Chapter 48 Chloe Takes the Initiative
Nathan glanced down at the woman standing beside him on the bridge. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and her brow was slightly furrowed, as if she were deeply concentrated on a religious ritual. "What exactly are you doing?" he asked, a faint amusement breaking through his heavy grief.
"I'm saying hello to Patricia!" Chloe replied, opening her eyes with a bright, entirely unabashed smile. "Patricia just told me she really likes you, and she specifically ordered me to take excellent care of you from now on."
Nathan let out a quiet, genuine laugh, shaking his head. "You are completely making that up."
"I am not! It's true!" Chloe insisted, tilting her head and pretending to listen to the freezing wind. "If you don't believe me, listen carefully. She's yelling at you."
"Alright, that's enough. It's time to go back," Nathan said, turning to lead her away from the railing before he completely lost his composure.
She happily trailed behind him all the way back to the hotel. They rode the elevator up to their floor in silence, walking together down the carpeted hallway until they reached his room.
Nathan swiped his keycard. The heavy door clicked open.
Before he could even push it wide, Chloe seamlessly squeezed through the gap, practically sliding under his arm to enter his room.
Nathan froze in the doorway, making a half-hearted, entirely ineffective blocking gesture. "Aren't you going back to your own room?"
"In a minute," Chloe declared, deftly dropping her purse onto the luggage rack. "I just need you to help me figure out some features on my new phone first. Teach me again, okay?"
"Chloe..." Nathan warned, his voice dropping into a low, cautious register. He stood in the doorway, stubbornly keeping the door propped wide open to the hallway. "What's wrong with the phone? Let me see it."
Chloe hid the device behind her back, crossing her arms and tilting her chin defiantly toward the door. "Why didn't you close it?"
Nathan glanced at her, then stared rigidly out into the empty hallway. "We just got back. The room feels stuffy. I needed some air."
Chloe chuckled softly, a deeply wicked sound. "Oh, come on. You are terrified of me. Close the door, Professor. I promise I won't hurt you."
Nathan’s jaw tightened. He pursed his lips uncomfortably, took a slow, deliberate step backward into the room, and let the heavy door click completely shut.
The standard hotel room was incredibly small, barely a hundred square feet. The massive king-sized bed dominated the space, leaving only a narrow walkway just wide enough for two people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder.
By the window sat a small desk and an upholstered armchair. Chloe hopped over in three quick strides, claimed the chair, kicked off her shoes, and curled her legs underneath her. She pulled out her phone, aggressively swiping the screen while covertly tracking Nathan's every movement through her lashes.
He stood frozen by the door for a long, agonizing moment. He took two steps forward, paused, and then immediately retreated to stand diagonally across the room, putting maximum distance between them. "What specific feature are you struggling with?" he asked, his tone strictly professional.
"When I try to watch my shows, this stupid message pops up asking me to upgrade my membership. It interrupts every five minutes. It’s incredibly annoying," Chloe complained, waving the illuminated screen at him.
"I already have a premium membership. Use my account." Nathan crossed the room, keeping a careful distance as he took the phone from her hand. He quickly typed his credentials into the streaming app, his long fingers flying over the glass.
"If I use your account, will it kick you off when you want to watch something?" she asked, watching the tense line of his throat.
"No. One premium account can stream on multiple devices simultaneously," Nathan answered, stepping back to hand the phone over.
The physical distance between their outstretched hands was just an inch too far to bridge. Chloe deliberately kept her arm pulled back, holding her hand out lazily, her posture screaming: If you don't come closer to hand it to me, I'm not taking it.
Nathan stared at her hand. He swallowed hard. He took two slow, reluctant steps forward, leaning down to place the device into her palm.
Got him.
The absolute second he was within striking distance, Chloe violently lunged.
Her free hand shot out, grabbing his wrist with terrifying speed, and she yanked him forcefully downward.
Caught completely off guard, Nathan stumbled forward. To avoid crushing her with his massive frame, he desperately threw his free hand out, bracing his weight heavily against the armrest of the chair.
Just as he opened his mouth to demand what the hell she was doing, Chloe’s other hand shot up, tangling fiercely into the hair at the back of his neck. She tilted her chin up, pulled him down, and violently crashed her lips against his.
Nathan’s eyes blew wide open in sheer, unadulterated shock.
An intoxicating, entirely unfamiliar scent immediately flooded his senses—a faint, incredibly sweet trace of fruit.
Her soft lips pressed desperately against his, hot and urgent, parting slightly as she aggressively sought his response.
