Fight with Me
Page 60

“I need to be inside you, baby.”
I reach between us and wrap my hand around his cock, pull up and down once, then guide the tip to my folds and lower myself onto him.
“Fuck, you’re so small,” he growls.
“Fuck, you’re so big,” I respond and smile, my forehead resting on his.  He grins wolfishly and begins raising and lowering me over him steadily, ignoring the water splashing over the side, and we are in a whirlpool of lust.  I can’t get enough of him. I’m squeezing around his length, his piercing is brushing along that most sensitive spot, and I feel the familiar tightening of my muscles around him.
“I’m going to come,” I whisper.
He grips my hips and pulls me against him, grinding into me, his feral gray eyes on mine, and growls, “Let go.”
And I do.
Chapter Twenty Four
I wake early, before Nate for a change.  We are naked, tangled in soft white sheets.  Nate is on his back, one hand thrown over his head, covered from the waist down, and I brace my head on my elbow, admiring the view of his amazing tattoos, long hair, and dark chin stubble. His arms, chest and stomach are deliciously toned, even in sleep.
Fuck, he’s a feast for the eyes.
I sit up and stretch, glancing outside.  The storm has passed, leaving the beach just a little messy with debris.  I get up to answer nature’s call, throw on some capris jeans and a sweatshirt, pull my hair up in a knot, grab my flip flops and head down to the water.
I should let Nate know that I’m going out, but he’s so sleepy, I decide to leave him be and make him breakfast when I get back.
When I get to the gazebo, I’m amazed to find that the caterer did indeed come back and clean up.  The space has been returned to its original state.  Amazing, I didn’t even hear them.
I reach the bottom of the stairs and kick off my flip flops, wiggling my toes in the sand, and take a deep, deep breath.  The air is salty and just a bit musty from the storm.  Seagulls are flying around, scouring the sand for food, and the water is crashing on the shore in white clouds, then pushing out onto the sand in sheets of wet glass.
I can’t wait to put my feet in it.
I walk down to the edge of the water and stand still, waiting for the water to rush forward and engulf my feet and ankles.  Oh my, it’s so cold!  I giggle and do a little dance in the water, splashing about, getting used to the cold, looking down at my toes.
I need a pedicure.  Maybe I’ll call Nat and see if she wants to go with me after work this week.
Work.  I’m not ready to go back.
“There you are.”
I hear Nate call from behind me and I turn to smile at him.  He’s pulled on his jeans and a sweatshirt, but he’s not smiling.  He looks pissed.
Great.
“What’s wrong?” I ask and walk toward him.
“You were gone when I woke up again.”
“Uh, you were asleep, Nate.  I just came down to the beach for a bit. Where else would I go?”
“I hate waking up and finding you gone.  Bad memories.” He hugs me to him and kisses my hair. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ll wake you next time and tell you I’m up.” I pull out of his arms, but link my fingers in his. “Take your shoes off.  I’m not done wading in the water.”
“It’s cold.” He frowns down at me. “I don’t want you to get sick.”
“Oh stop, I won’t get sick.  C’mon, it’s fun.”
Nate removes his shoes, rolls his pants to his knees and we walk through the water down the shoreline.
“I’m not ready to leave,” I murmur and take a deep breath of salty air.
“We don’t have to head back until this evening if you like.” He kisses my knuckles and smiles at me.
“I know. I guess I’m not ready to go back to work tomorrow either.” I shrug. “Probably not something I should admit to my boss, I know, but there it is.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing,” I wave his statement aside. “There’s no drama. I’m just not a great actress, and the whole ‘you’re my boyfriend at home but just my boss at work’ thing is tiresome. By the end of the week I’m exhausted from being afraid that I’ll say or do something inappropriate.”
“You know, baby, if you ever decided you didn’t want to, you don’t have to work.”
I laugh and kick the water, splashing. “Right. I do have to work, Nate.”
He pulls us both to a stop and looks down at me with serious eyes. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” I shake my head and rub my forehead. “I like my job. I’m good at it. And yes, I’ve been smart and I have a nice sized nest egg, along with a bit of an inheritance, but I do have to work, babe.”
“I can take care of you,” he whispers. Oh, I love him.
“But you shouldn’t have to, that’s the thing.” I start walking again through the water and Nate follows me. “Besides, what would I do if I didn’t work? I’d go crazy. I’m not crafty. I hate TV. I need to do stuff.”
“You are too crafty. What about making more signs like the one you gave Natalie for the nursery?”
“Oh no,” I laugh up at him and shake my head. “That was a one-time thing. It was fun, but I’m not artistic.”