to see her—to really see her—and feeding her was the best way she knew how.
Chapter Eight
Emily couldn’t stop glancing over at Nat during the drive to the grocery store. As much as she wanted to concentrate on the road, it was impossible not to let her gaze stray for occasional reality checks. She couldn’t believe the turn their night together had taken. Even though the sex had been fantastic, she had never dreamed that Nat would invite her home afterward. She hoped she understood what was happening between them—she assumed it was casual sex, but something about Nat’s affectionate attention told her it could be more. Outside the bedroom, Nat was polite, gentle, and solicitous. She seemed genuinely interested in who Emily was. And if she was trying to hide what seemed like very real infatuation, she was doing a terrible job of it.
Emily was infatuated, too. Nat was her perfect fantasy of masculine femininity. She exuded a definite air of danger, yet Emily sensed that with the right woman, she would be as loyal as a puppy. And she knew how to fuck . It all made for a very attractive package, one that Emily couldn’t resist, even as her gut told her that trying to make this date last beyond their one special night was flirting with disaster.
There were so many ways this situation could end badly. That Nat might think better of her attraction wasn’t her biggest worry, although the thought did sadden her. Scarier than rejection was the possibility that she might actually fall for Nat, and Nat for her. She meant what she’d told Nat—she was too busy for a relationship. She had Colleen to raise, at least for another few months, and after that she had to work and pay for Colleen’s college. That left no room in her life for a girlfriend, which suited her fine, most days. Being alone was easier. Relationships were messy, and relying on other people had never gotten her anywhere.
“You’re awfully quiet.”
Emily startled as Nat’s low voice broke through her thoughts. She glanced over, plastering on a grin that she hoped didn’t look as anxious as she felt. “Sorry. Just thinking.”
Nat rubbed a hand over her head, utterly delicious in all her butch glory. She’d changed into a spare set of clothes she kept at the penthouse, faded blue jeans and an obviously cherished T-shirt that bore the name of a band Emily didn’t know. Sexy was an understatement. She was pretty sure that if Nat asked her what was wrong, looking like that, she would have a hell of a time not spilling her guts. Doing so would surely end their date in a hurry. Then again, maybe that would be for the best.
But Nat didn’t ask. Instead she said, “So do you like being an accountant?”
Emily relaxed. That was an easy one. “I do. I love numbers. I find them very comforting.”
“I’m impressed. I always hated math class, myself.” Nat gave her a not-so-subtle once-over, seemingly torn between amusement and desire. “Were you one of those brainy girls in high school?”
“I guess so. I excelled in my classes, if that’s what you mean. Math most of all.” Aware that she was outing herself as a geek in a very big way, Emily couldn’t help but smile at her fond memories of precalculus and geometry. “I loved that numbers would never let me down. They’re consistent, understandable, and orderly—everything my life at home wasn’t.” She rolled her eyes. “God, no wonder I haven’t had a date in four years. Listen to me.”
Nat reached over the center console and placed a hand on Emily’s thigh. “You’re adorable.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Are you kidding me? In high school I was the bad girl…and who do you think this bad girl always had crushes on?” Nat brushed her free hand over Emily’s breast, teasing her nipple. “The pretty, innocent valedictory types…the good girls. The girls who liked math class and blushed when they caught me staring.” She kissed Emily’s cheek, whispering, “You’re gorgeous
Chapter Eight
Emily couldn’t stop glancing over at Nat during the drive to the grocery store. As much as she wanted to concentrate on the road, it was impossible not to let her gaze stray for occasional reality checks. She couldn’t believe the turn their night together had taken. Even though the sex had been fantastic, she had never dreamed that Nat would invite her home afterward. She hoped she understood what was happening between them—she assumed it was casual sex, but something about Nat’s affectionate attention told her it could be more. Outside the bedroom, Nat was polite, gentle, and solicitous. She seemed genuinely interested in who Emily was. And if she was trying to hide what seemed like very real infatuation, she was doing a terrible job of it.
Emily was infatuated, too. Nat was her perfect fantasy of masculine femininity. She exuded a definite air of danger, yet Emily sensed that with the right woman, she would be as loyal as a puppy. And she knew how to fuck . It all made for a very attractive package, one that Emily couldn’t resist, even as her gut told her that trying to make this date last beyond their one special night was flirting with disaster.
There were so many ways this situation could end badly. That Nat might think better of her attraction wasn’t her biggest worry, although the thought did sadden her. Scarier than rejection was the possibility that she might actually fall for Nat, and Nat for her. She meant what she’d told Nat—she was too busy for a relationship. She had Colleen to raise, at least for another few months, and after that she had to work and pay for Colleen’s college. That left no room in her life for a girlfriend, which suited her fine, most days. Being alone was easier. Relationships were messy, and relying on other people had never gotten her anywhere.
“You’re awfully quiet.”
Emily startled as Nat’s low voice broke through her thoughts. She glanced over, plastering on a grin that she hoped didn’t look as anxious as she felt. “Sorry. Just thinking.”
Nat rubbed a hand over her head, utterly delicious in all her butch glory. She’d changed into a spare set of clothes she kept at the penthouse, faded blue jeans and an obviously cherished T-shirt that bore the name of a band Emily didn’t know. Sexy was an understatement. She was pretty sure that if Nat asked her what was wrong, looking like that, she would have a hell of a time not spilling her guts. Doing so would surely end their date in a hurry. Then again, maybe that would be for the best.
But Nat didn’t ask. Instead she said, “So do you like being an accountant?”
Emily relaxed. That was an easy one. “I do. I love numbers. I find them very comforting.”
“I’m impressed. I always hated math class, myself.” Nat gave her a not-so-subtle once-over, seemingly torn between amusement and desire. “Were you one of those brainy girls in high school?”
“I guess so. I excelled in my classes, if that’s what you mean. Math most of all.” Aware that she was outing herself as a geek in a very big way, Emily couldn’t help but smile at her fond memories of precalculus and geometry. “I loved that numbers would never let me down. They’re consistent, understandable, and orderly—everything my life at home wasn’t.” She rolled her eyes. “God, no wonder I haven’t had a date in four years. Listen to me.”
Nat reached over the center console and placed a hand on Emily’s thigh. “You’re adorable.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Are you kidding me? In high school I was the bad girl…and who do you think this bad girl always had crushes on?” Nat brushed her free hand over Emily’s breast, teasing her nipple. “The pretty, innocent valedictory types…the good girls. The girls who liked math class and blushed when they caught me staring.” She kissed Emily’s cheek, whispering, “You’re gorgeous
Similar Books
