Eliza
“And what are they?” I ask.
He turns to the bar as the waiter approaches. “Two top shelf margaritas, please.”
“Sure thing,” the waiter replies and gets to work making our drinks.
“What’s the change of plans, Nathan?” I repeat.
“Well…” His brow furrows as he sips his drink. “Obviously, I’m still here.”
“I can see that. Your stalking knows no bounds.”
“It’s a necessary evil.”
“Why?”
“I’m working on something that I can’t really talk about yet.” He shrugs as he looks over at my table of friends. He gives them a smile and wave. I glance over to see them all watching us. Oh jeez, we have an audience.
I turn my attention back to him. “Why not?” I ask.
“It’s a work in progress. I haven’t had enough time to carry out the ground work yet.”
“Which is?”
“To become completely irresistible to you.” He smirks against his glass, and his eyes dance with mischief. “Although, it shouldn’t be hard.”
I struggle to keep a straight face. “Oh, really?”
“Why? Don’t you find me irresistible?”
“Not in the least,” I reply, deadpan.
He gives me a slow, sexy smile, “Well, there you go. My point proven.”
That’s a lie. He is completely irresistible and then some.
Stop it.
“So, when do I get to hear about this plan?” I ask.
“After you introduce me to your friends.”
“You know you’re not actually invited tonight.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
I shrug. “No.”
He smiles softly. “Good, because I don’t want to go.”
We stare at each other, and it’s there between us, the crackle in the air. That spark of possibility. An attraction I can’t deny.
“Come on,” he says, pulling me out of my little daydream. “Let’s go meet your colleagues.”
“You’re just my friend, remember?”
“How could I fucking forget? How long for, anyway?”
“Until I say so. With your track record . . .”
“Why does it matter now?”
“Because it does, that’s why. If you think I’m trusting you not to do that again on a whim, you are sadly mistaken.” I weave through the tables, leading the way until we get to my friends. “This is Nathan,” I introduce him. “We are friends from San Fran.”
“Hello.” He smiles at everyone.
“Take a seat,” I say.
He pulls out his chair and sits opposite me. “How is everyone?” He smiles at them.
They all break into chatter with him. A new hot guy at the table seems to be very exciting.
I sip my drink as I watch him. He’s being friendly and nice, answering all their questions and trying really hard to make conversation.
So un-Nathan-Mercer-like.
“So, what do you do, Nathan?” Annie asks.
“I’m a cardiologist,” he says.
I can almost see the girls’ eyes lighting up.
“And do you have a partner Nathan?” someone asks.
“Yes, I do. A beautiful girlfriend, very much in love.” He smiles.
I watch him command the table as everyone hangs on his every word.
“How long have you been with her?”
His eyes flicker to me. “Ten years.”
My heart swells.
“Ten years?”Annie gasps. “And you haven’t married her yet?”
“Ah.” He smiles and drops his head, as if embarrassed. “We took the long way around. Maybe one day.”
His eyes come back to linger on me.
“If I can talk her into it,” he adds, we stare at each other across the table.
What am I doing?
I love him. He loves me…
But I don’t trust him, and the hurt still lingers.
I don’t want to jump back into a relationship. I can’t go through that again.
I just can’t.
But then…
“What’s your favorite hobby, Nathan?” someone else asks. This is like a really bad dating app. Who cares about his hobbies?
“Horse riding,” he answers without missing a beat.
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. He’s never been horse riding in his life.
He raises his eyebrow across the table at me, and I know he means sex.
I smile against my glass. That’s actually true. Sex is definitely his favorite hobby.
Three hours later, Nathan has talked to everyone in the club, and his friendliness is at an all-time high. I’ve never seen him trying so hard to be nice. He’s standing at the bar, ordering drinks, and I go and stand beside him. I’ve had more than enough of his top shelf margaritas, and I’m feeling very relaxed.
“So, Mr. Mercer.”
“Yes.” He gives me a slow sexy smile. “That’s my name.”
“Are you going to tell me your plan?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Well, you have to agree to it before I tell you.”
I laugh. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”
“I’m hoping so.” He takes a sip of his drink.
“Tell me the plan.”
“Well…” He inhales sharply, as if he’s steeling himself. “You only want to be friends?”
“Correct.”
“But I only want you. ”
We stare at each other as the air crackles between us.
“So… I’ve come up with a compromise, so to speak. I think this will suit us both.”
“Which is?”
“I’m really not sure how you are going to react to this, and it could completely backfire here.”
I roll my eyes. “Just spit it out.”
He hesitates for a moment. “How would you feel about being friends with benefits?”
I stare at him, dumbfounded.
“But you know it would just keep me… well, both of us, really… physically satisified while you…” He trips over his words.
“While I what?”
“Decide on our future.”
I stare at him, what in the world? This is the last thing that I was expecting him to say.
“No pressure. No expectations,” he continues. “Just living in the moment for a while.” He shrugs as if this makes complete sense.
I roll my lips to hide my smile. “So, you want to use my body as a booty-call?”
“No… I want you to use my body as a booty-call.”
“And what body part are you going to be benefiting me with?”
“Right now?”
I nod as our eyes lock.
“My tongue.
I raise my eyebrow.
“I want to lay you out, spread those pretty thighs apart and lick you up. It’s been way too long since you came on my tongue.”
I get a visual of Nathan’s head between my legs, and I get tingles down there. That’ll do it.
“Hmm, interesting concept,” I reply dryly, as I act uninterested.
He smirks. “I think so.”
“No expectations?” I raise my eyebrow.
“Not a one.”
“No promises?”
“Orgasms are the only sure thing.”
“Hmm.” My mind begins to run at a million miles per minute. This could be the perfect plan. I get to have him, but I’m not tied down if things go pear-shaped.
“What about other people?” I ask.
“What about other people?” He replies.
“Would you be sleeping with other people?”
“Well, seeing how I’ve been alone for six months and haven’t, I don’t see that happening.”
“Have you forgotten the strippers?”
“No. But I wish you would,” he mutters dryly. “Can you wipe that from your memory bank?”
“Unfortunately, not.” I sip my drink. “The other people is a deal breaker for me. I don’t want a public booty-call.”
He smiles broadly, knowing he nearly has me. “No other people.”
“Hmm.” I sip my drink as we stare at each other.
The air crackles with possibilities.
“So?” I watch on as in slow motion his tongue darts out and swipes out over his bottom lip. My sex clenches as I imagine it licking my most sensitive parts.
“What do you say?” he prompts me.
“I suppose you can have a trial.”
“A trial?” he asks in surprise. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“I mean, if I’m offering a booty-call position, you can try out for it. No promises, though.”
“You’re wrong. There is one promise.” He steps forward, and he drops his lips to my ear. His breath dusts my skin. Goosebumps scatter up my back at his close proximity. His hand drops to my waist, and he squeezes me hard. “I promise to fuck you so damn good, baby, you won’t be walking for a week.”
Play it cool.