Page 55 of Broken Hearts

“Mind your damn business, Nate,” Alana barks at him, narrowing her eyes. “I’m working on it. It’s been tough. You should know that better than anyone.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he mutters, going over to the fridge. He pulls out a beer, not bothering to offer one to Alana, but I get it. He wants her to leave, and as rude as it is, I would like her to go too.

I shift around, crossing my legs as I try to dull the ache between my thighs. Shit, if I’m aching like this, I can’t even imagine what Nate is dealing with.

“Did you get my text?” Alana now says, directing her question at me. I didn’t bother to look at it, too wrapped up in the idea of having dinner with Nate.

“I did, but I didn’t read it yet. I’m sorry. What’s up?”

“My roommates and I are going to be making some leis for Mitch’s memorial service. You want to help us?” Alana asks, her words sweet and comforting. “It’s this thing we do.”

“I’d love to,” I reply, and Nate lets out a hard exhale of disappointment, and I quickly add, “But I have plans tonight.”

Alana doesn’t say anything, her gaze moving from me to Nate and back to me again. “Plans with Nate?” she now asks, wrinkling up her nose.

“Just dinner and drinks to thank him for the surf lesson,” I say, again sounding like we’re hiding something.

“How about tomorrow then?” she quickly says, smiling.

“Perfect.”

“I gotta go finish up payroll at the shop, but I’ll see you tomorrow,” Alana says, tossing a thumb toward the door. “You want to meet at my house around six?”

I nod, but Alana seems to know something is going on, as she looks again at me and then back to Nate.

“Bye, Alana,” Nate says, his words a little demanding and he begins to walk toward the door, moving his hands as if he’s trying to fan her out the door.

She follows him, and when he opens the door, she steps outside, but not before asking, “What the hell is going on with you two?” Pushing up on her toes, she looks over Nate’s shoulder, calling out to me, “Sage, what’s going on?”

“Bye, Alana,” Nate says, slamming the door in her face.

“Oh my god, Nate! That was so rude.” My mouth falls open, letting out a laugh as I shake my head.

“Don’t worry, she’ll get over it. Just be prepared for questions tomorrow.” He stops, watching me as I lean on the counter. He wets his lips, and I swallow hard.

“Where were we?” I ask, my words low and seductive.

“I don’t remember,” Nate replies, stalking over to where I’m standing. He backs me up against the counter, his body flush against mine.

He captures my mouth with his, his hands tangling in my hair, and with that, we’re back to where we were. My body calling out for him, my undies drenched and his hard-on pressing into my hip.

His fingers dance along the waistband of my cut-off shorts, dipping down and caressing my bare skin. His gaze never leaves mine as his fingers deftly undo the button on my shorts, sliding the zipper down slowly.

“I think you mentioned…” I start to say, my breath catching, and I let out a gasp as he pushes my cut-offs to the floor, leaving me in just my underwear.

He drops to his knees in front of me, looking up my body with a gorgeous smirk on his face. “Beaver panties,” he laughs, leaning forward, he swipes his tongue along my clit through the thin fabric of my underwear.

“I didn’t know we’d be doing this,” I reply, my face heating up.

Why the hell did I put the stupid beaver underwear on? Who the hell wears underwear with beavers on them? Me.

“I fucking love them,” Nate growls, his fingers hooking into the sides of my panties, and with his eyes still on me, tortuously slowly, he slides my undies down my legs, letting them pool at my feet.

Gripping my waist, his fingers dig in as he lets out a groan of appreciation when he sees me. My entire body tenses, the dull ache between my thighs turning to a dying need.

I tangle my hands in his hair, wanting to pull him to me, wanting his mouth on me, desperate and aching. My heart is pounding in my chest, feeling like it’s missing every other beat, and my knees nearly give out when he swipes his tongue through my wetness.

“Oh my god,” I call out, and when Nate looks up at me, his gaze deep and dark, seduction looming between us, I tell him what I want.

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