Blindsided Read online

  “What happened right before you stopped?” he asked, biting back an order that she take better care of her car, of herself.

  Chancing a look at her, Nate immediately wished he hadn’t. She was biting on the side of her fingernail, and the sight of her sucking on something got him all stirred up again. He stifled a groan.

  “You shouldn’t bite your fingernails.” His voice was gruff, and he could only hope it came across as stern, rather than wanting.

  Looking like a chastised child, she immediately took her finger away from her mouth. He grinned at the cute look on her face.

  She took one last look at her nail, then tucked her hands into her back pockets to keep them out of sight. Which shoved her beautiful breasts up and towards him. Nate muttered under his breath and looked back at the engine. Focus on the engine.

  “It was making some sort of knocking noise,” Chelsea said, and Nate was confused for a second before he remembered his question. Focus, right.

  “Was it smoking, or just making the noise?” Nate asked.

  Smoke, knocking, that should take his mind off the erection growing in his pants. It didn’t work, and Nate tried to angle his body away from her. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to sleep with him, and he didn’t want her to see his biological reaction to being near her soft, warm body. He’d keep from backing her up against the car and molding her to him if it killed him. But he had the taste of her in his mouth, and he couldn’t get his mind off it.

  ###

  Chelsea relayed the information about Bunny without looking at Nate, avoiding that dangerous eye contact they’d made earlier. Better to stare at the confusing array of tubes and metal that made up Bunny’s engine. Nate looked dutifully, poking at things, lifting up hoses to see under them. Chelsea had no idea what he was doing.

  After a thorough inspection of the topside, Nate ran into the house and returned a moment later with an old, dirty towel. He spread it out on the ground, then lay down on his back and slid under the car. Chelsea’s heart seized for a moment. Maybe he was right. Maybe he wasn’t like all those other boys with their bikes and their egos. He was doing something for her, not the other way around. He was flat on his back, messing around with something under Bunny and they hadn’t even slept together.

  In fact, she had insulted him, had got crazy and emotional and yet, here he was. Fixing her car. Her preconceptions faltered, but only for a moment. Better to not think about it, she told herself. It always starts like this, remember? They’re nice, sweet, then they pull a switcheroo and their horns come out. Better to walk away now.

  Still, as she looked at his jean-covered thighs, she couldn’t help but wish that they agreed on one night stands. It would be so nice to let him ease those slim hips between her thighs and let that hardness she had felt earlier slide inside… Okay, enough, Chelsea thought. She could feel her cheeks turning rosy as she her fantasy encounter with Nate continued unbidden in her mind’s eye. Shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath, Chelsea tried to maintain control.

  When she opened her eyes, she jumped to find Nate on his feet, his blue eyes staring down at her. Her heart did a little flip and she swallowed hard. Here it was, that awful connection she felt with him, zapping back and forth between their eyes, making her insides feel warm.

  “Do you know what’s wrong with it?” she asked, not wanting to let the moment go on any longer than it already had.

  “Almost everything,” he said. She started to jump to Bunny’s defense when he continued, “But the reason you broke down is a blown head gasket. I can fix it, but you need a new one. I have a buddy with a part store. I’ll call and find out if he has one.”

  “Okay,” she said, too tired and fascinated by Nate to argue.

  He stared at her for another moment, that terrible flash happening again before his eyes slid away and his expression turned unreadable.

  ###

  He would be at the point of no return once he talked to Chelsea and he’d have to deal with the consequences. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he was willing to compromise for this woman he’d just met, but there it was. His dick seemed to be hell bent on reasserting some of the control it had known at an earlier time in his life. What a great time for it to spring back to life.

  While underneath the rat trap named Bunny, looking at all her other problems, Nate had formed a plan. It wasn’t a good plan. It was ridiculous. He didn’t care. He was desperate to feel Chelsea’s skin, to run his hands over her body. Skin on skin, hers creamy white, his colorful. If the thought of touching her was so enthralling, what would the real thing be like?

