40. Best Kinds of Sex

FORTY

#5 Get Back Together Sex

The light was still pink the next morning when I woke up in Nathan's suite in yet another part of Paris I hadn't even thought to explore.

Two months I'd been here.

It suddenly seemed like such a waste.

And yet, it wasn't. My heart wouldn't have been in it, and what would have been the point of trudging through the City of Love with my heart utterly broken.

Now, it had been put back together, and suddenly, I wanted to see it all with him.

The room, while beautiful, was an utter mess. We hadn't lasted more than two seconds yesterday afternoon after the door closed behind us before Nathan had me pinned against a wall and was tearing my clothes off. Marie's skirt was ripped in two places. My underwear was shredded. We'd knocked over two lamps and broken one of them, and to my shock, it hadn't mattered. It was like Nathan could only see me, want me, need me.

And I gave as good as I got. First on the minibar, since we couldn't make it to the bed. Then on the couch after we took a water break. Then on the bed once we'd ordered some room service.

I rolled over to ask Nathan how long he was planning to stay but found him still sleeping, a delectable bit of stubble dusted over that razor-cut jaw as he lay face up. I wedged myself up on my side to watch, but almost as if he could sense me in his sleep, he rolled over, slung a heavy arm over my waist, and dragged me against his body. And his morning erection.

I grinned. Some things never changed.

"Fuck." The word came out as a rumble against my neck as his hand drifted down my still-naked body, taking hold of my ass and using it to pull me toward him.

This time, however, I wasn't interested in just being pulled. If my man wanted morning sex, then that was what he was going to get.

I nuzzled into his neck and licked his pulse, enjoying the warm scent of man that seemed to radiate off him. Nathan grumbled against me and squeezed me harder. Gently, I pushed him onto his back again, but only so I could crawl on top and cover him with my body, dropping kisses along his neck, collarbone, and the swell of his pectorals.

"Mmm." A growl sounded deep in his chest, vibrating against my cheek as his hands drifted up and down my body.

"Good morning," I said before I kissed back up his neck, then pressed a few more along his jawline.

One of his hands drew up my back and to my face, holding me in place so he could find my mouth with his.

After a few moments, we broke apart, though I could feel his long lashes fluttering on my cheekbone. Under my hip, I could feel him ready. I straddled my legs over his waist and rubbed myself up and down him like a cat.

Another groan as those beautiful brown eyes opened. Full of light. And full of love.

I purred.

"Okay?" I asked, poised to sink down on him.

His eyes blinked open as he clearly started to register exactly where we were and what was happening. It was almost like I could read each word as it passed across his face. Room. Morning. Joni. Sex.

Sex.

His eyes opened fully. "Yes."

And then he was thrusting from below, inside me again for the fifth time in the last twenty-four hours.

We hadn't been together long enough for me to realize one key fact: Nathan Hunt was insatiable. And he apparently had the same effect on me.

He paused, noticing me wince. "Should I stop? You're making one of the faces on the pain chart we show children."

I laughed, and it made me relax enough that I was able to take him further. "I'm a little sore, but I don't want you to stop. It feels too good."

He grunted and started moving beneath me, albeit a bit carefully. I laughed again, then pressed a hand flat to his chest, forcing him to stay still so I could work my body atop of his more forcefully.

Nathan made a pained sound as his eyes bulged. "God, Joni. Fuck."

"Does that feel good to you too?" I asked. "Do you like it when I ride you like this?"

His gaze seared as it passed up and down my body. I had never felt more beautiful, and it wasn't because of my clothes or my hair or any kind of performance.

It was because of him.

"Kiss me," Nathan ordered as he slipped a hand between us, finding my clit so he could tease me into a similar state of disarray. "Kiss me while I fuck you. Kiss me while you fuck me. Kiss me while I love you, you beautiful, beautiful woman."

I leaned forward to oblige, enjoying the delicious fullness and the way he sucked at my bottom lip like a piece of candy he wanted to devour.

We moved like that for some time, losing track of the places where one of our bodies ended and the other began. We whispered hushed phrases and unintelligible gasps in between merciless drives, our hands grasping for the other just to keep from floating away in a sea of pleasure.

