Chapter Twenty-Eight
Oh, It’s Definitely Real
Rowan
Nash was killing me. At first it was a slow burn. I saw the way he looked at my body. I might have been physically damaged, but my eyesight was just fine. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy watching his body’s reaction as he washed my hair, or that I didn’t inwardly giggle when he ran off to take care of himself afterwards. I might have even given him an extra moan or two for the road. Nash saw me. He saw past what Conor had done to me. Not only did this empower me, but it helped me to heal both physically and emotionally. It also helped me to push past my insecurities. The day we argued about those papers, and I told him that I didn’t want to be his roommate, was huge for me. All I’d ever wanted was a place to call my own. Suddenly it was there, dangling in front of my face. All I had to do was sign on the dotted line, and for better or worse, Nash would be stuck with me. But that was just it. I didn’t want him to feel stuck. I wanted something more. I wanted him, and I wasn’t just talking about as roommates. I wanted all of him. Yesterday, I’d planned this big speech. I wanted Nash to know that I wasn’t going to break and that he could stop treating me like a delicate flower. Then I had the nightmare. When I woke this morning and saw his half-naked, very aroused body, my good intentions flew right out the window, and I reacted.
While Nash was in the bathroom cleaning up, I was lying here kicking myself. Good move, Rowan. Nothing says I love you more than grabbing a guy’s package while he’s sleeping.
Nash walked back into the room with a sexy glint in his eyes and his pajama pants back in place. He looked ruffled, but satisfied. I, however, was a mess. The moment he rounded the bed, I made a mad dash for the bathroom where I stared in disgust at my reflection in the mirror. In an attempt to clear my head, I turned on the tap and doused my face with ice cold water. As I was drying off, I let out a frustrated scream into the towel. Lowering the towel to the vanity, I opened my eyes and gasped when I discovered Nash standing directly behind me, Nash…with his golden hair, piercing blue eyes, and a less than thrilled expression on his face. His hands suddenly appeared on the vanity, on either side of my body, and I found myself trapped between his body and the sink. My pulse fluttered with both trepidation and excitement. Nash was tall, but I wasn’t exactly short. My black hair was a stark contrast to his blond, and I wondered what he would think if he knew I was really a redhead. He pressed his front to my back and I felt it – hard, long, tempting – sandwiched between us. The same erection that had me tossing caution to the wind not even a half hour ago. Nash’s eyes sparked with emotion as he stared back at me in the mirror. He slowly lowered his head, and I sucked in a chest full of air when I felt his face nuzzle the side of my neck.
“Why did you leave, Rowan?” His quiet tone didn’t fool me. He was mad.
“I should have talked to you this morning. Instead, I – ahhhhh.” His lips on my neck felt so good.
“I liked what you did this morning. In fact, I’d really like to return the favor,” he murmured against my skin.
I breathily repeated his words from earlier. “Not if it’s not real.”
His head shot up and his eyes burned through me. “Oh, it’s definitely real.” I let out a startled gasp when I felt his hands circle my hips.
“Nash,” I protested.
“Watch,” he said, as if I had any other choice. I stared at his reflection in the mirror, but I felt his touch as it scorched a fiery path across my body. My pajama bottoms dropped to the floor with a whoosh of air, and I slowly stepped out of them. I wasn’t wearing any panties, which embarrassed me, but seemed to thrill Nash to no end. “I’ve dreamt about this,” he whispered as he ran his fingers covetously over my ass. “Can you lift your arms?” My ribs were still tender, but nothing like they were right after I was first released from the hospital. With a nod of my head, I gingerly lifted my arms up far enough for him to be able to carefully pull my shirt over my head. His hiss of pleasure when he saw my breasts made my nipples ache. Once again, he ran his hands across my ass, only this time he continued around to my front, where he proceeded to dip his fingers between my legs. “God, you are so fucking beautiful,” he whispered against my ear. Pools of warmth gathered at my core as he massaged my clit. When his other hand grasped my breast, electric pulses shot through my extremities. Slowly my orgasm began to build. When he suddenly pulled back, I twisted my head around to see why he’d stopped, and was nearly bowled over by the white-hot lust in his eyes. “Do you know how much I want you right now? I just came less than thirty minutes ago, and look.” He pulled his hard-as-hell-cock from his pajama pants, and all I could do was stare. I wanted it, him, now. His naughty words were a massive turn on, his hands touching himself an aphrodisiac. I wanted him in my mouth, inside my body, down to my soul. Always and forever, Nash Bostwick was it for me. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but for some reason I couldn’t make them come out. “Now, if you’d stayed in bed instead of running away, I’d be deep inside you right now. I want to bend you over this sink and pound you to oblivion, but I know you’re still feeling pain. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, so we’re going to have to get creative until you heal. Trust me when I say I’m going to take you like this, Ro, but not today.” His tone of warning made me want to beg him to do it, but he was right. I was still too sore for a bathroom sink pounding. He held out his hand, and with a pang of regret, I allowed him to lead me back into the bedroom.