  Matt had the replacement gasket Bunny needed, but Nate wasn’t going to tell Chelsea that. He was willing to tell a little white lie. If that was enough to consign him into the bad boy pile, so be it. She already had him stashed in that group anyway.

  Nate found Chelsea in his living room, sitting on his couch, smoking one of his cigarettes and reading the book he had been slogging through earlier that morning. Her long legs were tucked up under her and she played with her long hair, winding one red lock around her little finger. While he watched, she yawned like a cat, her mouth opening wide, back arching. She saw him and smiled.

  “I love this book,” she said holding up Anna Karenina.

  That stopped him.

  “You do?” he asked incredulously, “I read it every morning, hoping my coffee will get me through a chapter. It never does.”

  “Yeah, I read it for the first time in high school and a few times since then. I have a lot of time to read on planes.”

  “I’m reading a lot of those classics for the first time,” Nate said as he crossed the room and sat next to her.

  He felt drawn to her, as if an invisible filament ran between them and she was constantly tightening it, pulling him to her side. He kept closing the distance between them until he was nearly touching her knee with his thigh.

  “There are gaps in my education,” he said with a grin he knew had the effect of making women forget what they were thinking. It was great camouflage.

  The grin had the desired effect and Nate felt smug as Chelsea’s cheeks turned pink and she looked down at the book. She ran her fingers over the cover and cleared her throat, her desire for him rolling off of her. Which was great, except that her obvious arousal had the effect of heightening his own already powerful lust.

  “You’re reading the unabridged edition,” she said finally.

  She had pulled herself together somewhat and was staunchly refusing to look at him. She appeared to be looking at him, but she was actually looking at the wall behind him. It wasn’t every day that a woman was so attracted to him that she couldn’t look directly at him. It was like being the sun.

  “Yeah, is that bad?” Nate asked. He thought that was the point. To read this stuff in their original form. Dickens he had liked. He could relate to kids growing up poor and on the street regardless of the era. Shakespeare was okay once he had gotten the hang of it. If he had known how raunchy some of the stuff was, he may have been more interested when he was in school. No, probably not.

  “Well, it’s got all the stuff about farming and social structure in it,” she said. She finally looked up at him, and her green eyes sparkled with humor. “Whenever Levin starts rambling about things, that’s Tolstoy spouting off. Writing a novel was less controversial than writing any sort of political manifesto, so he weaves social commentary into the plot. The abridged version cuts that out, and you’re just left with the two love stories.”

  Shit, Nate thought, he was so screwed. He had no idea how many women he’d dated, but none of them had known the secret of making Russian literature tolerable. Getting inside her would get rid of his physical needs, but he didn’t know how to get rid of his desire to know her. How could he ease that need? Tie her up and make her tell him her life story? Not a good idea.

  “How do you know all this?” he asked.

  “I was a Lit major before I dropped out of
college,” she said.

  That surprised him. Women like Chelsea didn’t drop out of school. They got advanced degrees and sneered at the undereducated masses. He was about to ask why she had dropped out when he looked at her face. All the openness he so enjoyed watching was gone. Her face was shuttered, closed. He shut his mouth. If he didn’t want to talk about his past, he couldn’t force her to.

  “My buddy won’t be able to get the part until tomorrow afternoon,” Nate said, hoping his face wasn’t as open as hers.

  Chelsea’s face fell, but at least it had opened up again, “Oh. Um, okay.”

  She was floundering and he could see she had no idea what to do with this information. He knew what they could do to pass the time though, was looking forward to it more than he wanted to admit. What a plan this was. If it worked, it could result in two happy, satisfied people and a VW Rabbit that could limp along until he could rip out the engine and start from scratch. Nate quickly forced his mind away from that subject. It was just a bit too, well, forward thinking. Better to think about the sex instead.

