24. Ways I Could Measure Nathan’s dick

TWENTY-FOUR

#5 compear it to a pensil when hes sleepng. Or something alot bigger

Iawoke to the sound of birds chirping.

Birds chirping. In Manhattan. In January.

Slowly, I blinked my eyes open to find a bright red bird sitting on the window sill, pecking at a feeder hanging from the fire escape and occasionally bursting into a song loud enough to be heard through the double-paned windows. Like I was Sleeping Beauty, and he was here to escort me through the concrete jungle I called home.

Birds, I realized. Nathan had a thing for birds. Enough that he had taken the time to purchase and install a feeder for them outside his window, in the exact right place for him to watch them when he woke up every morning.

For a split-second, I imagined him tromping through Central Park with a pair of binoculars and one of those utility vests with thousands of pockets. Maybe he would be wearing a backward baseball cap for good measure, and every so often, he'd turn around and point out a whippoorwill or a chickadee or whatever the heck else was roaming the woods in the middle of the city.

I'd have to add it to my list of Nathan's surprises.

I didn't know why a bird fixation only added to his general appeal, but it did. It really did. So much so that my lips suddenly felt swollen with the desire to kiss him, and my heart seemed to beat right between my legs.

That was when I realized that ache wasn't just because of the nerd porn playing in my head. And I wasn't just warm because of the cloudlike duvet protecting me from the otherwise chilly morning air.

There was a muscled arm slung over my waist. Another wedged under my neck and pillow. A broad chest pressed against my back, and a heavy leg draped over my hip.

I peeked under the covers to discover that, yes, I was completely and totally wrapped up in Nathan Hunt, who was currently still dead to the world, his long nose buried in the back of my hair while his breath whispered along the nape of my neck.

Was I surprised to wake up spooned by my fake boyfriend?

Yes.

Did I hate it?

Not even close.

I shifted slightly, and—What is that?

I froze as I realized that, yes, the erection I'd teased him about so mercilessly the night before was definitely wedged between my legs. Not only that, but it appeared to be taking its revenge for me being a brat about it. Somehow, it had popped out of the opening in his briefs and slipped directly between my thighs. Which were also not helping things by quickly, er, lubricating the situation.

The arm around my waist tightened as if in reflex, and a low growl emitted behind my ear as Nathan pulled me against him in his sleep. His hips tilted into my ass, and the entirety of him slipped another inch closer to home.

I should have jumped up. I should have shouted, "OH MY GOD, IT'S A CARDINAL IN THE WINDOW," hit Nathan with a pillow, and launched into the tap dance routine I did for my eighth-grade production of The Music Man. Literally, anything to break this horrible, torturous, delicious tension. Something other than lying here, breathing hard, and trying not to spread my legs just enough for the tip of him to find me. The last thing he needed was to wake up already having sex with the woman he'd said quite clearly was not a person he wanted to date in reality.

Just pretend.

We were just pretend.

And this…wasn't pretending.

Nor was it consenting.

I squeezed my legs together—which did not help my problem, by the way, since now I could feel the entire length of him wedged between my thighs.

Nathan groaned, and the hand at my waist moved up to cup my breast. "Need you," he mumbled, his deep voice thick with sleep.

It wasn't me. I just had to keep telling myself. It wasn't me his body wanted like this first thing in the morning. Just like it wasn't me that he'd gathered in his arms while he slept.

He'd had a serious relationship once, before he became an eminent surgeon. Maybe it was her who sparked dreams like the one he was currently having.

An unreasonable pang of jealousy sprouted in my gut as I wondered what kind of woman would inspire that in Nathan. She was probably just like him—someone accomplished, intelligent, self-assured. Someone who had her shit together. Someone who deserved his brand of frank compassion and kindness.

Someone who had let him go. Because I was somehow sure that's what happened. I didn't know Nathan well, but I knew he was loyal. I knew he made commitments and didn't go back on his word. I knew he was there for others, even when he didn't want to be. I knew he worked hard to please his family and the people he loved. And that if he had loved someone else, he would have never left her of his own accord.

Which meant she had left him.

For a moment, I hated her. I hated this woman who had, in some way, treated this quiet, incredible man like garbage. I hated her for not knowing what she had because if she did, she would have never tossed him aside like he was nothing.

I hated her because, for just a moment, I wished I was her.

I wished someone like me could ever have a legitimate chance with someone like him.

And then I hated myself for knowing I never would.

"Come here," Nathan rumbled, clearly still asleep.

