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"You're going to hate me." His voice wavers with the confession. "You're going to walk out of here if I tell you."
"Nathan." My voice cracks. He's going to tell me he fucked someone else yesterday in that room after I left because he was thinking about me.
He reaches behind where he's standing to lower himself onto the arm of a chair. "I came to see you at your apartment. Remember I told you that?"
I nod.
"I spent all day in bed before that. Stroking, thinking, coming. I had to get you out of my system. I couldn't help myself."
"What did you do?" Why does it matter to me? Wasn't the phone proof enough that he can't keep his cock out of commission for more than a few hours?
"I don't know how many times I came but it wasn't enough." He pulls his hand over his face. "This is just so fucked up."
I rest my face in my palms. I need to walk out of here. I need to end this right now.
"I got that room at the club so I could fuck you there." The words spill out so quickly they fall into one another in a twisted heap.
"What?"
"Jessica, please," his voice is soft and tempered. "Don't hate me for this."
"You got that room at the club to fuck me?" My eyes widen. I can feel them. I'm pulled back to the club in that moment. Pulled back to when he reached around to grab my waist. My body knew it was him. My body wanted him just as much as he wanted me.
"I signed up for the membership when you were dancing." He pulls his large frame up so he's standing again. "I just wanted to pull you into a room and slide into you. I needed to feel you around me. I haven't been able to focus or think straight in weeks."
"You knew you'd have sex with me there?" I'm both appalled and aroused by the epiphany.
"When you walked out of your apartment in that dress, Jessica." His breathing stalls. "I almost lost it on the street."
"I just went there to have fun. I wanted to forget…" I can't confess that to him.
"You wanted to forget me?" There's no surprise woven into the question. He knows that’s what I've been trying to do for weeks.
"I can't deal with this." I pull my hands to my mouth hoping that will stop the rush of emotions I feel. "You can't do things like this."
"Jessica." He's right next to me now. "I can't stop what I feel."
"It's all just sex." I want him to see that. I need him to see that everything between us centers on sex.
"You're wrong." His stance hardens. I've offended him. I can tell.
"I'm right," I counter. I look up into his face. There's so much emotion in his eyes. I can't read it all. I can't grasp what he's feeling.
"If it was all about sex, I would have hiked that tight dress up, slid my cock into you and fucked you hard until you screamed over and over again."
I take a step back out of sheer need. My body betrays me when he's so crude and direct. I know my breathing has increased. I can feel my pulse racing.
"You did have sex with me." I push back. "You licked my…"
"I wanted to hear you come. I crave the sound of that. There isn't a sweeter sound in this entire world than you when you're on the edge of an orgasm. I would kill to hear that." His breath catches before he continues, "I knew in that room after I heard you come twice that it was all I needed. I didn't need to get off. I didn't need to shoot my load between these perfect lips." He lazily runs the pad of his thumb over my parted lips. "I didn't need to feel my cock sliding into you. I knew then that the craving, the addiction, this never ending need that I have here…" He hits himself squarely on his hard chest with a fist. "Isn't about my cock. It's not about my need. It's all about you."
Chapter 13
"You've seen him again, haven't you?" Drew hands me another tray of carrots to peel. Before our awkward almost date he told me that he was recommending that I be moved up to dessert prep. My refusal to be exclusive with him meant that I'd be cleaning vegetables for the foreseeable future.
I toss the peels from the last batch into the bin for composting. "We're not going to talk about him." We aren't. The mere fact that I can't even wrap my head around what's happening with Nathan and I is enough to keep me from trying to explain it to anyone else.
"You know that he's always at the clubs, right?" The words are meant to hit me bluntly in the face. They do. I don't turn to look at him. I can't. I'm certain right now my expression is a mixture of anger and disappointment.
