Текст книги "Lost and Found"

Автор книги: Kelly Jamieson

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Nate’s stomach rolled. “Uh…no. No, Mom.”

Still holding Krissa’s hand, his mother looked up at him. “But…oh.” She slowly released Krissa. “Oh.”

Nate saw the flush creep up Krissa’s face. “I’m married to Nate’s friend Derek,” she said. “Derek Hallson.”

“Oh, of course, I remember Derek! What a charming smooth talker that boy was. Still is, probably.” Mrs. Cowan chatted brightly apparently trying to cover her blunder.

“Yes, he is,” Krissa agreed. She glanced at Nate.

“I’ve been staying with them for the last month or so,” Nate told his mom.

Her brows slanted down. “Oh. You’ve been home for a whole month? And never came to see us?”

Guilt smacked him in the back of the head just like his mom used to do when he was a kid. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’ve had some problems and I didn’t want to be a burden to you guys.”

“Nate.” His mom’s voice was firm. “How could you possibly be a burden? We haven’t even seen you since…since Lauren died.”

Nate glanced around at the other guests. “This isn’t really the place to be talking about all this.”

“You’re right,” she immediately said, linking her arm through his. “Show me these pictures.”

So Nate led his family through the gallery, along with Krissa, talking about the photographs hanging on the walls and the stories behind some of them.

By ten o’clock almost every picture hanging had been sold. Nate’s mind reeled from the money he’d just made. Greg beamed and shook Nate’s hand vigorously as they prepared to leave. Only a few guests remained, including Nate’s family.

His mom still had the guilt trip thing down pretty good. “How long are you in L.A.?”

“We’re going back to Montecito tomorrow.”

Her face drooped. “Oh, no! Without even seeing us!”

Nate glanced at Krissa. “Krissa has business to get home to, and a husband.”

“Well, at least have breakfast with us. I need to know what’s going on with you…you’ve been so out of touch.” Her eyes reproached him, her head tilted, her mouth pouting. He couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m sorry, Mom, but we can’t.”

The disappointment on her face grabbed at his gut and twisted it.

“Nate.” Krissa spoke beside him, voice low. “You should have breakfast with your family.”

He glanced at her. “But you need to get back…”

“A few hours is no big deal. Go ahead.”

“But…you…”

“I can entertain myself for a few hours.”

“You’re welcome to join us, Krissa,” Nate’s mom said, her gaze moving back and forth between them. Krissa met his gaze and he felt her encouragement.

Nate wanted to say no. “Okay, then.”

They made arrangements to meet the next morning in the restaurant of the hotel where he and Krissa were staying. When everyone had gone, Nate turned to Krissa. “I guess we should go.”

Her eyes met his. He knew they were both thinking the same thing, both thinking about what was going to happen next. His skin tightened and tingled and his groin ached. Sex with Krissa had been in the back of his mind all night, adding an edge to the excitement he’d been feeling.

“Yes,” she said.

He let Krissa drive to the hotel, averting his eyes from glaring headlights. They let the valet take the vehicle and walked through the elegant lobby. The boutique hotel’s décor was retro-chic, with fifties-style furniture sitting atop shag carpet. Dark wood paneled the walls, and floor lamps with huge cylindrical shades provided ambient light.

“That was fun,” Krissa said with a sigh as they walked into their room. She set the little envelope she called a purse on the dark wood dresser.

“It was unbelievable.”

“Are you glad you came?”

He nodded slowly. “I guess so. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be. Except…sorry about my family showing up.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s nice that they came. Didn’t you know they were coming?”

“I put them on the invitation list, but that was six months ago. I’d forgotten all about it.”

“Nate?” Krissa perched on the edge of a chocolate brown tub chair.

“Mmm?” He shrugged out of the jacket, laid it over the back of another chair.

“Have you really not talked to your family for two years?”

“I’ve talked to them.”

She gave him a look, chin down, eyes up.

“On the phone,” he continued, undoing the button of the white shirt he wore loose and untucked under the jacket. “A few times.”

“Nate, that’s awful.”

“I know.” He removed the shirt.

“Why?”

“I just couldn’t face it all. After Lauren died.”

“But Nate…they’re your family. Family can help at a time like that. Why would you cut yourself off from a support group like that, when you were going though something so tough?”

