Nitro's Torment
Page 49

 Nina Levine

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I knew what she was saying. Since I shut down on her and retreated from life. “Yeah, it’s nice.”
A knock on my front door interrupted us and I ended the call after promising that we would definitely have a night out soon.
The new lightness I felt was both strange and wonderful. I’d come home from the therapy session and cried for an hour and then slept for two. When I woke, it was as if the tears and the sleep were therapy in themselves. I woke with a desire to cook dinner and watch television. I couldn’t remember the last time I looked forward to such simple things.
I reached the front door and checked in the peephole to see who it was. My belly fluttered at the sight of Nitro standing on the other side. And in that moment, I knew the therapist was right. Again. I did know whether I wanted to see him again. The proof was in the way my body responded to him, the way my heart sped up when he was near.
I opened the door and smiled as our eyes met. “Nitro.”
Heat flared in his gaze. He couldn’t even hide it and I wasn’t sure he was trying to. The way he looked at me made me think he’d come here for something other than club business. “We need to talk.”
I moved aside. “Okay.”
He stepped inside and I followed him into the house. We’d almost made it to the kitchen when he suddenly turned to me, snaked his arm around my waist and pushed me up against the wall. Pressing his body hard to mine, his fingers worked their way into my hair and his mouth found mine.
Every inch of my skin burned with desire. I thought I’d seen passion from Nitro. I thought he’d given every piece of himself when he’d fucked me. I hadn’t seen anything yet. Nitro gave new meaning to intensity with this kiss. With the way his whole body commanded my attention and demanded I give him what he wanted.
When he ended the kiss, eyes full of hunger lingered on my mouth for a beat. He then shifted his gaze to meet mine. His hands remained in my hair, his body against mine. “I can’t go another night without you, Vegas.”
His raspy voice, full of raw need, washed over me. God, how I’d missed this voice. Missed this man.
I slid my hands up his body to take hold of his face. Pulling it down to mine, I took his passion and I raised it. I kissed him for what felt like forever. When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless, panting for more. “Thank fuck,” I said as I practically crawled up his body.
He held me tightly and walked us into my bedroom while I wrapped everything I had around him.
Legs.
Arms.
Hands.
Feet.
Hope.
 
 
29
 
 
Nitro
 
 
“It Goes Like This” by Thomas Rhett
 

I traced lazy circles over Tatum’s hip while she slept. It was still dark outside, but I couldn’t sleep. I’d woken up hard as hell for her and that need had only grown the more I watched and touched her. I hadn’t meant to, but I passed out after I fucked her last night. The sex had been intense. Fuelled by all the fucked-up emotions inside of me. She’d thrown her shit at me, too. I’d felt it in the way she clung and clawed and marked me with her teeth. It had been off the charts and had completely wiped me so that I slept for seven straight hours afterwards. Sleeping that long was something I never did.
She stirred and rolled over. Still half asleep, she swung a leg over my body. Next came her arm, which landed across my chest, her hand snaking under me. She rested her head in the space between my shoulder and face. I thought she would fall back asleep, but she surprised me when her mouth kissed my skin, a small moan escaping.
Placing my hand on her ass, I murmured, “Morning, Vegas.”
She kissed her way from my chest, up my throat, to my mouth. Pulling my bottom lip between her teeth, she met my gaze and smiled. Her knee then dug into the mattress and she moved to sit on top of me.
My eyes dropped to her tits. I fucking loved her tits. Could spend hours with my mouth on them. That morning, though, she had other ideas.
Tilting my face back up, she demanded, “Tell me how this is going to go down between us.”
I gripped her hips and rocked up against her. “Fuck, I like this bossy side of you. It’s making me harder than I already was.”
She didn’t smile. “I need to know, Nitro.”
“As in you want a play-by-play of the next ten years or you want to know if I’ve just come for a quick fuck?”
She sat back and ran her hands through her hair. Again, my eyes were drawn to her tits. Couldn’t help myself. “Fuck,” she muttered. “She’s fucking right. Shit.”
I watched in fascination as Tatum lost her shit. I didn’t know what she was rambling about, but it was sexy as hell seeing her do it. When a pained look crossed her face, I pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. “You know how hot you look when you do that?”
She scowled as she smacked my hand away. “I’m here having a mental breakdown and all you’re thinking about is fucking me?”
I grinned, loving this. “This ain’t anything new. I’m always thinking about fucking you.”
She seemed to like that because her expression softened. But she kept up the hard-ass routine. “Yeah, well maybe you could think about something other than pussy for a minute.”
“I could think about tits instead, or ass. Or tits and ass. Hell, I could even get on board thinking about your mouth wrapped around my cock.”
She rolled her eyes, but I saw the amusement there. “Who knew you could be so playful, Nitro?”
I smacked her ass lightly. “Okay, tell me who is right.”
“Huh?”
“Before… you were muttering something about some woman being right. What did you mean?”
She sighed. “My therapist. She says these things to me that I don’t agree with at the time, but then I’m always proven wrong. It drives me fucking crazy.”
My respect for Tatum only grew in that moment. “What did she say that was right this time?”
“She told me that perhaps I didn’t always need to be looking into the future trying to figure out how situations would turn out to decide whether to pursue them. I argued with her, but just now when you asked me about seeing ten years down the track, it made me think that maybe she was right. Maybe I don’t need to think that far ahead with you.”