Page 90 of Bound By Words

It was time to let other people around this developing relationship, which would really test things between us. What if his friends didn’t like me? What if he thought I was annoying now that the suspense had worn off?

What if the biggest threat of returning to Chicago wasn’t Trent but my feelings for Nathan pulling me apart?

“I’m going to try to tame this wild thing,” Nathan laughed as he combed his fingers through his beard. I’d gotten used to the longer hair on the top of his head and the fluffy beard, but recalling how handsome he’d been clean-shaven with slightly shorter hair at the wedding had my pulse racing.

“I like you wild,” I teased, but then yawned, the exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with me.

“Why don’t you go lie down?” Nathan suggested as he steered me back toward his large bed. He leaned around me, discarding the few decorative pillows and pulling down the comforter. “I can tell you’re tired.”

I yelped as he reached down to sweep me into his arms, gently laying me on the mattress. My fingers gripped the front of his shirt, pulling his mouth to mine as he tried to back away.

“Mmm, quit distracting me,” he hummed against my lips before quickly kissing my forehead and stepping back. “Take some time to rest, and then I’ll help you unpack. Any requests for dinner?”

“No,” I murmured, suddenly feeling drowsy as I burrowed my head into a pillow that smelled like Nathan. Warm and woodsy with a hint of spice. Placing my hand over my mouth, I let out a loud yawn.

“Rest, sunshine,” he encouraged, leaning in to kiss me again as his palm trailed down where my hair had spread across his soft sheets.

Gasping, my head shot up from the pillow, momentarily disoriented. I looked around the dim room, my heart pounding as I tried to remember where I was. Vague images of being chased by something faded as I stared at the familiar armoire in front of the bed.

“Relax, sunshine,” Nathan cooed as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back into the nest of covers. “It was just a bad dream, sweet girl. Breathe.”

Taking a few shaky breaths, I relaxed back into his hold. His fingers traced softly over the sliver of skin exposed on my stomach, and I took another deep breath.

“How long was I asleep?” I asked quietly.

Nathan held his forearm out, studying his watch. “Just a few hours. Do you feel better now? If you need more rest, we can go back to sleep for another hour or so before they arrive.”

“No,” I sighed, snuggling back into his embrace. “If I sleep anymore, I won’t sleep tonight.”

“Who said I was going to let you sleep tonight?” he hummed into my shoulder, his voice rough.

Reaching my hand back, I ran it through his hair, pausing when it seemed shorter and I didn’t encounter the bushy beard I’d gotten used to. Quickly rolling over, my eyes widened as I took in his new look.

Nathan smiled widely, his shorn hair rumpled and his eyes soft as his head lay against the pillow. “Better?”

“Just different,” I whispered, reaching forward to trail my fingers over his much shorter facial hair and across his lips. They looked fuller without all that hair surrounding them. “You look handsome.”

His fingers crept beneath the hem of my shirt, tracing the skin on my lower back as I cupped his cheeks, rubbing my thumbs along his cheekbones. I’d almost forgotten how chiseled his jawline was, and he looked younger without the extra facial hair. I could see the hint of gray in his sideburns more clearly, but it added to his masculine beauty.

“You keep looking at me like that,” he warned, scooting forward and deliberately scraping the light layer of scruff on his jaw across my neck, “and I won’t be responsible for ripping off your panties.”

“That wasn’t much of a threat,” I teased, grabbing a fistful of hair on the back of his head into my palm. “Maybe I put these on this morning, knowing you’d want to rip them off.” He’d confessed that he found understated undergarments enticing during our game.

He growled, nipping at my throat as he rolled me onto my back, the weight of his hips pinning me to the bed. “Having you in my bed and knowing I can’t have you yet is torture.”

“Then have me,” I whispered. “You said we have an hour.”

He studied my face as I lay beneath him, his eyes soft. Pushing up onto his forearms, he cradled my head between his palms.

“Later. I want to take my time with you. But I do have a present for you,” he whispered before he sat up, throwing the covers off as he climbed from the bed.

I watched as he walked over to the armoire, pushing it to the side until a set of two sliding doors came into view. He pulled one open, slipping into the dimly lit room on the other side.

Sitting up, I tried to peer through the opening, but all I could make out were the vague shapes of the furniture in the dark room.

He returned quickly with a small black box in his palm.

“Should I be worried?” I asked as he peeled off the plastic outer layer, slowly pulling open the side flap of the package.

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