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His thumbs begin to circle once more. Oh god. That’s so good.
“No,” he murmurs, pushing deeper into my flesh. “It’s just you.”
Okay, I’m all for compliments but this is making me feel weird. The position, the touching, and the way he’s speaking. “I feel better now.”
“Relax,” he presses into my back again and I half relent. “What did you do in town?”
“Went for coffee and for a walk,” groan, that feels amazing. “Then we went into the book store.”
“It didn’t have anything you like?”
“It did.”
He waits for me to continue, I don’t, I’m too drugged on this wave of relaxation that’s sinking into me; making my skin burn and my blood warm. “Continue.”
“If I do that I’d have to move,” I grumble and feel him laugh silently.
“Just tell me the name of the book.”
I don’t even know my own name right now, “It doesn’t have a name; it’s unwritten.”
“Now I’m intrigued.”
I smile into the blanket, savouring the feel of his leather clad fingers circling and dragging across the skin of my back. Goose pimples swell over every inch of my skin. I feel his thighs brush mine, unintentionally I think; either way it makes me whisper a moan into the peach coloured fabric. My nipples pebble as his hands cup my hips and his groin brushes against my once more.
“I got something for you,” I manage to say, willing myself to pull away. Screams echo through my mind as I chastise my traitorous body mentally.
This time he deliberately presses himself into me, I feel the swelling in his pants and gasp. This is wrong.
He acts normal even though his own body is betraying him, I feel the trembling in his hands as they explore my skin. “Why for me?”
“I just saw it and thought you’d like it. You probably won’t.”
“I will,” he breathes and this thumbs dip under the seam of my trousers, right above my soft globes.
“Nathan,” I warn as his breathing deepens and he presses himself into me once more.
He lets out a quiet moan, almost like a whimper and grinds into me. Heat pools in my belly, I can’t help it. I’m almost six months pregnant, my hormones are raging. I know this is wrong, so damn wrong. Why does it feel so good?
“Nathan,” this time my voice isn’t a warning, it’s pleading.
His hands trail down the outside of my thighs, dragging across the fabric as they go. In a second they cup the front of my thighs and slowly peel them open, causing my breath to hitch and my heart to accelerate.
Chapter Sixteen
A voice shoots through my mind, one I know so well. One that doesn’t exist anymore.
“My brother isn’t normal. Stay away from him, Gwen. Okay?”
As if a bucket of ice is dropped on me I cry out and scramble away, Nathan instantly releases me; not that he had a chance to grip me as my action was rather sudden. I sit on the floor looking at his flushed face and wild brown eyes. They come to me and his hand reaches out.
“No,” I say, my head shaking back and forth frantically.
He sits back, his legs bent in front of him, his hands resting on the curves of his knees. We both stare at each other for a long while.
What just happened?
I daren’t ask him why he’s doing this, mostly because I’m afraid of the answer.
“Gwen,” he says calmly and stands slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. Placing his hand in the air he waits for me to take it. I don’t, I daren’t risk it right now. I’m aching in places I shouldn’t, so I don’t trust my body.
“Here,” I lower my eyes and rush into my closet, hiding under a few folded bed sheets is the journal I bought for him. My hands smooth the parcel paper as I walk back towards him, chewing on my lip nervously. “It’s not much, nothing in comparison to what you’ve done for me.” I wasn’t going to give it to him yet but it seems like an okay distraction for now.
He stares at me with a frown, “You don’t have to pay me back.”
“I want to, it’s what friends do,” I add this last bit giving him an imploring look. See reason, please see reason.
Dilated pupils stare intently at my face as I look away, his hands take the gift from mine and slowly peel away the paper. I hope he likes it, truly I do.
The silence stretches between us as the journal finally comes into view. He looks from the leather bound book to me and then back again. His hands turn it over before stroking it to feel the patterned grooves that make the cover.
“This is wonderful,” he says sincerely. “You said you got this from the book store in town?”
“Yes, it literally caught my eye.”
