Page 30 of The Hookup Situation (Billionaire Situation #5)
JULIE
S unlight streams through my bedroom window as my eyes flutter open. Last night was like a fever dream. Between the party, Harper’s prophecy, meeting his family, the frustration of being interrupted twice, and then the FaceTime call. Oh God.
I feel my cheeks heat just thinking about it. I don’t know this adventurous woman I am when I’m with him, but that was the point of my list.
My phone dings on the nightstand, and I see it’s just past ten in the morning. I bolt out of bed, realizing I haven’t slept this late in years.
Nick
Morning, beautiful. Still on for apple picking?
Julie
Yes. What time?
Nick
When you’re ready. Patterson’s still passed out. Going to leave him here with a note, telling him to fuck off. And the code.
I laugh, already climbing out of bed.
Julie
Poor Patterson.
Nick
Poor Patterson, nothing. His timing is absolute shit. Be there in 30?
Julie
Make it 45. I need coffee and a shower.
Nick
Take your time. See you soon!
Julie
Perfect.
I shower, my mind drifting to his hands, his voice telling me exactly what to do last night. It’s only been six days since we started this fake-dating thing. Six days. That’s nothing. So, why does it feel like so much more?
It’s because this invisible string has kept us tethered together for a year.
When Nick arrives, his hair is a mess, like he just ran his fingers through it. My eyes slide down his white button-up and dark slacks. Somehow, he’s sophisticatedly casual.
“Hi,” I say, suddenly shy.
“Hi, yourself.” He steps inside and gently pulls me against him. “I need to kiss you.”
“Please,” I whisper.
His mouth captures mine, and I lose track of reality. Our tongues slide together, and I’m tempted to pull him to the couch with me. Before I gain the courage, he pulls away. We’re both breathing too hard, and we’re too heated.
“Ready?” he asks.
“After that? I don’t ever want to leave.”
“Well, I kinda rented the orchard for us.”
My eyes widen. “The entire thing? ”
“Yeah,” he admits. “I wanted it to be private. I don’t want wandering eyes.”
I can’t help but smile. “I can’t believe this. You just asked them how much they’d take?”
“I asked them how much they made per day, and I told them I’d triple it if they gave us the afternoon.”
I’m shocked.
He shakes his head. “You’re so damn cute.”
The drive to Coleman’s Orchard is filled with comfortable silence, his hand on my thigh the entire time.
Mrs. Coleman greets us at the entrance with a knowing smile.
“I was wondering if you were bluffing,” she tells Nick. “Nice to see you, Julie.”
“Hi, Mrs. Coleman. This is my boyfriend, Nick,” I say, sitting forward to chat with her.
The entire Coleman family moved to Colorado from Oklahoma several decades ago and started this farm. It’s been here my whole life.
“Nice to meet you,” he says, and it amazes me how damn charming he is without even trying.
She notices me staring at him.
“Well, you two go ahead and drive through. Going to lock the gate behind you. The Honeycrisp apples are perfect right now. Back section, row fifteen. Very private with lots of shade.” She winks.
I’m mortified, but Nick grins, taking the gathering baskets she offers us.
After we park, he grabs the picnic basket from the back before reaching for my hand.
We wander deep into the orchard, the mid-morning sun filtering through leaves that are starting to turn gold.
When I look over at him, I capture the moment in my memory.
I want to remember how he smiles at me and how our fingers brush together as we walk.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about a man before.
The thought should scare me, but when he looks at me like this, I’m like a moth to a flame. At least the end will be beautiful.
Row fifteen is completely secluded, surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers.
He lays out the checkered blanket and places the picnic basket on top to keep it from blowing away in the cool breeze.
We take our time picking apples, filling our wicker baskets while stealing glances and touches. The tension between us builds with every accidental brush of fingers, every moment our eyes meet.
“Have you ever done this before?” I ask as he lifts me up to reach one.
“Nope,” he admits. “It’s a first.”
I smile. “I like knowing there are still things reserved for us.”
He chuckles. “Oh, I’ve had many firsts with you, sweetheart.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Well, for starters, I’ve never ordered or drank a pumpkin spice latte until yours.”
I gasp. “No way.”
“Swear,” he says. “I don’t particularly care for bougie drinks. But if you make it, I’m drinking it.”
That shouldn’t mean that much to me, but it does.
“What else?”
“I’ve never done yoga in my life.”
This makes me giggle.
Once our baskets are full, we make our way back to the blanket in the shade between two overhanging trees. Sunlight reflects through the branches.
