Page 52 of Defending her Heart

My legs quiver, and I’m pretty sure my jeans have a giant-ass wet spot now. “I don’t know. Wake me up when you finally find it.”

“Brat.” He nips again and releases the hand above my waist.

When I think he’s going to shove his hand down the front of my jeans, he surprises me by picking me up and wrapping my legs around his hips.

“Be quiet.” He sucks my bottom lip between his as he carries me up the stairs. Instead of turning toward his bedroom, he takes a left and opens the door to the last guest room.

I shouldn’t care that he doesn’t want to fuck me in his bed. That would be too intimate. Too personal. I’ve never been in his private space before, and what we agreed to isn’t empty promises and soft words.

“This room is the farthest from Paisley’s, but you’re still gonna have to keep your screams to a soft purr.”

My heart shouldn’t flutter. Nash hasn’t said anything endearing, but I appreciate knowing why he brought me to this bland guest room. It’s not even the one I stayed in when I watched Paisley. It’s the sparest of all spare rooms.

“How do you know I’m a screamer?”

“You’re loud when you talk. There’s no way you’ll be able to keep it down when I make you come.”

“You’re assuming you can make me come.”

“I don’t assume.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re going to come so fucking fast the first time.”

“Thefirsttime?” Shit. I said that out loud.

Nash smirks and drops me on the bed. “Don’t tell me you’ve never come more than once.”

Fine. I won’t. “How about you? How long do you need to recover before getting it up again?”

Nash climbs on the bed, his knees on either side of my hips. “We’re only doing this one time, Kendall. But I’ll make you come all night long before I do. I promise you that.”

Turned on or pissed off, I’m not sure which feeling is strongest. I thought we’d do this friends-with benefits thing on the regular. At least twice a week. Or once. I’d settle for once a week, but not onceever.

The promise of multiple orgasms—a promise I doubt he can deliver on—is nice though. I’ve tried, well, Jason tried, to give me multiples. I can get close but I kinda fake it the second time. Not that sex wasn’t good with Jason, but he didn’t do the dirty talk stuff like Nash.

“Where’d you go?” Nash is peering down at me, and I blink away my thoughts.

“Just hanging out waiting for you to fulfill your promises.”

“Smart ass.” He covers my mouth with his, then his hand finds my boob.

My nipples have never been this sensitive. His giant hand massages me then lifts my sweater and cups me over my bra. He tweaks my nipple and pulls down my bra.

My hips lift on their own account, and I shamelessly rub my jean-covered clit against his jean-covered cock. Too many layers. I reach for the button of his jeans, but he drags his body lower and latches on to my nipple with his teeth while his hand massages my other boob.

“Nash.” My fingers tug at his hair and push him harder into me at the same time.

Fuck. I’m so close. If he keeps at this, I’m going to come before he touches me between my legs.

Reading my mind, he slides a hand down my rib cage, cupping my waist and massaging my skin before dipping his hand lower to my jeans. I should have worn a skirt for easy access, but I didn’t want to appear...easy.

Next time, I’ll wear something faster to get off. If there is a next time. Nash is under the stupid impression that once is going to be enough. Not if I have anything to say about it.

When his hand works my zipper down and he slips beneath my underwear and into my wet heat, I nearly catapult off the bed.

“Christ, Kendall. You’re fucking soaked.”

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