Because…the words stuck in his throat. He stared at her, so beautiful in the glow of the floor lamp beside the chair. It cast a circle of illumination around her, gleaming off her dark hair, her glowing face, making her the focal point of the room. “I know it was wrong,” he said hoarsely. He ran a hand through his hair. “I had my reasons. Do we have to talk about this now?”

He moved closer to her. “There are other things I’d rather be doing.”

Her pupils expanded, darkening those green eyes watching him.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You are totally deflecting me.”

“Yes, I totally am.” He reached for her hands and drew her out of the chair to stand in front of him. Their bodies brushed together. She gazed at him wide eyed. “You look gorgeous. I love this dress.” He fingered the silky bow between her breasts. “If I undo this, will the dress fall off?”

She laughed softly. “No. There’s a zipper on the side. The bow is just for show.”

“Ah. I kept wondering about that all night.” He slid a finger under the top edge of bodice, felt the swell of her breast, hear her soft intake of breath.

“It was fun to get dressed up for a change.”

“Doesn’t Derek ever take you out?” He murmured the words against the side of her warm, fragrant neck. She shivered against him.

“Yes. Sometimes. Usually business things.”

He pressed his mouth there in an open-mouthed kiss, drew her flesh into his mouth in a gentle suckle. She gasped.

She put her hands on his chest, let her head fall to the side as he kissed her neck, shoulder, dragged his tongue across her collarbone.

“You taste so good,” he murmured. “And smell good. And feel good…”

She muffled a giggle. “Thank you.” She threaded her fingers into his hair and held his head as he kissed her throat. His lips paused over the pulse beating there, a quick excited flutter, her blood pulsing through her veins. He sucked the flesh gently into his mouth and she gasped. “Are you a vampire?” Her fingers tightened in his hair.

He laughed. “I vant to suck your blood.” He drew a little harder, but quickly released her, not wanting a big embarrassing hickey there in the morning for his family to see. They probably had enough ideas about what was going on between them.

He licked her throat, nipped at her jaw, drew his tongue across her soft bottom lip. A moan vibrated inside her throat. Her fingers scraped across his scalp, sending tingles showering down through his body like sparks. His hands cupped her breasts through the dress, the thin silk a fragile barrier between them.

“I was so proud of you tonight,” she said, head falling back. His hands roamed over body. “You’re so talented, Nate.”

“So are you.”

“No I’m not. I have no talent for anything.”

He drew back and frowned at her. “What? Don’t be crazy.”

She smiled faintly and shook her head. “I’m just being honest. You know me—jumping from one job to the next.”

“You obviously have a talent for what you’re doing now. Big new clients. Gemini. The city of Santa Barbara. Krissa, be proud of yourself, of what you’re doing.”

She stared at him wide-eyed. Blinked. “Thank you, Nate. No one has ever said that to me before.”

She had to be kidding. She was so smart and caring and warm. Everyone loved her.

He shook his head, kissed her tenderly on the mouth, trying to show her with actions the feelings he couldn’t put into words. He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her deeply, felt her arms slide around his neck. He wanted to be closer to her, as close as they could be. He shoved the dress up around her hips, and with his hands beneath her ass, he lifted her against him. She wound her legs around him, clutching his head as he carried her like that to the bed.

“Nate!” She gasped as he tossed her onto the bed and she bounced gently on the creamy duvet. Her skirt was up around her hips, exposing her long sleek legs and a flash of black lace panty. Her mouth was swollen, eyes sparkling, hair mussed.

“Christ, you’re sexy.” His fingers went to the button of his jeans.

“Oh, stop.” She rose onto her knees, watching him.

“Huh?” He stood there bare-chested, fingers at his fly.

“I want to undress you. I’ve never done that.”

“Oh.” He smiled. “Okay.”

She scrambled off the bed, brushed her hands over his chest, lingering to rub over each nipple, and sharp sensations moved over his skin at her touch. Urgency rose in him, the need to take her immediately, to be inside her.

Then she undid his pants, lowered the zipper slowly, and gently pushed them to the floor. He stepped out of them, pushing his socks off too and let her touch him through the soft cotton of his briefs. His erection throbbed and stretched the fabric. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes as she went to her knees in front of him.

“Krissa.”

“Mmm?” She laid her cheek against his hard cock, eyes closed. Fingers stroked, then she kissed him through the cotton.

