Page 49 of Brooklynaire
Whenever Nate decides he wants something—a Fortune 500 deal, a hockey win, a late-night pizza—he goes full steam ahead. And suddenly all that attention is focused on me. His mouth worships mine with such focus and hunger that it’s all I can do to keepup.
I do my best, sliding my bare toes across the arch of his foot, and sifting my fingers through his hair. It’s softer than I’d expected. I’ve known Nate’s mind for years, but his body is a foreign country I’ve never visited before. Somehow I already speak the language. My palms coast down his neck and over the muscles in his back. He’s solid under my hands. The cotton of his tuxedo shirt isn’t much of a barrier. I can feel the heat pouring offhim.
And we can’t stop kissing. It’s like a full-body kiss now—heat and pressure everywhere. Somewhere in the depths of my soul I’m still aware that I’m making a big mistake. But it’s the middle of the night, and Nate’s kisses are both hungry and reverent. And yet it’s wonderful in the same way as my Bloomingdale’s dream—pure possibility without the burden ofexplanation.
My judgment is 70% offtonight.
That must be why I decide to work a hand up under Nate’s untucked shirt. His skin is smoother than I guessed it would be. I run a hand up his side and sigh into his mouth. And when I trace a fingernail along the back waistband of his trousers, he shivers into his nextkiss.
That helpless reaction emboldens me. So I drop a hand to his very firm ass and squeeze. Even through two layers of fabric, I can feel that he’s solid muscle. And when I do this, his kiss stutters as hegroans.
I won’t lie—my newfound power is a huge turn-on. Nobody ever throws Nate off hisgame.
So I’m feeling really pleased with myself until Nate ups the ante. He drops his head and runs his tongue across the swells of my breasts. All my senses leap at the sensation of that wicked tongue so near my nipples. I gasp, and the gust has barely left my lungs when he cups one breast and pinches the nipple. And now it’smewho’s making poorly controlled moans and whimpers. He’s turned the tables on me, and I didn’t even see itcoming.
It’s a negligee I’m wearing, not a bra. So Nate is able to work the fabric downward until my breasts are revealed to him. The fabric corrals my boobs together, exposing my nipples. He admires his work with a dirty gleam in hiseye.
Forme. It’s mind-blowing.
I grab his head and lower it onto my breast. He groans, bending to swirl his tongue over my nipples, one at a time. Then he draws one into his mouth and looks up at me, eyes dark and full of lust. He gives a good suck and I shudder with anticipation. I can feel need pooling between my legs, and the sight of him mouthing my tits is almost toomuch.
Please, my body shouts.More.Now.
I might even say some of that aloud as I shove his suspenders off his shoulders, then reach for Nate’s shirt and tug. But it’s still buttoned, so this provesfutile.
Nate has some sympathy for the problem, though. He sits up, kneeling beside me. I scramble to a vertical position, too, helping myself to his shirt buttons. I expose a V of skin, my fingers working furiously. In the moonlight I can see the pulse jump in his throat. I stop working and put my fingertips there, just lightly. It’s humbling that I’ve caused his heart to race likethat.
Me.
I didn’tknow.
He takes my hand in his and lifts it, kissing my palm. The intensity of his gaze burns right through the darkness. I know exactly where this isheading.
So does Nate. He threads the lace of my tiny nightie between his fingertips and lifts the thing over myhead.
“Jesus.” Nate takes a deep breath and tips his head up, then lets it out in a hotgust.
During our long history together, Nate has seen me in many different states: bleary on red-eye flights, and drunk after a boozy business dinner in Paris. Once he watched me puke on hotel shrubbery after a grueling run we took together in Arizona during a tech conference. That wasembarrassing.
But I have never felt so exposed as I do right now. I give in to the urge to cover my generous boobs with twohands.
Slowly, he removes his shirt and tosses it on the floor. Then he covers my hands with his own, leaning in to kiss me. His thumbs stroke the backs of my hands, their arc whispering onto the skin of my breasts, too. I lick into his mouth and try to forget my self-consciousness.
We’re doing this wonderful, terrible thing. If I think too hard, I’ll ruinit.
Summoning my courage, I pull my hands out from under Nate’s. He makes a low, guttural sound as his palms cup my bare breasts. With a groan he pushes his tongue into my mouth, and it feels like a preview of comingevents.
My heart kicks with heady anticipation, and my hands begin to explore Nate’s hard chest. He’s nearly hairless except for the center of his tummy. My fingers crest all the ridges of his abs and then play in the little strip leading in to his trousers. Nate makes a desperate sound as I reach for hisfly.
The lastfrontier.
When I undo the button, he knocks my hand aside, lowering the zipper himself. I watch as he reaches in and takes himself in hand, drawing his cock out. I would have thought he’d be long and lean like the rest of his body. But when I reach out to touch him, he’s thick and hard in myhand.
That makes everything seem dirtier and more shocking. I don’t even know why. The head is dark and full, with a pearly drop on thetip.
Apparently alternate universesarereal. And there’s an alternate universe where you can slide your thumb over your boss’s cockhead and listen to him mutter a string of curses. I’m visiting it rightnow.
“Fuck, Becca.” He pushes me down on the bed again and kicks away his trousers andboxers.
