Before Jamaica Lane (On Dublin Street #3)(55)

The joy I should have felt after our first lesson, the relief of realizing that I'd feared sex only to discover how easy and natural it felt, was overwhelmed by the regret that waited in the wings just ready to be prompted to center stage by Nate's prolonged absence.

I ignored a text from Ellie and didn't answer a call from Jo as I picked at dinner, changed into an overlarge T-shirt that I wore to bed when the weather got a little warmer, and sat down in front of the television to not take in a word of the movie that was playing.

It was a total surprise then when a key turned in my lock and the door opened to reveal Nate carrying a DVD, notebook, and pen.

I didn't know what to make of it.

He smiled at me, a real smile this time, as if nothing had happened last night, and he strode forward, dumping his stuff on the coffee table.

I had my feet on the couch, my arms clasped around my bent knees. 

Nate's gaze flickered over my bare legs as he took off his jacket. Our eyes met. And held.

He cleared his throat. 'Lesson first and then I have a movie to review.'

Part of me really wanted to question him and his weird, erratic behavior. But a bigger part of me was afraid of the answers. Or the consequences. 'Tonight's lesson?'

He kicked off his shoes. 'Tonight's about confidence. Taking control.'

And just like that I realized I was mad at him for the way he'd walked out last night. Really effing mad.

It took over me, turning me into someone else.

Dropping my feet to the floor, I reached out and grabbed his belt, hauling him closer to me. 'Sit down,' I demanded, my voice cold even to my ears.

A spark of uncertainty appeared in his eyes at my tone. But he complied, lowering himself onto the couch beside me.

I lost no time in making my move.

Straddling him, I gripped his hair in my hands and kissed him hard. His arms banded around me and just as easy as that, Nate took back control of the kiss.

Fine, no kissing.

Pulling away, I gently pressed him back with a hand to his chest.

'Well?' he asked, his voice low, eyes questioning. 'What now?'

In answer I began unbuckling his belt, quickly unbuttoning his jeans so I could slip my hand inside. Nate hissed as I fisted him.

'Feel good?' I purred across his mouth, a part of me floating on the outside of this little scene and wondering who the hell I thought I was.

'What do you think?' Nate narrowed his eyes, stroking his hands up my thighs and taking the hem of my nightshirt with them.

I released him so I could remove his hands from me. Shaking my head, I tutted at him. 'No touching.'

Displeasure darkened his eyes. He didn't like that.

Good.

I tugged at his jeans and he lifted his hips, helping me free his erection. I didn't bother pulling them all the way down. Instead I pushed down my panties, moving off him so I could kick them off before straddling him again.

'Take off the nightdress,' Nate insisted. When I didn't move, he rubbed a hand over my thigh, his expression gentling. 'Liv, I want to see you.'

I stilled, tilting my head to the side as I studied him carefully. 'You do?'

There was so much more in my question than I wished there was.

And just like that Nate understood completely. 'I want you. I want you to ride my cock and I want you to ride it hard. And then afterwards I want to sit with my friend, eat some food, and watch a movie with her. I'm not going anywhere.' His grip tightened. 'Now take off your nightdress.'

His assurance made the anger slowly ebb away and as it did I returned to my senses. I flushed at my actions, at my demands, at my cold confidence. Nate relaxed too, with a smug aspect in his eyes when he caught sight of my blush.

In an ironic effort to hide my renewed self-consciousness I lifted the nightdress up over my head and threw it behind me. I didn't even get a chance to say or do anything before I felt Nate's hand on my upper back between my shoulder blades along with the power in his body as he held me to him, his lips sucking on my nipple.

I arched into him, sighing as pleasure instantly coursed through me.

He played me for a while, thinking to make me pliant, but I still had his lessons in mind. He wanted me to learn sexual confidence, and although I had no intention of letting my anger fuel it again, I had every intention of retesting its waters.

As Nate had already pointed out, I was an overachiever.

I moved over him, pressing him back into the couch. 'Put it inside me.'

His lips curled at the corners. 'You put me inside you.'



       
         
       
        

So I did.

I whimpered against his mouth as he sucked in a deep breath.

And then I moved.

I tried to go slow, to take it easy, to build it, but I was too impatient, too desperate for it.

Too greedy.