“I can’t take…much more…we have to make sure…”

“Oh, but I don’t want to rush!” She stroked him again, pressed her nose there and took in a big breath. Fuck! Pressure gathered and built in his spine, his balls drew up tight.

If he came before he got inside her…

He reached down and hauled her to her feet. He grabbed handfuls of the dress and hiked it up, found her little thong underwear and with two fingers, yanked hard and ripped them on one side.

“Nate!” Her shocked gasp inflamed him even more, his blood surging hot and urgent through his veins and especially into his dick. So close, so close…he threw her down onto the bed, wishing he could be more gentle, take his time, but Christ, his orgasm was building higher and he was dangerously close to coming.

He came down over her, roughly, shoving her dress up, pushing into her hot pussy. She was wet, thank God, and her cries of surprise, her hands clutching at him, urged him on.

He pushed into her once, twice, three times and then he exploded, heat and light surrounding him, her wet warmth hugging his cock. She lifted her legs, clenched his hips with her thighs, and he felt the sting of her fingernails on his ass as she pressed up to meet his orgasm.

“Krissa. Krissa.” He poured himself into her in hard, hot jets, shuddering through a blinding climax. There wasn’t even time to make her satisfied, and he always tried to make sure she came first. He grunted and gasped through his release, the vague thought flickering through his mind that he’d make it up to her later. But right now—he was out of control, lost, buried balls deep in her, shooting his seed into her—and he loved it.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Krissa wondered if her silk dress had survived that. It thrilled her that he wanted her so much he went crazy with it, couldn’t wait to be inside her. It made her melt and tremble inside.

She smiled and stretched, turned her head to study Nate. “Wow,” she said. “That was hot.”

He opened one eye, but didn’t move. “Sorry.”

She laughed. “You’re apologizing? I just said it was hot.”

“You didn’t come. I always make you come first.”

He always did.

As his words seeped in, the intimation of a history, of a relationship, made her heart swell in her chest to the point of stinging her eyes.

“That’s okay,” she choked out.

He rolled towards her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He studied her, but said nothing. “I’ll make you come again. I’ll make you come so many times you won’t remember your own name.”

She smiled with trembling lips. “No worries.” She slid her hand down over her tummy and between her legs. She needed to come so bad. Nate’s eyes flew open and he made a low, rough sound.

Her fingers slid through the liquid overflowing between her legs, her cream combined with his semen. She was so wet. God. She closed her eyes, rubbed her cream over her clit, throbbing and swollen. She drew in a long breath, which pushed her breasts up, the tips aching, held the air in her lungs while she fingered herself. She felt the beginning of the orgasm, reached for it, let it build, higher and higher. Her thighs fell wider, she breathed in tiny pants, still holding her breath in expanded lungs. Sweetness coiled tighter inside her and then burst, a flare of heat, a shower of sparks through her body, leaving languor and weakness in their wake.

Drifting on a haze of pleasure, she became aware of Nate beside her. She turned her head toward him, opened her eyes and smiled. He watched her intently.

The orgasm relieved some of the tension she’d been feeling all day. Anticipation of the night they were about to spend together—alone—had kept her on edge, arousal and guilt colliding inside her.

But why should she feel guilty? Her husband knew she was here, knew who she was with and knew exactly what they were doing. He approved of it. Could it be considered cheating?

It was just the fact that she and Nate were on their own. This was the first time they’d ever had sex—intercourse—just the two of them. And then they’d both been so overcome by intense sexual need that he’d ripped her panties right off her and she’d had to give herself a fast, hard orgasm. Urgent hunger had temporarily obliterated any thoughts of anyone but the two of them, any emotions besides explosive lust and panting need.

They turned onto their sides and faced each other. Nate cupped the curve of her hip with his hand and she flattened her hand on his chest, felt his heart thudding slow and strong beneath her palm. They lay like that for a long time, just looking at each other.

Krissa reached for his face, stroked his whiskery cheek and jaw with the backs of her fingers, brushed her fingertips across his mouth. His eyes darkened, and his lips parted. She slipped her fingertips inside, stroked across his tongue.

Heat built inside her again, low in her belly. Nate’s hand stroked over her hip and thigh, up to her waist, up under her armpit. Shivery tingles swept out from his touch.

