London Bound (25 page)

“No,” Meg assured her. “Yeah, after the first time with Nathan, there was a brief moment of... Not guilt, not really. Because I don’t feel guilty. Scott’s been gone a long time, and he’d be the first to tell me I was being ridiculous for feeling guilty for that.” She gave a watery laugh, thinking about the man she’d loved who was nothing if not practical in every way. “So, no, Scott or my feelings for him aren’t an issue.”

“Good.” Caro smiled brightly. “And he would totally give you shit if you used him as a reason not to be happy.”

“It’s not like I’m actively trying to be unhappy!” Meg protested. “I’m actually trying to be sensible, like Scott was, and not put myself in a situation of having my heart broken. I can’t do that, again.”

Caro opened her mouth, then shut it immediately. After several moments of silence, she finally spoke. “What’s scaring you about continuing to have a relationship with Nathan? Don’t over think it, just say what pops into your mind.”

Meg took a deep breath. “London was perfect. He
made
it perfect. But long-term, with the complications of real life and all that, it can’t stay perfect. No relationship can.”

“So, you’d rather have no relationship than a imperfect one?”

Meg shifted uncomfortably, chest tight and stomach rolling.

“You were happy, weren’t you? With him?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“All right, well, the way I see it, you have a few of options. One, you can take a chance, continue a relationship with him, and see where it goes. Two, you can refuse to call him and your life continues the way it’s been since you lost Scott. And London and Nathan are just happy memories you pull out every once in a while. Or, three, you don’t call him or pursue a relationship and focus on finding someone here and starting a relationship that doesn’t have all the issues you keep obsessing over. And you’re shaking your head, why?” Caro asked amused.

“I’m not... I don’t want to find someone else. I just want... Urgh.” She bent forward, shoved her hands in her hair. “You were right—I love him. And I’m not going be with someone else because they’re the right age or because they’re convenient geographically.”

She felt Caro’s hand smooth up and down her tense back and tried to hold back the tears that threatened.

“You said you were avoiding a situation in which your heart would be broken,” Caro started, voice low and calm. “Too late. You fell for the guy. And what you’re doing—pushing him away, not even considering giving it a shot—is a surefire way to get exactly what you’re trying to avoid. Honey...your heart’s already breaking.”

“Damn it, Caro, I was trying not to cry.” Her breath hitched as she sat up, dashing tears from her cheeks with shaking fingers.

The other woman lifted a shoulder, completely unconcerned. “Is he worth it? Worth taking a chance for?”

Meg closed her eyes, mind firmly on Nathan—his smile, his insanely hot body, the way he always seemed to know what she needed, how he made her feel, how she’d felt walking away from him, and how the thought of never seeing him again hollowed her out. Fuck, could she really live with that empty feeling without even trying to make things work?

“Meg! Is...he...worth...it?” Caro repeated slowly.

“God, yes,” she whispered. “He is, but—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Caro wagged a finger at her. “No buts.”

“I’ll
but
all I want to.” Shoving at her friend’s knees, Meg glared. “What I was going to say, you bossy bitch, is I don’t know what to do. Not as in I don’t know whether to,” she took a deep breath and pressed her hands to her belly, “take a chance with this, but as in what do I do now? What do I say? What do I—”

Caro shifted quickly, kneeling on the couch, and grabbed Meg by the face. “What you’re going to do now, you neurotic whore, is get some more coffee with me. Then, we’re going to figure out a game plan for you. And, honey, you’re going to be okay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” She smacked a loud kiss on Meg’s mouth then jumped to her feet. “How can you be anything but okay, when you have me to figure shit out for you?”

“Bitch,” Meg muttered as Caro walked toward the kitchen.

“Whooooooooore,” she sing-songed in return.

Following her friend, Meg couldn’t hold back the wide smile that curved her lips. Even as her stomach clenched with nerves and anxiety about what would come next—the freaking
unknown
—she felt, for the first time since being home, that maybe everything would be all right.

* * * * *

E
verything was
not
all right.

With a strangled groan, Meg pulled the vibrator from between her legs. She blinked back tears as she flipped the switch to off.