But it wasn't really Nathan's body or voice or anything else that kept me rooted in this reality.

One word echoed while the others faded. The most important word of all.

Love.

"So, what should we do today?" I asked as I emerged from the shower in one of the hotel's plush robes. "Marie said Montmartre is fun. Full of artists. Or we could go see those paintings you told me about yesterday—everything all right?"

Nathan was sitting on the bed in a matching robe that barely fit his big body, thumbing through his phone with a frown. He'd put his glasses back on but, otherwise, looked deliciously rumpled, his hair a curly mop from my ministrations.

"Seriously," I said when he didn't answer. "That's quite an expression for a man who's had his mind blown for the past twenty-four hours."

He looked up, and I watched him slowly register the joke before he rearranged his features into a smile and then held out an arm for me to join him.

I went, allowing him to gather me to his side.

"Everything is…well, I don't know if I would call it fine. Do you still want to dance?"

I sat up, taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. "Dance? Like on the Seine?"

"No. Like as a job. Is it still what you want to do?"

"I…" I hadn't even thought about it. That was the one thing two months of misery over Nathan had given me—a reprieve from grieving the loss of my career.

Nathan waited for me to figure it out.

I sat cross-legged and toyed with the wet ends of my hair. "Yes, but?—"

"Good," he interrupted. "Because that's the other reason I'm here. I got a message from Jayce—Dr. McAndrew. He has an opening in his schedule this week. He said he could repair your knee on Thursday. I told him you would be there."

My mouth fell open. "You did what?"

Nathan turned, full of urgency. "I can cancel if you want, but it's already paid for. I still owe you six months' rent anyway. You'll have the surgery, stay with me while you recover, and you should be able to go back to Opal within a month. Seems like a fair trade, in my opinion."

My mouth opened and closed like a fish. I was completely and utterly shocked. Was this for real?

"I meant what I said that day in the studio," he said. "Call me a benefactor if you want, or just call me your boyfriend, but either way, Joni, I believe you deserve another chance at your calling. So, I'll ask you again, and this time, I want you to think carefully about it: do you want to dance?"

I didn't have to think about it. I didn't even have to wait.

"Yes," I said, my voice warbling with the intensity of my emotions. "Yes, I want to dance."

I launched myself at him, squeezing him so hard I was sure he couldn't breathe. He didn't push me away, though. He only hugged me back harder and accepted my kisses that said all the words I couldn't find through my emotions.

"Thank you," I finally managed when I pulled back. "It doesn't even cover it, but thank you."

The bashful smile on Nathan's face was a thing of beauty as he straightened his glasses. "We love each other," he said simply. "Doesn't love mean you want the other person to be happy? Shouldn't we try to help each other however we can?"

It was so simple.

And yet, so hard to fathom.

"Yes," I said softly. "I think we should."

He smiled, and it lit up the room. "Good, then it's settled. We'll go back to New York. And then, unfortunately, I'll have to go back to Virginia while you recover."

"Back?" I looked up. "Why were you there at all?"

Nathan nodded his head as he put on his glasses. "I took a sabbatical. An extended leave of absence." He sighed. "I made a deal with my father to focus on Huntwell for a few months. My father did end up announcing me as his planned successor at the gala."

That was enough to throw me into a sour mood. "Jerk."

He didn't argue. "I didn't accept. However, I did agree to spend a few months shadowing the interim CEO, fully learning the role. It seemed like a decent compromise. Until now."

"Until you ran off to find me, you mean?" I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt about it, as happy as I was that he'd come.

Nathan just pulled me closer. "I don't want to compromise anymore."

I wanted to tell him he shouldn't. That what his family was doing to him was horrible, and he should walk away.

But I knew he wouldn't. Because there was something else tethering him to that family besides just basic loyalty and goodness.

I swallowed. "Is it about Isla?" I was starting to become desperately curious about this girl who served as a pawn in Nathan's life.

He nodded. "She doesn't turn eighteen until August, and even then, I'm not sure I'll be able to step in. They haven't said as much, but I think they've already started the process of obtaining a full conservatorship over her care after she turns eighteen."

I pushed back so I could look at him. "Like what they did to Britney Spears?"

He frowned. "I don't know anything about that."

