Almost, but not quite.
He just stays there for a long moment afterward, until he starts to go soft inside of me. Only then does he shift, sliding out. I can feel our mingled seed dripping down my legs, and making a mess out of the bedsheets beneath me, but I can’t bring myself to care.
Shifting, I straighten my legs out and roll onto my back. “Wow.”
“Is that your official diagnosis?” Nathan asks, moving and stretching out next to me. The moment that his back hits the bed, I’m shifting and curling up against him, resting my cheek against his shoulder.
“You know,” I tell him, a soft smile spreading across my features as I nestle closer to him. “It just might be.”
Chapter Fifteen
Nathan
Welingerinthebedroom for longer than we probably should. It’s my fault.
I have a hard time keeping my hands off her.
Demi’s crawled under my skin and sunk in her hooks.
But eventually, we manage to get our clothes on—fresh non-work clothes in Demi’s case—and head into the living room.
The dark jeans that she’s wearing flare out at the bottom, complementing the button-up pink and purple plaid shirt that she’s pulled on. The top three buttons are undone. I lean close to her and undo another so that I can get a better look at her cleavage.
She laughs at me. “You know, this isn’t very hands-off.”
“No, I suppose it’s not,” I say. “But I can’t help it when you’re involved. I like being hands-on with you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You seem like the kind of girl that requires a lot of care.”
Demi kisses me back and then sidesteps me to go put on the coffee. It’s got to be close to seven in the afternoon. The sun is burning the land outside of her living room windows orange. The stallion, Lightning, is prancing back and forth along the fence, tossing his head about and snorting.
“He seems worked up,” I say, when Demi returns to the living room. She slides a hand into one of my back pockets and leans against my side. The touch is intimate, and I find myself wanting even more of it.
“Yeah, he does. That’s strange. He’s not normally like this unless…” Demi trails off, pulling away from me again and stepping out, onto the front porch of the house. I follow her. Heavy clouds are visible in the distance, toward the city of Seattle. The wind is cool for this time of the year, and it’s blowing hard, too.
“Is it the weather?” I ask. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know jack shit about horses. Animals are always more tuned in to the change of weather though. If this storm that’s coming up is going to be even half as bad as the news said, I’m sure that a lot of the animals are going to get worked up.
Demi shakes her head, bitten-red lips pursing. She’s still got that freshly fucked look about her. I love it. “No, that’s not it. Do you see those cars over there?”
I follow her gaze, watching as two rather sharp-looking black cars pull up the long spiraling driveway, toward what I’m assuming is the main farmhouse just behind the hill. “I’m going to guess that those cars aren’t a normal sight.”
“Not even a little bit normal,” she says, frowning. “People don’t go up there. Mindy isn’t really a people person.”
“She’s renting to you, though,” I point out.
“Sure, but that’s different. My mother was friends with her,” Demi explains. “She used to bring me out here all the time when I was a little girl, and then, when I started med school, we would meet up on her days off and go riding. I practically grew up here.”
Her words have a wistfulness that’s impossible to ignore. She must have some amazing memories of this place. I can hardly think of similar ones from when I was little. “I spent most of my childhood in my father’s office. That, and private school.”
“Private school?” Demi turns and leans against the wooden banister that wraps around the porch. “I can’t picture you in a uniform.”
I tug at the front of my shirt. “What do you call these scrubs?”
Teasingly, Demi says, “I thought that they might have just been your style. They look good on you.”
“Then I guess that I look good in a uniform.” I reach around her, bracing a hand on the railing so that I can kiss her again. Another harsh wind blows, catching on her hair. I leave open-mouthed kisses on the side of her neck. “I’ll be honest, you look better out of yours.”