Page 64 of Fierce Love
He searches my face, and I can see the war in his expression, between wondering what’s going on in my head and giving into the pleasure we’re both drowning in.
“Are you okay?” he says, concern for me overtaking his desire.
“I want this,” I say. “I want you. Faster,” I say, bracing myself. “Please.”
“Hols…”
“Please,” I say, breaking eye contact to look out at the ocean, letting myself drown in the intense physical connection rather than suffer at the rocky shore of the emotional one.
He does as I ask, and the edges of my vision start to blur out, my orgasm just out of reach.
“Can you come? God, I’m barely holding on.”
“Keep going,” I say, focused on the horizon.
Then his hips jerk, and he groans just as I crest the wave and catch it. I let out a moan of relief, clutching on to his hand, stilling its rotation on my most sensitive parts.
He kisses my neck, his breath ragged like mine. His hips jerk, driving him deep inside me. It takes us both a few minutes to come down.
“Just a second,” he murmurs near my ear. “I’ll get a cloth.”
He pulls out, and I want to cry at the loss of connection. It’s like there’s a part of me that’s terrified I’m going to lose him again, even if I think that’s the only logical outcome to this whole thing.
He returns with a warm cloth, and he gently cleans me up, sliding my panties back up my legs and into place. He leaves again, and when he comes back, I still haven’t turned around.
“You said you wanted it,” Nate says in a gentle voice, “so why does it feel like you didn’t?”
Tears spring to my eyes, and I keep my back to him. “I did,” I say, my voice thick. “I did.”
“Talk to me, Hols. What’s going on with you?”
“I’m terrified to let you in again,” I say. “And every time we’re together, it feels like you’re unlocking doors I’ve bolted and kept shut just to survive.”
“Maybe we forgive each other one bolt at a time,” he says, his hand on the base of my neck.
“Forgive each other?” I say with a scoff. “What’dyoudo?”
“I gave up. I stopped looking. Even though I was sure what we’d had was real, I didn’t keep pushing to get you back. Instead, I locked all my doors, boarded up my heart. Maybe if I hadn’t let hurt and pride get in the way, we would have worked things out sooner.”
For him to say that when he doesn’t even know why I left, what I did… I just… I shake my head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. And we said we were going to leave all that in the past.”
“Hard to do that,” he says, his tone wry, “when you can’t let it go either.”
A heavy silence sits between us, and then Nate says, “I want to move in here, too, if you’ll let me. I can’t imagine being in Tucker’s Town and wondering if you and Kinsley are safe. Security is great, but I want peace of mind.”
“We said we’d keep this just between us.”
“The house is ten thousand square feet. If we don’t want to see each other, we don’t have to. But I won’t sleep at night knowing you’re here, wondering if you’retrulysafe.”
“You don’t think people will wonder about us if you’re here?”
“I’m going to have a bodyguard with you constantly, and I’m going to get Owen to get permission from Kinsley’s school to do the same there. Because of the connection to Owen, people are probably going to assume, rightly, that I’ve done that. We work together already.” He takes a deep breath. “And a lot of people on the island already know I own this house. It’s just thatyoudidn’t.”
Finally, I turn to face him, and his gaze is laser focused on the bruise on my cheek. As long as that visual reminder is there that my mom can get to me, that she can hurt me, Nate will find a wayto stay close. I can make that hard for him, or I can make that easy.
But in making that easier for him, I’ll be forcing myself to confront some of my past I’d prefer to keep buried. If he’s right and people will make certain assumptions—correct ones, for better or worse—then I’m sure I’ll have someone knocking on my door, reminding me of choices and promises I already made.
“As long as we’re in separate wings of the house,” I say. “Is that possible?”