“Fuck!” she ground out and threw the wand across the room, cringing when it bounced off the door to land on the carpet. She held her breath a moment, horrified one of the kids might come to investigate the fairly loud thud. Because that was just what she needed—being unable to bring herself off wasn’t enough. Aaron or Emily walking in to see Mom’s fucking sex toy on the floor... That,
that
would be the icing on the humiliation cake. Thankfully, one thing was working in her favor, and her door remained closed.

She couldn’t exactly enjoy the relief, though, because relief of a different kind altogether was just beyond her grasp. And had been since she’d gotten home. It wasn’t fair. She hit the mattress with her fists, stopping herself from kicking it as well in a full on tantrum, but fuck! Her muscles ached with tension, and all she wanted was a nice freaking orgasm to relax her so she could sleep. And she’d thought, since she’d made the decision to call Nathan, the anxiety she’d been feeling the past several days would be gone and she’d be able to come.

She’d assumed that’s what was preventing it, because it sure as hell wasn’t the fact that she was already so conditioned she couldn’t without Nathan’s say so. She didn’t want to believe she was that dependent on the man, no matter what decisions she made as far as he was concerned. It didn’t stop her from trying to imagine his voice, his face...just him while she tried to find release. Which only resulted in skirting the maddening edge, teetering so close but never being able to fall.

Instead of the nice hum of a satisfying orgasm, she was lying here, irritated and tense, and the thoughts that had her reaching for the vibrator in the first place racing back full force.

Meg rolled over onto her back and pulled the blankets over her head. Maybe she could smother the never-ending loop of worries and insecurities out of her brain. She’d
been
fine. Spent the day with Caro, had dinner then vegged out in front of the TV to catch up on
Arrow
with the kids, and had been feeling pretty damned good about things, about her plans. Then, she’d gone to bed. And, her brain had come to life in the quiet darkness.

When she’d finally gotten fully on board the let’s-give-this-a-chance train, it had been evening—or the middle of the night in London. The last thing she needed was to start the conversation on a shitty note by waking him. Especially, when he had to be to work in the morning. So, she figured she’d wait until her lunch break as it’d be the end of the workday for him. The problem with waiting—it gave Meg’s brain all sorts of time to freak out. And her brain was very,
very
good at freaking out. She thought maybe it’d gotten even better with all the practice through the years.

What if he’d changed his mind? Logically, she knew he was giving her time, had said he was, but a part of her feared calling him, only to hear him say, “Yeah, sorry, figured out you’re not worth it.” The logical side reminded her Nathan wasn’t a cruel man, nor was he a fickle one. Less than a week wasn’t going to change anything.

But, sadly, the dark and the quiet didn’t feed the logical.

No, her mind buzzed, landing on the things that could go wrong. The things she’d clung to, just like Caro said, even though she could see she’d been doing so out of fear. The calm she’d felt earlier, underneath the excitement and eagerness, with her determination to take action and commit to a relationship with Nathan was quickly becoming buried in the anxieties and doubts. She knew those things were just preying on her sleep-deprived mind—she knew it—but shutting them out was no easy feat.

And she’d gone to her sure-fire way to ease a bit of tension and anxiety...and just ended up feeling emotionally
and
physically strung out as a result.

Shoving the blankets down, Meg glared at the clock. The illuminated
2:16 AM
mocked her. She took a deep breath, tried to focus on relaxing her tight muscles. And only managed to ache more and become even more aware of the lingering slickness of her pussy as she shifted slightly.

She wondered briefly if Nathan had struggled with sleeping as much as she had the past week. Probably not, she snorted as anger surged. Irrational, maybe, but it burned through her, quickening her breathing with its intensity.

No, she was certain he wasn’t having a problem sleeping. Confidence wasn’t something Nathan lacked, and, in all likelihood, he was just biding his time until Meg called. Infuriatingly patient and so sure about how things would be. And he sure as fuck wasn’t having problems jacking off and being left wanting.

The unfairness of that alone fanned the flames of her irritation. With a huff, she rolled onto her side, unable to lay still—her skin too tight and agitation jittering through her. The pressure on her still swollen clit resulting from the movement stole her breath.

