Page 13 of Stepping Into Tomorrow

“That’s it, baby. God, you’re so fucking sexy like this, laid out under me.” His gaze never left hers as Nash slammed his cock deeper and faster into her. His palm splayed over her breast, plucking the nipple and pinching it between his fingers.

Her ears rang, pleasure raking through her. A surge of bliss rammed through her as she soared over the cliff into her second orgasm. She dug her nails into his broad shoulders, her eyes wide, her senses sharpening. A keening cry left her lips as his expression morphed into one of carnal ecstasy. His heated gaze flashed. As his cock pulsed and emptied inside her, he roared. All his walls crashed down for one brief flicker.

His hips slowed. His chest rose and fell against hers as he stared down at her in a half-lidded haze.

She gave him a satisfied smile. “That was amazing.” The best sex of her life actually. I guess that’s what happens when you sleep with a man who’s actually attracted to women.

The open expression on Nash’s face flashed with fear before quickly morphing into stone. The boat lurched, and Bella gripped the sturdy wall. He got up, pulled out of her, and turned away. He slipped the condom off, wrapped it in tissue paper from the small kitchenette, and threw it in a trash can.

Was it not as good for him? Am I really a bad lover after all?

He pulled on his clothes as if the cabin were on fire, not even turning to look at her. It stung. How could the man who’d worshipped her body only moments ago be so cold and shut off now?

Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. But this was how one-night stands went. And technically, she’d gotten what she’d come out here for.

“I’ll get us ready to go back to the docks,” he grumbled before heading up to the top deck, shutting the door behind him, effectively dismissing her.

Isabella rushed to her clothes, slipping them on as she tried to ignore the growing ache in her chest. Her pussy was sore in the best of ways, some of her arousal dripping down her thigh. She grabbed another tissue and cleaned herself up before finishing getting dressed. She couldn’t quite get the zipper up all the way on the dress, but there was no way she was going to ask Nash. She slipped her sweater on, and the sweater he’d given her.

A thump from above sounded. Isabella drew in a deep breath and let it out. Her night of fun had come to an end.

One thing was for sure. She’d never forget Nash, the mostly quiet, broody grump who’d played her body like it was made for him. If only the end didn’t have to come so soon.

5

NASH

Nash ran a hand over his face in frustration as he pulled his truck onto the main road.

“I had fun tonight,” Bella said in the passenger seat beside him.

His stomach hardened as guilt slashed through his chest. He clenched the steering wheel and stepped a little harder on the gas. The sooner he could get her to The Lighthouse Inn, the sooner he could put this night behind him.

“Thanks for taking me fishing . . . and uh, well, for everything.” She tried again.

Nash didn’t respond. It was better this way. He’d made the mistake of being friendly with one of his hookups and she’d thought they had a future because of it, despite him being clear before they’d fucked that it was a one-time thing. That was why his hookups were rare.

He’d never met anyone like Bella before. It was a good thing she didn’t live nearby. He’d be tempted to break his one-time-only rule. But that would muddy the waters. And Nash couldn’t do complicated.

I just fucked Bella on a boat named after my fiancée. God, he was a bastard. The last time he’d seen Ana five years ago was burned into his memory. The hurt—the anger. All of it directed at him. His shoulders hunched as his stomach burned with bile.

Thankfully, Bella had given up on conversation, instead opting to stare out the window, her arms tucked tightly against her chest.

The lights from the white Victorian-style inn came into view. He slowed and slipped into one of the parking spaces.

Bella unzipped his sweatshirt and left it on the seat between them. She opened her door but turned to face him.

“I . . .” She hesitated, her expression glimmering as if she were fighting a war within herself. She chewed on her lip, now free of lipstick.

“You should get inside,” he said.

She swallowed, her focus darting nervously around the cab of the truck, the seat—anywhere but him. “I just . . . I have one question. And I want honesty, even if you think it will hurt my feelings.”

Shit. She was going to ask to see him again. He tensed.

“Am I a bad lover?” Her voice was so quiet he questioned whether he’d heard her right.

He jerked his attention towards her. Insecurities shone in her big brown eyes. Someone sure had done a number on her.

---