In the Likely Event

And I wanted him.

His lips were chilled but his tongue warm as it twined with mine. All of him was cold and wet, his clothes no doubt soaked all the way through to his skin. His hands skimmed the outside of my robe, and then he gripped the backs of my thighs, lifting me against the door so our mouths were level.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on, winding my arms around his neck as he kissed me harder, deeper. Rainwater dripped from his hair and down his cheeks, but that didn’t stop us. My teeth scraped his lower lip, and when he moved to draw back, I sucked his tongue back into my mouth and relished in the groan that rumbled through his chest.

Need raced through my veins like lava, flushing and heating my skin—even my thighs, which took the brunt of the cold from his sodden suit.

He shifted, carrying me without breaking the kiss as he crossed the suite. But he didn’t take me to the bedroom. My ass hit the dining room table as I fought with the wet fabric of his tie, finally loosening the knot enough to get it over his head. I shoved the wet jacket from his shoulders next, and it hit the floor with a thwack.

“Drop your legs,” he ordered between deep, drugging kisses.

I unhooked my ankles and let my legs dangle over the edge of the table.

“Perfect.” His hands stroked up my thighs, under the cloth of my robe, and my stomach fluttered. I knew exactly what he could do with those hands, those very talented fingers, and I was more than ready.

But the touch I so sorely wanted didn’t come.

I unbuttoned his shirt with fumbling fingers, too eager to keep my mouth on his to bother looking at what I was doing. After finally undoing the last one, I tugged the shirt free from his pants and somehow managed to unfasten the buttons at his wrists while his hands kneaded my thighs. He kissed my mouth, my cheeks, my neck, while I tugged the reluctant, clinging fabric of his shirt from his body.

Then I pulled back and looked at him.

“Nate,” I whispered, awestruck by the body he’d honed to utter perfection. He’d put on muscle over the last eighteen months, his torso still carved, his abs still ridged to mouthwatering magnificence, but now there was simply more of him. The deep fuck-me lines that ran down the edges of his stomach begged to be traced by my tongue. I jerked my gaze up to his. “You’re incredible.”

“You’re all I want.” He cupped the back of my neck. “It doesn’t matter how far I go or how long I’m away. I dream about you. Even when I know you’re with someone else—”

“I’m not,” I assured him, shaking my head.

“Or when I’m with someone else—” he continued, and my heart stuttered.

“Are you?” I leaned away, bracing my palms against the table as I waited for my heart to beat regularly again. He wasn’t mine. I wasn’t his. That was the agreement we’d made.

And yet he was always mine.

I was always his.

“No. Not in over six months.” He looked at me, and for a heartbeat, I cursed this bond between us, the irrational jealousy that had gripped my stomach when I’d read that particular letter about the woman he’d been seeing. “But even then, as much as it makes me an asshole to admit it, you were all I wanted, Izzy.”

“I know.” I nodded. “It’s the same for me.”

He crushed my mouth to his, the kiss softer than before, but just as deep, just as powerful. It robbed me of my breath, my thoughts, and any inhibitions that might have lingered.

Then he leaned over me, lowering me until my back rested on the table.

“I want to see you,” he said before kissing me again.

My hands found the belt of my robe, and I tugged, letting it fall open, just like the first time he’d put his hands on me.

He lifted his head, and his gaze roamed my naked body, lingering on the parts he’d never seen before. “Holy shit are you just . . . perfect.”

“You said that last time.” I grinned and tried not to fidget under the heat of his gaze.

“Nothing’s changed.” His eyes met mine, and the need I saw there made me melt, relaxing completely on the table. “I’m going to kiss you, Isabeau Astor.”

I smiled even wider. “You’ve said that before too.”

“Yeah. I know.” He flashed a smile, and his dimple appeared for a second before he grasped my shins, then bent my knees as he put my feet on the edge of the table and spread my thighs wide enough for his shoulders to—

Oh God.

I sucked in a breath as he set his mouth on me, skimming his tongue over my entrance and up to my clit. It felt so damned good that all I could do was cry out, my hands grasping at his head to pull him closer.

“You taste like heaven,” he said, and I lifted my head long enough to lock eyes with him as he lowered his mouth again, sending a bolt of pure pleasure spiraling through me.

He was the hottest man I’d ever seen, and he was mine to touch tonight.

My head fell back as sensation ruled my body. Every lick of his tongue made my back arch. Every time he sucked my clit between his lips, I trembled. When his fingers slid inside me, first one, then two, I couldn’t help but rock back against him, seeking more, demanding it with my moans.

He pinned my hips to the table with his forearm so I could only take what he wanted to give, and then he drove me toward madness. He teased when I wanted him to take. He flicked when I wanted him to linger. He took me to the edge of orgasm, when I could almost taste how sweet that release would be, only to lessen the pressure before I tumbled over.

“Nate!” I tugged on his head as the delicious torture began again.

“What do you need, Izzy?” he asked, blowing softly against my heated skin.

I gasped, my back bowing. “I need you!” In every way possible. It was the closest I could come to letting him know how I felt.

“Like you’ll scream if you can’t have me?” He flicked his tongue over my clit.

“Yes!”

“Like you’ll die if you have to take one more breath without me inside you?” He looked up at me, his eyes holding me as a willing prisoner.

“Yes.” It was a whisper.

He nodded. “Good. Because that’s exactly how I need you.” He lowered his head between my thighs, and the world around us disappeared. There was only his mouth, his tongue, his fingers, building my pleasure with expert care, coiling that exquisite pressure in my stomach until my entire body went taut.

Then I snapped, release rushing through me with so much power that I screamed. It could have been words. Maybe his name. Maybe just a cry. Noises were a dull roar around me as wave after wave arched my back, and before I realized what was happening, that pressure coiled again as he worked me right to the brink of a second.

“You!” I demanded, my nails raking through his hair. “I want you, Nate.”

He dragged my body to the very edge of the table. I vaguely heard the sound of a buckle, the rip of foil, and then the thick head of him was right there at my entrance.