Blindsided Read online

  His tongue flicked and slid all around the center of her, until finally, slowly and teasingly, he slid a finger inside her. Her body’s response was purely primal. What had felt liquid quickly tightened in pleasure and need and Chelsea’s orgasm gained strength and quickly overtook her slumber drugged body.

  ###

  Chelsea struggled to drag her consciousness back from the deep blackness of a dreamless sleep. Her head felt heavy, her body languid. As she awakened fully, she realized what she had done. Fallen asleep during probably the best oral sex of her entire life. Oh, lovely. Nate must have been horrified. She certainly was. Processing this unflattering information, Chelsea stared at the ceiling in horror. Still, he hadn’t woken her up to fulfill his own needs. Either he had just given up on her as hopelessly pathetic or was more understanding than most.

  Slow, sensual and completely selfless wasn’t what she had been expecting. Hot, sweaty and frantic was more like it. He kept surprising her, and it was beginning to get through her defenses. Once again, he wasn’t playing his part as a stereotype. Chelsea looked around the room and saw more evidence that Nate wasn’t what she had believed from the moment she had laid eyes on him. The room was tasteful, subtle. Art pieces hung on the walls and sat on the bookshelves that lined the wall. It was clean, neat and there were no beer bottles or mysterious drug paraphernalia to be seen.

  Chelsea sighed and rolled over, sticking her head under the pillow. This was getting more complicated than she had bargained for and she hadn’t actually slept with him. After giving her the most intense and interesting orgasm of her life, he had left her to sleep. That took not only caring and kindness, but self control of a sort she had never seen. Nate was not simple, far from it. Now that she had had one orgasm, and slept a bit, she saw the foolhardiness of accepting his plan. What made her think she was strong enough to resist falling for him?

  If she wasn’t careful, he’d rock her into a dream world with his sweetness. Then, when he stopped playing nice, she’d be left hurt and confused. And it would be all the worse because she should know better.

  Chelsea shook her head to clear it. She still had a night to contemplate what she would do in the morning, and right now she felt herself missing Nate, his magnetism, his smile. The light coming through the windows was dim and gray. It was probably still raining and the clock next to the bed told her she’d been asleep for over an hour. Where was Nate, anyway? It was time to find out if he was mad or understanding. Either way, facing him for the first time was going to be slightly embarrassing.

  Chelsea briefly looked around for her clothes before lazily giving up. How was that for wanton? Never in her life had she had a sexual experience that left her so out of her mind that she hadn’t kept very careful track of her clothes. Now that she was fully awake, she heard the faint sound of an acoustic guitar coming from some other room. Intrigued, she wrapped herself in the blanket and went in search of the sound.

  She found its source in a den decorated with posters and gold albums. Chelsea started to look at the posters nearest her, interested in seeing Nate as a rock star, but the sight of the real thing drew her attention away. Nate sat on a stool, playing the guitar and occasionally breaking off to make notes on a pad that sat on a large, wooden desk next to him. He was shirtless and his hair was an adorable mess. His back was to her and Chelsea allowed herself a moment to study the muscles in his back that rippled beneath his painted skin when he moved. She was struck with a sudden pang of sadness. Soon she would have to leave and she wouldn’t be able to study his body or inspect the tattoos she found so fascinating.

  Moving quietly to a couch by the door, she lay down, resting her head on the arm. The music he was playing was slow and quiet. He began to sing in a deep, mournful voice. He only got through a two phrases before shaking his head and crossing something out on his notebook before returning to playing the guitar.

  Watching his creative process was fascinating, enthralling; watching his body move kept her arousal at a low hum. This moment was more intimate than their sleepy encounter of a few hours ago and Chelsea tried halfheartedly to fight the feeling of connection blossoming in her chest. Sleepy and sated, she soon gave up.

  ###

  Frustrated, Nate set his guitar on its stand and turned his stool around to grab his cigarettes off his desk and caught sight of Chelsea lying on the couch. His heart leapt a little when he saw her. He expected to feel intruded upon, as he did anytime anyone interfered with his songwriting, but the feeling failed to materialize. In fact, he felt the completely unfamiliar desire to share with her, to get her opinion on his latest song. Hell, maybe she could help him out of his current rut.

