The Training tst-6 Read online

  I glanced back at Felicia. “It was nothing. Just talking with myself.”

  “Well, then, run downstairs and grab me a few grapes, would you?” she asked. “I think I could eat grapes without making a . . . Ow!” She looked up at the woman combing out her hair. “Watch it—I’d like to have some hair left when you finish.”

  Yes, grabbing a few grapes for Felicia sounded like a great idea. I loved her and everything, but she was driving me, and everyone else, just the tiniest bit crazy.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, dodging past her gown hanging from the dress form and heading for the door.

  “I suppose I’ll still be here.”

  I hurried down the stairs, holding my dress up so I wouldn’t step on it. I didn’t want to put my shoes on until absolutely necessary. Once I made it downstairs, I looked around for Nathaniel. I knew he was in the house somewhere—I’d spied his car from the upstairs window—but I hadn’t seen him yet.

  Oh, well. In two hours, he’d be in the backyard, standing by his cousin’s side. If nothing else, I’d see him then. I stepped into the kitchen, careful of the caterer and her crew, and made it to the center island, where a casual buffet of finger foods was prepared for the wedding party and family.

  I scanned the table. Grapes, grapes, grapes. Surely, there were grapes. Felicia wouldn’t have asked for them otherwise, right?

  A large hand cupped my bare left shoulder seconds before a pair of warm lips placed an openmouthed kiss at the nape of my neck.

  “My God,” Nathaniel said against my skin. “Look at you.”

  Every nerve I had tensed, and a wave of unfulfilled longing shot through my body.

  “Mmm,” I said, leaning back in to him while his arms came around me and his lips continued their exploration of my back.

  “I’ve been trying to make it upstairs to you all day,” he said, his breath tickling my ear, his hands meandering around my waist, drawing me close. Elaina had kept the men sequestered in the downstairs part of the house, while the women stayed upstairs. “Between Jackson, Todd, and Linda, I haven’t had the opportunity to slip away.”

  I nearly moaned as his lips found the spot right where my neck met my spine.

  “How fortunate I took the matter into my own hands and came downstairs when I did,” I said.

  He turned me around and looked at me with dark eyes. “How fortunate indeed,” he said, and bent to give me a soft kiss. But I’d been without him most of the week and wanted nothing to do with soft.

  “That all you got?” I teased.

  He leaned close and whispered in my ear, “When I get you home, I’ll show you exactly what I’ve got. The question is, do you want me to show you hard and fast or soft and slow?”

  “Both,” I said, stepping closer to him. “I’ll take hard and fast first, followed by soft and slow next.” I ran a hand under his jacket, teasing his chest. “Or maybe, if you’re up to it—”

  “Fuck, Abby. I’m always up for it.”

  His lips crushed mine, and I whimpered as his tongue made its way into my mouth. His taste. Damn, I’d missed his taste. I grabbed his lapels and pulled him closer, feeling his erection as he pressed against me. I moaned.

  Someone beside us discreetly coughed.

  Fuckity, fuck, fuck.

  Nathaniel pulled back, and I dropped my head to his chest, hands still clutching the material of his jacket, trying to get my breathing back to normal.

  His voice was dry and emotionless when he spoke again. “Melanie.”

  My head shot up, and I looked directly at the lovely woman standing next to the table.

  “You seem to have the most peculiar habit of showing up at just the—” Nathaniel started.

  I jumped in between the two of them, releasing Nathaniel’s jacket. “It’s good to see you again.”

  I said it because it was the sort of thing you said when faced with a person to whom you had nothing else to say. I watched her for a few seconds as she regarded us. She was really quite lovely, with her hair just right and her cocktail dress displaying her elegant frame to her advantage.

  It hit me then how very strange it was to be standing next to Nathaniel while we addressed his ex-girlfriend. He had kissed those perfectly made-up lips, had held her and made love to her, long before he’ d ever kissed or held me. Even though he’ d ended up leaving her, I felt just a little jealous.

