Page 21 of Nathan

“But you want more, don’t you, little Dex?” I burrow into her neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses as I nip along her collarbone, inching farther down, with my fingertips gently brushing her waist as I suck on her tits, left, right, left again. Starved for her, this woman I barely know, I devour her, my cock getting hard when she makes those adorable keening sounds and writhes beneath me.

“Oh, yeah.” She breathes the words in my ear. “I definitely want more.”

My eyes spring open to a room drenched in daylight…and an empty bed. I leap up, not bothering with my boxers this time, and dash into the kitchen. Relief swamps me when I spot Dex dressed in one of my shirts that almost reaches her knees, beating something in a bowl. My guess is eggs. My cock stirs to life yet again at the sight of her ass wiggling beneath the cotton.

“Plenty of salt in mine.”

She jumps and spins around with the bowl tucked into the crook of her arm, the yellow liquid dripping from the fork she holds midair. Yep, eggs.

“Salt is bad for you,” she says, waggling the piece of silverware at me. “And you scared me.”

I wander over to her, my erection jutting forward as if it’s as desperate to reach her as I am. Her gaze drops, and her tongue darts out to dampen her lips. Fuck if that doesn’t make me harder. I take the bowl from her, set it down on the counter, then snake my arms around her waist. When she tips her head back, I bend down for a kiss.

“Morning, again,” I say. “I like the idea of you wearing my clothes and cooking my breakfast.”

“Do you now?” she says, arching an eyebrow at me.

“Mm-hmm.” My lips travel from her mouth to her neck. She owns me. She’s cast a spell on me. I ache every time I’m not touching or close enough to touch her. “My cock is raw from being inside you all night, yet I want you again. What have you done to me, Titch?”

A slight tremor runs through her body, and her hands trail up my spine before she anchors them in my hair.

“Is this a dream?” she murmurs.

I draw back, and as I gaze into her huge, gray eyes, framed with dark, naturally thick lashes, an alien feeling stirs in my chest. I feel something for this woman. Something more. Something… scary.

“More like a nightmare,” I say with a grin.

My teasing breaks the spell. She punches me on the arm, then turns her attention back to beating the eggs.

My phone rings, and I give it a cursory glance, then grimace. Callum. No doubt he’s calling to see why I haven’t responded to Declan’s texts.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” Dex asks.

“No.”

Her eyebrows rise at my curt tone, and she glances at my phone. “Who’s Callum?”

“My brother.”

“Don’t you want to talk to him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. Annoyance swirls in my gut, but I hold back from snapping at her. It isn’t Dex’s fault that the closer it gets to Declan’s wedding—and my unavoidable return to New York—the shorter my fuse becomes.

“Nate?”

My eyes spring open. Concern laces her features, shifting something inside me. Something warm, good, and addictive.

She sets the bowl on the countertop and runs her hand down my arm. “Is everything okay?”

I encircle her waist, stealing another kiss. “All good, Titch.”

Returning to the bedroom, I pull on a pair of gray sweats. In the bathroom, I pick up my toothbrush and find the bristles are damp. Dex must have brushed her teeth with it while I’d been asleep. The idea is oddly thrilling.

By the time I return to the kitchen, Dex is plating up. It’s such a domestic scene for a very un-domestic man, but I don’t mind nearly as much as I thought I would.

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