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I blinked, taking in my surroundings. Judging from the light slipping between the blinds, it couldn’t have been later than seven in the morning, maybe even earlier than that. One glance at my phone confirmed that it was, indeed, about six-thirty. It was a Tuesday, so I assumed that Nathan had to go to work. Judging by the sounds I heard from the bathroom—I heard an electric buzzing, probably a razor or trimmer or some sort—Nathan was getting ready for the day.
I slipped out from under the covers, stretching as I sat on “my” side of the bed. Last night replayed in my mind, and I couldn’t help but smile. Who knew that I would get the best orgasm of my life from a man—as Brooklyn put it—that I met on the internet?
And we hadn’t even had sex yet.
I shivered with anticipation. When Nathan took off his clothes the night before, I got a good look at what I had only guessed at. It was obvious that he worked out regularly, as his biceps and abs were on full display. He exuded strength as he had lifted and carried me from the kitchen to his bedroom, and I could see the evidence of that strength as he stood in front of me. His smooth, dark skin glowed in the dim light of his room, his smile bright in contrast. He was, in short, beautiful.
And that was not the only thing that was beautiful.
I bit my lip, remembering how he stood thick and proud, his arousal evident by what was between his legs. His gaze, which had been admittedly tentative in the kitchen, was confident and desire-filled, especially when he undressed me.
I frowned, coming back to the question that kept repeating in my mind:Then why didn’t we have sex?
After I orgasmed, I attempted to steer us in that direction, but Nathan seemed content just to make out and cuddle until we fell asleep. When we spooned, I could feel his hardness on my backside, and he had peppered the back of my neck with kisses, even as he lulled me to sleep.
I didn’t push the issue, because I didn’t want to be the type of person that forced someone to have sex, but I was confused. Did he not think I could handle it? I had hoped to clear up the confusion about me being a virgin, but it seemed like he still thought that I was…pure. Or unable to handle him maybe?
“Hey, beautiful,” I heard from behind me. I turned to see a grinning, fully dressed Nathan. He had on a slate-gray suit with a black, skinny tie, the material of the suit and shirt molding to every curve of his body. Wetness pooled between my legs.
“You sleep well?” he asked.
I nodded, relieved that he didn’t seem to be awkward this morning. “I did,” I said, yawning. “Did you?”
He came around to my side of the bed, arms on either side of me as he kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes and took in the sweetness of the gesture, along with the scent of his cologne. Before I could truly bask in it, he straightened up, the smile still on his face. “Like a baby,” he boasted. “Best sleep of my life. For two nights in a row now, sleeping next to you has improved my sleep considerably. I feel like a new man! You should’ve added to your profile that you’re an expert-level cuddler.”
I laughed, though I felt a tinge of frustration as I recalled the instance in which I had turned to face him and let my hands wander, and he moved them back into…safer territory. “I’ve never been told that before,” I admitted, shrugging.
“Well, now you know.” He started toward the door, looking back at me when he got to the doorway. “There’s coffee in the pot, but I have a little bit of time before I go. Want to have breakfast with me? I promise to keep it to cereal and maybe toast.” This he said with a wry smile.
“Sure,” I said, standing up. Then, I looked down at myself and laughed sheepishly. “Let me shower really quick, and I’ll meet you out there.”
His eyes heated for a moment as they made their way down my body. But as he met my eyes, his gaze shuttered.
“Sounds good,” he said. With that, he turned and walked out of the room.
I huffed my frustration. In my own experience, and from what I saw in movies, men who were attracted to women could think of nothing else when a naked woman was in front of them. And though Nathan seemed noble and unfailingly kind, I couldn’t understand it.
It wasn’t as if Nathan found me unattractive. That much was apparent, between the night before and this morning. So what the heck was going on??
I puzzled over it throughout my shower and getting ready, coming up with different explanations and summarily throwing them away. Finally, I decided I was going to talk to him about it.
I had worked myself into such a state of heightened frustration, I barely noticed Nathan in the foyer until he called my name.
I watched as he put on his shoes, frowning. “Leaving already?” I asked. “I thought we would have time to eat breakfast together. Did I take too long in the shower?”
“No, you’re fine,” he said. He grimaced. “My admin assistant called and said we have a bit of an emergency. Rain check on breakfast?”
“Of course,” I said. “Is everything alright?”
He shrugged. “I mean, it will be soon enough. But I have to get to the office.”
He leaned toward me, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “See you later, Cinderelly.” And with that, he was out the door, keys in hand.
I rubbed my forehead, pressure building up behind my eyes.We’ve only been married a week, and already, we’ve gotten to the lack of talking stage, I thought.
“Well, might as well eat and get on with my day,” I said aloud. I wandered to the kitchen, pouring some coffee and scouting for food. Nathan had a fully stocked pantry and fridge, complete with bread for toast, eggs, avocados, and tomatoes. I decided to whip up a hummus and spinach bowl from a recipe I’d found online, which also included boiled eggs, tomatoes, and garlic.
When I finished making breakfast, I sat down at the kitchen island and checked my texts. There wasn’t much—there was one from my dad, and one from Brooklyn asking about my schedule for the next few days—but I paused when I saw a message from Estelle.