“Mmm. Ticklish.”

“No, I’m not.”

The corners of his mouth tipped up. Then his fingers darted up under her arm. She squealed and rolled away from him. Laughing, he rolled onto her, pinned her down, both hands delving into her underarms, then her waist. She gasped, laughed, twisted beneath him. “Stop! Stop!”

He stopped. He stared down at her, both of them giddy and breathless, then kissed her. His mouth covered hers, moved over hers, pushed her mouth open to take her in. His tongue stroked, teeth nipped her bottom lip. She kissed him back with everything she had, wrapped her arms around him and one leg, too. She moaned, arched against him, needed him again. “Nate, oh Nate.”

He hardened against her and she had to admire his recovery. They rolled together across the wide bed, mouths fused, bodies joined. Her pussy pulsed with need, thick, heavy, aching need, and she rubbed against him, seeking what she wanted. A groan rumbled from his throat. He fisted his hands in her hair, held her head for his long, drugging kisses. She rolled her hips against him in an instinctive, erotic rhythm until he shoved a hand between them to find his cock and pushed into her.

A long sigh of delight floated out of her mouth as he filled her. He rose up, pushed her knees up and back, opening her wide to him. She gazed down their bodies to where they joined, his thick dark pubic hair meeting her bare pussy. With every down stroke, he touched a tender place deep inside her that was exquisitely sensitive, then dragged out of her against the pull of her pussy on his hard length.

“Sweet, Krissa. So sweet.”

His hands held her beneath her knees, pushed them to her chest as he drove into her. His body gleamed in the lamplight, chiseled muscles, his face dark and tight with desire. She met his thrusts with her own, needing a deeper touch, but with each push sensation flared from her womb and she cried out. Her fingers twisted in the duvet. Her eyes wanted to close but she kept them focused on Nate, although his image glimmered through a haze of tears.

He released one knee and thumbed her clit, sensitized and swollen.

“I love making you come,” he breathed. His intense gaze pinned her to the bed, held her captive. “Love making you feel good, baby.”

She could only whimper a response as the magic of his thumb on her clit combined with the rapture his cock provoked in her womb, the two sensations melding into sublime bliss. Pleasure streaked through her body as heat coiled inside her, low, deep, scorching. It flared hotter, higher.

“Come for me, Krissa.” Nate’s tight jaw compressed the words. “Come with me.”

“Yes.” She let go, let herself fly, felt him pour himself inside her in hot, thick pulses. He groaned, held her pussy, pressed into her, and his eyes fell closed. She let her own drift shut, gave herself over to the enchantment torching her body. Her orgasm went on and on, his fingers on her clit drawing it out, her pussy clenching on his cock.

“You tried to distract me earlier, but I’m not going to let it go.”

“Mmm? Let what go?” His drowsy voice vibrated in his chest where her head lay. She played with the fine line of hair just below his navel.

“Why you haven’t seen your parents for two years.”

His body tensed beneath her. She flattened her palm over his lower abdomen, the wiry curls there tickling the edge of her hand. He drew in a slow breath, let it out even slower.

“There’s something I haven’t told you. About Lauren.”

She kept her head down, sensing it was better for him if she didn’t look at him while he talked. Her hand rubbed gently back and forth over his smooth firm skin, rough hair.

“Lauren was pregnant when she died.”

Now her head snapped up. “Pregnant?” She blinked at him.

“Yes.” His eyes closed against her searching gaze. “We’d just found out a couple of weeks before. We hadn’t told anybody. Wanted to wait a while make sure everything was okay.”

She gave a jerky nod. She felt seized by…fear. Anxiety. Jealousy? Emotions churned inside her.

“But…”

“Yeah. Big ‘but’.” He rubbed his eyes. “I already told you she’d been having an affair. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time. I was all happy and proud…excited to be a father, but also scared shitless.”

She nodded again.

“When I read her journal after the accident, she talked about her lover. About how—how she didn’t know who the father was. How she’d talked to him about that. What they were going to do.” His voiced deepened. “I’ll never know if that was my baby, Krissa.”

Pain stabbed through her heart. “Oh, Nate.” She stared at him in horror.

