Page 26

“Excuse me,” a masculine voice cuts in. One I’d recognize anywhere. It’s deep and throaty, and I have no doubt I’ll be fantasizing about it for months after I leave London.
I glance over and find none other than Nate standing in front of John and me, dressed sharply in a black suit. His hair is styled, and he’s trimmed his beard. He looks like sex on a stick.
“Who are you?” John asks, not even attempting to hide his jealousy.
“Paige’s date,” Nate states without sparing John another glance. “You look devastatingly gorgeous,” he tells me, his eyes staying trained on mine. “May I have this dance?”
“It’s for the bridal party,” John spits out.
“I’d love to,” I say to Nate, backing out of John’s hold and going straight into Nate’s arms.
He gives me a soft smile, wraps his arms around me, and glides us away from John, leaving him standing there, looking dumbstruck.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper as we slow dance.
“I heard you needed a date,” is all Nate says beforehe leans down and kisses each of my cheeks, where my traitorous tears were still lingering.
I should probably push him away and tell him this can’t be happening because spending more time with him will only hurt more when I have to leave, but the fact that he showed up without me asking has my heart swelling inside my chest.
So, instead of arguing, I place my head against his shoulder, inhaling his warm and sensual scent, and murmur, “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he says, tightening his hold on me. “And I wasn’t kidding when I said you look gorgeous. The way this dress accentuates your curves…” He glides his hands down to my ass and gives it a squeeze. “I’m tempted to find the closest restroom and fuck you against the wall.”
His words go straight to my lady parts as I imagine him doing just that, and I glance around the room, wondering if I can spot a restroom.
Instead of finding one though, my gaze lands on John and Phoebe sitting at the table. John is glaring daggers my way, and Phoebe is looking from John to me with hurt etched in her features.
“Ignore him,” Nate says. “He fucked up, and now, he’s regretting it.”
“But why?” I ask, confused. “He did this. He wanted her. Hechoseher.”
“Because”—Nate palms the side of my face, tilting it up so I’m looking at him—“you’renot the kind of woman men get over. Your smile, your laughter, your sexy body…everything about you is addictive. That asshole left and found a warm body to try to fill in your absence. But now that you’re here, he’s wishing he hadn’t fucked up.”
Nate leans in closer and presses an open-mouthed kiss on the sensitive part of my neck. “He’s watching us,” he whispers as he trails kisses along my jawline. “Wishing he hadn’t done what he did.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “Because that woman sitting next to him is nothing more than a cheap knockoff. She’ll never be you, and he knows that.”
Nate runs his tongue along my bottom lip and then the top, and I groan into his mouth, wanting more than he can give me on this dance floor.
“Let’s get out of here,” I murmur against his mouth.
Not needing to be told twice, Nate guides me off the dance floor and toward the doors. But instead of exiting, he veers to the right, straight for the restrooms.
He pulls me inside, locks the door, and then lifts me up, setting me on the edge of the counter.
Normally, I wouldn’t be down for a restroom fuck, but this one is luxurious, marble sinks and floor and walls. It smells like a mixture of cleanliness and baby powder, and the thought of fucking Nate in here while everyone is right outside the door has me squirming in my spot.
Nate doesn’t waste any time gripping the silky material and lifting it up to my hips, exposing mypanties.
“Fuck, I should’ve brought you back to your room,” he mutters. “The things I want to do to you…”
He shakes his head as he reaches behind me, delves his fingers into my hair, and pulls me in for a hard kiss that warms my insides.
As his skilled mouth ravages mine, I have no doubt that I could kiss this man every day for the rest of my life, and it wouldn’t be enough.
The chemistry between us heats as I reach down and unbutton Nate’s pants, taking his dick out and stroking it while he pushes two fingers into me.
“Fuck me,” I groan, needing to feel him inside me.
There’s no reason for foreplay. We’re both turned on and ready.