The thought makes me burn with jealousy. I hate that she's with me and even now, she's focused on that old man. That even if I pay Natalie to be with me-really be with me-her thoughts still aren't here. Even now, Chap Weston's pushin' in between us, like the destroyer that he is.
It sours my mood, too. I keep up the act for Fred and Irma, though. They don't need to know that I'm seething inside. Business talks wind up going nowhere, but that's okay. I know Fred'll work with me. Always knew that. Tonight was just to establish a bond between us and to show Natalie off a little. I'm proud of how sexy she is, even if I did have to buy her. That don't matter to me.
When we get out to the limo, I nod to the driver. I'm stayin' at a hotel in downtown San Antonio-one of the most expensive ones. Thought about bringing Nat back to my trailer, but that seemed wrong and insultin' somehow. So I rented the fanciest suite I could get at Ivy's suggestion. As we head to the hotel, though, she checks her phone again. And again.
And the sad, distant look on her face just keeps growin'. Any conversation I try to make with her falls limp, and by the time we get to the hotel, I ain't even tryin' anymore.
I'm burnin' up with bitter anger. Didn't I buy her? Didn't I pay for her to be my assistant for as long as I want her? But even now, she ain't with me. Maybe it ain't her dad . . . maybe it's someone else. A boyfriend I'm unaware of.
The thought fills me with rage. I didn't even ask. What if she does have a man?
My hands clench into fists at the thought, and for the first time in my life . . . I feel murderous. It's weird.
I hate bein' jealous. I'm not that guy. Least, I didn't think I was until I saw Nat again. Now I want to deck anyone that looks at her a little too hard. I feel possessive. She's mine. Mine alone.
I'm moody by the time we get to the hotel. Nat makes a little noise in her throat at the sight of the hotel itself, but she doesn't question it. Reckon she doesn't wanna go back to my trailer, either. Then again, she might not know that I don't have a real house. I ponder that. Maybe it's time to see about gettin' a real home now that I want to bring a lady back to my place. I'll talk to Ivy, I think.
Tomorrow. Tonight I don't wanna think about any girl but Natalie.
We head up in the elevator and I pull out my keycard. Natalie's still quiet, though she's starting to twitch at my side. I wonder if she's nervous or if she just can't wait to get away from me. The thought burns in my gut. Like I want her just rarin' to escape. I want her hungry for more kisses.
Maybe that's why I'm all surly when we pause in front of the suite. She eyes the double doors and gives me a curious, innocent look. "Is my room nearby?"
I push the keycard into the slot and then press my thumb to the reader to let it know that it's me. "Only one room," I tell her, and then hold the door open so she can enter.
She looks all surprised, her mouth open in a hint of shock, and I want to kiss it right off her face. What, did she not think I was going to just change my mind? Say, "You called my bluff. I don't want ya in my bed"?
Truth of the matter is, I want her now more than ever before. So I wait patiently, holding the door open for her. Waiting for her to hold up her end of the bargain.
Natalie swallows hard and then sweeps past me, her chin held high. She clutches her purse under her arm like a football, and her back is stiff. I can see color in her cheeks, and it's clear she's ruffled. That's all right. She'll get comfortable when I get my hand between her thighs.
I follow her inside and toss the keycard down, along with my wallet, on the nearest table. "Make yourself at home."
She looks around the room-a pretty fancy place, if I do admit-and then sits elegantly on a chair near a small round table. She puts her purse down.
I immediately go to pick it up.
"What are you doing?" she asks, reaching for it.
"I want your attention on me, not on your phone," I tell her brusquely.
"Oh." She relaxes and sits back in the chair, biting her lip. "I'm sorry about that in the limo. I was lost in thought, and distracted by the nurses attending my father."
Least she admits it. I feel a little more relaxed at that. "You want a drink from the minibar?"
Her smile is faint. "No, thank you."
I noticed she wasn't drinking anything but tea at dinner. I had a beer, but just one. "So you don't wanna be drunk for this?" I tease.
