I was content.
And proud of Lexi. She was doing her best to bounce back, and it had nothing to do with men. She’d enrolled in her first year of college. “Better late than never,” she’d said, and I agreed. She’d also gotten a job on the set as a stylist for a DIY show that was filmed locally. Lexi had put up videos on YouTube when it launched and gained a lot of attention. It inspired me to start my podcasts. I’d run the marathon in Austin as far as the paper was concerned. I knew every step of city pavement. I no longer served beers at Maggie Mae’s due to the newly thriving budget of Speak, but it never kept me from doing the work. I knew every club manager and often got tipped off when some of the bigger names rolled into town. And in doing that, I scored exclusives by my reputation. Austin Speak had the most followed entertainment segments in the city and was getting national recognition with some of my freelance publications. And this all happened within the time that Dead Sergeants hit the rock ‘n’ roll lottery with three, number one billboard singles with their self-titled first album. I watched the guys take the stage after winning two Grammys for Best New Artist and Song of the Year. On stage, Reid stood in the back, mute, while the rest of the guys rambled on. Even with their success, Reid remained tight-lipped and out of the spotlight. As Roger Morris shut the door after a brief handshake with Nate and I, I decided I would light Reid Crowne’s ass on fire with questions if he were the one responsible for dragging me into their hotel.
My plans for revenge were cut short by the sight of Nate, hunched over his desk, his thick fingers splayed on the top of it. “What in the hell were you thinking?”
“Be more specific,” I said, sinking back into my seat with a sigh. “And you know I already regret the phone thing.”
“The phone thing? Oh, you mean when you announced to the entire building that you and I have sex on the regular?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I buzzed your office.”
Shit. “Didn’t I?
“You didn’t hear the applause?”
Shit.
“Stella,” he said with his hands in his pockets. “Come on, baby, you know better. Where is your head lately?”
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m tired, okay? I’m working my ass off here, school, and my sister is driving me ape-shit about the difference between two types of green pastels. I don’t have time for an interview of this proportion. I’m not prepared.”
“That’s bullshit. You’re always ready,” he said, his arms crossed. He looked down at me. Nate Butler got better looking with age. It wasn’t a biased opinion. It was a fact. I still pinched myself mentally every day that he was mine.
“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I’ll send out an apology email.” Nate nodded, and I looked at him, and my breath hitched. “I love you.”
He walked around and pulled me to stand and into his arms. “Hang in there, baby. Once we get this issue out, I’ll get us out of here. Anywhere you want to go.”
“Bed,” I said with a lifted brow.
“Deal.”
He frowned down at me. “This weekend will be over before you know it, and I’m having a hard time with the interview issue. You live for opportunities like this.”
“Please, Nate, let JJ take it. I’m exhausted.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “You know we’re only as good as our last story, Stella. This will boost circulation.”
I looked at the man who had literally done everything in his power to prove his love and brushed my lips against his. “I’ll do it.”
He chased my lips and kissed me breathless. When he pulled away, his voice was hoarse.
“I need you to pull down your panties,” he said tightly.
“What?” Nate had never initiated sex at work since the night I roller-skated my way into his right side. “Give them to me. If I remember correctly from this morning, they are red lace.”
“Yes,” I said, my body drawing tight at the command of his voice.
“Take them off,” he barked.
Happily meeting his demand, I pulled up my favorite black pencil skirt, took them off, and swung them in front of his face with my index finger.
“Stella, you helped build this paper. Raise your skirt,” he matter-of-factly said, as if the words he’d just said didn’t have my pulse racing. I pulled it up to my waist as he leaned in, intent on keeping my attention above while he worked me down below. “It wouldn’t be half as successful without you,” he whispered as my breathing escalated. “I wouldn’t be half as successful without you,” he said, kneeling down in front of me as he shed his navy blue blazer. “Hold on, baby,” he whispered to my clit as he flicked his eyes to mine before he darted his tongue out in one smooth lick. “I love you.” Lick. Lick. Lick. He added a finger as my breath left my body and thrust upward as he sucked me greedily. “I think about you coming into my office, in that fucking T-shirt,” he breathed out as he added another finger and thrust up while I sank against his door and onto his hungry mouth. “I wanted to claim you then, and God, if I would have only known what we would become,” he said as he jackhammered his tongue against me, “I would have taken you hostage that day.” I burst in his mouth as he thrust his fingers faster, drawing it out and making it last. “You became mine the minute you walked in that door, beautiful. I’m so proud you’re mine. I’m never letting go.”
I had no idea where this confession was coming from. I felt it from him every day, but to hear the words coming from his mouth as he worshipped me was another level sort of thing. I never pressed Nate for more than what he gave. But I did wonder every once in a while, if he still loved me the same. If his feelings had been dulled by some of our fights or faded slightly with our ability to reach out and touch whenever we wanted. I knew longing and I knew comfort. I had and felt both from and with Nate, consistently. Still, his words, they reached deep. If he would have asked me in that moment to be his wife, I would have said yes without hesitation.
He leaned in and soaked his face in my arousal then pulled away, licking his lips clean. “And I love this sweet pussy so much.”
“God, please, Nate,” I asked as he stood and nailed me to the door, his forearm on my neck, pressing slightly while his fingers ran through my sex.
“I’ll give your panties back when you’ve earned them, and this,” he said, putting my hand on his bulging cock, “when you get home from rehearsal tonight.”
“You aren’t coming?”
“I can’t,” he said slowly, releasing me before the guilt surfaced on his features. “I have a conference call.”
Shoulders slumping, I narrowed my gaze. “Did you just get me off so I wouldn’t gripe at you about that?”
“Yes. But I meant every word.”
We shared a smile. “It worked.”
He kissed me deeply and didn’t stop until Sierra knocked on the door.
The Flame
Cheap Trick