Chapter 63: Inseparable

Daphne

I hit the floor so hard I think I bounced. I lay there for a stunned moment, not quite understanding where I was or what had happened. As the fog of sleep cleared from my mind, I took into account a few essential facts. First, I was completely naked, and more than a little bit sore, in the most delicious way. Not to mention, a little bit sticky between my legs. Second, I was on the floor, while Nate was still on the bed looking both alarmed and confused. He was also gloriously naked.

“Oh, Jeezus Daphne, I’m sorry,” He groaned as he rolled into a sitting position and scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I was dreaming and… s.hit.” He stood, and quickly bent to help me up from the floor.

“It’s okay,” I said, rubbing the hip that had taken the most abuse in the fall. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

He came, and ran his hands lightly over my body. “It’s not okay. I could have hurt you.” His fingers dragged over my hip, and even though I was careful not to wince, he somehow knew it was tender. “I did hurt you.”

“I’m fine,” I pushed his hands away, not because I didn’t like it, but because I liked it too much. “It won’t even leave a bruise.” I spied my shirt and sweats on the floor and swooped down to pick them up, groaning a little as I did so. Goddess, I was aching in muscles I didn’t even know existed previous to encountering Nathan Straight. “What time is it anyway?”

He turned and crossed the short space to pick up his cellphone from the desk. “Almost noon.”

“Ugh,” I tugged the t-shirt back over my head. “I have a lecture at 1:30. And I need a shower.”

“Yeah,” He set the phone down and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he spied something on the bed and quickly moved in to grab it and toss it in the trash. I’m pretty sure it was the used condom that had gotten completely forgotten in the melee early this morning.

He found his boxers and pulled them back on, hiding his manhood from view. I sighed sadly and tore my eyes away from his body. It should be illegal for a man to look that good. I was about to cross back to my side of the room to find clean clothes, when his hand snaked out and caught mine, drawing me roughly into his body. He pressed me close, rubbing his hands down my back before they rested on my hips. “I wish I could shower with you,” he said gruffly.

“Mmhm,” I agreed. That would be sexy as hell, to be naked and wet in a small enclosed space, to have his hands slick with soap running all over my body. Oh yes.

“But, there are too many eyes in this building,” He concluded regretfully. “The last thing we need is for these horny kids to know we have something going on.” He released me and stepped back. “But one day…”

I went over and pulled out clean clothes, and held them tightly against my chest as I turned to face him once again. “Do we? Have something going on?” I asked, hating how vulnerable and uncertain I sounded.

He sat down on the side of his bed and rested his elbows on his knees, letting his head bow between his shoulders for a moment, before he looked up at me again. “I guess we do.” The words tore at me a little, because he didn’t sound too thrilled with the fact. I was reminded again that Nathan Straight didn’t want any attachments. This thing, whatever it was, was inconvenient and unwanted.

And that hurt so much that it made my wolf whine internally. It was a struggle to keep my face neutral. “Okay,” I said, and not knowing what else I could say, I turned and opened the door, and headed down the hall to the bathroom.

Sharing a bathroom and a shower with all the a total of seven guys on the second floor wasn’t exactly ideal, but I had to say, someone kept the place surprisingly clean. There were a bunch of bath products lined up on the side of the tub, a frightening assortment of toothbrushes, shaving cream, deodorant, hair product and razors on the counter by the sink, and someone’s tidy-whities were hanging on the doorknob to the linen closet. But, aside from the clutter, it was clean. I made sure to lock the door, because, obviously, house full of guys. I dropped my clothes and stepped into the shower stall, pulling the frosted glass door closed behind me. In moments billows of steam were rolling around me, and hot water was soothing my tight muscles.

I leaned my hands against the shower wall, and bowed my head so that the water could pour over my neck and shoulders. The sound of the water pinging off the tiles and the frosted glass muffled the sound around me, so I didn’t hear the door click open.

But I knew. I knew he was in the bathroom with me. The moment he entered, it was like the billowing clouds of steam became thunderheads charged with electricity. How the hell he had just walked in when I was sure that I had locked the door remained a mystery, but one I would contemplate later. When the glass door was yanked back, I could think of nothing else.

His chest was heaving, like he'd just climbed five flights of stairs, and I knew he was clinging to a shred of control. "I picked the lock," he admitted without apology.

I gasped a little as I took in the sight of him, so tall and ripped, and his desire making an obvious tent in his boxers. “I thought you were worried there were too many people in the house,” I said, wiping the spray of water out of my eyes.

The expression on his face seared into my brain like a brand. His dark eyes swirled with emotion. There was desire there, plain as day, but there were other things as well. Sadness, it seemed. Maybe even guilt. Regret? Fear? “I don’t care about them,” he growled.

And all I wanted to do was to take that sadness out of his eyes. I wanted to hold his head against my breasts and assure him that everything was going to be okay. We would figure this out. I stepped back to make room for him in silent invitation, and he accepted, dropping his boxers before he stepped under the spray. His hair resisted the water, but droplets clung to his skin, shimmering like diamonds.

There was barely room for the both of us, and Nate was so tall that he had to bow to fit fully under the shower head. But rather than feel claustrophobic and confined, I felt like I had been given a gift. I leaned closer and used my tongue to wipe the droplets of water from his pectoral muscles. His hands dove into my wet hair and pulled my head back for a kiss.

"Daphne," he groaned when he came up for air. "I can't seem to stay away from you."