Page 62 of Until I Keep You

I will finish this book come hell or high water, Nate Lyons be damned.

“Good book, huh?”

I narrow my eyes at the page.

The words are starting to blur together.

Nate’s thumb brushes up against my clit.

I grit my teeth, not letting the shock of pleasure cause me to make a noise I’ll regret. “Really good.”

“Ah…”

A finger dips inside me. Then two.

Nate pumps his hand into me. Slow… I can see it in my mind’s eye if I try hard enough.

I still don’t react.

But he’s there. Hand between my legs, leaning over me, waiting for me to give up with the book.

I fucking refuse. Not yet.

“Tell me what’s happening. Do you think I’d like it?”

I gulp some air, fixating on the page harder, though I’m no longer reading.

I’m doing everything in my power not to give Nate satisfaction. “It’s the eighth in a series. So, you’d have to start at the beginning.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” I bite down on the word as if it’s a rag in my mouth.

Nate laughs. It roils out so warm and delectable it goes right to my clit. “Come on, princess, let go for me.”

Princess. That fucking nickname. Does it to me every time.

I slam the book down on my chest. “I hate you.” I lock eyes with Nate.

He leans over me, pumping his hand faster. “I bet you do.”

Nate kisses me hard, and I moan into his mouth, thinking “fuck you” and also “fuck me” at the same time.

I love it here.

My hips commune with his hand.

I grin against him, my clit twitching and perking, eager for an orgasm.

Ripping my lips from his, I moan out his name, my head falling back onto the lounge.

Nate presses his face to my neck, teething at the skin desperately. “I’m gonna make you come,” he growls into me.

I gasp and giggle. I’m so close, so fucking close.

My concentration is interrupted by the sound of gravel crunching under tires. The same sound when we drove up to the house a week ago.

I lift my head and look down at the driveway where a black pickup truck has parked.

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