But Nathan was entirely paralyzed.
He hadn't been this physically intimate with another human being in twenty-three years. His brain completely short-circuited. He had absolutely no idea what to do—where to put his hands, whether to violently shove her away, or whether to completely surrender and devour her.
All he could feel was his damaged heart suddenly pounding so violently against his ribs it physically hurt. The rushing blood roared in his ears like a freight train.
When she shifted, pressing her soft curves flush against his rigid chest, burrowing deeper into his space, every single nerve ending in his body began to violently tremble.
Chloe kissed him fiercely, tracing his lips, but she could feel that his entire massive body was locked tighter than a vault. He was offering zero response.
She cracked her eyes open slightly. He wasn't kissing her back, but his hands were gripping the armrests so hard his knuckles were white. He wasn't pushing her away, either.
Might as well escalate, Chloe thought, a thrill shooting straight to her core.
She released his wrist, letting her hand drop to boldly explore his chest, sliding over the hard muscle beneath his shirt.
This level of aggression wasn't a barrier to her. In her timeline, she was still a deeply satisfied newlywed. Before the accident, they had been at the absolute peak of their physical obsession, tearing each other apart multiple times a night. She was incredibly well-practiced at dismantling his self-control.
She suddenly remembered their very first trip together in college. Nathan had been agonizingly passive back then, too, purposefully booking a room with two separate double beds to prove he was a "gentleman."
That night, she had waited until the room was completely dark, listening to the agonizingly steady rhythm of his breathing from the bed across the room. The absolute silence had driven her insane.
After what felt like hours, she had finally thrown off her covers. Barefoot, she had padded silently across the cold floor and stood over his bed.
His silhouette had looked incredibly peaceful in the dim moonlight.
She had gently lifted the edge of his heavy duvet. A rush of intoxicating body heat, carrying the sharp, clean scent of his soap, had washed over her.
He hadn't stirred.
Chloe had bitten her lip, steeled her courage, and completely slid under his covers.
As she settled in, her soft thigh had inevitably brushed against his lower half. Nathan had murmured something indistinct, but he hadn't opened his eyes.
Sweat had beaded on Chloe’s palms. She tentatively placed her hand on his waist, feeling the blistering heat of his firm muscles through his thin cotton nightshirt. She leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to his sharp jawline, and then dragged her lips down to his Adam's apple.
Her movements had been incredibly tentative, terrified of his rejection.
Suddenly, Nathan’s breathing had fundamentally changed. It deepened, becoming heavy and dangerously deliberate.
Chloe’s courage had instantly spiked. She slid her hand lower, tracing the hard line of his waist, her fingertips daringly brushing the elastic waistband of his pajama bottoms.
Just as she began to slip her fingers beneath the fabric, a massive, unyielding hand had violently seized her wrist like a vice.
Nathan’s eyes had snapped open in the pitch black. They were entirely alert, burning with a dark, predatory heat. There was absolutely zero trace of sleep in them.
"Chloe," he had murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated straight through her spine. There was no surprise in his tone. He had been awake the entire time.
Chloe had frozen, her face flushing violently. She was completely caught, at a total loss for words.
Without waiting for her pathetic excuse, the hand gripping her wrist forcefully yanked her forward, pinning her flush against his chest. His other hand came up, his long fingers burying into her hair as his thumb roughly traced her trembling bottom lip.
"What exactly were you trying to do?" he had demanded, his tone so incredibly dark and commanding it made her pulse skyrocket.
She had been momentarily stunned. She had expected him to panic, to lecture her, to push her away. She hadn't expected this lethal, expectant stillness.
Suddenly feeling fiercely defiant, she violently twisted her wrist out of his grip. This time, it wasn't a tentative test. It was deliberate warfare. Her hand darted straight past his waistband, closing firmly around his heavy arousal.
Nathan’s breath had caught sharply. His entire body went rigidly tense beneath her.
But he didn't stop her. In the dark, his eyes had locked onto her blurred outline, completely burning her alive.
Guided entirely by feral instinct, Chloe had lowered her head, beginning to clumsily pleasure him. Her technique had been entirely inexperienced, but the explosive combination of her raw desperation and sheer audacity created a friction Nathan had never survived before. A guttural, ragged groan had torn out of his throat as his fingers violently tightened in her hair.
Just as Chloe thought she had completely conquered him, Nathan suddenly snapped.
He moved with terrifying, lethal speed. Before she could even process the shift, a violent, effortless twist of his hips had completely reversed their positions, pinning her flat to the mattress.