“I couldn’t deal with that. After the funeral, everyone was so sympathetic. They kept talking about how wonderful Lauren was, how much she loved me, blah blah blah. I couldn’t stand it. I just…couldn’t.” His voice cracked. “So I left. I just wanted to get away from anyone who knew about it, anyone who knew Lauren. I couldn’t tell anyone how goddamn pissed off I was at her…” The words came out rough and gritty. He squeezed his eyes shut. “How much I hated her for what she’d done. I couldn’t tell people that. I couldn’t tell people how guilty I felt for hating her—she was dead. It was so hard to keep it inside me every time they talked about what an angel she was.”

Krissa moved over him, laid her cheek against his rough one, put her hand on his neck. She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, wished with everything inside her she could make that pain go away for him, wished he’d never had to endure that.

What could she say to him? She, too, had thought Lauren perfect, faithful, in love with her husband. She, too, felt betrayed by Lauren’s infidelity, her shocking, sordid secret affair. And now, that she’d maybe even been pregnant by another man, while married to Nate. Dear God.

And if the baby had been his, how tragic. Well, it was tragic no matter whose baby it was…but she felt Nate’s despair as if it were her own, sharp and deep. And he would never know the truth now.

Her tears wet both their faces and she kissed his mouth, tasted salt, stroked the hot skin of his neck and jaw. Desire to comfort him swelled inside her, engulfing her, a wrenching helplessness dragged at her. Words of comfort and love rose to her lips.

But she couldn’t say them. She could only show him how she felt with her mouth, her hands and her welcoming body.

They made love again, this time slow, lush and impassioned. When Nate moved down her body to kiss her between her legs, she felt as though he were worshipping her. His small, suckling kisses over her sensitive folds held reverence and awe. His gentle licks and sighing breaths against her clit spoke of care and tenderness. Tears filled her eyes even as an agonizingly sweet tension tightened in her, a swelling heat. Everything inside her constricted, pulled up, up, up into a sharp peak of excitement and when she came, she came hard and long. Shudders wracked her body, and she held his head at her pussy while pleasure exploded through her veins. She cried out, bit her lip to keep words from spilling out of her.

When he moved over her, Krissa pushed him to his back and poured everything she felt into each stroke of his face, every caress, her clasp of his erection. She took her time to explore his body, every dip and hollow, every hard muscle and strong bone, with her mouth, her lips, her tongue. She inhaled his scent, warm and male, licked his balls, tasted his cock. She pressed kisses to his quivery belly, sucked and licked at his sharp nipples. When she moved over him and they came together, a shimmer of white heat surrounded them. Their eyes met and held, Krissa on top, riding him, hands on his chest, taking him deep.

The connection between them sparkled and flashed, a coalescence of intense emotions neither of them could—or would—name. Krissa swallowed the words that rose up in her throat, let them shine through her eyes instead.

She cried when she came, tears stinging her eyes, tracking down her face. She blinked through them, wanting to watch Nate, looking for a reflection of her feelings, and when she saw it, she lost her breath, lost her mind, lost her heart.

In the morning, when she awoke, she watched Nate sleep. He was so beautiful. She studied the slant of his thick eyebrows, the full curve of his lower lip, the perfect wedge of his nose. Something inside her soul was tearing in a long, painful rip, the pain almost making her gasp. Her eyes still gritty from last night’s tears, she refused to weep again.

He shifted in the bed, and his eyes fluttered open and found hers. They gazed at each other. She sensed him holding back, felt the emotion gripping him too. When his mouth opened to speak, she put her hand over it. Her eyes remonstrated him, begged him, stopped him.

When pain darkened his eyes and he closed them, she rolled away. She lay on her back, stared with burning eyes at the ceiling, then got up and went into the bathroom.

While Nate had breakfast with his family in the hotel restaurant, she left the hotel and walked the sidewalk sightlessly. After a couple of blocks, she realized she was in front of a small coffee shop, so she went in and ordered coffee and a muffin. She sat in the front window, the morning sun warming her chilled body. She didn’t taste the coffee as she sipped it, ignored the muffin.

Was it possible to love two men?

She crumbled the muffin as she pulled it in half, then stared out the window blindly. She was married. Her marriage wasn’t perfect, but she loved her husband. She had to love her husband. But now Nate had entered their lives—no, more than that. He’d entered her heart.

And her world had transfigured into a bewildering tangle she couldn’t begin to unsnarl.