Page 41 of Master Debater

Of so, so many things, so I simply nodded.

Nate moved me in front of him and pointed over my shoulder. “You were talking about the palette method, and how it had a Monet feel to it because nothing about the individual strokes are well-defined, and yet the entire image is.”

Right. The love in the painting. That’s what I was going to focus on. “It also causes the world around them to be slightly blurred, but the passion and devotion is crystal clear.”

“Mmhmm. It also looks like they’ve got a secret that only they’re in on.” While Nate’s assessment was spot-on, it was hard to focus on anything with his growing arousal nestled against the seam of my butt. He flattened his palm to my lower belly while he continued discussing the texture and colors, and I melted in his embrace.

“Speaking of art, I’m not sure which side of this dress I’m a bigger fan of.” Taking advantage of his eagle-eye view over my shoulder, he peered down the bodice. “The front, and how it showcases your perfect, rounded tits, or the low-cut back, with its easy access to your smooth skin and the way the fabric hugs your ass before flaring into the long skirt.”

Between my rapid heart rate and the loss of my breath, words weren’t forming, and I wasn’t sure exactly how to respond anyway.

“But when it comes down to it, all that matters is that every single side of you belongs to me.” Nate skimmed his mouth across the top of my shoulder to suck at the base of my neck.

“Is that so?” What was left of my oxygen supply came out in a whoosh, along with the question.

Nate nipped at my skin and my nipples strained against my bra like they intended to make an escape. Fortunately, the strapless contraption came equipped with no-slip grip cups, the clear lining tough enough it’d take a serious tug to remove them.

Unfortunately, Nate couldn’t currently test its limits without causing us to become the main exhibition.

“Don’t pretend you don’t already know,” he said, low enough the vibrato of his voice reverberated through my core.

I tilted back my head, resting the crown on his shoulder as I pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Careful, or I’ll leave a mess on the floor. Since someone has a penchant for stealing my panties, I didn’t bother wearing any tonight.”

A gruff noise emanated from the back of his throat, and he hardened even more against me. Which was the opposite of caution, and I squeezed my thighs together. How could I be this turned on in a crowd of people? The more sex we had, the more I craved. Nathan Fox had turned me into an insatiable fiend, and I didn’t even care. I was ready to throw decorum out the window and fuck him right there.

At least I had enough self-control to refrain, although when I spun around to address him, only to find every muscle coiled and ready to pounce, I wasn’t sure I did. Or that he did. Heaven help us both.

Was it possible to have it all? Mind-blowing sex and a soul-level connection? A man who would be tender with my emotions and ravage my body?

His hands came around my upper arms, and he shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. “Before this little game of ours gets out of control, I want to talk to you about someth?—”

“Hey, Nate, the ‘self-declared great.’ Look at me.” The modelesque dark-hair woman who appeared to be in her early twenties spun, throwing out her arms as she did so, wide enough she almost hit one of the nearby sculptures. “Here instead of Florida. Happy now?”

With a harsh swear, Nate released me to catch hold of her wrist and tug her away from the artwork. With them side by side, their shared features stood out, inserting enough pieces into the puzzle for me to draw a feasible conclusion. This must be Rylee.

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” she said with a giggle, stumbling on her heels in a way that undermined her lie. “Relax.” The rasp in the word made me think she was attempting to whisper, but like most intoxicated people, had lost the ability. “It was just-nuff to take edgeoff and get through this borringg party.”

“Damn it, Rylee. If you’re pissed at me, fine. You and I can have it out later. But tonight is about Mom, and after everything she’s done for you, I can’t believe you can’t even do this one simple thing for her.” Nate glanced at me, the distress in his eyes clear, and I scrambled to shake off the lust haze so I could launch into problem-solving mode.

“I bet the caterers have coffee. I expect they keep a pot going to boost their energy levels while they work.” I spotted a waiter and started for him, not waiting for confirmation before springing into action, and Nate called out something about taking her out to the hall.

Within minutes, I’d acquired a cup of hot coffee with two pumps of espresso and an entire plate stacked with hors d’oeuvres to help sop up the alcohol. The hallway served as a stark contrast to the opulent, well-lit party, the switch giving my five senses whiplash.

“Hey, who’re you?” Rylee asked as he attempted to jam bruschetta in her mouth.

“This is Willa,” Nate said. “She’s my date for the evening, and if you’re lucky, she’ll graciously agree to keep this between us, so Mom doesn’t have to find out. Seriously, are you trying to give her a heart attack?”

One cheek popped out as she chewed the tiny piece of toast covered in tomato, basil, balsamic, and a curl of white cheese. “Heart attacks aren’t caused by stress. That’s just bullshit guilt tactics.”

Technically, she had a point, but I kept my lip zipped on the subject. Especially since she chose that moment to shove her face into mine and study me so intently that I wondered if I had food stuck to it, despite not having partaken of the hors d’oeuvres myself.

“You’re pretty.”

“So are you.” Not only was it the first thing that popped into my head, but it was also true. Rylee had a flawless olive complexion, sleek brown hair with perfectly painted highlights, and a lean willow body made for runways—something her slinky, pale pink dress with its teeny-tiny straps accentuated.

“I like her, Nate. If she’s around by the next time we have a family function, I’ll bother to learn her name.”

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