She glances down at her hands in her lap. "I'd rather not, I think."
"I'd rather you were sober, too. I'd feel kinda shitty if you were drunk."
"So it's not okay for me to be drunk, but it's okay for you to force me into this by paying me?" She looks up at me, her eyes narrowed with curiosity.
Got me there. I scratch at my head, feelin' a little foolish. "Kinda? In my head it makes sense, at least."
"None of this makes sense to me," she admits. "I'm not sure why you want me, of all people. And why now."
I could explain myself. But I'm not sure I feel like it. She just needs to know that I want her and that I'll take care of her needs to ensure that she takes care of mine. "It ain't important," I say, and then sit down on the edge of the bed and pat the seat next to me.
Her eyes go wide and she gives me a nervous look. Kinda makes me smile to myself. She's actin' like a shocked virgin despite the fact that she's twenty-five. I don't expect she waited on me, so the ploy ain't necessary. "You on birth control?"
"Of course not," Nat tells me, frowning. "There's never been a need."
I go still. "This . . . ain't your first time, is it?"
Her back goes stiff as she sits next to me, all prim and proper. "How many times do you think I should have done this, then?" She looks mighty uncomfortable.
I snort, because I mostly want her to get that pinched, worried look off her face. "More'n me."
Natalie's brows go down and she gives me a curious look. "How many times have you done it?"
Done it. Heh. Like we're still two teenagers discussin' the forbidden. "Haven't," I admit. "Waited for you." I gaze at her pretty face, so lovely she makes my heart ache. "Then I waited to get over you."
Her full lips part and her eyes grow shiny. "Oh, Clay," she sighs. "Sometimes you say the sweetest things . . . and then sometimes I want to punch you right in the face."
That just makes me grin. It sparks a memory of long ago, when I frustrated her back on a date and she threatened something very similar. "You still didn't answer my question," I point out. "You a virgin?"
Her cheeks are red but she nods, slowly.
Fierce pleasure ricochets through me. Holy fuck. She waited for me? Or . . . she waited because of something. Don't care. All I know is that I'm going to be Natalie's first anyhow. Doesn't matter that it took us seven years to get here.
She's mine. All mine.
With a fierce growl, I pull her against me and capture her mouth. I feel her stiffen in surprise, but then she melts against me, her hands going to my waist and resting there as I kiss her. She's mine, and she's gonna stay mine, I decide. I love the taste of her, and the way she feels against me.
Even so, I can tell she's holding back-it's not like the kiss we had in the car. She's hesitant, and when her tongue flicks against mine, I can almost taste the worry rushing through her. I press a gentle kiss on her parted lips and then nip at her mouth. "You okay?"
Her nose brushes against mine as she ducks her head. "I'm nervous."
I feel a ridiculously stupid surge of pride at that. She's nervous 'cause it's her first time. I'm going to get her first time. "Would it make you feel better if I said I was nervous, too?" I ain't, but I'll say whatever to make her feel better.
She chuckles and her hand smacks lightly against my side. "I'd rather you be confident so we do things well."
"Oh, I'm confident," I tell her in a husky voice. I let my thumb graze over her full lower lip, still wet from my kiss. "I'm confident that I'm gonna kiss the hell out of you, and then I'm going to strip this sexy dress off your even-more-sexy body. I'm gonna dip my fingers between your thighs and play with your pussy, and then-"
Her fingers push against my lips. "Clay," she says softly, embarrassed. "You're trying to make me blush, aren't you?"
Actually, I'm tryin' to turn her on. It's clear that when she's nervous, though, she can't think beyond that nervousness. I remember that back when we were younger, too. Natalie took some coaxin' to relax. When she got wound up, she was wound up tighter'n anyone I'd ever met before. Her family was always stressin' her out when she was a teenager. Her dad had unreasonable expectations and her stepmom was a beast. I thought it might have gotten better since she'd moved back in with her daddy and her stepmom was gone, but some things don't change, I guess.