Dear God, why am I saying all of these things to him out loud? And even as I think it, I can’t stop myself from saying the words that I never thought I would. “You don’t need to break me to make me love you, Nate, because I’m pretty sure I’d get there on my own.”
And fuck, it’s like I’ve ignited a fire inside of him as he pounds into me, my back hitting the tiles over and over, my fingers digging into his shoulders, his mouth on my nipple, his hands either side of my head as he ferociously takes me. And seconds later, we both find our release at the same time, together, in sync. I scream, he roars. I tremble, he holds me up. And when we’ve both come back to earth, he washes me whilst kissing me, he dries me before I crawl into his bed, and then he curls around me, pulling me to him, keeping me close.
He moves my hair to one side, placing light kisses on my shoulder and along to my neck before I turn my head and let him place his lips on mine. And this kiss is something more than all of the others. More intimate. More emotional.
We kiss slowly, our tongues stroking gently together, my body turning around so I’m facing him, my leg hooking over his hip because I still don’t feel close enough. His hand rests at the top of my thigh, his heat searing through me.
I never expected this. I never asked for this. But I absolutely fucking want it. Right now, I want nothing more.
He was right when he said I had nothing before, and the realisation pissed me off because it was painfully true, but now it seems I have something to fight for, and I don’t just mean my life.
Chapter Thirteen
Two Months Ago
Nate
“Come on, Nate, ease up, buddy,” my personal trainer says as I slam my fists into the punch bag. Hit, hit, hit, hit, over and over again until my knuckles crack and my hands ache from the sheer force of each blow.
I’m fucked off and trying to work out some of the goddamn frustration I feel for the woman living in my house, sauntering her fine ass around the place day in and day out, and me not getting to fucking hit it.
Honestly, she just waltzed right into the kitchen this morning, wearing nothing but one of my shirts. Yes, one of my shirts. She doesn’t even sleep in my bed, but she seems to think it’s okay to don one of my shirts around the place, and she’s honestly never looked sexier. So, here I am, hitting the bag with sweat dripping off of me to work out some of the tension in my body when I picture my lips on hers, my tongue tracing lines over her body and my cock inside of her pussy… Argh.
She shows no signs of letting up on her hatred of me, even though I can see that I intrigue her. She wants to know more but her stubborn ass stops herself from asking questions I would gladly give answers to.
Four months she’s been with me, and she’s fought me at every turn. It’s a good job I like a good challenge.
I stop hitting the bag, grabbing my water bottle and drinking it all in one.
“What has gotten into you, man?” Brody asks. “I’ve been your personal trainer for a long time now, and I’ve never seen you hit the bag that damn hard.”
“It’s nothing,” I say as I regulate my breathing and wipe the sweat off my brow.
“Oh right,” he says. “So, it’s got nothing to do with the woman who has been wandering around your house for the last few months?” I look at him to see that he is smirking. Fucker.
“I’m not paying you to be my agony aunt, Brody, so let’s just get back to fucking boxing, hmm?” I say as I turn back to the bag and throw my fists into it again.
* * *
Kat
Fucking man.
I’ve gone out of my way to try and piss him off as much as possible, and he’s not making a bloody peep about it. This morning, I walked into the kitchen in one of his shirts. I didn’t ask to wear it; I just took it from his room and put it on. To be fair, it was soft as hell and smelt of his alluring scent, so it was no hardship, but still, I wanted a reaction from him. Anything to show me that he has humanity, anything to show me there is some emotion there. I just need something.
I’m turning into a whiny twat and I don’t like it.
I’m still in his shirt, paired with some black leggings. I don’t know why I kept the damn thing on. I’m so mad at myself for playing these ridiculous games with him. I need to get a grip and find myself again because all I’m doing is losing who I am around him.
“Get changed, we’re going out,” he barks from behind me, making me jump. My eyes lock onto his bare back as he marches up the stairs and disappears from view.
“Going where?” I shout as I make my way up the stairs.
“Out,” he shouts back.
I roll my eyes at his vague answer and enter my bedroom. I don’t want to go anywhere, but then I guess it beats sitting around here for yet another day doing nothing. I quickly grab some skin-tight jeans and a cream V-neck top, pairing it with my killer boots. I leave my hair down, hanging in loose waves, and I do my make-up a little more dramatic than usual, making my eye-shadow darker and my lips a deep red.
I survey myself once in the full-length mirror, and even I can see that I look fucking hot. With a smile, I walk out of my bedroom and bump into Nate in the hallway. Literally, I walk smack bang into his chest.
