in a silent cry of pleasure that tore through his very soul as he pushed inside.
Wet friction embraced him. Took hold of his sanity and tossed it aside as he drew back and drove deep again, setting a relentless rhythm of triumph and possession.
He had her. Writhing beneath him. Coming apart around him. The clutch of her slick walls urging him to follow. She felt so good…too good…too good…
Nate froze.
Too good.
She felt too good because he wasn’t wearing a condom. Buried inside her, a hair’s breadth from release with the receding waves of Payton’s orgasm pulsing around him, he didn’t dare move.
Control. Where was his control?
His teeth ground together with a series of audible pops as he slowly withdrew. Images of the past six months sliding through his mind, gripping him like icy talons. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Nate?” Her hands smoothed down his chest, her eyes searching. Taunting him with a welcome he couldn’t accept. Yet.
“Condom, Payton,” he managed on a hoarse growl as he found the foil packet he’d never forgotten before.
“Thank God you remembered.” She shook her head, watching him as if he’d managed something remarkable. Well, he’d stopped in time. That was pretty damn remarkable. But the fact that he’d been inside her at all—
Never before. He’d never lost it like that. Never come so close to losing everything.
Never again.
Covering himself, he reached for her. “Now where were we?”
An hour later, they lay sprawled across Nate’s bed, naked beneath a blanket of moonlight. Payton traced patterns across his skin, circling this way and that. Her touch was light. Sweetly exploratory. And arousing all too soon after they’d collapsed together mere minutes before.
This was the point where he typically employed some trusty exit or eject strategy, but tonight the foundation of caring and history he had with Payton was throwing him off. Nothing within his arsenal of disentanglement techniques suitably handled the unprecedented situation with a woman whom was both lover and friend and who he had no intention of letting go. At least not any time soon.
Tucking his chin, he watched her fingertips walk the steps of his ribs, climb higher and then smooth across the center of his chest.
Maybe there wasn’t anything to handle at all. So long as he used his head and a measure of restraint, no one would get hurt.
Yes, he wanted her. Had nearly lost it when he thought he couldn’t have her. But even so, he knew himself—the kind of love that led to marriage and family wasn’t part of his makeup, and this wouldn’t last forever.
As though reading his mind, Payton turned her eyes, soft and vulnerable, to his. “What are we doing?” she asked quietly. “You didn’t want a relationship. You told me. So what is this?” Her question held no accusation, challenge or demand, just a need to know something he didn’t have the understanding to explain.
“No, I didn’t. But nothing turns out the way I expect with you. I think I know how something’s going to play and then suddenly I’m staring open-mouthed at a scenario I couldn’t have predicted. This, what’s between us—” he shook his head “—it’s not common in my life.”
“Mine either. But since neither of us seemed able to ignore it, let’s just enjoy it for as long as this lasts.” She leaned in to kiss him, and he saw the flicker of sadness—remorse maybe—that crept into her eyes. He wanted to make it go away. Only he couldn’t lie to her. Promise something they both knew wouldn’t happen.
What he could offer was the possibility of a scenario he very much hoped would become reality. He ran a finger along her jaw and tipped her face to his. “You know, just because we’re detouring through the jungle now, it doesn’t mean there won’t be a chance to veer back onto the main drag later.”
The fact that it hadn’t happened before didn’t guarantee it never would. This was Payton, after all, and the power of her optimistic determination knew no bounds.
She blinked up at him, her big brown eyes so wide with trust, once again taking him back through the years to a time when she was the only one who saw the potential in him—to her limitless faith.
He didn’t want to let her down. He’d almost done it tonight. Almost let them both down.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen, Payton, but I’ll always care for you.”
She nodded, letting her smile spread. “Then how about we forget about what might happen? Let the future take care of itself and, for now, we’ll have fun.”
She deserved better.
He couldn’t give it to her but neither could he let her go. So he shoved the bitter knowledge aside, focusing instead on the now. Payton in his bed. Smiling. Sexy and bare.
Chapter Thirteen
SATURDAY morning Payton emerged from Nate’s bedroom bleary-eyed and desperate for caffeine. Waking alone, she’d managed to locate her panties and Nate’s discarded tee shirt from the night before, but after minutes of fruitless searching for her jeans she abandoned the quest. Bare-legged, she padded down the hall following the fresh-brewed scent of dark roast coffee.
They’d been to a wine bar for dinner the night before and, though delicious, that third glass was wreaking havoc on her head this morning. Halfway through their first small plate of chorizo-stuffed dates, a couple of Nate’s friends had turned up and joined them bar-side. Not the society crowd Payton was so keen to get away from, just a wonderfully funny and intelligent couple Nate had known for years.
The tone of the evening had been set when Nate introduced her as his girlfriend and she’d choked on her drink and then flushed so red that no one could ignore it. Soon they’d all found themselves laughing about the label, swapping stories about Nate at various ages and overall having such a great time her shaky tolerance was the last thing on her mind.
After, Nate had brought her back to his apartment and proceeded to make love to her until the wee hours of the morning—which invariably had as much to do with the drag in her step as that last glass.
She turned into the kitchen, rubbed a lazy hand at her eye hoping Nate still found ‘puffy’ cute, and poured some coffee.
Nate’s voice sounded from the front room in a low rumble. Probably taking care of some business while she’d been dead to the world in his bed. But noting more rasp than usual, she wondered if perhaps he’d had a glass too many as well. Not likely. Nate didn’t get caught up in excess.
She took a steaming swallow, then cradled the mug at her chest to absorb the warmth both inside and out.
“So it’s true?” The demand filtered down the hall, sounding almost accusatory, and she considered returning to the bedroom. Maybe taking a shower while he wrapped things up.
Then…“Look, it just sort of happened. We haven’t talked since high school, but once we started…you remember what a cool girl she was. Fun, you know?”
She set the mug down on the counter harder than she’d intended, tried to steady it with clumsy hands. This conversation was about her. She stepped back to the hall. She definitely shouldn’t be listening in.
“Is it serious?” Her brow puckered at the croaked question and she slowed her steps. Visualizing Nate’s considering expression. What could he say? It had only been a week since their first night together. And yet they knew each other.
Nate’s exasperated sigh propelled her forward. Toward the conversation rather than away from it. She was in the apartment and he was talking about her. Better to let him know she was awake, before this became something uncomfortable between them. Only it wasn’t until she turned into the