“I believe you like to be on top, Miss Casey,” he said, with a wink, and her heart tripped on itself. In that moment she knew for certain everything had changed. He was still her Nate, making her laugh in the middle of the most intense night of lovemaking in her life. Through it all, he’d possessed her, he’d revered her, and he’d revealed himself to her. And now, he was giving her back the thing he’d taught her to give up.
Control.
“My favorite position,” she said, as she straddled him, sliding her hand over his cock, slick with her wetness. She leaned closer, her hair hitting his chest, as she purred in his ear. “You’re all hot and wet from me.”
He thrust up into her hand on a groan. “Yes, I am. Now finish us both off.”
She rolled the toy onto his shaft, pushing the ring all the way to the base, and angling the Lola vibration exactly where it would hit her most sensitive spot. “Not that we would ever say this in our marketing, but for your ears only . . . I hear this is like being licked and fucked at the same time,” she said, as she flicked it on and sank onto him and . . .
The earth stopped rotating. Time stood still. She nearly wept from the pleasure that burst in her body. Her bones rattled, her brain hummed, and she rode him, rising up and sinking back down on the toy as it buzzed merrily on her clit.
His hands found their way to her hair. “Kiss me while you fuck me,” he whispered, and she obeyed.
Her lips crashed down on his, and she devoured him. His mouth was the sweetest thing she’d ever had, and she hungrily sought more of him. But she could barely sustain the kiss because her body was taking off again. “Oh God,” she moaned into his mouth. He slid his hands along her spine, gripping her ass, taking over the work. She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t concentrate. The pleasure was too intense. Her brain short-circuited, and he thrust deep, moving her up and down on his fantastic cock that was made even more perfect by the insistent pressure from the toy. She felt so greedy, so ravenous as she sought out another orgasm. She couldn’t help herself; Nate had turned her into this wild woman.
“Come with me,” she moaned. “Please, Nate. Please come with me. I have to have you.”
“You have me, Casey. You have me, I promise,” he said, hoarsely, as he rocked hard into her, unleashing another round of ecstasy in her body. She shattered, bright white lights exploding behind her eyes as she convulsed around him, and he joined her, slamming up into her, driving deeper and harder and farther as he gripped her hips, and released himself inside her, groaning her name like she was his everything.
“This can’t stop,” he said as he shuddered, and pulled her close to him, his arms encircling her. Bliss radiated through her entire being. Sheer joy was all she consisted of. And happiness, so much unexpected happiness from his words.
“It can’t end. I can’t let this go. I can’t let you go,” she said, lifting her face to look him in the eyes.
“Don’t let me go,” he whispered.
“I won’t,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. She should have felt nervous. She should have been scared with what they were saying, knowing his track record, knowing his lines in the sand. Perhaps, if she were smarter about men and sex and love, perhaps if she truly did play games, she’d have held back. But her heart was so damn full it was about to burst with all these feelings. There was no way to contain all she felt. There was no way to keep it to herself. “When we were first together, I wanted you to teach me how to be submissive, and show me how to be seductive. But now I’ve been seduced by you.”
His lips quirked up in a smile, and he shook his head. “No, it’s the other way around. You’ve seduced me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Las Vegas, later that week . . .
“Do you ever miss the stage?”
Brent Nichols tilted his head to the side and considered the question that Nate Harper posed to him. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and nodded. “Yeah, I definitely miss the stage. But not as much as I thought I would,” he said. “I still moonlight, doing a show once a month, and that seems to be enough to feed me. The late-night TV circuit kept me pretty satisfied for a few years. Better to go out on a high note.”
Brent had just finished a wildly successful run on a late-night TV show that his brother, Clay, had arranged for him. The show had generated record ratings, legions of fans, and more success than he had imagined. He’d made a purposeful decision to walk away when it was still a hit. One of the things he couldn’t abide by was wearing out his welcome. Brent had always prided himself on never staying in one place, one gig, or at one job for longer than he was wanted. So he’d “retired” from the nightly work as a comedian. He’d also hungered for a change, eager to be more than the so-called “bad boy of comedy,” with his tats, motorcycle boots, and edgy style. He craved the new challenge of building a business.
That was where Nate came in. They’d been talking about moving his first nightclub inside The Luxe, one of the most coveted properties on The Strip, and they were about ready to close the deal. Brent was in Nate’s office at the Vegas property, laptop in hand, ready to share plans.
“Man, I already miss your show. Your bit about first date waxing always killed me,” Nate said, and Brent chuckled. That had indeed been a popular routine, and had cracked him up a few times too when he’d practiced it. “But I’m glad to see the next phase of your career is working out. You want to show me your plans?”
Brent flipped open his laptop. “Here’s what I’ve got in mind for the club.” He rolled his chair closer to the computer screen, and clicked open the file, but he’d misfired, and a browser window popped open.
Fuck. He half wished it had been porn on screen, but no such luck. He’d left open the Facebook profile of Shannon Paige.
Curvy. Gorgeous. Brilliant. And probably hated him.
Nate tipped his forehead to the screen. “Doing a little Facebook stalking?” he asked him dryly.
If it were anyone else, Brent probably would’ve tossed out a quip, tried to make a joke. But he knew Nate well enough by now, because the man was friends with his brother and his brother’s wife, Julia, courtesy of the mutual friends they all shared in New York. “Ex-girlfriend,” he admitted.
“Ah. Recent breakup?”
“About ten years ago,” Brent said with a self-deprecating laugh.