This is Falling - Page 80/108

“Please, Nate. I need to…I don’t know, just please. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” I repeat over and over until it’s barely audible, and my eyes are literally rolling back in my head. My grip on him loosens, and I let my arms fall above me—over my head—feeling every nerve ending inside me fire and pulse and squeeze to the point of pure exhaustion. My body is covered in a sheen of sweat as Nate continues to move into me, his hands roaming up the sides of my body, roughly over my br**sts and neck until he finds my arms above my head. He holds them together, his fingers woven with mine, and his strength pushing me deeper and deeper into the mattress. I’m unable to move—not that I want to—and I stare at his face until he finally thrusts one last time, letting out the sexiest breath I’ve ever heard.

We’re a pile of arms and legs and chests and bare skin, tangled in a pink Barbie sheet; I’ve never felt more alive. My hair is damp with sweat, and Nate looks like he just walked off the baseball field. He’s so beautiful, and I’m lost looking at the line of muscles and tendons that begin at his neck and run down his body to his inner thigh. My god, I can’t believe this is my boyfriend. The thought makes me giggle inside, and eventually I let it out.

“Hey, you know that being scared thing you don’t like?” I nod, still laughing lightly. “Yeah, well, guys don’t really like laughing after sex.”

I suck my lips in and shrug my shoulders quickly. Oh god! I didn’t mean that. “Sorry, I was just…happy,” I say, letting a full smile take over my face, and I bury it in the crook of his neck to hide, my cheeks once again burning.

“Okay, well…be happy. Just don’t laugh at a naked man. It hurts our feelings,” he says, nudging his nose against my jaw.

“Nate, that was…oh. Don’t freak out, but I’ve never fully, oh god…” I tuck my face back into him.

“Was that your first orgasm?” he teases, but sweetly. I nod yes again quickly, keeping my face hidden—I’m so goddamned embarrassed. “Wow. I’m…honored. You know what, you laugh all you want. I feel like I just won an award. I might even make up a T-shirt that says I gave Rowe Stanton her first orgasm.”

“Nate! Don’t even joke…” I start, but stop when he starts to tickle my sides, making me laugh uncontrollably.

“Oh no. I’m doing it. And I’m making hats, too. And…oh yeah! I’m going to make one for Ty that says ‘My brother gave Rowe Stanton her first orgasm!’”

“Not funny!” I laugh, knowing he’s just teasing me for fun. This is our thing; we’ve been comfortable with each other like this since the moment we met. And my heart is soaring knowing nothing has changed. Even though everything has changed.

“Hang on, I need to log onto that website, where you can make your own shirts. I’m doing this today,” he says, trying to sit back up before I pull him back down on top of me.

“You know what, that’s a good idea. You can wear it when you meet my dad tomorrow. In fact, I’ll tell him you ordered him one, too!” And…checkmate. Nate’s smile falls flat; he lies down next to me, pulling the blanket up over us and tucking me deep within his arms.

“Okay, point made. You win with the dad-move. Now I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be able to look him in the eyes after what I’ve done,” he says, and I can detect the truth behind his joking.

“He’s going to love you. So is my mom,” I say, squeezing him tightly before I get him with one last zinger. “And when I tell them you gave me my first orgasm—”

“Okay! I get it!” he says, kissing me just to shut me up.

Chapter 24

Nate

Maybe I would have been nervous anyway, but ever since Rowe made the joke about me giving her…that…and telling her father, well? I’ve been sweating a lot today, and I haven’t taken the field at all yet. Her parents are in the stands sitting with her. Ty sent me a text—with a picture. They look nice.

“Hitting cleanup today, Preet,” coach yells over the sound of the balls cracking off bats. There’s something therapeutic about being in here, in the cages, with five or six guys all hitting at once. The noise is constant, distracting—I guess that’s why some people like wind chimes. I tip my helmet and nod, then take another swing, careful to watch my shoulder and my follow-through. It makes me smile every time.

After a really solid round, I grab my gear and head over to the bullpen to suit up. When I’m done, I walk over to the entrance and look to get a handle on where they’re sitting. Rowe’s waving at me to come over, her parents standing on either side of her, so I prop the mask up on my head and jog over, the entire time reminding myself not to make an ass out of myself in front of her father.