a matter of fact, it'd be hard pressed to imagine him alive at all if his body wasn't rising and falling with each breath.

Sneaking to his side, I brush my fingertips down the muscles in his back, whispering, "Nick."

A sleepy noise spills from his lips before realization dawns in his expression. "Blythe? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I tell him just as quietly as I wrap my fingers around his hand and pull gently. "Come on."

There's no hesitation, nor does he ask any more questions. I take in as much as my brain will allow without melting as he scoots from beneath the covers to standing in nothing other than a pair of black Calvin Klein briefs, wiping sleep out of his eyes with his hand that isn't currently being squeezed by my own. Heat stirs in my chest and works its way down between my thighs as our last encounter replays in my head. I'm aware firsthand how those muscles flex beneath my touch as he takes me, and the mere thought makes me want to shove him back down and ride him until the sun comes peeking over the horizon.

Sticking to my original plan for waking him, I drag us toward the master suite at a much faster pace than I left it. To his credit, Nick still doesn't ask any questions. Even as he notices the nest I've made with his expensive duvet in the corner, which is directly where I lead us. Spinning on my heel to face him, I trace a featherlight touch up to his shoulder starting at the happy trail that leads down into those Kleins. I push down gently with him getting the hint easily and dropping to a sitting position on the mass of purple material at our feet.

"This wasn't the idea, beautiful," he says, glancing up to find my gaze. It could just be the fake lighting seeping through the glass at his back, but I can swear I see the physical change that overtakes his expression as he notices I'm no longer in my dress but one of his shirts instead. Swallowing hard like he did at dinner, in a huskier tone, he adds, "This really was just an apology for being an ass. There weren't any expectations for anything more than dinner."

"Maybe this is my apology," I reply quietly, reaching out to stroke my palm down his cheek. I don't know what causes the honesty to slip out, but it does, nonetheless. "I shouldn't have laughed at dinner. You let me in on a secret and I was rude and disrespectful. Hell, if any of us have parental issues that are ludicrous, it's definitely me."

Between the lingering wine, candor of the moment, and the memory of the book's words still flowing through me, it makes me do something I shouldn't. Something against the rules. Hooking my hand around the back of his neck, I lean down and press our lips together. His are full and warm against mine. It's been too damn long since I've kissed anyone.

Surrendering complete control, he doesn't try to lead. Instead, I'm the one who teases the seam of his lips with my tongue, begging for entrance. Something I don't have to fight for as they part, and I get my first taste of him. It's kind of unbelievable I added kissing into the rules. The whole idea was to keep the intimacy separate from the lust so that feelings didn't get involved. I'll be the first to confess the idea was a terrible one. Just maybe not out loud and certainly not to Giovanni.

Nick tastes minty like toothpaste that mixes with a deeper amber flavor seeping through my nose as I breathe around our kiss. Dropping to my knees, I straddle his lap while his hands find my hips tightly enough to do nothing other than hold me in place. I let my own wander from where they're grasping the dark feather-soft hair at the back of his head down to his shoulders and then chiseled chest and back up again. Going weeks without not just sex but the odd contact high it gives me makes my chest feel like its slowly being filled with concrete.

In hopes to avoid the panic attack trying to break free, I whip Nick's shirt up and over my head, breaking our kiss long enough to do so. I dive back down ready to beg for those lips again, but it seems he has other plans. My jaw tilts toward the ceiling as he skims his face slowly down the side of my neck, placing small licks and kisses along the way. Reaching down between us, I rub the hard length of him stretching the black material. A soft groan pushes out of his chest, and he pauses his venture south. When my gaze drops to his, I notice he's waiting for permission before touching any private part of me, which, of course, makes me want to do something stupid like chuckle but the urge to fuck him is stronger. There's nothing sexier about a man who's willing to submit to a woman all the while treating her like a queen. I mean, Crue's dominating nature doesn't even come close to second best and will set me off faster than I can blink. However, I find the delicate way Nick is handling my body is just as much of a turn on, leaving me to call the shots on where he's allowed to touch, and which rules are being broken.

A quick nod of permission from me, he buries himself right between my tits, bringing his hands up to cup the mounds that fill them nicely. I've always been self-conscious about them being too small, but the way Nick massages them reverently while adjusting his direction toward lapping at one of the nipples straining for his attention makes me forget all of that. Both of us moan at the first swipe of his tongue and I'm not sure which one of us is louder.

Letting him enjoy himself for a few more moments while I grow hotter and hotter for him between my thighs is no hard feat. Yet, I quickly find myself wanting more. Sliding a hand between us, I use it to tilt his face back up so I can snag another kiss from him. Severely distracted now, he drops his grip back to my waist and uses it to rock my hips against him. Obviously, that super tight control he's handed over is slipping and he can't help the movement. That makes two of us.

Using my body, I push against him until my tits are squished between us and he has no choice but to lie back or fight to stay sitting. Easily enough he chooses the former, bringing me down on top of him with a hand against my back. Pure instinct has me rocking against the rock-hard bulge in those Kleins. A million ideas sprout in my mind for how I'd like to have my way with him, but I'm too worked up, too desperate.

Scooting down far enough to drag the black briefs down his thighs, I waste no time crawling back up to his body to reach between us and guide him straight inside of me. Be it from the position or having not had sex in my normal time frame, I'm not sure, but he fills me in a way that has a gasp jumping out of my chest as I seat him fully.

Nick's head falls back, and I can't help but admire the way the dim lights filtered through the windows play across his skin. Pressing my palms against the hard muscles of his pecs, I raise my hips, dragging that beautiful cock of his out all while my walls try to greedily suck him back in. They needn't worry, because I'm not letting him escape that easily. I slam my hips down again until we're bumping pelvises and rocking his body beneath mine. I do this over and over, relishing in the feel of him. If it weren't for the duvet I'd stashed away here in the corner, he'd have a pretty little carpet rash covering that sexy back of his, and I'd be lying if I said the thought of leaving a mark of mine of any kind didn't turn me on even further.

"Nick," I whisper on a gasp as his hands go back to my tits and he pinches the stiff peaks of my nipples ever so slightly. "Fuck. I'm going to come."

I'd held off for as long as possible, slowing my pace when it felt like I might hit my orgasm before him. But there's no holding back now.

"Oh my god, Nick."

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