Just like he was still in dreamland when he nuzzled behind my ear and thrusted his hips against my ass again as the hand over my breast kneaded softly. His cock slipped further between my thighs, and this time, I couldn't help but moan as it tickled my slick entrance.

The effect was immediate. The hand on my breast squeezed just before he flipped me around in his arms, slipped a hand around my nape, and kissed me. Hard.

I moaned again, knowing I should break the kiss, but unable to do it. His mouth was so warm and insistent, even in sleep. His grip so intense. Addictive, even.

Then Nathan's eyelashes blinked against my cheeks. And he proceeded to fly off me like a bat out of hell. "Jesus!"

I remained curled up in the other direction while I listened to the sounds of him scrambling off the bed, swearing lightly to himself, then quietly pulling some clothes out of his dresser. I didn't dare move. Not until I could get my expression together and convincingly play the Girl Who's Been Asleep the Whole Time.

I rolled over just as Nathan had put on his glasses and was making for the door in nothing but his plaid pajama pants.

With daylight dappling his bare chest and stepladder abs, the man looked even more delicious than he had last night, even half-asleep and clearly freaked out. His hair was mussed, and his lips were swollen from the kiss.

I wondered if they were throbbing like mine.

"Good morning," I said, with what I hoped was a very sleepy, slightly confused smile. Not a been-turned-on-for-the-last-fifteen-minutes smile. More of a what-just-happened? smile.

Though if anyone could stay asleep through a kiss like that, she was probably dead.

Nathan's face was bright red as he looked at everything in the room but me. "Uh, hello. Yes, um, good morning."

I propped my head up on one hand. "Sleep all right?"

Nathan nodded and shoved his glasses up his nose. "All right. Sure."

Liar. I only knew that because it had taken me a full ninety minutes of staring at the ceiling to drift off, fully conscious of the two hundred or so pounds of absurdly good-smelling man next to me. And Nathan had been spinning like an egg beater the whole night, as though he absolutely could not get comfortable with me next to him.

I smiled wider. He blinked like an owl, like he was waiting for me to do something. Scream, maybe?

Or invite him back to bed?

I almost did it. God knew I wanted to.

"I'm, um, going to make some coffee," he said. "Would you like some?"

I nodded. "Please."

His gaze drifted over me. I was still clad in his T-shirt and my underwear, though in his flurry to escape the bed, the duvet had been pulled off one of my legs.

He managed to drag his eyes back to my face. "There's, um, a, uh, robe of mine you can borrow in the closet. Because of Carrick."

Again, I nodded. I'd have to sneak some things in here later today. Hopefully, Carrick had errands to run.

Five minutes later, I was up and swimming in Nathan's bathrobe, an absurdly cozy cashmere thing that made me want to curl up like a cat in a window sill and look through a fashion magazine.

I padded down the hall toward the kitchen but stopped just outside when I heard Carrick's voice.

"I gotta say, well done, brother. Well fucking done."

I frowned and clutched the collar of Nathan's robe close. I knew I didn't like Carrick.

There was a pause while Nathan ground the espresso beans. "What exactly are you congratulating me for?"

"Just, you know, good for you. It's about time you moved on."

Moved on from who?

Her, my subconscious told me. There was only one person it could be. His college sweetheart, the one who'd broken his heart. At least in my imagination, that's what she did.

I listened to the familiar sounds of Nathan working his espresso machine. "I didn't need to ‘move on' from Julietta. We were never even a little bit serious. It's not a big loss or anything."

Okay, so not her. One of the flings, then. Someone more recent, apparently.

I didn't ask why that made me want to claw her eyes out.

On the other side of the wall, Carrick just chuckled. "Nothing sticks to you, just like Teflon, eh? Better way to be, even if she was a supermodel. Still, not a bad piece of ass for my shut-in brother."

Again, I scowled. He made Nathan sound like a creepy hermit, but he wasn't that at all. He was shy, was all. A little reserved. He didn't deserve to be treated like a weirdo for it.

"Anyway, this one's a nice little rebound, but did you really need to give her a room to get some pussy?" Carrick went on. "Based on her stuff, she probably would have settled for five hundred bucks and a smack on the ass. I think that bed frame is older than Mom. Squeakier too."

I winced. Asshole. But more importantly, apparently, our pretend game wasn't working so well. Even spending the night in Nathan's room hadn't convinced his brother that we were actually a serious couple.

"Don't talk about Joni that way," Nathan said, his tone sharpening in a way I hadn't heard before. "It's not like that."