  You’re being stupid, I told myself. What was it he’d said to me last weekend? It’s you. It’s always been you.

  I looked at Melanie and knew, deep within the recesses of my soul, that it had never been her, and that made me feel better.

  “Abby,” she said, holding out her hand. “It’s good to see you as well.”

  I looked up at Nathaniel and saw that he was watching her. I wondered what he was thinking. Melanie’s gaze dropped to my neck as we shook hands, and I saw a flicker of surprise cross her expression before she managed to cover it up.

  Well, well, well. While Melanie had not been shocked at finding Nathaniel and me together, she was surprised by my bare neck. However, if I wasn’t going to spill the details of us to my best friend, I sure as hell wasn’t going to share them with his ex-girlfriend.

  “Can we help you with something?” Nathaniel asked.

  His voice was still dry and somewhat emotionless, and I wondered if he always talked that way to her. Had he used that tone of voice for the entirety of their relationship? Or had it come later, when he placed upon himself all the needless guilt of not measuring up to her expectations?

  In that moment, I couldn’t decide if I should love Melanie for not being what he needed—forcing him, if you will, to find a new submissive, namely me—or hate her for all the pain and shame he had felt for needing to find a new submissive.

  Bygones, I decided. Let them be.

  “Mom and I went upstairs to see Linda,” Melanie said. “Felicia mentioned something about grapes. She said Abby was going to get them but had been gone forever.”

  “I’ve been gone for five minutes, tops.” I rolled my eyes. “Brides,” I added under my breath.

  Nathaniel laughed. “And here Felicia and I were getting along so well. She’ll never forgive me for holding up her grapes.” He turned to me. “Take the grapes on up to Felicia, Abby. I need to get back to Jackson anyway.” He cupped my face gently. “You look stunning.” He leaned close and whispered so Melanie couldn’t hear, “And later tonight, I’ll be up for everything your heart, or body, desires.”

  He kissed me once, quickly on the lips, gave a short nod and a crisp, “Melanie,” and was gone.

  Melanie looked the littlest bit ashamed. “I’m really sorry,” she said. “But I couldn’t get to the grapes and I felt bad interrupting, but . . .” She shook her head.

  “It’s not a big deal,” I assured her, taking a napkin and looking once more for the grapes. “I did tell Felicia I’d get the grapes for her.”

  “Let’s look here,” she said, lifting the cover off a bowl, exposing the contained fruit inside.

  I smiled at the woman whose relationship with Nathaniel had haunted me for so long. All the days I’d spent upset that he had kissed her. The shock and dismay I’d felt when Elaina told me she had never been his submissive. Even the anger I’d felt as Nathaniel relegated his so-called failure with her. I placed the grapes into my waiting napkin and realized all I felt for her now was a faint sort of kindness.

  Two hours later, I made my way down the makeshift aisle in Elaina and Todd’s backyard. I hated being the center of attention in any way, and for the first few minutes, all I thought about was all the people watching me.

  That ended as soon as I looked up to the front and noticed Nathaniel. I’d not had a chance to fully appreciate him earlier. When he pulled me to him, he’d been too close for me to get a good look at just how impressive he appeared. Walking down the aisle, I took it all in—the way his tuxedo hung just so on his shoulders, how the black in his jacket contrasted the deep green of hi
s eyes, the way his pants brushed the tops of his shoes, and his hair, as always, in the disarray I loved so much.

  It was as if his gaze and his gaze alone drew me forward. I almost felt the heat coming from his expression and wondered, in some offhanded way, if anyone else noticed. At that moment, it didn’t seem so crazy to think he’d one day be waiting for me at a different altar, at a different time, for an oh so very similar reason. The thought made me smile.

  You are breathtaking, he mouthed once I reached the altar.

  You’re one to talk, I mouthed back.

  He shook his head in disbelief and, somewhere in the background, the soft strands of a harp began to play.

  I noticed Felicia had made it to the front only when she blocked my view of Nathaniel. I mentally scolded myself for not paying closer attention. How embarrassing if anyone realized my focus rested on the best man, not the bride, and I resolved to do better.