  Instead of asking for advice, he smiled at her. He still wasn’t sure where they stood. He didn’t think she had feigned sleep as a way to tactfully avoid him, but he couldn’t be sure. She was already so skittish about him, about his offer, that he hadn’t wanted to push her away. And so he had walked away from her warm naked body and come to write in the hopes of shaking off his sexual frustration. The success had been marginal. Very marginal.

  “Hey, sleepy head,” he said, trying to keep any bitterness out of his voice.

  “Sorry I fell asleep,” she said, “I didn’t mean to. I was just, well, relaxed. It wasn’t a reflection of your, um, talents,” she said, red climbing up her cheeks. Apparently, she was as thrown off by the situation as well.

  “I’ll try not to let my ego get too bruised,” Nate said with a grin. “It was obvious you needed the sleep.”

  Which was a little strange. What had she been up to that she was so physically devastated? Nate wanted to know, and then he wanted to fix it. When he had gotten her undressed, he had noticed that she was too thin, as well. It had been too dark to see clearly, but he had felt her ribs, the jut of hip bones. Christ, did she have some awful illness? It would be unfair for someone with so much fire to be wasting away.

  “Well, that’s good. There’s no reason for your ego to be in the least bit bruised. In fact, you should take it as a compliment.”

  “I’ll try to do that,” he said.

  And he did. Sort of. He’d never had a woman fall asleep while he’d been performing that particular act, but at least she’d come for him first. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman who was relaxed around him. They were usually worked up and excited about fucking a rock star. Afterwards, they had tended to want to babble at him, not fall asleep. He was so glad those days were gone. Other guys might think he was nuts, but that was the way it was.

  That didn’t mean he was dead. He was pretty sure Chelsea was naked under that blanket. He couldn’t take the suspense anymore. His unfulfilled need suddenly roared back into new life and he needed to have her, needed to be inside her. Now.

  “Come here,” he said as he stubbed out his cigarette.

  She wouldn’t have a chance to go to sleep this time. They weren’t leaving this room, and there was no soft, comfy bed here. He held out his arms and made crooking motions with his fingers.

  “I don’t think we’ve known each other long enough for you to be ordering me around,” Chelsea said teasingly.

  Her eyes shone and she wriggled under the blanket. Christ, she was so little and sexy and she was driving him nuts, even under the blanket.

  “Please come here,” he said, emphasizing the first word.

  Chelsea smiled and stood up and began walking towards him, still wrapped in the comforter.

  “How about you leave the blanket there, babe?” Nate said.

  Oh, yeah. Leave the blanket. Please, god, leave the frigging blanket.

  So the song wasn’t coming together the way it should, and he was too old for this beautiful woman. This woman who was standing not only in his sanctuary of a house, but also in the private space he used only to write. Nate didn’t care. Not right now. Right now longing and desire surged through his body as he anticipated the removal of that damn comforter. She dropped the fabric back onto the couch and turned t
owards him. Nate’s throat clenched closed for a moment and his breath stopped in his chest.

  Long slim legs curved into beautifully formed hips. Her waist was so tiny it looked fragile, but her breasts were high and firm and round, tipped with pink nipples. A red triangle of hair disappeared between her thighs. As she walked towards him, hips slowly undulating with each step, her breasts swayed in a hypnotic arc. When she got within reach, he pulled her to him with one arm, caressing her back with his hand, while he brought his other hand up to touch her face.

  “You are quite possibly the sexiest woman I have ever seen.”

  It wasn’t even a line. He had seen beautiful women in his time, plenty of them, but Chelsea was something else all together.

  She straddled him easily, resting her feet on the rungs of his stool, settling herself onto him. He all but lost his mind, seeing the darkened cleft for a split second before she positioned herself to cradle his erection with the warmest part of her. Nate let out a primitive groan of pleasure and reached up to gently tease her nipples while he sucked on the delicate skin of her arched neck. Chelsea ran her fingers through his hair and moved her hips in a slow arc, pressing them together with delicious pressure. Nate grabbed her hips with both hands, savoring the feeling of her warm skin under his palms.

