16Nathan woke slowly but immediately registered the thumping headache and dry mouth. It must be Sunday, and he must have been drunk last night. Nothing unusual there. He sensed he was not alone and he opened his eyes, wincing at the piercing morning sunlight. There was a woman lying next to him. Nothing unusual there either. But then he took in the wild mop of dirty blonde hair and the tiny rose tattoo on the wrist that lay next to his pillow and he remembered.
Oh boy, did he remember. Every little detail of the night before was etched on his brain in sensory technicolour. There were no alcohol induced gaps in memory this time. He could still taste her. He tentatively moved a foot. And it seemed that his muscles were suffering from over exertion.
He dragged his eyes away from the slender wrist and stared at the ceiling. Of all the really stupid things he had done in his life, this had to be the most stupid. In fact, this was so stupid it was off the scale of stupidity. Why did he have to bump into her when they were both drunk and alone? Why did she have to lean against him and look at him with those big blue eyes? Why hadn't he taken her straight home? And why, sweet lord, did she have to throw herself at him like that? Was he really going to refuse her? A saint would have a hard time throwing a purring Laura Collins off his lap, and he was no saint.
Oh God, he inwardly groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. Exactly how many items on the bro code had he broken last night? Don't sleep with your best friend's sister without his permission. Check. Don't sleep with your best friend's girl. Check. Never ever sleep with the girl you have been in love with for years and then break her heart. That was an item on his own personal code and it had been there for some time. He hadn't strictly broken it yet, but he had a feeling he was about to.
No way in hell was he going to be the cause of a break up between her and Jake. Jake didn't exactly have his shit together but he was Nathan's best friend and he was a nice guy. He was loyal and true, and certainly wouldn't do something like this. Nathan, on the other hand, wasn't a nice guy. Just ask the girl who had dumped him last week. She had helpfully informed him of all his faults. Every single one of them. None of them came as a surprise. He'd heard it all before.
Part of him wished he had no memory of last night. It wasn't like it hadn't happened before after all, waking up next to a naked chick and having no memory of how he had got there, having to delve around in his hung over brain for a name and coming up with nothing, trying to get her out of his apartment without being too unpleasant. This time, however, he remembered it all and far too vividly, especially the kissing that had gone on forever, and how her hands had run all over his body and the breathy little moans she made when he had finally been inside her. Shit, he had to stop thinking about that, he was getting hard and that was not a good thing, not right now when he was resolving to never ever do this again.
One thing was for sure, she must never find out how he really felt about her.
Laura could smell him. She kept her eyes closed and breathed in the intoxicating scent of warm man. Yes, it was tinged with slightly stale alcohol and the aroma of the morning after the night before but there was also something inherently male and potent. It was different to Jake, and it was turning her on.
God, what had she done? She tentatively opened one eye and to her relief he seemed to be still asleep. He was lying on his back, the sheet pushed down to his waist and he was utterly, breathtakingly gorgeous. No one had any right to be that good-looking, and he seemed to have gotten even more handsome since the last time she had seen him in a similar state of undress, a vision of wet skin and tiny little towel that had been seared on her mind for years. His shoulders and chest were broader and his chin more thickly covered in morning stubble. Had his eyelashes always been that long? One thing was for sure, his lips had always been that full and enticing. She had fantasized about those lips for so many years and now she knew exactly how they felt against hers, and exactly how they felt trailing across her trembling skin and wetly closing over a nipple. Oh God, she had to stop thinking about that.
Nathan Cross. She was in bed with Nathan Cross. It couldn't possibly be real. And she was in his apartment. She had never been in his apartment, had never seen any of the places he had lived in the ten years she had known him. And here she was, finally in the legendary bachelor pad, and in his bed, naked with a rash from his stubble all over her chest. She groaned inwardly. She must look like road kill. Her hair was covering her face in a mass of tangles and mascara was sticking her eyelashes together. Her mouth was dessert dry and she didn't even dare think about what her breath must smell like. She opened one eye again. And there he was, with all that tan skin, looking like a Greek God. His hair was too short to be tousled. It was currently cut so close to his head it was almost a buzz cut and it suited him. She remembered what he had looked like last night when she had bumped into him in that bar, wearing an expensive suit but with that rough looking buzz cut and five o'clock shadow. She had wanted him so badly all she could do was stare at him like an idiot. And then, against all her expectations, he had taken her home and she had straddled him on his black leather sofa and that had been that. And ... she glanced at the clock on the bedside table ... six hours and a couple of orgasms later here they were. What the hell was going to happen now?