Before Jamaica Lane (On Dublin Street #3)(54)

I relaxed, my eyes locked with his. And then he was pushing inside of me, hands on the mattress at the side of my head to hold himself up. His eyes darkened as he pressed through the tight resistance of my body, my muscles squeezing around him. I stifled a whimper. It was uncomfortable. Not painful like last time, but I wasn't sure if it was pleasant either.

Nate shut his eyes for a second, panting. His arms shook a little.

'Nate?' I rested my hands on his waist.

'I just  … ' His lids fluttered open and my inner muscles squeezed him again in response to the sexual heat I saw in his eyes. 'You feel  …  amazing,' he breathed, eyes gleaming. 'So tight. I'm trying to go gentle, but you feel fucking amazing.'

Pleased, I caressed his back soothingly and realized that the discomfort was beginning to dissipate. I was suddenly eager to learn more. My hips automatically lifted, seeking movement, and Nate growled, pulling back out of me. Instead of pulling all the way out like I thought he was going to, he thrust back in. I cried out as I felt the stirring of a beautiful tension.

My eyes were locked on his face, mesmerized by his expression, by the mixture of lust and gentleness in his eyes, by the tautness of his jaw that told me he was clinging to his control.

And he did that for me.

He was slow and tender, his hands gripping my thighs lightly as he slid in and out of me, every stroke a gradual climb toward climax.

His eyes drank me in, watching me pant beneath him, watching my breasts quiver gently against his thrusts, and suddenly he was pushing that little bit harder, moving that little bit faster. 'Liv, come for me, babe,' he commanded, his voice guttural. 'You've got to come for me.'

'I am,' I promised, lifting my hips against the pumping of his, the coil tightening, tightening, tightening  –

Nate's thumb pressed down on my clit.

I shattered. Loudly. My eyes fluttered behind their lids as my lower body shuddered uncontrollably, jerking hard against Nate as he gripped my hips tightly to his and followed me into climax.

When I finally stopped coming, my muscles relaxed to jelly. I think I melted into my mattress, just barely able to lift my arm and curl a hand around Nate's nape as he collapsed over me, his head buried in the crook of my neck.

I delighted in the feel of his chest rising and falling quickly against mine, of his warm breath puffing against my skin. We were both slick with sweat and I didn't care. It felt wonderful.

'So that's what real sex is like,' I breathed, in awe of it and in awe of the pleasure he'd elicited from my barely tried body.

Nate's lips pressed against my damp neck before he raised his head and pushed himself up. Our eyes met and I stilled. There was something stirring to life in his gaze, something important, possibly profound. Other than when he spoke of Alana, I'd never seen him look so serious. So grave. He stared at me a long moment until  …  his head jerked back as if I'd said something.



       
         
       
        

'Nate?'

His Adam's apple moved with a hard swallow before he kissed me quickly and rolled off of me.

I couldn't say anything. I didn't know what to say.

Instead I lay there as he walked out of the room. I listened as I heard the water running in the bathroom and then the toilet flushing. There was rustling in the living room and I heard a thump, like a boot against my wooden floor.

That got me up.

I tugged on my sheet, hauled it off the bed and wrapped it around me.

Wandering out of the bedroom, I found him shrugging his jacket on.

'Nate?'

He smiled at me, but there was something false in it and my heart immediately began beating faster.

'Nate?'

'I'll, eh  …  have to text you when I'm free again.'

Something strange, solid and cold, settled in my stomach, but I attempted not to let it show as I shuffled in my sheet over to the glass bowl I kept my keys in. I lifted my spare and held it out to him. 'To make things easier. For our lessons,' I emphasized.

He gazed at it a moment and then eventually, just as my hand was beginning to tremble, he strode over to take it. He kissed me quickly on the cheek as though he might get burned if he lingered.

' 'Night, babe.'

Watching him hurry out of my apartment, I couldn't force a reply past the lump of apprehension in my throat.

I'd been worried all day. Worried something had happened in my room last night that had made Nate rethink this whole lesson thing. Or worse, our whole friendship thing. When he didn't text in the morning, I gnawed my lip. When he didn't text in the afternoon, I snapped at a boorish student who somehow blamed me for his fifty-pound fine, and when Nate didn't text as I was walking home from work I began to despair that I'd seriously effed up our friendship.