"Nate, come on. You can't possibly think she's a long-term prospect. Girls like that are good for one night, not forever." Carrick snorted as loudly as a horse. "Or ten years, depending on your theory of marriage. Keep it on the side, brother. Or maybe just as an appetizer. Definitely not the main course."

Tears pricked my eyes as I slumped against the wall. Okay, so maybe this served me right for eavesdropping. It wouldn't have been the first time I'd heard people—mainly my own family members—saying harsh things about me when they thought I wasn't listening.

But that didn't mean it didn't hurt. And for whatever reason, Carrick's nasty words hurt a lot.

Or maybe it was just the fact that Nathan wasn't arguing with them.

"I swear to God, though," Carrick went on. "If you fuck again while I'm on the other side of the wall, I will come in there and watch, you pervert. Or else she can come next door after if she's willing."

Suddenly, there was a crash, and when I got up the nerve to peek around the corner, I found the two brothers thrashing around the kitchen. The two stools from the kitchen island toppled to the ground while the copper pots hanging above swung from side to side, clanging into each other. Nathan's face was etched with murder as he whipped his brother around into a full nelson, then pinned him against the counter.

Carrick, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. Laughing, even.

He really was unhinged.

"You sneaky little fuck," he wheezed as Nathan shoved his forearm into his windpipe. "I didn't know you still had it in you."

"I said stop," Nathan ground between his teeth. "I meant it."

Well, now I knew how he learned to finish those fights he mentioned. I also know who picked them.

"Um, good morning?"

Both men's heads jerked to me as I picked up the stools, then sat on one, keeping the counter squarely between me and the brawling brothers.

"Good morning," Nathan said again. He didn't, however, release his brother. "Would you like a pour over or a cappuccino?"

I nodded. "Uh…whatever's easiest is fine."

He turned back to Carrick, who honestly seemed to be entertained in his struggle to breathe.

"Apologize," Nathan ordered through his teeth. "Now."

Carrick darted a narrow glance at me, then looked back at his brother. "For what? She didn't hear anything."

"I don't care," Nathan said in a tone that was as even and low as it normally was, but still somehow made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "She's here now. So now you're going to apologize, or you're going to get the fuck out of my apartment. Your choice."

"Is that right?"

Carrick glanced between the two of us with sharp, calculating eyes. Then he offered me a smile that was anything but kind. It reminded me of the Bible stories of the serpent. Exactly how the snake had probably looked before he tempted Eve with the apple.

"I apologize, Joni," he said. "For anything I might have said that was inappropriate." He looked back at Nathan. "Now, let me go, you big fucking bully. I have a meeting across town in forty minutes, and you're creasing my suit."

Nathan released his hold on Carrick, who immediately strode for the kitchen exit, though he stopped beside me as if to look me over one more time.

"Interesting," he said as he took in the bathrobe, my messy bun, and the chipped polish on my nails. "Very interesting."

I didn't ask what. I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

"Have a good day," I called as he left. Or don't, you dick.

"And get a hotel room while you're out," Nathan called after.

"Not on your life!" came Carrick's shout just before the front door slammed behind him.

It echoed around us, along with Carrick's veiled comments.

"I'm sorry about that," Nathan said mildly as he returned to the espresso machine and started the process of making us both drinks.

I'd watched him do this several times at this point, and there was something about the way his big hands moved capably over the machine, pulling shots and pressing the beans, all to produce such a delicate drink. This was why he was a surgeon, I realized. He approached everything with finesse.

My right breast tingled, remembering the exact feel of that deft touch. Even in his sleep.

"Which part are you sorry for?" I wondered as Nathan set a mug in front of me. He'd poured the design of a flower with the milk this morning. "The spontaneous fighting or the part where your brother compared me to antipasti?"

Nathan grimaced as he took a sip of his coffee. "You heard that."

"I did." I patted his hand. "Don't worry about it. I've definitely heard worse."

That didn't seem to help. He grabbed my hand and tugged lightly, as if to beckon for my attention. "I hate that you've been treated like that by anyone. My brother is an asshole."

"Well, not totally," I said with a grin. "His body has other parts too."

The joke didn't land. Nathan just released my hand and shook his head. "About this morning…if I did anything inappropriate…"

"You mean the part where you woke me up with full tongue?" I took a big sip of coffee, if only to hide the grin I couldn't quite stifle at the thought of that kiss. Under the counter, I squeezed my legs together, grateful he couldn't see.

Nathan just grimaced. "You were awake."

"Kind of hard not to be when someone tries to maul you first thing in the morning." I shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I've also definitely?—"

"If you tell me again you've experienced worse behavior that way too, I honestly might hunt the perpetrator down today instead of going to work," Nathan said without even looking at me.

