Page 30 of Master Debater

“And you said you didn’t do humility.”

“I do the truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God. I was a cocky prick back then, and I went through women like…” He trailed off, seemingly realizing he’d said too much after he’d said it. “What I mean to say is that I would’ve definitely blown my shot by being an immature jackass, and then you and I’d never be here, like this, right now. I don’t like the idea of that, so let’s get this show started and pretend I never said anything.”

I nodded, telling myself to ignore the phrase “went through women like.” With his good looks and superb skills in the sack, it wasn’t like I assumed Nate had been a monk all his life. Still, the idea of him with other women, especially modelesque ones burned more than I expected or liked.

The only thing that countered it was reminding myself that mere minutes ago, he’d called me gorgeous. Still, it took the first few notes of the guitar to successfully shush my spinning thoughts, and then music reminded me why it’d always be my first love.

God, it felt so good to sing one of my old comfort songs at the top of my lungs. I sang about roots, boots, and whiskey, and being okay. And as the song came to an end, the last note hanging in the air, I turned to my guitarist to see if he’d felt the high too.

Only to find him staring back at me with an expression so predatory that a shiver of awareness traveled down my core. “What?” I squeaked, and Nate slowly set aside the guitar and stalked toward me.

“You were right,” he said, and I instinctually took a step backward. “The acoustics are amazing.”

Why did I want to turn and flee?

Stupid question. It was so that he’d catch me.

There were two versions of Nate: the gentleman who offered car rides, showed up with flowers, and carried my bag for me; and the boorish dude who bossed me around and fucked me into oblivion.

With each step backward I took, more of the gruff, domineering version of Nate rose to the surface. Two stern creases formed between his eyebrows, his Adam’s apple protruded more than usual, and the line of his jaw turned rigid.

Ever-so-casual, he removed his coat and draped it across a nearby music stand. Then he resumed the advance of his sure, steady strides.

The veins in his hands stood out as he uncuffed his sleeves, naked desire showing in his features as he released the leash on his feral side. He rolled up the thin, pale blue fabric, revealing that tantalizing line of his forearm, and a gasp escaped as my back hit the wall, leaving me nowhere to run.

Nate’s grin turned wolfish, and he pinned me in place with nothing more than the intensity in his gaze. He went the extra mile keeping me there, though, placing his palm a foot or so over my shoulder and draping his body over mine.

“That’s why,” he said, his voice so deadly low and husky my whimper couldn’t be helped. He skimmed his fingers over my knee, up my thigh, higher and higher as he bunched my skirt in his fist. “I’m not going to be satisfied until I experience the way your voice carries when you come and cry out my name.”

Chapter 17

Nate

“I thought you were hungry,” Willa said, and I licked up the column of her neck and sank my teeth into the lobe of her ear.

“I am.”

Her glorious breasts rose and fell against my chest, giving away the fact that she was as horny as I was. “But my job. What if we get caught?”

Blindly, I reached out and yanked the curtains, just far enough to cover us without muffling the sound transmission. “If anyone hears, we can just say you were practicing your high notes.”

“Nate, I’m not sure?—”

I pressed a finger to her lips. “Ah-ah. Not until you come—that’s when you get to say my name.” My other hand slid higher on her thigh. “I warned you about arguing with me. You thought you were real smart, didn’t you? Telling me that you were choosing the hard way and getting all snarky. Now, it’s up to me whether you finish or not.”

Ransacking time. I slipped my fingers into her panties, groaning at finding her so wet and ready for me. I didn’t push inside of her or increase the tempo, purposely dawdling so she’d learn her lesson.

Her hips bucked, circling and chasing after my touch, and I kept the pressure infuriatingly light for the both of us.

“What do you say? Shall I expect my apology now or later?”

Willa gripped a fistful of curtains and set her jaw, stubborn to a fault that I planned on relieving her of.

“Later, it is.” I dropped to my knees, and her jaw went along with me. I replaced the hand I’d had on her thigh with my mouth, kissing my way up to the innermost part of her leg, right where it met her torso.

The rigidity in her muscles faded as her head fell back against the wall. Finally, she was accepting that the fate of her pleasure was in my capable hands—as well as my mouth. I ducked my head under her skirt, groaning at the tiny scrap of silk that greeted me. I put my mouth on her, fabric and all, and expelled warm, damp breaths that had her clenching her thighs.

“The sooner I eat you out and you cry out my name as you come, the sooner we get to eat out.” I hooked my finger in her underwear, pulling it aside and savoring the sight of her. If I had my way, I’d ask the stage manager to shine the spotlight right at this perfect slice of heaven.

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