Page 42 of The Perfect Heart

Had I really just invited him inside? And this time, it wasn’t to watch a movie.

I almost clapped a hand over my mouth, except I wasn’t sorry I had asked, just surprised. The more I thought about it, the more I knew inviting Nash in—and all that entailed—was precisely what I wanted. My entire body was screaming with desire, with need so potent the ride home had been a mix of discomfort and craving that had me clenching my hands in my lap for a different reason than on the ride over.

A very different reason.

The night had started with excitement, anticipation, and a bit of anxiety. Nash and I were stepping into entirely new territory, and neither knew what might happen. Would it be awkward? Fun? Silent? But the reality had blown away any anxiety and blown past my expectations. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun. For once, I felt like myself. Like my old self, rather.

We had talked and laughed like the old friends we were, finally hitting our stride and slipping back into the comfort and familiarity we had been trying to find for weeks. But then it had become something more. Nash’s hand had brushed mine, and I’d felt sparks. He had leaned in behind me, reaching for his mallet at the air hockey table, admittedly not the most romantic circumstance, and the feel of him against me, enveloping me, had sent a shiver through me I’d suppressed only by biting the inside of my cheek. Then his hand had brushed my thigh when we’d gotten back into the truck and I’d slid over toward him. That time, I hadn’t been able to suppress the shiver.

Now desire pulsed through me, tightening my stomach and my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I had never wanted anyone as much as I wanted Nash at that moment. And I think Nash felt the same way because he was staring at my mouth again, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly. And he had kissed me after all. A kiss that had left me entirely breathless.

Still, he hesitated, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side as his eyes rose to meet mine. “Do you want me to?” he asked, his voice strained, husky.

“Yes.” The answer came immediately, without thought.

Yes! My body echoed, and my heart began to pound in my chest, anticipating buzzing through my veins.

Nash didn’t waste any more time—he took my hand, winding his fingers through mine to lead me into the apartment, shutting and bolting the door after us. For once, I didn’t even notice the shabby furnishings, the fact that the thermostat arm had fallen again, and the musty smell I couldn’t get rid of.

All my attention was on Nash, the way his black wool coat outlined his broad shoulders, the strength and warmth of his touch, the way desire electrified the crystal blue of his eyes.

His hand was still around mine, and electricity sparking between us, he pulled me into him, his mouth on mine once more. The electricity ran from my lips, sizzling through me, until it felt like it was shooting out of my fingertips and then traveling lower to swirl in my chest and stomach.

Then lower.

Nash’s tongue once again slipped into my mouth, and then we were devouring each other, exploring, stroking, grasping, my arms winding around his neck until I couldn’t draw him any closer.

“Fuck, I want you, Halle,” Nash groaned, his kisses trailing across my cheek, my jaw until I tipped my head to give him better access to the space behind my ear that drove me wild.

“I can feel that,” I giggled, heady with the desire crackling around me like summer lightning.

“Smartass,” he grumbled, but I could feel his smile against my skin even as his hand slipped over my ass and squeezed.

It wasn’t long before his hand found the zipper of my dress, and I stepped out of my shoes and kicked them away just as the fabric slithered over my curves and down, leaving me in only my lacy bra and underwear.

Nash sucked in a breath, his pupils dilating as he stared down at me. When I had imagined this moment, wondering if it would happen, half hoping, half scared, I had thought I would feel awkward in this moment. But the longing and appreciation I saw in Nash’s eyes, the way his mouth curved into a smile, the fact that I felt entirely comfortable with him in a way I didn’t feel comfortable with anyone else, erased any embarrassment.

He retook my hand, led me over to the bed, and we settled on it, side by side. But Nash didn’t kiss me. Instead, he stroked my cheek, tucking my hair behind my ear as he stared into my face.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “I am, but I’m not going to push you. I would never do that—I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I’m sure.” The words had been on my tongue even before his had stopped. I took his hands and squeezed them in my own. “I promise, I’m sure. I want this. I want you.”

Nash hesitated for a moment more, then he smiled. “Lay back,” he said.

I did as he said, resting back on my elbows so I could still see as he stood, discarding his coat and shoes before he worked at the buttons of his shirt, then the fly of his slacks.

For a moment, I froze, the thought bouncing around my head that I was about to have sex with my best friend, the awkward kid with curly hair from high school. The one I had gone nearly-skinny-dipping with, lain with on the grass looking up at the summer stars as we talked about the future, and gone skating with, laughing until we were dizzy with it and our cheeks hurt.

But as Nash slid off his shirt, my breath caught, heat rising from my core. From the rolling muscles of his shoulders and biceps to the planes, dips, and valleys of his chest and stomach, to the v of his hips that led down to the same spot as that line of dark hair just below the tenting underwear, it was very clear a man stood before me, and not a boy.

I lay back on the bed as Nash climbed on, the old mattress creaking as he shifted until he was lying half over me, propped up on one elbow, his other hand braced beside my arm. His gaze was as intense as I had ever seen it, the crystal blue burning with desire.

Desire for me.

Desire I could feel straining against my thigh as he pressed the length of himself against me, shoulder to feet.