Mark took a swig of his brew. “She said when I got my headout of my ass, I could take her out for coffee. Coffee!” he chuffed. “I nearlyleft it there. But what she said started to sink in. The way I looked at theworld started shifting until one day a switch flipped on. I decided I could bea victim, or I could take control.” He clacked his bottle against Nelson’s.“That day I realized I had something to offer. I wasn’t a loser, and I was gonna be okay.”
Absentmindedly shredding the label on his bottle, T.J. letunasked questions bob up in his mind. Was he choosing victimhood? If hetook control, which version of himself would emerge? Hisbrutish father’s clone, or the man he saw reflected in Natalie’s eyes?
CHAPTER 30
Done and Dusted
The next morning, T.J., dripping,stepped from Natalie’s shower and looked around himself.“Nat? Sweetheart? Is there a clean towel somewhere?”
The door opened, and she poked her head in, swept her eyesover him with an approving smile, then pulled a thick towel from a cupboard andhanded it to him.
“If you’re gonna stay here everynight, you need to figure out where things are.”
This was new for him, staying with a girlfriend twenty-four-seven. He’d always kept his distance, but withNatalie, he couldn’t stay away. Another first for him: they’d stoppedusing condoms, relying on her birth control. The feel of her that first timehad annihilated any qualms.
“Well, you weren’t here, taking a shower with me,even though I asked nicely,” he winked at her, “and I didn’t want to rifle yourstuff.”
“You can rifle my stuff anytime, big boy.”
With a headshake and a half-smile, he unfolded the towel andwrapped it around his waist, surprised at its size. “Big towel.”
She canted her head. “I bought you a bath sheet.”
“You bought me my own towel?” The thought warmed him allover.
“You have a lot of real estate to cover.”
His smile widened. “Why, thank you, Ms. Foster. That’s thenicest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
An eye-roll. “Cocky jerk. I meant your general,” she wavedher hand up and down, “tallness. Nothing’s big enough for that ego ofyours.”
Her feistiness had his dick twitching appreciatively. Sheturned, giving him a seductive over-the-shoulder look, and he followed herswaying ass into the bedroom. Like a puppy. With its tongue hanging out. She owns you, Shanny.
Whip fast, he lunged, reeled her in, and wound his armsaround her. He lowered his mouth to her neck and went to work.
“Stop!” she gasped between delightful squeals.
“Not until you apologize for being a smartass,” he mumbledagainst her skin. She smelled sweet and tasted even better.
Unintelligible words pitched from her.
“What’s that?”
“N-no ap-apple …”
He intensified his hold, trapping her in his arms. Mouthlocked on her neck, tongue lashing her skin, he walked her backward.
“No apples? Not hungry? Too bad because I’ve got somethingfor you.”
Oh, this was fun—and a colossal turn-on.
She inhaled sharply, which made her chest swell against his.
“No ap-apologies,” fled from herin one breathless rush.
He’d maneuvered them to the edge of the bed, and when he lether go, he pushed her none too gently on her back. Laughing so hard she was snortingnow, she rolled to her side, but he yanked her leg back so she was splayedwide. And then he pounced, pinning her beneath him with his weight, settlingbetween her legs. She wriggled, but he was too heavy, and she couldn’t budgehim. He grasped her slender wrists and pulled them up over her head,effortlessly holding them in one hand. This left his other hand to roam freely,and he took full advantage, pulling her T-shirt up and unfastening her bra in afew deft moves.
Laughter thundered in his chest, but he quickly reined it inand put on a stern face. His fingers zeroed in on her stiffening nipple andteased it into a tight, round pearl he ached to gethis mouth on.
“Do you know what happens to bad girls who don’t apologize?”
Her hips writhed with everything they had as she beganwiggling out from under him. He threw out a leg and corralled her.
“Love means never having to say you’re sorry!” she shrieked.
“Hold up,” he panted. “Did you use a cheesy old movie quoteto say the L-word?”
She stilled and stared at him with her big doe eyes. God,she was beautiful. Hands still trapped above her head, everything about hersoftened, and she nodded slowly, a hesitant smile forming on her face. “Is itokay that I say I love you?”
His heart caught fire. He thought it might combust. “Yeah,it’s okay,” he rasped. Because I fucking love you too.
Time took a long pause. He became acutely aware of her chestrising and falling under his, her warm breath on his lips, and her soft fleshbeneath his fingertips. Alarms were going off in his head, but his consciousbrain checked out, putting up a “Gone Fishing” sign.
Her eyes dropped to his mouth, then languidly slid back up.“Aren’t you going to show me what you do to bad girls?”
His cock, which had been paying attention during theirplaytime, steeled into a ramrod ready to slam its charge home. He was drunk onher, addicted, forever needing the next fix.
She loves me.
Her hands were relaxed in his, her body pliant beneath him.Long and lean, she arched her back like a cat stretching in a patch ofsunshine, thrusting her breast fully into his palm. Lifting her chin to his,she purred, “Put your mouth on me, T.J.”
Holy fuck!
Breath stuttering in his chest, a beat or three passedbefore he recovered his few remaining wits, released her hands, and made quickwork of his towel and her clothes. Then he climbed back on top of her anddipped his head, laving her nipple before his mouth closed around it. She letout a long, throaty moan and plowed her fingers through his hair, angling hishead where she wanted it. He didn’t fight her. Couldn’t.
She loves me.
She could’ve dragged his naked ass across an icy rink and hewouldn’t have cared.
Instead, he worshipped and served her as though she were ahigh priestess and he her slave. Whatever she wanted, he gave her with abandon.He delighted in her, sucking, skimming, licking, nipping, kissing, tugging,tasting,
