Page 36 of Wild Tonic
Before the door was shut, both of them were already shedding their clothes.
“God, I love that lingerie company of yours,” breathed Nate, his eyes fixed on her body.
Clem had deliberately selected a sheer quarter-cup vanilla lace bra peppered with tiny stars and matching sheer panties that covered nothing and showed everything.
“Gotta test out the new ranges, haven’t I?” She laid back on the bed, propped up against the pillows and stretched one leg out in front of her, bending the other at the knee and placing it against her opposite thigh.
“Jesus, Clem.” Nate joined her, sliding his body between her legs and bracing his hands either side of her hips.
She could feel his cock hard against her and wanted him deep inside. It seemed he had other ideas as he bent his head towards her clit, his tongue moving against her through the sheer material of her underwear. Clem bucked underneath his touch, clutching at the pillows. As she was starting to climb towards the peak, Nate withdrew and sat back on his heels. She pouted, wriggling around on the bed, disappointed at his abrupt abandonment of her needs.
“Why did you stop?”
One side of Nate’s mouth curved up into a smile, his pupils dilating so his eyes were almost completely black. “I have other talents to make you beg for more.” He wiggled his fingers at her. “Not just confined to playing guitar.”
Clem frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Want me to show you just how talented these fingers are?”
A giggle escaped from her lips, wholly inappropriate for the level of heated excitement she felt. If he didn’t finish what he’d started, she was going to have to do it herself. Almost as if he read her mind, Nate pulled Clem’s own hand down, pushing it inside the flimsy band of her knickers.
“Why don’t you show me what you like?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nate closed the door and smiled. He went back downstairs, leaving Clem to sleep.
When the others had come back from the Festival, they’d all joined up in the games room, chatting and drinking shots. When Liam produced a joint again, Nate’s opinion of him almost changed. Only slightly though. He had still needled Nate about not having a ‘proper’ job and seemingly lorded it over him with his wealthy, banker lifestyle. There was a bit of whose-dick-is-bigger, which Nate was sure he’d won with the fact he’d played at The Wilde Park Festival. Clem had announced it was time for her to go to bed because she’d drunk too much tequila and he’d taken her up to their room as the rest of the group carried on drinking. However, by the time he got back to the games room, it was empty.
Nate helped himself to a glass of whisky from the decanter on the side and settled down in one of the huge leather sofas that flanked the fireplace. He sipped the drink, savouring the smoky, peaty flavour and licked his lips. The whisky tasted a little different to how it had done earlier in the evening. He glanced over at the decanter. As the only one drinking it, he hadn’t realised quite how much he’d got through. Maybe the amount of weed he’d smoked was having an effect on his taste buds. Luckily, it was his safe drink, and he would be unlikely to experience the same level of hangover that Clem would the following day.
Not ready to call it a night just yet, he pulled his phone from his pocket and started idly scrolling through social media. He wasn’t surprised to see that Clem had posted several pictures on Instagram. They were mostly of her and her friends, rather than him, which suited him fine. Despite the popularity of Blood Stone Riot, he was still uncomfortable about having his every move played out in public. Thankfully, so far at least, Clem understood and left him out mostly, although there were a couple of shots of just the two of them. He turned his attention to a sports website instead, reading about a potential transfer target for North Ridge Athletic. He was so engrossed in the story that he didn’t hear someone enter the room.
“Mind if I join you?”
Nate looked up.
Anastasia Green stood in the doorway, a glass of wine in one hand. The last time Nate had seen her, she had been curled up in Liam’s lap. He shrugged, then smiled. “Sure, go ahead.”
Anastasia joined him on the sofa and sat at the opposite end to him, her legs tucked underneath her. “Where’s Clem?”
“Comatose. I think that last round of shots did her in. I tucked her up in bed about ten minutes ago.”
“She never could handle her drink, that girl.” Anastasia laughed.
There was an uneasy silence that Nate was unsure how to fill. Here he was, sitting in his current girlfriend’s holiday house with her sworn enemy. He already felt uncomfortable.
It was Anastasia who broke the lull. “What’s going on with you? I mean, I know you’re seeing Clem and you’re this big rock star, but what do you actually see in her?” She used imaginary quote marks around the word ‘see’, clutching her wine glass between her thighs.
“I don’t think that’s got anything to do with you, has it?”
“Depends whether or not you want to know about her shagging around when she was with Liam.”
“Really? I don’t think that’s the case. More the other way around as I heard it. I thought you were one of the other parties he was meant to be sleeping with?”
“Oh, Nate, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” Her hand crept over to stroke his thigh and Nate flinched. “Liam’s always been a player and Clem knew it. If she didn’t want to get screwed over, she shouldn’t have started screwing him.”
The blunt tone surprised Nate. He knew that in certain circles sleeping with the entirety of the group was acceptable. If he looked at his own friendship group, there was definite evidence of it. Clem didn’t seem the type though.