  “Better than all the groupies?” Chelsea asked.

  She looked at him with a glint in her eye. Her hair hung over her face, making her mysterious, enticing. As he looked at her, Nate wondered how he could have ever thought he would be able to get away from her without getting inside her at least once. More if at all possible. She was feminine softness, sweetness, ripe and ready.

  “Oh, babe, you have no idea,” Nate said “I noticed you don’t mind that I call you babe and sweetheart anymore.” He nuzzled her neck, unable to feel that her acquiescence to pet names wasn’t a small victory on his part.

  His voice was husky, rough. He wanted to just throw her on the couch and have her like some horny teenager, but he made himself regain some control. If she did leave tomorrow, he wanted this to be a one fabulous one night stand. Of course, if he did this right, she wouldn’t be able to leave. She’d be as unable to get enough as he was. It might be idiotic, but it was the best he could do.

  Chelsea laughed and pressed her groin harder into his. Nate caught his breath and growled once before regaining control of himself.

  “Now you say it nicely,” she said, “Before you were being mean, using it like it was derogatory.” Her little fingers stroking the back of his neck felt like sweet torture.

  “It was. I thought you were a groupie. I get very little time to relax,” Nate said.

  Each word was a chore to grind out, and he was having trouble concentrating when Chelsea was warm, soft and wiggling in his lap. And naked. He couldn’t forget naked.

  “Are you relaxed now?” Chelsea asked as she ran her hands down his chest. His nipples tightened in response to her hot little fingers.

  “Yeah, something like that,” Nate said.

  Enough of that. He stopped their conversation with a blistering kiss, his tongue exploring and tasting her mouth more fully than he had before. Nate’s mind left him then, all his focus going to thoroughly ravishing this woman he wanted so much.

  ###

  Chelsea pulled away and looked down at Nate, her eyes hazy with lust. His kisses were one thing, but now he had moved his hand down to the downy, burning spot between her legs. He raised one eyebrow at her as he stroked her clit with the knuckle of one finger, the pressure teasingly light. Moaning in delight, she arched her back, pressing against his hand. Had it not been for Nate’s strong arm supporting her, she would have fallen backwards in her abandon. It was like torture, yet so pleasurable Chelsea felt her mind go blank.

  His lips found her nipple and he nibbled it gently. Chelsea tried to moan, tried to cry out, but she had moved beyond that into a world of pleasure beyond sound, beyond anything but body and movement. She wiggled her hips against Nate, encouraging him, asking him for what she wanted with her body.

  After what seemed like an eternity of sliding his fingers along her slick swollen flesh, he finally slipped one long finger inside before teasingly taking it almost all the way out again. Chelsea pressed her hips down against him, mindlessly needing the pressure there. He obliged, finding a rhythm with his finger that he matched with his tongue against her sensitive, hard nipple.

  Nate slipped his finger out again and Chelsea moaned in protest. He had gotten her so close, the tension coiling in her, ready to release. She glared up at him and he growled as he picked her up and carried her the few feet to his desk. He set her down gently, allowing her legs to dangle from the edge.

  “Comfy?” he asked with a grin.

  She was spread out before him, her body naked, thrumming with need. No, she wasn’t comfy. She was nearly crazy from wanting him and he was standing there with his jeans on. The sight of his abdominal muscles curving into the low slung waistband made her mouth go dry. Near frenzied, she pulled at the button of his jeans, running her hands down smooth skin as she slid them off his hips and smiling with delight when his erection bobbed out to greet her.

  “Better now,” she managed to say.

  She leaned up to kiss him, licked his lower lip while sliding her hand up and down his hard shaft. He groaned and soon took control of the kiss, sliding his tongue along hers and reinserting his finger in her. Her pussy was wet and pulsing with need and his finger was no longer enough. Chelsea grabbed his ass with both hands, urging his hips towards her own.