There was no levity in his voice. Not even a hint of sarcasm.

I put my coffee down.

"Don't do that," I said just as solemnly. "I was making a bad joke."

When he looked up, the intensity in his eyes made my whole body quiver in response.

"I don't like those jokes," he said quietly. "I don't like jokes about anyone mistreating you. You don't ever deserve to be hurt."

Something in my chest tightened at his words, and I found it difficult to swallow. It was such a simple thing to say that no one should hurt me. You'd think I'd have heard it plenty of times, with a giant family who supposedly loved me and five siblings to watch my back.

But no one ever had. Not out loud. Not like that.

"Thank you," I said just as quietly.

"You're welcome."

"And I…well, I was just trying to lighten the mood. The truth is, it wasn't bad at all. Waking up with you, I mean. Or the kiss, even if it wasn't me you were kissing, exactly. Whoever you were dreaming about…she's a lucky woman."

Nathan's gaze met mine with such force, I almost fell off my stool. It was an expression I'd never seen before. Confusion, maybe. Mixed with something almost like grief.

He must really miss her, whoever she was.

The mystery women from years past.

His long-lost love.

For whatever reason, the idea suddenly felt unbearable.

I slid off my stool and picked up my drink. "Thank you for the coffee. I'm, um, going to get ready for the day." To do what, I wasn't sure. I wasn't working until tomorrow.

"Wait."

I turned. Nathan was still staring hard at me, but he shook his head and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows.

"You don't have to go," he said. "To the gala. Carrick…he's just a preview of what my parents are like. If you don't want to put up with it, you don't have to. I can make it work."

I considered him for a long moment. I wasn't going to lie. After interacting with Carrick and learning a bit too much about Nathan's family, the entire idea was starting to feel like an icicle shoved through my chest.

"But…wasn't that the point of all this?" I asked. "To show your parents and these business people that you're actually well-adjusted and happy? Unless you think Carrick is going to blow things…"

Nathan sighed, obviously not thrilled with the idea himself. "He'll behave himself in public. Spencer usually does too. And my parents won't misbehave in front of board members."

"But what if Carrick tells them what he said to you?"

Nathan nodded. But still looked uneasy.

"What? What is it?"

He bit his lip. "I think it's going to take something…more…to convince my parents I should stay in New York. Not just a roommate. Or a girlfriend."

I tipped my head. "Shit. It's not working?"

He sighed. "My mother wants all of her sons close. But there is something my father wants more."

"What's that?"

He swallowed thickly. "An heir. In the form of a grandchild."

I stilled. "Dude. Um, I don't think we can fake that."

Nathan gave me a look. "I know that. But if you're willing—and you can say no, Joni. You can always say no with me—it might be more convincing if you weren't just my girlfriend. But maybe my fiancée too. If we told them we were getting married. And that we wanted to start a family soon."

I couldn't move. Now, he wanted people to believe we were truly in love? That we wanted a whole life together, with a house and kids and the whole nine yards?

I could pretend that. I could probably live that for real.

The thought was terrifying.

"After what Carrick said, do you really think anyone would believe it?" I had to ask. "Do you really think they would believe someone like you would want to marry someone like me?"

I hated that I had to ask. But the question was too obvious not to.

Nathan seemed to think on that for a long moment too.

"If they don't believe I care for you, then it's because they don't want to believe it," he said finally.

"Or maybe you're just not a very good actor," I said, half-jokingly. "It's a good thing, Nathan. It means you're honest."

"So are you."

Was I?

Right now, I wasn't so sure.

But I did know one thing.

"You asked me to be there, so I'm going," I said. "We have a job to do, and I'm going to see it through on Saturday night. Apparently, with a ring on it."

I touched my hair and examined my empty fingers and the nails that were already starting to chip. I was running out of funds to keep up with these engagements.

"I'll get one," Nathan said. "Something nice. Something you can keep later. For…whatever you need."

I didn't even want to ask how much that would cost him. Or admit to myself how good it might feel to wear something like that from him.

Even if it was just a costume. Even if it was just pretend.

"Okay," I said as I pulled out my phone to text Kyle.

After I'd served drinks at Diamonds a few nights last week, he'd offered me a chance to serve at one of the gaming nights with Rochelle.

I wasn't sure I was going to take it. I was honestly hoping I wouldn't have to.

But a new manicure and a blowout weren't going to pay for themselves.

And I didn't want to give Carrick or anyone else at that event a reason to think I didn't belong there.

At least on the outside. I already knew the inside was a lost cause.