Chapter 12
Morgan
Nate unfolds the couch and grabs two pillows and a blanket from a trunk in the corner. He pulls back the covers and tells me, “Hop in.”
I hesitate because I’m sitting here, naked as the day I was born. I get up, mindful that he’s watching me. Knowing better than to attempt a seductive walk, I concentrate on not stubbing a toe.
Once I slide under the sheets, Nate releases the blanket. He gets the remote and tosses it on the bed. Then he slips off his shoes and gives me the best present I’ve ever had. He takes off his shirt in front of me.
I stare, unabashedly admiring his body. Nate undoes the button and zipper at the top of his pants and I lick my bottom lip, wondering if he’s going to lose the underwear along with his shorts. He doesn’t.
I watch as he pulls them off and lays them on the chair. He’s wearing solid black fitted boxer briefs. They hide nothing, including the large heat-seeking missile in front. Although, right now, it seems to have deflated after Maya’s little visit.
Nate turns on the television, which is already muted. Then he flicks the light switch and climbs in beside me. I don’t have to wonder for long if he intends to continue our earlier escapades. His hands are on me the second he’s under the covers.
He pulls me close so our fronts are touching. One hand runs up and down my side, from waist to thigh and back. I put my hand on his hip. Neither of us goes any further.
Is he waiting for a signal? I kind of think that allowing him to put his mouth on my fortune cookie was a pretty clear signal.
I’m more than willing to return the favor. I squeeze his hip and then scrape my fingers lightly across his abdomen.
“What are you doing?” he asks, rubbing his nose along my jawline.
“What do you want me to be doing?”
“I don’t think you’re prepared for that answer.”
“Then maybe you should just be quiet.”
Nate smirks as he brings his mouth to mine. His tongue teases my lips and I open for him, welcoming the sensations I feel at the invasion. He’s a phenomenal kisser, to which my earlier orgasm can attest.
Nate grabs my ass and holds me tightly against him. His meatcicle is no longer deflated. In fact, the top of it is trying to get out of his boxers and say hello.
I bravely stick my hand inside his underwear and encircle it. Or, I try to. My fingers don’t touch when I grab it and a little thrill shoots up my spine at the thought of him trying to work it inside me.
I quickly nix that idea. I cannot have sex with Nate tonight. It’s bad enough I’ve gotten naked in his room and let him touch my muff. Now I’ve got my hand in his underwear and I’m seconds away from going to town on his tripod with my mouth.
Nate is officially single. I’m not. And that makes me a horrible fucking person. But sex is a line I just can’t cross right now.
I try my best to push his boxers down with one hand, but it’s an odd angle and I can only get them so far.
“Want some help with that?” Nate asks.
“I need to return the favor tonight, so you might want to help.”
Nate puts his hand on mine and stops me. “Don’t. Don’t do this because you think it has to be even. It doesn’t. I’d never ask you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”
I melt. I can’t believe he’s real. “That’s so sweet.”
“No. It’s not. I think a hundred steps ahead of every decision I make. I calculated this risk a dozen times. I won’t risk our friendship. And I won’t risk you twisting it in your pretty little head that you’ve done something wrong.”
“Don’t you think we already crossed that line, Nate?”
“Probably. I honestly hadn’t intended to get you naked tonight.” He kisses the corner of my mouth, slowly. “But you’re too fucking irresistible.”
I blush at his comment.
“I broke up with Taylor the morning after you came over the first time. I should have done it before I came back to school. I’m not exactly sure why I didn’t other than I’ve grown used to having her. Which isn’t firm ground upon which one builds a relationship. But the second I saw you, I knew I could no longer be with her.”
Nate cups the side of my face. “Can you say the same?”
My heart is racing and my mouth has gone dry. Nate broke up with Taylor because he wants me. Instead of being a cheating douche, he picked up the phone and told her it was over.
Does that mean I’m a cheating douche? Shit. I am. I’m a female douche bag. A fe-douche. A douchette. A sorry excuse for a decent human being. But I want him all the same.
I nod. “Yes. I don’t want to be with Alex. I should have ended things a long time ago.”
Nate exhales, seemingly relieved. Was he holding his breath? This is intense, how I feel right now. I want him so much. But I’ll do the right thing so my conscious is clear. Well, clearer than it would be if we had sex right now.
“I’ll call Alex tomorrow.”
Nate smiles and kisses me again. “Good.”
He reaches down and pulls his boxers back in place.
“You don’t want …?”
Nate snorts. “Oh, I want. But I think maybe you’ll feel better if you talk to Alex first.”
