In the Likely Event(100)

“Which part?” I teased, nipping at his lower lip. God, I’d missed this. Missed everything about how right it felt to be in his arms.

“You know which part.” He drew back to look into my eyes, and my heart raced.

“I’ve always loved you. I am in love with you, Nathaniel Phelan.” I lifted my hands, running them through his wet hair. “And you love me too.”

“Do I?” A corner of his mouth lifted.

“You do.” My fingers trailed down his neck and across his shoulders. “Your call sign wouldn’t be Navarre if you didn’t.”

He captured my mouth again, the kiss spinning beyond control with the first few strokes of his tongue. This was what I wanted, what I needed, and not just for the few minutes we had, but for the rest of my life. I never wanted to go another day without being in his arms.

“I need you.” I’d never spoken a single sentence with so many meanings, and they were all true. I needed him in every way possible.

“I know. God, I know.” His hand shifted between us, his fingers dancing tantalizingly on my skin beneath my waistband. “I feel the same way.” He kissed my chin, my jaw, and the spot just beneath my ear before skimming his lips down my neck, sending a shudder of pure want down my spine and adding to the gathering need between my thighs.

My head fell back as his mouth worked down my chest, then covered the peak of my breast through the fabric, testing my nipple gently with his teeth.

“I’ve wanted to touch you from the second you stepped off that plane,” he said, tugging my tank top down to bare my breasts and sucking at each tip.

I moaned, my fingers digging into his bare shoulders, my body leaning into his.

“It took everything I had not to grab ahold of you and kiss you until you threw that goddamned ring off your finger and remembered what we felt like together.” He raked his teeth over me and dipped his fingers down the plane of my stomach. “There hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought of you, haven’t missed you, wanted you, loved you.”

My knees weakened.

“Please tell me I can have you.” The tips of his fingers grazed the top of my thong.

“I’m yours.”

He lifted his head and kissed me hard and deep at the same moment his fingers found me, and I whimpered into his mouth. Banding his arm around the back of my thighs, he held me upright as he pumped two fingers inside me with the same rhythm of his tongue.

Oh God. Need and lust swirled within me, overruling every thought that wasn’t closer, more, and now. Nate had always known how to play my body, had spent hours edging my orgasms, building them until I couldn’t take it anymore, but I wasn’t going to be able to wait. Not this time.

I hooked my thumbs in the elastic of my pajama pants and my underwear and pushed them down my legs, stepping out and kicking them free.

“Izzy,” he groaned against my mouth, then broke the kiss to tug my shirt off with his free hand. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Don’t stop,” I begged as he added his thumb, working me in the exact way I liked, the way he knew I needed. I touched him every place I could reach, stroking my hands down his arms, his chest, around to the irresistible expanse of his back.

“No chance.” Years of pent-up desire built and coiled, stringing my body tight. Every kiss took me higher, every plunge of his fingers brought the pleasure further to the point of pain.

But I didn’t want to come like this, not after all this time.

I tugged the towel from his hips and wrapped my hand around him. He hissed as I stroked the hard length of him, swirling my thumb over the blunt tip.

“I want you inside me.”

“Good, because that’s exactly where I want to be.” His eyes locked with mine as I straddled his lap, rising on my knees so he fit perfectly against my entrance. “I love you, Isabeau Astor.”

The words filled my chest, and I kissed him as I lowered myself inch by glorious inch, my muscles gripping tight as he thrust upward and took me to the hilt.

We both groaned.

This was what I’d been missing. Not just his body, but him. The way he looked at me, touched me, made me feel like there was nothing in this world that mattered more than the fit of our bodies, the combined rhythm of our hearts.

“Fuck, Izzy.” He gripped my hips and lifted me, his biceps flexing, before he slammed back up into me. “You feel better than every dream I’ve ever had. Every memory. Every fantasy. So goddamn hot.”

“Again,” I demanded, winding my arms around his neck and rocking back into his hips when he gave me what I asked for. Every stroke of him radiated through my body, my fingers and toes tingling with the sweetest hum of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Then he stilled, all but freezing beneath me.

“Nate?” I asked, pulling back just enough to see his face in the dim light.

“We can’t.” He lifted my hips again, agonizingly slow, and the strain of the action showed on every line of his face, as if he was fighting his own instincts.

I took his face in my hands. “Yes. We can.” Swinging my hips, I took him all the way and bit my lower lip at how phenomenal he felt inside me.

“I don’t have a condom.” He bit out every word. “I wasn’t exactly planning on this.”

“Oh.” My hips swiveled of their own accord, as if my body was more than willing to take what I tried to withhold. “That’s okay.”