  “I had an idea,” Nate said finally. He picked up her hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb. Her hand was so little in his and he felt a rush of ferocious protectiveness for her. Surprise registered on her face, and she looked down at their touching hands. Nate made a deal with himself: if she pulled away, he wouldn’t mention his cockamamie plan. If she didn’t, he would.

  “Okay,” she said as she turned to face him. Her hand stayed his.

  Chapter 4

  “You couldn’t have just changed your mind like that. What are you getting out of it?” Chelsea asked.

  Her voice rose to a pitch so high it could only mean panic. She couldn’t help it. After Nate’s announcement that they would not be getting down and dirty, she had tried valiantly to put it out of her mind. Not only that, but after some effort she had convinced herself that it was really for the best. No sex, a fixed car and she would be off and forgetting about him. Once out of the range of his testosterone and scent, she should be fine. Now he’d blown her carefully constructed rationalizations all to hell. Reopening that door was a form of torture and she was sure there was a catch.

  Nate shot her another one of those soul-searing grins and squeezed her hand. His hand was hot and strong, sinewy and masculine. He held hers gently and heaven help her, she loved it. She should just pull her hand away, but no part of her body was listening to her commands anymore.

  “I didn’t change my mind, not completely,” Nate continued.

  He had laid out some bizarre plan for her, some attempt to weaken her will further. They could have a one night stand. That was his offer so far. He hadn’t gotten to the catch yet, but Chelsea felt as if her mental division was so deep it had seeped into her physical body. Getting what she wanted meant hurting Nate, and as much as she hated to admit it, hurting him wasn’t something she wanted to do. He had his reasons for not wanting one night stands. She wasn’t sure what they were, but you didn’t just make a hard and fast rule like that without reason.

  “So, what’s the catch?” Chelsea asked with a sigh.

  Sitting with Nate on the couch was like sitting next to the heating grate in a cold house. He exuded warmth and Chelsea’s skin was on fire, just from the small amount of contact they had. Maybe I shouldn’t do this at all, she thought. He might be too much for me to handle.

  “The catch isn’t really a catch. It’s more of a challenge,” Nate said.

  Chelsea raised an eyebrow but couldn’t manage to get any words out. She was still feeling a little shell shocked. Nate hadn’t given her a chance to breath, to get her feet under her. He read Tolstoy, gardened and came up with crazy plans that made her heart thump. Everything about him was a surprise.

  “We spend one night together, and tomorrow morning, you can walk away if you want. If you decide not to walk away, you have to date me. Like in high school. And we don’t have sex again for a week. Silly, I know. But it’s the best I could come up with. I’m not thinking very well at the moment,” he added with a sheepish grin. She could relate to that.

  Nate’s attitude was casual but his hand was tense. She thought about his offer, but she couldn’t see how this was a compromise of any sort. He was giving her what she wanted, with a clause tacked onto the end to make him feel better. As if she could spend a week seeing him and not have her hands all over him.

  “I still don’t understand,” Chelsea said after a moment.

  She couldn’t look at him. Her decision was a foregone conclusion. He’d offered her a chance. She was going to take it.

  “What don’t you understand?” Nate asked.

  “You don’t have one night stands, but suddenly you’re willing to have one with me. Why? I’m assuming you had a reason for not wanting them in the first place. I don’t want you to compromise yourself for me,” Chelsea said. Even as she said it, she felt silly. This whole conversation was silly.

  A look of poignant sadness briefly crossed Nate’s face. It was quickly replaced with a more serious expression.

  “I want you, Chelsea. Physically. There’s no getting around it. And I know you want me. The sex will be great, I can guarantee it.” Chelsea’s heart pounded at the thought and if she had been standing, her knees would have given way. She was sure Nate Stone could do amazing things with his body and to hers. That wasn’t the reason for her hesitation. “But you’re right, I don’t do one night stands. I don’t do them because I never felt any sort of connection with the women. Which used to be great. Now I hate it. But I like you. I don’t just want you. So even if you walk away in the morning, I could live with it. And if you don’t, well, that’s even better.”

