He pauses and I know he's trying to get the wording right in his head. "For being jealous."
I turn to him. "So, you admit it?"
He stares at me.
"Why would you be jealous?"
His eyes hold mine. "Because it's only a matter of time until I lose you."
"Nathe," I say softly and put my hand on his thigh. "You're never going to lose me."
He takes my hand in his and plays with my thumbnail. "Yes, I am, Lize. Let's face it," he whispers.
He's insecure. How didn't I see this before? Empathy fills me, and I smile up at my beautiful friend.
"Why would you think that?" I whisper.
"Here you go. Two margaritas." The bartender puts our drinks on the bar.
"Thank you," we say in unison.
Nathan shrugs and sips his margarita. "You keep telling me you're horny and you need sex, and once you meet someone…"
"You think I'm not going to need you if I meet someone?" I frown.
He stays silent.
"Nathan, I need you." I smile softly. "In fact, I've spent the last ten years trying to find a man who lives up to you."
His eyes hold mine. "What does that mean?"
"I don't even know."
He frowns as if wanting to say something.
"What?" I ask.
"If I wasn't… the way I am." He pauses and looks around the bar as if processing his thoughts. "Would I be the kind of man you would want?"
"You are the man I would want, Nathe," I answer honestly. "Fate hasn't been kind to me in this life."
"What do you mean?"
"I have this beautiful, smart and funny man who is so loyal and makes me so happy. But he can never give me…" My voice trails off. I smile sadly. "It doesn't matter. We are not destined to be like that. I really wish that we were."
He stares at me, his jaw clenches, and I know that deep down that he knows I'm right.
The truth sucks. Nathan and I are perfect for each other in every way.
We know that. Everyone knows that.
But I'm the wrong sex for him, and no matter how hard I try, I could never be what he needs.
"You didn't ask me how my first day was," I say.
"How was your first day?" he asks softly.
"It was pretty crappy." I smirk.
A semblance of a smile crosses his face. "Why is that?"
"Tomorrow, someone is getting their labia cut off and injected with fillers so it's plump, and I have to watch."
Nathan scrunches his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose, and I laugh out loud.
"I'm thinking of getting it, too," I add casually.
His eyes snap open. "What the hell is wrong with your vagina?"
"That's for me to know and you to never find out."
He gives me a slow smile and takes my hand in his lap. I know our fight is over.
"I'm getting all the food tonight; every single thing, including all the desserts. There won't be room in our bed for you."
"What's new," He mutters dryly as he opens the menu. "I'm used to it."
* * *
It's 11:30 p. m., and Nathan and I are walking home arm in arm. We are laughing and joking now, and our earlier fight seems like a lifetime ago. He has me in a headlock, and we are wrestling our way down the street. Those margaritas went down way too easily, and we are way too tipsy for a Monday night.
We make our way back to my apartment, and he takes a shower before I do, too.
We brush our teeth, and I braid my long dark hair. Nathan likes me putting it up or he says he wakes up in the middle of the night in some kind of Rapunzel nightmare.
When he gets into bed, he's wearing his navy blue silk boxer shorts. I take off my robe and am wearing my custom panty and matching camisole set.
I climb in beside him and wince.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"My back is tight," I stretch it to the left and right to try loosen it. "I tried to get in for a massage tomorrow night but I can't get one till Friday."
"I'll massage it for you."
"What?" I smile.
"Roll onto your stomach. I'll massage it for you." He goes up to lean on his elbow, and then falls back and chuckles. "I'm feeling so fucking drunk."
I giggle. "That makes two of us."
I roll onto my stomach, and he begins to chipper chop me at high speed. "Oww!" I cry. "What the hell is that?"
He sits up, and with two hands, he really chipper chops me with vigour.
"Ah." I laugh. "Stop it, you're making it worse."
He sits over my behind and gently begins to knead my shoulders, and I smile sleepily into the pillow. "Hmm. Now, that feels good," I whisper.
For twenty minutes, Nathan's magical hands roam up and down my back, every now and then, softly dusting the sides of my breasts.
I'm sleepy, relaxed, and I hate to admit it… aroused. I feel like I'm drifting safely, halfway between sober and drunk, Heaven and Hell.
Right and wrong.
As he pushes me into the mattress, I can feel his dick on my behind. Or maybe that's the margaritas and wishful thinking.
I get a vision of him in the nude from the other night and my insides begin to melt.
I let my mind go somewhere that it has never gone before. I let myself imagine what it would be like to have sex with Nathan Mercer.
Would he be rough? Would he be tender? I get a vision of me on top, looking down as I ride him. He would be so deep inside of me. God, he most definitely would touch every single side.
I clench in appreciation, and I feel a rush of moisture to my sex. I begin to feel my pulse there.
"Are you asleep, baby?" he whispers.
I inhale deeply, unable to answer him. It's easier to stay asleep-more restful here-and I don't want him to stop. Don't stop.
His hands are magical.
He lies down beside me and pulls my back to his front. His finger trails up and over my thigh and to my hip, slowly moving over my stomach.
His mouth is at my ear, and I can hear his breath quivering. Almost as if he is aroused, too.
What the fuck was in those drinks?
But I'm too relaxed to stop it, too relaxed to think. I just know I want this …. whatever this is…. to keep going.
"Are you asleep, baby?" he whispers.
"Hmm." With my eyes closed, I put my hand up over my shoulder, onto his cheek. "Don't stop, Nathe," I whisper.
He inhales sharply as he kisses the side of my face, and I feel his erection up against my behind.
Am I dreaming this? Am I in a hornbag, drunken stupor right now?
What's happening?
I'm too relaxed to care, and I'm completely sure that one of us should be the sober and responsible person right now and stop this idiocy.
His hand goes to my breast and he kneads it hard as he pulls me back against his body.
Fuck.
My sex begins to throb.
"Eliza," he whispers as his lips move to my neck. He kisses me, and I feel his tongue as it swipes over my skin. My sex clenches in appreciation.
His hands are roaming all over me, goosebumps trailing where his fingers go, and our bodies writhing together slowly.
I'm wet-so wet.
I feel like I'm having an out of body experience.
Everything feels magnified. Every breath that he takes, every quiver on his inhale. Every vein I think I can feel in his hard cock.
I just want to roll over, open my legs, and kiss him.