Page 15 of Master Debater

I lifted my head, and our ragged breaths mingled together for a tension-filled eternity. Then I finally gave in to her gravitational pull and crashed my mouth to hers.

Chapter 8

Willa

Nate’s mouth molded to mine in a heated instant, sending the world spinning off its axis. He delved deeper, parting my lips with his demanding tongue. Instantly, I acquiesced, melting against him. Stroking and tasting.

Sharing heartbeats and breaths.

He drifted his hand up my side, fitting his thumb under the curve of my breast. With a twist of his wrist, he palmed me over my shirt and bra. “I’ve wanted my hands on these since the moment I got a good look at you.” He squeezed, and a dart of pleasure zinged through my core.

“Now, where is…?” He swiped his thumb over the lacy cups, and I squirmed against him when he found my puckered nipple, craving more. Needing more.

And Nate gave it to me, pinching and tweaking as I used my grip on his neck to tug him ever closer. I hooked one leg around his waist and my back hit the keys of the piano, a mess of notes coming out as our make-out session cranked up another level.

A whimper escaped as I dragged myself over his impressive erection, the friction leaving me wet and dizzy with desire. As he continued kissing me into oblivion, rolling his tongue over mine as though he meant to explore and conquer every inch, the bundle of nerves that’d been rather unruly as of late throbbed to life.

Everything inside of me insisted I get more of Nate on more of me, and I pawed at his chest, working free the buttons on his shirt as his hand drifted higher on my thigh. Adrift on a sea of bliss, I rode the bobbing waves until Nate’s fingertips breached the elastic that kept my underwear against my inner thigh.

This night—this moment—had gotten away from me. All I wanted to do was throw caution to the wind, hope it was a blustery evening, and let this man use the same fingers he’d used to play the piano to play my body with the same intense perfection.

A harrowing thought slammed into me, of reaching my sexual peak with this man, only to lose the ability to travel there ever again.

Or worse, what if I still couldn’t get there. If it took a while, Nate might get frustrated. Then I’d end up naked and completely exposed, and while it shouldn’t be anything he took personally, when had “it’s not you, it’s me” ever made anyone feel better.

I had a devastating theory, one that involved me being sexually blocked until I worked out my issues with Eric and the divorce. It didn’t mean I wasn’t going to attempt to overcome it solo, but it wasn’t fair to rope someone else into the mess without at least warning them that there was one.

Ugh, stupid reality. Why’d it have to rear its ugly, cock-blocking head?

“Nate, wait.” Summoning all my willpower, I braced a hand on his chest and forced a couple of inches between our mouths. My body screamed at me like a pissed off banshee as the evening jolted to a halt.

Immediately, Nate paused the delicious kneading of my breast, and his other hand lifted a couple inches off my thigh. I winced, bracing myself for the anger. Instead, he remained statue still, the only visible movement the lust-filled haze that’d filled his eyes slowly fading away.

“I-I had a great time tonight,” I stuttered, “but I got a bit carried away.”

The tiniest bob of his head indicated he’d heard me.

It was so hard to think clearly with his arousal still pressed tightly against me, drawing my attention to how well we seemed to fit together. Now I was equally frozen, afraid to move and afraid not to. “As much as I want to forget about everything else that’s going on in my life and be able to seize the moment, I’m afraid I can’t. You see, technically…” Just say it, Willa. You owe him the truth. “I’m married.”

Nate jerked back so sharply that the bench rocked. For some reason, I thought I could catch him.

Only my momentum overturned the bench entirely, sending the both of us crashing to the floor. I landed with my hands braced on either side of Nate’s shoulders, my chest mashed against his.

Blindly, I searched for the best way to get off—er, get off him.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” I went to climb off, right as he sat up, and then I ended up straddling his lap. I wasn’t sure if he was hard from earlier, or from me falling on him, but it wasn’t something I should be fixating on, especially after the bomb I’d just dropped.

Nate gripped my hips and lifted me off his lap, his strong hands holding me a few inches from where I longed to be. But I’d done this to myself, and there was no undoing the confession now.

Unable to see any way to fully stand without his help or further injury, I planted my hands on his shoulders and used the leverage to stand. Then I extended him a hand.

A hand he ignored when he pushed to his feet. Despite the situation being one hundred percent my fault, I failed to stifle the twinge in my chest.

“Let me start over,” I rushed. “I didn’t mean… I’m not married. Not really. Only technically. I just thought you should know before… except that probably means we shouldn’t. And I’m not looking for…” Naturally, my words had chosen now to fail me.

Nate continued to stare as though I was a complete stranger, which, okay, fair. While it felt like we’d crossed into at least acquaintance territory—or whatever it was called when two people knew what each other’s tongues tasted like—we only knew the bare minimum.

Before he demanded I leave, I bulldozed on, my mouth taking off at full speed. “Eric and I are in the process of getting a divorce. Because he cheated on me with his fucking receptionist during the month and a half that I was out of town, and why did he have to be so fucking cliché about it? You know?”

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