Fight with Me
Page 7

“Shoot.”  He passes me the water and we both sit on a plush, light brown couch.  I kick my flats off and pull my feet up under me and settle in.
“If you don’t want to have sex with me, why am I staying overnight?  We could just meet up during the day.”
His beautiful gray eyes turn arctic, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing.
“I didn’t say I don’t want to have sex with you.  I said it’s up to you.  And I want you, here, for a full forty-eight hours.  I don’t want you to run away from me this time.”
He takes a pull off his beer and glares at me.
Okay.
“Any more questions?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“One.  How many other women have you fucked since I was here last?”
Chapter Three
Holy fucking shit!  Why did that just come out of my mouth?
Because I want to know.
Nate’s eyes go wide, and then pissed off again.  “Julianne, if you had been paying attention to me over the past year, you’d have noticed that I’m not interested in any woman, for fucking or otherwise, except you.”
Oh.  Really?
He pulls his sleeves up to his mid-forearms and runs his hands through his hair in frustration, and my eyes zero in on his right arm.
“What is this?”  I scoot closer to him and can’t help but run my fingers down his arm.
“A tattoo.”  A smile tickles his lips and I smile back at him.
“Does it go all the way up your arm?”
“Yes.  It’s a sleeve.”
Oh my God, it’s sexy.  It looks tribal, and it swirls around his forearm, from just above his wrist, disappearing under his shirt.
“So, my conservative-looking, suit-wearing boss has a tattoo and has his penis pierced?” I ask with a smile.
Nate laughs and takes another pull on his beer.  “Yes.  You didn’t seem to mind the piercing, if memory serves correctly.”
And just like that my panties are soaked and I am on fire.  No, I didn’t mind at all.
“No, I don’t mind it.”  I smirk.  “I just didn’t expect it.  How long have you had this?”  I run my finger down his arm again, and Nate grabs my hand and kisses it, then links his fingers with mine and rests them in his lap.
“Since my early twenties.”
“Were you a bad boy?” I ask, teasing him.
“Oh, I think I still am on occasion.”  He’s grinning, a full out grin, and it just takes my breath away.
“You don’t smile enough,” I murmur.
“I don’t?”
“No, you have a great smile.”
“Thank you.  Want to know a secret?”
“Definitely.”
Nate’s still grinning, and he has an edgy, bad boy sparkle in his sexy gray eyes.  He props his gorgeous feet on the ottoman in front of him, crossing them at the ankle.
“Most of my front teeth are fake.”
“What?  Why?”
“Because they got knocked out.”
“Oh my God!  Were you in an accident?”  What the hell happened to him?
Nate laughs, and I’m completely confused.
“No, I used to fight.”
“Fight with whom?”
“With other guys who signed up for it.”
“I’m lost.”  I’m frowning at him.  What the hell is he talking about?
“I used to be a UFC fighter, Julianne.”  He’s still smiling, delighted with himself.
“You do MMA?” I ask.  I shouldn’t be surprised, that’s exactly the kind of body he has.
“You know Mixed Martial Arts?” He asks, his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline.
“Nate, I have four older brothers and a father.  Not only did they all teach me how to protect myself, they made me sit and watch that crap or play it on the xBox all the damn time.  It’s much to their dismay that I wear makeup and love pink.”
“So, you’re a badass, Miss Montgomery?”
“I am, Mr. McKenna.”
“Wanna prove it?”  He’s smiling again, delighted with me, and I’m smiling back at him.  Who knew sitting and talking with Nate could be so easy?
And who knew we’d have so much in common?
“Right now?”
“No, tomorrow.  Come to the gym with me.”
“I don’t know,” I shake my head.  “I might really hurt that pretty face of yours.”
“You think my face is pretty?” He kisses my knuckles, one by one, then leans over and kisses my cheek.
“You know your face is pretty.”
“I know your face is pretty.”
“It’s just a face,” I respond and shrug.  I have always received a lot of attention because of my face, and my body.  It’s just genetics.
Nate narrows his eyes at me, his mouth forming a hard line.  “Julianne, your beautiful face is only out matched by what’s inside you.”
What the fuck?  No one, no man anyway, has ever said anything about what’s inside me.  Unless he was referring to his dick.
I gasp and feel my eyes go wide.  This is why I’m drawn to him.  He completely throws me off kilter.
“Well, aren’t you the charmer?” I ask, trying desperately to lighten the mood.