  But as the minister welcomed everyone and Felicia and Jackson exchanged the vows that would bind them together forever, my mind wandered back to Nathaniel. Our gazes met, and I smiled again.

  Anything seemed possible.

  Chapter Fourteen

  —NATHANIEL—

  After the ceremony, the wedding guests stood around, drinking cocktails and eating hors d’oeuvres while Todd and Elaina’s backyard was changed into a reception hall. In no time, I took Abby in my arms for our dance together as best man and maid of honor.

  “Happy sigh?” she asked, pulling back slightly as a familiar piano melody started to play.

  “Happy sigh,” I said. “Jackson and Felicia are married. I met your dad and got along with him—”

  “Was there any doubt?”

  “I always factor in doubt. It’s part of my business mentality.”

  “This isn’t business.”

  I tightened my arms. “I know. But it’s a part of who I am. Besides, you didn’t let me finish.”

  “Finish what?” she asked, settling back into my embrace.

  I traced a hand across her shoulders and down her back. “Explaining my happy sigh.”

  “Of course. Continue.”

  “Where was I?” I said. “Oh, yes, I remember. My cousin has just married. I have a new cousin-in-law. The most amazing woman in the world is dancing with me, and the best news is, she’s going home with me tonight.”

  “That’s the best news?”

  I swirled us around and caught sight of Melanie talking with Linda. I had almost been rude to her earlier. Thankfully, Abby had been around to temper my attitude. And, truth be told, having Melanie catch me in a passionate embrace with Abby hadn’t been that bad. If there had been any doubt I was off-limits, the point had been made now.

  “Yes,” I said, answering her question. “It’s been far too long since I’ve had you in my bed.”

  “Nathaniel.”

  “Admit it. You feel it, too.”

  Her hand dipped down so it rested below my waist. Low enough to prove her point, but not quite low enough to be considered inappropriate. “Of course I feel it,” she said.

  “I’m looking forward to having you in my arms as I sleep tonight,” I said, tightening my arms around her.

  “Sleep? Is that all?”

  “No, but if I talk about it too much, I may drag you up to a spare bedroom or haul you into a closet.”

  “And that would be bad because . . . ?” she teased, pushing her hips against me.

  I bent my head and gave her earlobe a sharp bite, right where she liked it. “Because I’m going to take my time once I get you home.”

  Her breathing was short and ragged. “I thought you agreed to hard and fast first?”

  I ground my hips against hers, hoping the movement was inconspicuous to any onlooking wedding guests. “I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Changed your mind?” she asked, and I realized we weren’t dancing so much anymore, just swaying side to side as the music played.

  I moved us forward into more of a dancing motion. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to thoroughly enjoy taking my time with you.”

  “Hmph,” she said, but didn’t argue.

  I hid my smile in her hair. She was so fucking cute when she was flustered.

  The ride home was a torture of sorts. I kept my hand in Abby’s, and she passed time by drawing tiny figure eights on it. We spoke of the wedding details, laughing over a few slips, discussing various wedding guests and agreeing how nice it was the paparazzi were nowhere in sight for the entire event. It was an altogether simple conversation, especially considering how tightly strung we both were. How each sweep of her finger on my hand seemed to reach directly to my groin.

  “I have to take Apollo out,” I said when I pulled into the drive. I loved Apollo, really, but at times, I wished he were potty-trained.

  “I’ll wait upstairs,” she said.

  “Foyer, please.”

  One of her eyebrows rode in the pale silvery light of the house. “Okay.”

  I kissed her cheek as I helped her out of the car. “Thank you.”

  After I took Apollo outside and we made it back into the house, I locked the door behind me. She waited for me, rocking slightly on her heels.

  “Is there a reason you wanted me to wait for you here?” she asked, eyes full of mischief.

  I shrugged out of my jacket and dropped it on the floor. “Do you remember the time I had you spend the entire weekend naked?”