  “If we do this, I’m going to walk away, Nate,” Chelsea said as gently as she could.

  She had to tell him. If he changed his mind, that was his right. But she had to go in with a clear conscience. “I have to. I can’t take another broken heart, not right now.”

  Especially not right now, she thought. This was the worst possible time to engage in a relationship with anyone. A relationship with a street sexy, leather jacket wearing motorcycle riding rock star would kill her. There were days when she merely felt shaky, then others when she couldn’t get out of bed. Nursing a broken heart would take more energy than she had to spare.

  “I’ll let you go,” Nate said simply.

  “Okay,” Chelsea replied with a slight nod of her head. Her body wouldn’t let her have it any other way.

  The transition from maybe to definitely had occurred quickly, and her mind no longer wanted to process abstract thought. All the desire she had been restraining flooded through her at once, but she had no idea how to begin. None of her fantasies had involved a thought out plan, a crazy one at that. She was still trying to think of a way to start when Nate stood and slid his arms under her, easily lifting her off the couch. This romantic gesture wasn’t at all what she had been imagining. Tearing each other’s clothes off in the heat of passion, yes, but a chivalrous lift?

  Nate’s arms were strong around her and Chelsea unabashedly nestled her head into his neck and inhaled him. No matter how she squirmed against him to get closer, he never struggled to hold her. Being pressed fully against him was nearly more than Chelsea could handle. She shoved down the memories of their earlier tryst in the car, but with his hands wrapped on her waist and legs, her body was more than ready to remember. He walked towards the back of the house, pushing open a door with his hip.

  The room was nearly dark, but Chelsea could make out the centerpiece, a gigantic bed made with a tan comforter. Cozy and darkened, the room was painted a deep red color and seemed manly without being intimidatingly macho. No rock star leather and mirrors for him. Not what she had expected, but so far, Nate seemed to offer a lot of that.

  Nate laid her on the bed and knelt over her. Chelsea couldn’t make out his face very well in the dim light, but she could feel his eyes on her. Wriggling against the soft fabric, Chelsea settled her head
deeply into the down pillow.

  He didn’t touch her, just stared at her for a few long moments. His eyes traced the curves of her body, lingering on her chest and legs. As his gaze passed over her, she felt her body warm and relax. Chelsea grew impatient waiting for Nate to ease himself down on top of her. She wanted, no needed, to have his weight on top of her. What was he waiting for? Had he changed his mind?

  Lying on the comfy bed, her body began to betray her. Upright, she could convince herself she had the stamina to go a full day without napping. But now she realized just how much her day trip had cost her. Limbs heavy with exhaustion and arousal, Chelsea’s brain floated away from her.

  Nate lowered his head and slowly touched his lips to hers and her languor deepened. For the first time in a long time, Chelsea’s mind had stopped its anxious fretting. She was simply body. Nate’s kiss was lazy and exploratory, his tongue slowly rolling into her mouth and seeking out the most sensitive areas. By the time Nate started exploring the skin on her neck, she was somewhere between sleep and waking. Her hands played with his soft hair, but their actions were no longer controlled by anything but sensation. Nate’s hands moved over her as if in a dream, each touch quickening her desire and sinking her deeper into relaxation.

  Soon, Chelsea was out of her clothes. Before she could fully process feeling chilled, Nate slid her between the sheets, her heated skin soon warming the cool cotton. Nate was there with her, his skin soft under her languid hands, the stubble of on his chin brushing against her stomach, her thighs. She was pure, hot liquid, flowing towards unconscious pleasure.

  The delicious feeling of Nate’s tongue, wet and soft against her clitoris woke her only a little. Fantasy and reality blended in Chelsea’s mind and body as Nate’s tongue parted her soft curls and his tongue slowly ran over her folds, tasting her, teasing.