  He made a noise for her to wait and in a moment he had a condom on and had brought his hips back to meet hers. Nearly dizzy with anticipation, Chelsea pushed forward to meet him, gasping when his full length slid inside her, feeling her muscles tighten around him to pull him in further. She brought her legs farther up his rib cage, clutching at him as her orgasm built up, pushing her forward.

  As he increased his tempo, she tipped over the edge, grabbing his shoulders and hanging on as he drove into her, sending them both into blissful oblivion.

  Chapter 5

  Where the hell was his sister? Tony stared out the window above his desk and worried. He should have been working on his latest project, a complete site overhaul for a client, but he wasn’t focusing. Chelsea had left early yesterday and all he’d heard from her since was a fuzzy message on his machine that told him her damn car had broken down – again – in the middle of nowhere. She hadn’t told him where, or he would have been there by now.

  Chelsea was a good kid, a smart kid, but she was gone so much Tony wasn’t sure she still knew how to be careful. He couldn’t stop worrying that she’d run into some idiot on a bike and run off with him. That would be like Chelsea. No, Tony corrected himself, that would be like Chelsea used to be, hauling a string of leather clad bikers home to shock Mom. Of course, she was the one who had a broken heart when they left, not Mom, but it had taken Chelsea a while to figure that out. Lately, she seemed to have gotten a grasp on that concept.

  Tony hauled his mind back to the html he was working on, but it just looked like a bunch of nonsensical letters and symbols. Dammit. When Chelsea was off running around, he never gave her a second thought except to miss her. But since she’d returned from Sydney, everything had been different.

  When she had left yesterday, Tony had almost called her back and told her not to go. She looked like shit, which he’d told her, but it obviously hadn’t gotten through to her. She had probably taken it as more teasing from her big brother. But she had lost weight and her coloring was off, paler. Mom was overreacting, but Chelsea was under-reacting. As usual, it was up to Tony to find the middle ground.

  With a growl, Tony stopped trying to make his work make sense and got up to get a refill on his coffee. He studiously ignored the photos of his sometimes girlfriend, Jen. Thinking about her would not help his mood at this point. Especially not after her call a few days ago. Even though he had deleted it, he could still hear the m
essage she had left on his machine: We need to talk. That was always a fun thing to hear. He hadn’t worked up the guts yet to call her back and find out what that meant.

  Chelsea’s disappearance gave him a good excuse to keep putting it off. Should he be calling hospitals and police stations now? Probably not, since she was an adult, but still. The problem was, Tony had no idea if it was normal for her to leave for days at a time or not. It could be perfectly within her normal behavior, or it could be a huge red flag. He wished he knew which it was.

  ###

  Nate opened the fridge and revealed a mass of white wrapped packages. Chelsea raised her eyebrows and glanced at him. She was starving, and he had promised her food, but so far she had seen none. Hunger had been the only thing to rouse them from their stupefied slump on Nate’s desk, and now it appeared she would be going hungry.

  “So what’s this?” she asked.

  “Trust me, you don’t want me to cook for you,” Nate said with a laugh, “You’d be out of here long before tomorrow morning. My housekeeper cooks for me and leaves lunches and dinners in my fridge.”

  “What do you do for breakfast?”

  Nate gave her a funny look.

  “I eat cereal,” he said, as if everyone in the world subsisted on corn flakes.

  She spotted a gallon of milk on the door of the fridge, the only store bought item there.

  “So, what are my options?” she asked.

  “Lasagna, spaghetti with meatballs, probably some tortellini,” Nate said as he rummaged through the packages, reading the handwritten labels.

  “Oooh, pasta. I thought they had outlawed that stuff. I came back from a trip a few years ago and everyone had sworn off carbs. It was kind of disconcerting,” Chelsea said as she wrapped herself around his bare torso. They both still smelled of sex and contentment.

  She kissed the soft skin on the side of his ribcage and instantly wondered what the hell she was doing. This wasn’t sex; it was tenderness. It was not working things out of her system, it was intimacy and, god help her, affection.