They came into the kitchen holding hands, asking if they could turn on a movie in the living room. It seemed like Nate was in pain as he hunched over the kitchen island, his voice sounding unfamiliar as he replied to the girls. Thankfully, they already figured out how to work the remote and streaming service.
When I heard the opening sequence to a movie, I walked over to Nate and gently placed my hand on his back. I didn’t need to ask if he was all right. With the way his body angled over the island, he seemed to be in excruciating discomfort.
“Can I do something for you?”
Wordlessly, his arm jutted out and grasped my wrist, directing my hand over the tent in his shorts. It was harder than I’ve ever felt an erection be before. His entire body jerked at the contact.
“Oh, Nate,” I cooed.
“I… need to go take care of this,” he croaked as he stood to his full height.
“I understand. I’m so sorry.”
“Definitely not your fault.” Brushing past me, he pressed a kiss to the top of my head before hobbling toward the stairs.
Needing something to do to keep my mind off the man upstairs stroking his cock, something I wanted to watch terribly, I joined the girls in the living room.
But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the queen shooting ice from her hands, my thoughts kept returning to the kitchen and how desperate I was to have Nate. Thoughts about protection and consequences had flown out the window the second his lips touched mine. His cock had been so close to my center. Close enough I could feel the heat from the tip. I wanted it more than anything in the world.
It was probably good that the girls interrupted us before we made a drastic decision. Neither of us was ready to face those implications.
Too bad my pussy didn’t get the memo, as she continued to throb in need.
When Nate made his way back down a while later, I swapped spots with him. If I was going to make it through dinner, I absolutely needed to pay myself some attention.
I didn’t even need to use my vibrator. Just a few strokes of my own fingers did the job.
Now that we were both sated, there was a chance for us to make it through dinner without any complications.
I rejoined the group, and Nate rested his arm on the back of the couch, running small circles on the back of my neck with his fingers. I didn’t know that spot would be a mainline of pleasure to my vag.
With every minute, the chance of making it through dinner grew smaller and smaller.
Thank goodness I wasn’t a betting woman.
Chapter Sixteen – Nate
During the ride to Sunny Brook Farms, Alex continued to worry over someone figuring out we were hooking up. It was all a moot concern.
When we arrived, Alex was ushered into the kitchen with her mother, while Nash pulled me aside to go over some paperwork for the sale of the land as well as the leasing agreements. The latter I would need to forward to my legal department, but Nash already agreed I could begin testing onsite as soon as I wanted. The land was in its dormant period.
By the time Andrew arrived, the meal was ready, and chatter around the table filled the room. This time, the twins sat on either side of Marisol, which left Alex next to me. There was an instance where I intentionally dropped my napkin, a ruse to stroke my hand up her bare leg.
I thought it had gone unnoticed, but when I settled back in my chair, Rory smirked in the seat across from me. We were going to have to keep an eye on that one.
Alex was quiet during most of the meal. With how enthusiastic she was earlier regarding the cake shop prospect, it surprised me she wasn’t jumping in to share the potential news.
I tried to catch her eye a few times, but she spent most of dinner pushing around the peas on her plate with her fork. No one was paying her any mind though, because to anyone who knew her, she wasn’t herself, and they would’ve said something.
Not so quietly, I dropped my fork on my plate. The resulting clang halted all conversation. “Hey, so I think Alex has some news she wants to share.”
Andrew’s grip on his fork tightened. “You’re not knocked up, are you?”
“Andrew!” their mother shouted. I was positive if Molly hadn’t been sitting between Marisol and Andrew, she would have smacked him on the back of the head.
“Sorry,” he grunted.
“No, Andrew. I’m not. Thanks for thinking so highly of me.”