  “Vaguely,” she teased.

  I nodded to the stairs. “And I took you there, on the third step?”

  “You remember the step?”

  I made it to her and I placed a hand on each of her shoulders. “I remember everything. I remember looking at you, here in the foyer as you waited for me, and realizing even then that you belonged here. With me.”

  “That weekend?” Her breath swept warm against my neck.

  “Yes. I knew without a doubt, that weekend.”

  “I never knew.”

  “I know.”

  I tipped her head so our eyes met.

  “ ‘There is a Lady sweet and kind,

  Was never a face so pleased my mind;

  I did but see her passing by.’ ”

  I gently undid her hair and dropped the pins to the floor. They echoed as they hit the marble.

  “ ‘And yet I love her till I die.’ ”

  She gave a short intake of breath at my recitation of one of her favorite poems, and I smiled at her response. Traced the outline of her lips.

  “ ‘Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,

  Her wit, her voice my heart beguiles,

  Beguiles my heart, I know not why,

  And yet I love her till I die.’ ”

  “Nathaniel,” she murmured softly.

  I reached behind her and tugged the zipper of her dress down as far as I could. Then I pushed the soft material from her one shoulder.

  “ ‘Cupid is wingèd and doth range,

  Her country so my love doth change.’ ”

  Her eyes closed and her lips parted. I trailed a line of kisses down her neck.

  “ ‘But change she earth, or change she sky,

  Yet will I love her till I die.’ ”

  I slipped the dress down her body, allowing my hands the freedom to run over her form. Everything felt free now. I was free. Free to love her the way she deserved. Free to accept the love she gave me. Everything felt so . . . possible.

  “I love you, Nathaniel,” she whispered.

  I stilled at her words. It was the first time she’d ever told me she loved me first. How was it possible that four short words made my heart constrict the way they did?

  Blood surged through my body in response to her whisper, and I played them over and over in my head.

  “God, Abby, I love you,” I whispered back. As urgent as our need had felt hours earlier, the urgency had left, leaving in its wake the desire to reconnect.

  Her fingers undid the buttons on my shirt. Slowly. She took her tim
e as well, slipping her hands under the fabric, ghosting her thumbs along my nipples. I leaned down and kissed her again. And for a time we stood there, touching and teasing as we undressed each other. Our simple whispers echoed softly in the moonlit room.

  “Mmm.”

  “Yes.”

  “There?”

  “Again.”

  “More.”

  “Now.”

  “Please.”

  Until, finally, we agreed together.

  “Upstairs.”

  We slept in the next day, woke wrapped up in each other, slowly becoming conscious of our bodies as we stirred. Our touches became more and more urgent, moving quickly from caresses to teasing strokes until we both panted with need.

  She rolled me to my back, taking my head in her hands and kissing me deeply.

  I moaned into her mouth.

  She climbed on top, placing a knee on either side of my hips. She’d never brushed her hair the night before, and it fell in wild, sleep-tousled tangles to her shoulders. Without a word, she rose up and then lowered herself onto me. I lifted up to her, forcing myself deeper inside.

  She rolled her hips, and I brought my hands to rest right below the dip of her waist. Not to guide, not to control, simply to feel her muscles work under my hands. To enjoy the way she pleasured herself on my body. To enjoy her.

  Her head fell back as she rode me, and her breasts thrust outward. I ran my hands up her torso and cupped each breast, pinching her nipples. She increased her rhythm in response.

  She was beautiful in her pleasure—from the faint pink hue covering her body to the soft lustful groans she made as she approached her orgasm. Watching her, my own lust grew, and I slipped my hands down, grasped her hips hard, met her thrusts and matched them with my own. Over and over our bodies came together until her jaw dropped and she climaxed with a short shout.

  I held her still and drove myself into her faster and harder, feeling my own release approach. She whimpered, and I rubbed my thumb over her clit. Seconds later, I was rewarded by the feel of her contracting around me a second time. With a grunt and a thrust, my own climax shot through me and I released into her.