“Fuck this,” she gasped, sitting up.

She fumbled for her phone, pulling it from the charging dock on the bedside table. The screen lit up, and squinting against the sudden brightness in the dark room, she tapped in her passcode. It took her a moment to pull up her contacts then she stared at his name, heart pounding, tempted to just put the phone back and deal.

No. No, he’d told her she was his. He claimed her. Every part of her. Well, he could damn well deal with this part. She wasn’t going to suffer alone. No way.

She hit “call” and shakily brought the device to her ear. Squeezing her eyes shut, she listened to the ringing and wondered if it’d go to voicemail, already debating whether to leave a message if that happened. Just as panic started to poke through the anger, his voice—fuck, his voice—came over the line.

“Meg?”

Just that—her name—and Meg felt a tug low in her belly. One fucking word, and she was already stumbling back to the edge.
So much for not being conditioned.

She heard a few muffled sounds then Nathan spoke again.

“Meg, love? What’s going on?” The concern in his voice had her stinging, and she sniffed. “What’s the matter?”

“Are you really serious about making this work? Making us work?” she asked quickly, pulling the annoyance around her tightly, shielding herself from the happiness that sprang forth just hearing him.

“Of course.”

No hesitation. No doubt. Just a firm, matter-of-fact “of course”.

“Well, you better do something about this, then,” she snapped.

“Pardon?”

“No, no I won’t ‘pardon’,” she parroted sulkily. “You’re over there all sure and calm and...
you
. Meanwhile, I’m here barely holding it together. I can’t concentrate, I’m zoning out at work enough that Caro’s giving me shit and prying, I haven’t even unpacked yet because I don’t want to think about what I left! And I’m fucking exhausted. I can’t sleep, and I can’t even...I can’t even get off, for crying out loud. And it’s your fault! I can’t even come without you telling me. Giving me permission.” She choked back the cry building in her throat. “You...you broke me, Nathan.”

Nathan had just shut the door to his office when the words—
You...you broke me, Nathan
—washed over him. Thank fuck, because he had to lean against it heavily as his knees buckled.

“Oh, love,” he murmured, closing his eyes a moment.

“Don’t ‘oh, love’ me!” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat before asking, “Am I yours? Is that what you still want?”

“Yes, it’s what I want.” Then, pitching his voice lower, he answered, “And you are absolutely mine. In every way, love.”

Her breath stuttered out, a shaky sigh. “As much as I know I’m a strong, independent woman—I’ve managed on my own for a long time and could keep doing it if I had to—I want that. To be yours. But I need...I need you to...”

“What? What do you need me to do, Meg?”

“You broke it, so fix it!” she demanded, and Nathan had to bite back a laugh.

He pushed away from the door and walked over to sit behind his desk. Mentally cursing when he saw the time—he had to leave to make it to a meeting on the other side of the city—and the hope of getting off to the sound of Meg coming for him died. So, instead, he leaned back in his chair and rested his free hand on the armrest.

“You want to come,” he stated simply.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Have you tried?”

“Only every night this week.”

“Tonight?”

“Do you think I’d be this pissy if I hadn’t?” she retorted.

“Meg,” he admonished. “A simple yes or no would suffice.”

“Y-yes.”

“Are you wet still?”

“Yes... Yes, Sir.”

“Reach down and shove your fingers into your cunt for me,” he instructed. “Don’t touch your clit. Not yet. Just fingerfuck yourself, nice and slow.”

Her whimper morphed into a low, drawn out moan. Nathan waited, cock twitching as he listened to her panting breaths.

“How many fingers, Meg?” he asked, adjusted himself.

“Mmmm, two.”

“You can do better than that. Another,” he demanded.

“Ohhh. Oh, God, Nathan, please,” she cried.

“Please what?”

“It’s been too long. I’m...oh, ohhhh... Been so close all night, and I can’t...”

“Please what?” he repeated. “Ask me.”

“May I come? Please, Sir. May I come?” she pleaded.

He squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head back. Widening his legs to ease the pressure on his throbbing erection, he tried to ignore the arousal pumping through his veins.