Brett watching him. He smiled at the boy, who started to smile back, then instead turned away. Ironically, Nash knew exactly what the kid was thinking. He still saw Nash as a threat.
He thought about trying to reassure Brett again, but figured there wasn't any point. He, Nash, hadn't listened to Howard all those years ago. Why would Brett listen to him? Still he wished he had the right words. Life would be easier for Brett if he understood, just as life would have been a whole lot easier for Nash if he'd known that Howard wasn't a problem. All those wasted years when they could have been close.
He hated the regrets. The 'could have beens.' And he didn't just have them with Howard. Whatabout his regrets with Tina? Their marriage had never been picture-perfect. Maybe if he'd worked harder to make it better. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so damn guilty all the time. Maybe His brain cleared. It was as if he'd been looking through a fog for the last two years, since the day of his wife's death.
Haltingly, almost afraid of what he would see, he looked at his brothers and their wives and fiancees. He looked at their faces, their eyes, and the way they were always touching. Husbands and wives in love with each other.
Love. That's what had been wrong with his marriage. He'd gone through the motions, but that's all it had been. He should never have married Tina because he'd never loved her. And it had taken him the better part of two years to figure that out.
Chapter Thirteen
Stephanie watched the clock impatiently. It was 11:27. She and Nash had agreed she would head downstairs at 11:30. After some debate they'd decided it would be easier for her to explain her presence going up to her own floor than for him to say why he was heading down from hers.
In theory there was no reason to sneak. While it was best her children didn't know that she and Nash had become intimate, would it really matter to his parents? Not that she was going to suggest they spill the beans. In a way, having to wait heightened anticipation. She was already trembling slightly at the thought of seeing him and there was a definite heaviness low in her belly. One would think they had made love enough times for some of the thrill to be fading, but one would be wrong.
Two more minutes passed. At exactly 11:30, shepicked up her shoes, a travel alarm set for four in the morning and tiptoed out of her room. She made it down the hall to the stairs without making a sound then headed to the floor below.
At the third stair from the bottom, she stepped as close to the wall as possible to avoid the creaky step, then reached the second level and headed for Nash's room.
The door was already open. She stepped inside, prepared to remind him that she had to make it back to her own bed before anyone was stirring, but she wasn't given the opportunity to speak.
He'd been standing in the center of the room, just out of the pool of light given off by the bedside lamp. As she entered, he crossed to her and pulled her close. As his arms wrapped around her body, his mouth settled on hers. The deep, sensual, demanding kiss turned her bones to liquid.
She melted against him. Wanting flooded her, barely giving her enough time to drop her shoes and set the clock on the dresser. The door closed with a soft thud, then Nash's hands were everywhere-her back, her hips, her waist, her breasts.
They'd been together enough times that he knew what she liked, what she loved and what made her scream with delight, and he used that knowledge to reduce her to a quivering shell of need. His long fingers gently massaged the curves of her breasts, moving closer to her already tight nipples without actually touching them. Anticipation built inside her.
She squirmed closer, silently begging him to touch her there, but he was slow to respond. Closer and closer still until his thumbs lightly brushed over the tips of her nipples. One brief caress, then he was gone.
She groaned her frustration. Determined to tease him as much as he teased her, she withdrew from the kiss and began to suck on his lower lip. At the same time, she cupped his rear, digging her fingers into the firm flesh and bringing his arousal more closely in contact with her stomach. They both caught their breath.
“I want you,' Nash breathed. 'Naked.' His words increased her need, delighting her. In a smooth dance they'd performed before, they broke apart and quickly tugged at their clothes. She finished first and slid onto the cool sheet. Nash followed.
They lay facing each other, his leg between hers, his thigh pressing against her swollen dampness. As they kissed, he cupped her left breast. Their tongues stroked and played. When he retreated, she followed. His taste, his heat, his hardness all inflamed her. She could not be naked enough with this man. She wanted to be vulnerable, hungry and bare to him. Yes, she wanted the pleasure to follow, but for now it was enough to want him.
When he urged her onto her back, she went easily. He broke the kiss and knelt between her thighs. His mouth settled on her chest. As his tongue swept over and around the tight nipple, his fingers matched the action on her other breast. Her muscles tightened as pleasure poured through her, trickling down to increase her growing ache. She felt herself swelling, readying. Already she wanted him inside her, but that was for later. First Nash would want to make her beg.
He kept his attention on her breasts until she was close to breaking. Tension filled her body, making every muscle stiffen. When she nearly vibrated with need, he moved lower, placing openmouthed kisses on her belly, then lower still.
He reached for her hands and brought them to her center, where he had her part herself for him. She drew her knees back and dug her heels into the mattress. Her eyes were closed, but she knew he was close-she could feel his warm breath fanning her dampness. She was ready, so ready. Ready and aching. Her hips pulsed in silent invitation. And still he waited.
At last he moved close and pressed his tongue against her. Fire shot through her, making her jump and gasp. The single, slow lick was followed by another and another. Gentle, easy strokes that drove her to the edge of madness. He didn't go fast enough to take her to climax, but he didn't let the tension fall off, either.
She strained to get more pressure, she rocked her hips to get him to go faster. Neither worked. She tried begging.
“Nash, please.' She felt the rumble of his laughter. In response to her plea, he inserted a finger inside her then curled it slightly, so it seemed to stroke her from the inside as his tongue did the same from the outside. He moved them in tandem. Slowly. Gently. Thoroughly. Bottom to top. Top to bottom. Over and over. Like the ticking of a clock. Ever so steady. Ever so slow.
Her entire body clenched. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but focus on that incessant rhythm. Over and over. Tension grew and grew until she thought it would split her in two. More. She needed more. She needed He stopped completely. For the space of three heartbeats he hovered above her, not touching, not moving. Nothing. The wait was unbearable. Then he kissed her again, but more firmly this time, and faster.
She climaxed without warning. The release swept through her at the speed of sound, flinging her into paradise and making her cry out. Muscles contracted, her entire body spasmed in perfect pleasure. She was out of control and she never wanted that to change.
He continued to touch her, gentling the contact, until she had nothing left.
She opened her eyes and saw him smiling at her. She had to clear her throat before she could speak.
“That was more amazing than usual,' she told him. 'Which is saying something.'
“You're easy to please.'
“I'm glad you think so.' She lowered her gaze and saw that he was still hard. Her stomach clenched.
“I want you inside me,' she said.
Words to live by, Nash thought as he reached for the condom he'd left on the nightstand. As he slipped it on, he studied the flush on Stephanie's chest and cheeks. The physical proof of her orgasm pleased him. He wanted her to enjoy their time
When he'd put on the protection, he slowly pushed into her. She was hot and wet. As he filled her, her muscles contracted around his erection, testing his control. He forced himself to hold back. He wanted her to come again.
Still kneeling, he shifted his weight off his arms so he could reach out to touch her breasts. They were always