"She was this huge pop star, and then she went a little nuts, so her family used that to lock her down. She couldn't control anything. Not her money, her job, her medical stuff. Not even who she dated."

I shook my head in disbelief. I didn't like much of Britney Spears now, but I used to love her stuff when I was little. "Toxic" was my jam in the fourth grade.

Or maybe it was too easy to see myself in her a little bit. Under different circumstances, my own behavior could have set me up for that kind of control too.

Sadly, Nathan nodded. "It would be like that, yes."

"Does…does she need that kind of oversight?"

Nathan frowned. "It's hard to say. Autism is such a spectrum, and in many ways, Isla has far fewer accommodations than she used to. Her verbal skills have improved enormously over the years, and on good days, she can socialize quite well. She does, however, struggle on others. It's very difficult to engage her on any topics outside of her interests, which often border on obsession. Horses right now, mainly. Transitions are still nearly impossible. And most of her recent evaluations also indicate that her executive function—that's the skills needed to make decisions, set goals, organize one's life, and control impulses—is still highly underdeveloped."

"Sounds familiar," I said dryly.

Nathan turned to me. "ADHD and autism do share some overlapping traits. But it's not the same thing. And Isla's challenges still required substantial accommodation."

I quieted then. He'd mentioned that before, but it wasn't something I'd really considered. ADHD was one of those terms people had thrown at me like a weapon, a nasty name when they were annoyed by my flightiness. Not something that might actually help me.

"I need to observe her more myself," he said as he laid back against the pillow. "But I suspect a limited guardianship would be more appropriate while she continues working with therapists to pursue school and continues learning how to manage her life. And I don't want my parents to have that power."

"To box you under their control too?" I asked.

Nathan didn't say anything, which I took as a confirmation. At this point, having met his parents myself, I had no doubt that his mother at least was capable of that kind of manipulation.

"That's fucked up."

He nodded. "I agree." Then he turned to me again. "I don't want it to continue this way. I can't. Not with you. Not anymore. But rather than engage my parents and Isla in a protracted and painful legal battle, I think it might be easier if I play their game."

I didn't like it. I didn't like it at all. But I also couldn't see another way out of it. Nathan cared deeply about Isla. Therefore…I cared deeply too.

"Well, I guess that's that," I said. "How soon after the surgery do we leave?"

He turned to me again. "We? Joni, you don't have to go. It's just the reason I won't be able to stay in New York while you recuperate."

That idea turned me cold. "What?"

"You'll be all right," he said. "Meniscectomies are usually very quick to heal. You'll be walking around the same day. Most patients heal completely in four to six weeks, and then you can work with a PT to get back into dancing shape."

"Yeah, but…but…four to six weeks is more than a month without you!" I almost shouted as I sat up straight.

The bathrobe fell apart, baring a bit more of my chest than was strictly decent. Nathan clearly noticed, but was too much of a gentleman to ogle.

He turned to face me and gently pulled the collar of my robe closed, but didn't release it. Instead, he used it to pull me close, kiss me again, and nuzzle my face, like he knew just what would calm me down.

It worked. But only to calm my tone—not the passion behind it.

"Do I make you happy?" I asked him. "Honestly. If I'm more of a problem, then I don't want to add to what you already have. But would having me around make you happy, even if it's with your parents?"

Nathan's eyes shone bright. "It would. You make me happier than I ever thought possible."

"Then you're not doing this alone," I said, grabbing his collar right back so he couldn't turn away. "I'm coming with you."

"Joni, my family—they won't be kind to you?—"

"I don't care about that," I interrupted, though the idea of spending quality time with a woman who had basically called me a whore and a dude who shared my most intimate business with everyone didn't sound amazing.

But there was no way I was letting my kind, sweet Nathan walk into that mess alone. Absolutely not.

"You're not doing this alone," I told him again. "I don't know what I can do to help, but I'll figure out something. Even if it's just being there."

I kissed him again, and this time, he didn't stop me. Didn't argue. Just kissed me back.

"Besides," I told him once we finally managed to break apart. "You're heading back into a lion's den, so you'll need someone with claws on your side. I grew up in a family full of cats, baby. My claws are razor sharp."