Once we reached the foot of the bed, he dropped my hand and slid off his pajama pants. My eyes immediately dropped to his erection, and I licked my lips with anticipation.
He laughed. “You’ve had your turn, sweetheart. Now it’s mine.” He helped me settle onto the bed, before he lowered his head and devoured me with his naughty talking mouth. I came with a scream. Two things I made note of. One, facial scruff felt like heaven down there and two, he was really, really good with his tongue. My second orgasm hit fast, but not quite as hard as the first. After making sure my ribs were protected, I watched him slide on a condom. Before he entered my body, he ran his fingers over my necklace, and whispered, “Forever.” My breath hitched with love as he slid inside. We’d both been through so much, together and apart. One thing I’d learned was that Nash centered me. More than anything in this world I wanted to be his forever, and for him to be mine. Like a gentle wave he crashed into me, and I was swept away by the power of my feelings, the way he felt inside me, the rightness of the moment. Don’t get me wrong, I was tempted by his naughty talk, but this…this was perfection. As his blue eyes stared into mine, I knew he felt it too. This was it. I came with a gasp of pleasure, and he followed with a loud groan. Afterwards, we lay there basking in the silence. “Be right back,” he said, and I watched him dash for the bathroom. Right as he reached it, he turned back and said, “Don’t fucking leave.”
When he was back in bed and I was nestled in the crook of his arm, I turned to him and said, “I don’t want to be your roommate, Nash, because roommates don’t do this. Roommates don’t feel what I feel for you.”
“And what is that?” he huskily asked.
“Love.”
Closing his eyes, he dropped his forehead to mine, and whispered, “God, I fucking love you.” After a long pause, he pulled back and asked if I wanted pizza, and we both burst into laughter.
Over pizza in bed we talked about everything that had been happening in our lives since we’d returned. It was as if admitting our feelings had opened up something inside both of us. We were no longer anxious, walking on eggshells, or angry. I spoke more about Conor and Nash talked about Maeve. When I asked if he’d like to tackle her room, he hesitantly agreed, but only if we agreed to take it slowly. We talked about the band’s decision to fire Blane, Chaz’s strange relationship with Paula, and Evan’s pending separation. That morphed into Nash telling me about what happened in his hotel room with the woman he referred to as “intern Maggie,” the morning I called him from Conor’s apartment.
I bit into a piece of pizza, and asked, “What is it with you and crazy women?”
“Pot. Kettle. Black.” he laughed. “My crazies don’t hold a candle to yours.”
“Touché,” I replied through my laughter. “Oh, speaking of crazies, I forgot to ask about Nadine. In the hospital Garrett mentioned they’d found her, but I never got the full story.”
After Nash explained about LASH finding Nadine, in Wyoming, of all places, we made our way downstairs, where we cuddled on the sofa to watch movies. Halfway through the second movie it hit me what was different about the room.
“The chair’s gone!” I whipped around too quickly, and gasped as a jolt of pain shot through my ribs. Nash pulled me back into his arms and made sure I was okay, before he explained how my nightmare last night bothered him, so he decided to do something about it. “But it was your mom’s favorite chair,” I whined.
“Hell, all I did was haul it outside to the curb. If Mom were alive, she would have squirted kerosene on it, lit it on fire, and cackled maniacally as it burned to ashes.” In the end, I decided to let it go.
That night I made Nash dinner for the first time since we’d been home. He was worried about me spending too much time on my feet, but I assured him I was okay. I could tell that being downstairs in Maeve’s space was difficult for him. His refusal to deal with her death was weighing on his conscience, and I wanted to help him, but I wasn’t exactly sure how. The fact that he’d agreed to deal with Maeve’s room was a huge step in the right direction, but I was still worried.
Over dinner I asked him about the song he’d sung for me in the hospital. He explained how he’d been working on it for months, and how he’d been completely blocked until Maeve died and I was taken. How the words he’d been searching for so long were suddenly there.
Like a lovesick fool, I sighed. “I love it when you sing for me.”
His mouth tilted up into a sexy smile. “Oh yeah?” He stood up and pushed his chair back. Then he held out his hand, and said, “Come.”