We settle beside one another, and Nick unpacks the lunch he brought. He made fancy sandwiches, and he also has several containers of cut strawberries and grapes, several different cheeses, and a bottle of apple cider from the orchard.
I snag a grape and pop it in my mouth as he hands me a clear plastic cup of cider .
The sweetness dances on my tongue.
“You thought of everything,” I say, watching him arrange the food between us.
“I wanted today to be perfect.” He pours himself some cider. “No interruptions, no onlookers, no cosmic interference. Just us.”
We eat, talking about everything and nothing.
He tells me about morning practices on frozen rinks and about the adrenaline of playoff games, and I realize how much he misses playing.
I tell him about early mornings at the coffee shop, about the comfort of routine, and my fear of being stuck in life.
“Can I tell you something?” he asks.
“Of course,” I say as we pick up the food, putting it away.
“When I saw you that night at Bookers, something in me recognized you. Like my soul was saying, Oh, there you are . I tried to ignore it, tried to forget when I left. But then January happened, and now …” He trails off.
My heart races.
“I’m not asking you to say anything back,” he says quickly. “We have weeks to figure this out. Our deadline still exists. I just need you to know this isn’t new. It seems like it’s happening fast, but I think it’s been a long time coming.”
I move closer to him. “I get that. I felt it too.”
“Yeah?”
Instead of answering, I kiss him. What starts timid turns desperate. His hands tangle in my hair as I shift to straddle his lap.
“Jules,” he breathes against my mouth.
“I need you,” I whisper. “Please. I can’t wait anymore.”
“Here?” But his hands are already under my sweater, finding bare skin.
“Here. Now.” I’m practically begging, grinding against him. “No more interruptions. No more waiting.”
He groans, flipping us so I’m on my back on the blanket. The sun filters through the apple trees above us as he pulls my sweater off, then his shirt .
“You’re so beautiful.” His mouth finds my neck. “So perfect.”
We’re frantic, desperate. The foreplay made us animalistic. When he reaches for his pocket, he freezes.
“I didn’t plan for this,” he admits.
“I don’t care,” I gasp, pulling him back down. “I’m on birth control. I haven’t been with anyone since Craig over a year ago.”
“I haven’t been with anyone since I met you.” He searches my face.
“Really?” I ask, almost shocked.
“Yes,” he breathes, capturing my mouth again.
His hands are everywhere, desperate and as greedy as his mouth. We undress each other with shaking fingers, clothes scattered across the blanket. When he sees me fully naked in the sunlight, he pauses.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, and his eyes flash with need.
He lays me down on my back, and the blanket underneath me is rough against my bare ass. As he kisses up my neck, the cool autumn air nips at my flushed skin.
As he pulls away, positioning himself between my thighs, I lift myself upright onto my elbows. His thick cock is hard and leaking pre-cum, glistening in the sunlight. I can smell him, and I want to taste him. It’s a heady mixture of masculine and expensive cologne.
When he looks at me like I’m everything he’s ever wanted, it makes my cunt pulse with need.
I reach for him, pulling him down to me.
He kisses me deeply as he settles at my entrance, still not giving me what I want. There is nothing else in the entire world that matters right now. I breathe out, anticipating him, needing him with my legs spread wide. He grins against my lips.
“You’re so wet for me.” He growls.
His fingers trail over my slit, teasing me, spreading my folds. I gasp as he circles my clit, sending electric jolts through my body.
“You want this cock, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I moan, my voice full of need. “Give yourself to me, Nick. ”
He slides a finger inside me, curling it just right, hitting that sweet spot that makes me arch off the blanket. My cunt clenches around him, greedy for more.
“Not yet,” he whispers, his breath hot against my neck. “I’m gonna make you beg first.”
He adds another finger, thrusting them in and out of me, his pace quickening. I can feel the pressure building, my pussy getting tighter, wetter. His thumb rubs circles on my clit, and I’m panting, my hips bucking against his hand.
“I’m gonna?—”
He slowly pulls his fingers out, leaving me aching.
He repositions himself between my legs, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance. Nick leans down, his lips brushing against mine.
“Nicolas Banks, fuck me,” I state, my hands clawing at his back.
He thrusts into me hard, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke. I cry out, the fullness overwhelming. He pauses, letting me adjust, his breath warm against my skin.
“You’re tight.” He groans, his voice strained.
“You’re too big,” I muster. “I feel like you’re breaking me in two.”
“We’ll go slow. I’ll let you get used to me carving my path. It will never be like this with anyone else,” he tells me.