Thirty-five floors up, and he wasn't scared of falling over the rail; he was scared of falling into her.
He could feel the tug between them, the relentless pressure of desire and need that had gone unfulfilled for so many years. This wasn't the right time or the right place, but then what was?
In the past, he'd walked away from so many moments like this, and he'd always regretted it. He didn't want any more regrets, no more missed opportunities.
"Nathan?" she whispered, her voice like a soft song on the wind.
Was it a plea or a question?
"I want you, Bree." There it was—right on the table, out in the light, words for her to stomp on or to embrace. He couldn't quite believe he'd said the words aloud after so many years of keeping them to himself.
Her green eyes darkened, and her lips parted, but it seemed to take forever for her to say something.
Would it be worth the wait?
"I want you, too," she said.
Definitely worth the wait.
He swallowed hard, not sure he'd heard her right, but her green gaze was gleaming in the moonlight. He bridged the distance between them, framing her head with his hands, his fingers sliding into the silky strands of her brown hair, his thumbs brushing the soft skin of her cheeks. Her lips parted, her breath a cloud of sexy heat in the cold night air.
He lowered his head, taking his time, wanting to savor every moment, because who knew if it would ever happen again?
When his lips covered hers, a wave of delicious warmth enveloped him. Everything else faded into the night—the lights, the traffic, the city. It was just the two of them, and that's really all he'd ever wanted.
She opened her mouth and invited him inside with an impatient sweetness that put him over the edge.
Bree had always been impatient to get what she wanted. She'd never been methodical or plodding; she'd always dived in—head first. And he'd always thought twice before he followed—if he followed.
But he wasn't following her now. And neither was he leading.
It was give and take, push and pull, one kiss blending into the next.
His hands moved through her hair, resting on her shoulders and then running down her arms to her hands. His fingers curled around hers as their mouths met again. It was the perfect kiss, the perfect touch, the perfection connection.
He didn't feel the chill of the night anymore.
He didn't feel the cold of his life anymore.
He just felt her.
Her mouth. Her hands. His Bree.
Maybe it wouldn't be forever. Maybe it wouldn't last until tomorrow. But he'd take what she was willing to give.
"Inside," he murmured against her mouth, pulling her back into his apartment, and closing the door behind them.
She took off her coat and tossed it over a nearby chair. Her gun and badge moved onto the coffee table, and then she went to work on the buttons of her blouse. He felt as if she wasn't just stripping herself of her clothes: she was stripping herself of the pressures and trappings of her life.
As she slipped her blouse off, he became entranced by the sheer white lacy silk of her bra. She might look all business on the outside, but on the inside…
"You're falling behind, Nathan," she said, a playful light in her eyes. "Just like that strip poker game we once played. I was down to my panties while you had only lost your shirt."
"That's because you were not very good at poker. Your excitement at getting a good hand always gave you away. You have very expressive eyes."
She made a face at him. "So, you were a better poker player. What's your excuse tonight?"
"I'm enjoying the show," he said, as she shimmied out of her black slacks, revealing a matching white lace thong and slender bare legs that he wouldn't mind having wrapped around his waist.
Despite his words, he was done watching. He moved forward, taking another kiss, as his hands cupped her sweet ass. And then she was doing just what he'd wanted, throwing her arms around his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom.
He tossed her onto the mattress, then made quick work of his clothes while she took off her lacy lingerie.
Seeing her naked, in his bed, waiting for him, with her gorgeous brown hair spread across his pillow, her green eyes so intent and passionate almost stopped his heart.
"God, Bree," he murmured. "You're amazing."
"Get down here, and I'll show you how amazing I can be."
"We're really doing this," he muttered, still in a little disbelief.
"Oh, we're doing it, Nathan," she said, pulling him on top of her. "Kiss me already. I feel like I've been waiting forever."
He felt exactly the same way.
Fourteen
Being with Nathan had been surprising and hot and really, really satisfying, Bree thought, as she snuggled against his side, her head on his shoulder, her arm across his waist, her leg over his.
She hadn't really known what to expect. Nathan had been many things to her. He'd been the kind, sweet, imaginative boy who had protected her and made her feel safe. He'd also been the fun, attractive teenager, who all the girls had wanted, but he'd still hung out with her. And then he'd been the brooding, mysterious, scowling man who seemed to disapprove of everything she did. And that had been the early years…
When she'd returned to Chicago a few days ago, he'd been angry and resistant, but then he'd gotten tangled up in her life and her problems, and he'd been a friend again, someone to lean on, someone to talk to, someone to trust…
Now, he was her lover.
She shivered at the memories of his hands on her body, his mouth on her lips and her breasts…his whispered words of passion as they moved together in perfect sync.
They hadn't always been on the same page, but tonight they'd both wanted the same thing—they'd wanted everything.
She hadn't felt so connected to anyone in a long time—if ever.
It was almost shocking to think it was Nathan who had made her feel so complete.
And yet it also made sense.
He'd always been able to read her. He'd always known what she wanted.
She'd had a lot more trouble figuring him out, but not tonight—tonight hadn't been about the past, but the present, the now…and the now had been wonderful.
Her stomach suddenly rumbled, and she felt a wave of embarrassment when Nathan laughed.
Lifting her head, she looked into his smiling eyes, feeling a bit smug that he was so happy, and it was because of her. "I think I'm ready for that Chinese food."
"I'll get it just as soon as I can move again," he drawled. "That was something else, Bree."
"We were very good together. I want to do it again and again and again," she said, playfully poking his chest with each repeat of the word again.
"Sounds like an excellent plan."
"But first…"
He groaned. "Food?"
She nodded and got off the bed, smiling to herself as Nathan gave her bare ass a little whistle of appreciation.
After using the bathroom, she wrapped herself up in Nathan's soft dark-green robe and joined him in the kitchen.
He'd put on his boxer briefs and jeans but thankfully he'd left his shirt off. She moved up behind him as he opened the refrigerator and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing a kiss on his back. "I'm glad you left your chest bare. I like a view while I'm eating."
He turned around in her arms. "I like a view, too. Maybe you should take off this robe."
"Not a chance. I know what will happen then, and I want my noodles."
He laughed and handed her a container. "I'll get us some plates, and we can heat everything up."
She opened the carton he'd given her. "I like it cold. And I'm too hungry to wait."
"You've reminded me several times tonight of how impatient you can be," he said with a wicked smile.
"I didn't hear you complaining a few minutes ago." She twirled some noodles around her fork and popped them into her mouth. "Yum. These are delicious."
Nathan poured food from several other cartons onto a plate, heated it up in the microwave, and then sat down next to her.
"Ooh, I want some of that, too," she said, eyeing the Mongolian beef on his plate.