55. Rosalyn

FIFTY-FIVE

ROSALYN

The vehicle stops, and my breath catches.

We're here.

And I'm really doing this.

As Nathan thanks the driver, I slip out my door and gulp down air.

When I hear footsteps nearing from around the back of the SUV, I slowly exhale, trying to appear calm.

Nathan appears, and he stops before me.

He holds out his hand. "Ready?"

I slip my palm into his. "Ready."

Nathan squeezes my fingers, then starts across the sidewalk to the massive building before us.

As we step through the front doors into the moodily lit lobby, Nathan reaches up and tugs his hood off.

His hair is messy, and it makes me want to touch it. Makes me want to brush it behind his ears again.

"Evening." A man behind a desk off to the side greets us.

I smile at him as Nathan greets him back.

I take in the man's black polo shirt with Security embroidered across one side of his chest.

"Fancy," I whisper to Nathan as we stop at the elevator bank .

He makes a sound of amusement while he presses the Up button. "It's a bit much, but it's close to my work." The elevator doors slide open. "And I like the view."

We step inside.

Nathan selects number thirty-three. The highest floor.

Nerves dance up my spine.

That's high.

The doors slide shut, sealing us inside.

My hand is still in Nathan's, and he tightens his grip.

"Rosie," he says quietly, and I look up at him. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

My mouth opens, but he flexes his hand around mine again, and I realize my fingers are trembling.

"That's not—" I stop and force myself to calm down. "I want to. I'm just… heights freak me out a little." I glance away, then back up at Nathan. "And… it's been a while. Since…"

Nathan's chest expands as he turns to face me. "It's been a while since what, Rosie?"

I focus my gaze on his chest. Like a coward. "Since I've been with a man."

He steps closer, his body nearly touching mine. "How long?"

I step back on instinct, bumping into the wall. "Years," I admit quietly. "It's been years."

Six years, to be exact, but embarrassment is already lighting up my cheeks, so I don't tell him the specifics.

I flick my eyes up to meet Nathan's.

But he doesn't look amused or surprised like I expected.

No. He looks hungry.

Nathan steps into me. Pressing himself against me.

Pressing his hardness into my body.

"Fuck," he groans and releases my hand. Warm palms cup my face, and he tips my head back. "How many years, Rosie? How many years has it been since a man stuffed himself inside you?"

I open my mouth to pull in air.

No one has ever talked to me like this. And as much as I didn't want to tell him, I can't resist .

I can't say no to Nathan Waller.

"Six."

His lids slide closed, and he leans into me more. "Six years."

Lust pools low in my belly at his tone, and I arch into him.

Something grows against me.

He's getting harder.

He slides his hands down to the sides of my neck, his thumbs meeting at the front of my throat, his fingers overlapping in the back. "I'm gonna stretch you out, Little Rose. Your poor neglected pussy is gonna be so sore tomorrow."

My knees sway, and I reach up, gripping his forearms.

The elevator doors slide open.

The fingers around my neck tighten the smallest amount as Nathan rocks his hips into me.

We both groan.

I dig my nails into his forearm.

I might have been nervous when we got into the elevator, but this man's filthy words pushed all the worry aside.

Now all I feel is need .