“Oh. Okay.” His hands are still on me and I’m not sure if I should get dressed or what.
“Should I still stay?”
Nate slaps my ass. “Yes.”
“Should I get dressed?”
Slap. “No.”
“Should you maybe stop spanking me?”
Slap. “Definitely not.”
I grin. He’s good boyfriend material, for sure. Not that we’re there, yet. But Nate’s a pretty serious guy, so I assume he wants more than just sexy times with me. Although, if that was all he wanted, I’m probably still jumping on board the Nate-train.
***
The next morning, despite Nate’s protests, I put my clothing back on. He left before I awoke and got us breakfast. I’m surprised I didn’t wake when he rolled out of bed. I’m usually a light sleeper, but I was really quite happy with the sleeping arrangements, so maybe my brain relaxed for once.
He did nothing to help me find my clothing. I had to demand he give me back my underwear. You’d think I’d hurt his feelings by the way he pouted when he handed them to me.
Currently, he’s sitting on the couch with his laptop, reading through my paper. He has coffee in one hand and a breakfast sandwich in the other. I’m in the chair, observing.
“Are you going to stare at me the whole time?” he asks, not taking his eyes off the screen.
“Probably. I’m trying to gauge your reaction.” I want some visual clue that it’s good. Or terrible.
“I’m almost finished.”
I bite my nail as I watch. He’s my favorite thing to look at these days, despite the nervous feeling I have over this paper.
A couple of minutes go by and he finally looks up, pops what’s left of his sandwich in his mouth and takes a swig of coffee. Nate sets the coffee on the side table and glances at me, then back at the screen.
Instead of talking, he puts his hands on the keyboard and types. He moves the mouse around, types some more.
He’d better not be changing my paper. I want proofreading and feedback, not Nate-saves-the-day and writes it for me.
“It’s good,” he finally says.
“Really?”
“Really. Don’t act so surprised.”
“What were you typing?” I come around to sit next to him.
“Just some notes in the comment function. You can delete them after you read them. They’re just a few suggestions on edits. You didn’t really need me for this, did you?” He’s smirking at me.
“Oh, yes, I did. You put me on the right path. Now I’m golden.”
“Just remember that I’m usually right.”
I smack his leg and he raises an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” I giggle.
“No, you’re not.”
“You’re right. I’m not.”
Nate grabs my hand. “I really like you, Morgan.”
Puddle. Of. Goo. I grin. “I really like you, too.”
“So, you’re going to call Alex when you get back to your room?”
“Nice segue way, Stevenson,” I say as I roll my eyes.
Nate doesn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he puts the laptop on the coffee table and then pulls me into his lap. I’m getting the feeling he likes it when I’m sitting on him. Ooh, kinky.
“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page, Morgan. I’m not trying to force you into breaking up with your boyfriend. I’m telling you that I want you. If you want me, you need to be free to choose me.”
I put my forehead to his and take a deep breath. God, he smells so good. Even un-showered after a night of dancing.
I’m scared for him to get too close to my pits. I’d hate for him to pass out. Rebecca was right, I do smell bad when I sweat.
“I get it, Nate. I promise. Try to understand that it’s not something that’s easy for me to do over the phone. It makes me feel like a terrible person, but not because I’m still interested in Alex. Let me be clear that I’m not. It just seems so discourteous. I’ve been with him for five years. He’s the only guy I’ve ever …”
“Ever what?”
“Had sex with. Thought I was in love with. He was my first everything and he’s in a really bad state at the moment, so I thought it would be kinder to talk face-to-face. But I don’t know when I’ll get home next, so I’m going to call him. I just ask that you not be pushy about it. This is difficult for me.”
“You’ve only ever been with one person?”
I nod. I’m tempted to ask him his number of conquests, but I’m also afraid. I mean, he’s Thor. I’m sure he’s been with a hundred different girls.
“I can see how this is different than what I went through with Taylor. I was never in love with her, we weren’t high school sweethearts. I get that. But, Morgan, it’s not the first person you have sex with that has the biggest impact on your life. It’s the last.”
What is he saying? I suspect he’s trying to be philosophical and enlightening. And he has a good point. Alex won’t be the last boy I’m ever with, not if I don’t intend to stay in a relationship with him.
Someone else, maybe at the end of a long line, will be my last. Someone who won’t mind that I’m a walking disaster of epic proportions. Someone who won’t constantly make fun of me. Someone who won’t mind a slap on the knee or a crude joke. I just gotta work with what I’ve got to find him and keep him.
I look at Nate and wonder if I already have.