“The dishes,” I protested.
“Can wait until later,” he finished, and wiggled his fingers at me. “Come on.” I placed my hand in his and he led me into his music room. “Sit.” He pointed me to the sofa, while he grabbed his acoustic guitar from the other side of the room. He turned and smiled at me, and a wave of lust whipped through me. “I don’t believe we’ve ever talked music before, have we?” he asked as he lowered himself onto the coffee table. I was afraid if I opened my mouth drool would fall out, so I just shook my head, no. “Hmmm, what kind of music do you like? Wait, I vaguely remember passing by your room one day. I’m pretty sure I heard you singing this.” He began playing one of my favorite Melissa Etheridge songs, and I sat there completely stunned by how amazing it sounded coming from his lips. I clapped when he finished, and he smiled. “Another day, I think I might have heard this.” He launched into Thomas Rhett’s song, Die A Happy Man, and I slapped my hands over my mouth. Memories of the day he busted me dancing around my room singing this song made me laugh. God, I was so embarrassed.
“I don’t know whether to be mortified or impressed,” I claimed, once he’d finished singing the song.
“Now this…this might be my favorite.” He started picking the chords to Blind Faith’s Can’t Find My Way Home. This was one of mine and Gavin’s favorite songs, and hearing Nash sing it completely gutted me. He stopped halfway through the song, but I tearfully motioned for him to continue. He finished playing and made a move to put his guitar away.
“One more,” I called out.
He lifted his eyebrow in question. “You sure?” This was a side of Nash I’d never seen before, and I wanted more.
“Please?”
“How about I do a song that reminds me of you,” he suggested, and laughed when I vigorously nodded my head. “Too easy,” he joked, and ducked when I tossed a coaster at him. He lifted his guitar, and the hairs literally stood up all over my body as he began to play Iris. As his voice filled the room I had to bite my lip to keep from crying. The Goo Goo Dolls were good, but Nash… there were no words for what I was hearing. His voice was gripping and his talent spellbinding. I was captivated beyond all reason. He finished the song and had just enough time to set the guitar down before I all but tackled him.
“That was amazing,” I whispered as I straddled his lap.
He pulled me in tight. “Yeah? How amazing?” His sly, sexy tone added fuel to my already burning-hot fire. I pushed against his chest. After a moment, he relented and released his hold. Slowly, I extracted myself from his lap. He tried to pull me back, but I slapped his hands away. When I unbuttoned his pants and began tugging at the waist, he got the message. Once he had them off and kicked to the side, I spread open his legs and carefully dropped to my knees. “Fuuuuuuuuck,” he drawled, when I took him in hand and lowered my mouth to his very eager cock. His fingers found purchase in my hair as I slowly sucked him between my lips and deep into my mouth. I could tell by his jerky movements that he wanted to thrust, but was holding back. I wanted all of him. Every. Last. Drop. “Ro” he groaned as I plunged my mouth up and down his shaft. I could tell he was close by the continual hitch in his breathing. I sped up the pace, but right as he was about to explode, he grabbed my hair, and said, “Stop.”
“No,” I hissed as I jerked my head back and glared up at him. Pushing his chair back, he stood from the table. “What are you doing?” I gasped.
“Stand up,” he commanded.
“What? No! I wasn’t finished.”
“Stand,” he repeated.
“So bossy,” I complained as I gingerly pulled myself up from the floor. My question from before was answered when Nash began jerking my leggings down my body. With a half-hearted huff, I stripped them the rest of the way off. While doing this, he slid on a condom. Once the condom was secured, he pulled his shirt over his head and demanded that I take mine off as well. Then he turned us both around, sat with his back against the spine of the sofa, and said, “Ride me.” I thought about arguing, but then took one look at his clenched jaw and rock hard cock and changed my mind. His breath hitched as I straddled his lap. I could tell that he was barely hanging on by a thread, and loved the fact that I could make him feel this way. Right before I lowered myself onto him, he whispered, “I love you, beautiful girl.” God, I was so crazy gone for this man, it wasn’t even funny.
We both groaned as I took him inside me. “I love you,” I whispered back to him, before slowly beginning to move up and down his rigidly hard cock. Nash’s hands were on my hips, his mouth on my breasts. “I love you,” I said more harshly as I picked up the pace. My ribs were taking a beating, but I didn’t care. I was past the point of giving a shit. I was in ecstasy and heading straight for euphoria. “I love you!” I shouted as my orgasm barreled toward release.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” Nash growled as his orgasm hit. Like a freight train, mine followed directly after.
“I think maybe you love me,” he rasped, and we both laughed.