Nate - Page 16

“George.” I thought back on how he’d looked at me, the questions he’d asked before Hargut and I had left. “It had to have been him.”

Nate shook his head. “Not a chance. He’s been with me since the beginning.”

“He’s sleazy.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he’s a rat.”

“He knew where we were going.” I stood and walked around to the side of his desk, running my fingers along the smooth wood. “He was asking questions.”

Nate followed my movements, his green eyes focused on me in a way that heated my blood. “He’s supposed to ask questions. He’s security.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“I do.” He leaned back as I skirted around the edge of his desk and stood next to him.

When I perched beside him, his nostrils flared.

“How do you know he’s not the rat?”

He sighed and placed his hands on the arms of his office chair. “Because his younger sister and I used to dick down back in the day. She got pregnant.”

Jealousy twisted in my gut like a fish hook. “You have a kid?”

He smirked. “Not quite. I’d been careful, but when she had the baby, she’d told me it was mine. Of course, I’d requested a paternity test. Turned out, it wasn’t mine. But she was desperate, didn’t have money, no job, and the kid would have suffered, so I paid child support anyway. Still do. The kid doesn’t know about me. But George knows what I’m doing for his family. And as long as they’re safe and looked after, which they are, he’s got my back. Mercy creates loyalty. Fear works too, but mercy is the long game.”

I arched a brow. “Mercy creates loyalty, huh? Why can’t you just admit that you wanted to help the kid? You’re a softy at heart. It wasn’t about ensuring loyalty.”

“A softy?” His gaze drifted down my body. “I don’t think so.”

I licked my lips as a familiar pressure slowly built inside me. Just the nearness of him lit up every pleasure sensor I had, priming me for his touch. “You saved me because you’re a softy. Same thing for the boy. You can’t help but do good things.”

“Good things?” He shook his head and gripped the chair arms. “I killed a man today, Sabrina. Shot him in the basement while you slept. Do you know why?” His words should have chilled me. They didn’t.

“Why?” I breathed the word and edged closer to him until my knee touched his.

“Because he took you.” His jaw tightened as he stared up at me. “Because he dared to think he could touch you.”

“Because I’m yours.” The words I’d longed to say to him slipped from my tongue in the easiest confession.

He closed his eyes, as if the words hurt to hear. “I’m going to protect you.”

I shifted until I stood directly in front of him, both our knees touching and my ass pressed against his desk. “Because I’m yours.” I’d say it as many times as I needed to so that he’d understand. I wanted him.

He opened his eyes and leaned forward, placing his palms at my waist. I shivered at his touch, the fire inside me threatening to consume all rational thought. His posture tightened, as if he were just a few threads away from unravelling.

“I swore to protect you. That’s all.” His touch didn’t match his words. He squeezed, his fingers digging into me as he stroked his thumbs back and forth across the fabric of my t-shirt. “I’m going to keep you safe and send you off to college.”

“I’m staying.” I straddled him and sat in his lap, my ass resting on his thighs as he leaned back in his chair.

“We aren’t doing this.” Still, his hands never left me.

I rested my palms on his chest, feeling the rampaging beat of his heart. His hands slid lower, grazing along my hips, then circling around to my ass. When he squeezed, I curled my toes and leaned closer.

I hovered my lips over his, desperate to taste him. “I want you.”

He groaned and flicked his gaze to my lips. “This can’t happen.”

“I’ve waited for you.” I pressed my palms against his cheeks.

His pupils dilated as he slid his hands under my shirt and up my back. “What?”

“I’ve never been with anyone. Because I’m yours.”

“Fuck.” He bit the word as it left his lips.

I moved closer until I could feel the hard length of him against the seam of my jeans. Sensations flickered through me, my need for him so strong it verged on a sickness. He remained still, a silent war raging inside him.

“I’m yours. All of me. Whatever you want.”

“This can’t happen.” He started to push me away.

I pressed my lips to his, tentative at first.

He didn’t do tentative. With a low groan, he gripped my hair and took my mouth with a rough kiss that blasted away all expectations. Even though I was on top, he was in charge. Tilting my head, he slanted his mouth over mine, taking me just how he wanted. His tongue pressed against my lips, and I opened for him. Liquid fire flowed through my veins and pooled in my clit as he took over.

Tags: Celia Aaron Erotic
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