Page 42 of Bordeaux Bombshell
She flinches at the old nickname but answers anyway.
“Payton was already so sick of hearing me talk about you—you were a banned topic even before that.”
There’s a long silence, broken only by the sounds of Sydney shifting beneath her blanket. I don’t even have pockets to shove my hands into. Needing a moment, I slip into my bedroom and pull two pairs of sweatpants from the closet.
I’ve got one leg in when a noise behind me catches my attention. I turn, nearly falling over at the sight of Sydney standing in my doorway. Earlier, I was careful not to look, but now I can see that her tits and ass are being cupped by matching black lace.
As I watch, she pulls the elastic out of her hair, letting her ponytail down, the damp strands falling haphazardly over her shoulders. My mind and heart are suffering an epic case of whiplash, but my dick is locked in and ready to go.
“Sydney—” I finish pulling up my sweats despite my cock springing to life at the sight of her. If she didn’t want to see my dick tenting my gray sweats, she shouldn’t have stood mostly naked in my doorway. “What are you doing?”
“Figuring out if we can move on.”
Nate
“Ifyoutoldmeto get on my knees and crawl across this room, I would.” The words are out before I stop to think. I swallow hard, then keep going. “I will do anything you ask, Sydney, if you’ll just give me a chance to prove myself to you.”
She’s spent nearly two years avoiding this conversation, and now, on a night when we’ve both made complete asses of ourselves, she finally wants to hash things out? With us both naked, needy, and guarded. Her timing always was shit.
Now she’s standing in my doorway, weighing me with her eyes. As if I’m the one who should be on my knees begging for forgiveness, even though she’s the one who just accused me of hiding a secret baby from everyone. And yet, I’m a heartbeat away from doing exactly that.
My heart and my dick are fighting for control of my mouth, but at least they can agree on this—I would army crawl through broken glass if Sydney was waiting for me at the other end.Hearing her say there’s a chance, even more than her willingness to give me her body, makes my next steps obvious.
Win her back.
Never let her go again.
She sighs and leans against the doorway. “You asked me last time if I was tired of fighting.”
“Are you?”
“I’m tired of being angry. I’m tired of my soul screaming inside my chest that everything is wrong, and I don’t know how to fix it.” For a moment, she closes her eyes as if she’s going to fall asleep on her feet.
Instead of crawling, I cross the room in a few strides, one hand sliding behind her back, the other scooping her up behind the knees. I set her on the bed, then cross over to the other side and lie beside her. “If you’re tired, you should rest.”
She laughs, settling on her side against the pillow beside me. “Not that kind of tired, idiot.Emotionallytired. I realize you may not know—”
I cut her off with a kiss, my tongue swiping across the seam of her lips until she opens for me with a sigh. Slowly, lazily, I explore her mouth. The taste of her lips, the tickle of her breath against my skin. We keep going, hands joining in the exploration.
“I may not know what?” Again, I don’t let her answer, stealing the words with another kiss until she’s smiling and pushing me away.
“The difference.”
Leaning forward, I trace the column of her neck and the back of her ear with my nose before whispering, “I know.”
Then I drag the back of my fingers up her ribs and over her shoulder while dropping light kisses along her jaw. “Nate—” My name on Sydney’s lips, whispered in supplication instead of derision, sends a warm tingle down my spine. Tracing along herarm, I take pleasure in the goose bumps that appear beneath my fingers as I continue exploring her.
Despite how intimate we’ve been, her body is still mostly unexplored territory for me. All the times we’ve hooked up, except for the other night, she’s kept me at a literal distance. On my knees devouring her pussy, but never with my hands wandering freely. On her knees, sucking my cock with those pillowy lips, but never closing the chasm between us.
Still using the back of my hand, I sweep my fingers across her collarbones, dipping to the tops of her breasts. Breaking the kiss, Sydney arches her spine, pressing her chest into my touch. I lean down to suck at the lace of her bra, her nipple hardening beneath it. She gasps, and I dive in again, squeezing her waist with my free hand.
The hard tip of her nipple brushes against my lips, the delicate fabric catching briefly on my beard. “Can I?” I ask, sliding my hand to her back and touching the bra clasp.
“If you don’t, I’ll do it myself.” Sydney releases her grip on my torso, but I quickly unsnap the band, beating her to it. She grunts and resumes squeezing my ass.
Rolling her onto her back, I pull said clothing off and toss it to the side. “I didn’t realize that me being respectful was so irritating.” I go back to suckling her breasts, listening to her long sigh when I pull the rosy-pink tip between my teeth.
Sydney stretches out on the bed, her arms above her head, giving me full access. My hands wander down her torso while my mouth continues what I started. My dick aches, desperate for attention, so I grind my hips into the mattress, seeking some relief with the pressure.
