With Me In Seattle: Fight With Me Part 25

"This is going to be fast, Jules."

"Yes, fast." I guide him through my lips to my opening, and he slides in, all the way to the hilt. He's so deep, so big, and I know this will not last long, for either of us.

Jesus, two minutes ago I was about to fall asleep in his lap!

"So beautiful." His hips are moving quickly, he's slamming into me hard, and he pulls my leg up over his shoulder, letting him sink into me even deeper.

"Holy f.u.c.k, babe." I grip onto his arms and hold on for dear life as he thrusts into me fast and hard, and oh so deep. His hands tighten in my hair and he rests his forehead against mine as I feel his o.r.g.a.s.m work through him.

"With me," he whispers, and it pushes me over the edge, and I shatter around him.

"Wow," I whisper and kiss his nose.

"G.o.d, Julianne, I never stop wanting you." He pulls out of me and reverses our position so I'm lying on top of him, my head on his chest. His pants are still pulled down, and mine are a torn mess, but neither of us cares.

"Back at you, ace. You are so beautiful, inside and out." I lay my hand over his heart and smile softly. "Thank you, by the way."

"No need to thank me for that, baby. It's my pleasure."

I laugh and prop myself up on my hands so I can look into his face. "Not that, smart a.s.s. Thanks for this weekend. We needed it."

He tucks my hair behind my ear and sighs. "Yeah, we did."

I yawn and settle back down on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat and enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall with each breath he takes.

"Let's sleep," he whispers and kisses my hair.

I wake alone. A fresh log has been tossed onto the fire, I smell something delicious coming from the kitchen, and the radio is still on. I don't recognize the song that's playing.

I sit up and stretch. There is no sign of Nate, so I stand up and run upstairs to throw away my ruined yoga pants and change into jeans. I pick up my iPhone and turn it on as I descend the stairs.

Hmm... where did Nate go?

I sit back down on the couch and rub my hands over my face, trying to wake up. Naps always leave me extra groggy.

My phone starts to ring on the couch cushion next to me. I don't recognize the number.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Jules?" a woman asks.

"Yes."

"Hi, this is Marie Desmond from Playboy Magazine. I'm sorry to bother you on a Sat.u.r.day."

"No problem, what's up?" I frown and stand to pace the room as I talk. What could they possibly want?

"Well, I'm calling because we are about to do an anniversary shoot for the July issue, and we're bringing back some of our most popular girls. Do you have any recent photos of yourself?"

"Yes, I have some recent photos, Marie, but none that are nude." Holy s.h.i.t!

"That's okay, I'd love for you to email a couple to me."

"I'm not even sure that I'd be interested in posing for an anniversary issue." I stop pacing in front of a wide window and watch the ocean crash on the sand below.

"Well, it pays fifty thousand dollars, Jules."

"Fifty thousand dollars? Holy s.h.i.t, Marie, that's double what I got for the month I was the centerfold. Why so much?"

"We've been authorized to offer that to you veteran girls for this special issue."

"I don't know, Marie. That part of my life was a long time ago, and I'm not so sure that my father's heart could survive me posing nude again," I say with a laugh, and I hear Marie's chuckle on the other end.

"I understand. Think about it over the weekend and call me on Monday."

"Okay. Thanks for the opportunity, Marie."

"You're welcome. I'll talk to you soon."

I hang up the phone and lean my forehead against the cool gla.s.s of the window.

Holy f.u.c.k.

"h.e.l.l, no."

I twirl around at Nate's angry voice and find him standing next to the couch, leaning his hip against it with his arms folded over his chest.

"I take it you heard?"

"No way, Julianne."

"I didn't say I was going to do it."

"You didn't say no." His eyes are glacial, his jaw clenched, and he's just so p.i.s.sed.

"She offered me fifty grand. That's double what centerfolds make." This is so not about the money. I don't need it. But it is such a boost to my ego to know that they still want me!

"I'll deposit a hundred grand into your account when we get home. The answer is no." His voice is so calm, but he's radiating anger, and this really p.i.s.ses me off.

"I didn't ask you." I respond with a scowl.

"Julianne..."

"Stop." I hold up my hand and shake my head. "I am not your child, nor am I your wife. This is my decision, Nate."

I see a muscle twitch in his jaw and his eyes narrow on mine.

"So, what you're saying is, when my girlfriend, whom I happen to be in love with, is propositioned by Playboy Magazine to pose nude, I don't get to have an opinion in the matter?"

"You're not giving me your opinion. You're putting your foot down and telling me that I can't. I'm twenty six years old. I'll do what I want." I cross my arms over my chest and glare back at him.

"No discussion?" he asks quietly.

I sigh deeply and look down at my bare feet. I know I'm being stubborn and stupid, but d.a.m.n it, I'm not his property!

"Nate..." he crosses the room quickly and grips my arms in his hands, holding me in place.

"I can't stand the thought of it, Julianne. No other man will ever see you naked again, do you understand me?" His voice is raw, his eyes are pleading with me, and my brain just stops.

"Nate..." I try again, but he interrupts me once more.

"No," he shakes his head in denial. "I want to build a life with you. This isn't just an affair for me. And you get a call from someone you don't know who wants you to pose naked in a national magazine, and I don't weigh in on your decision at all? How is that supposed to make me feel?"

f.u.c.k.

"Nate." I step toward him and he loosens his grip on me, but his face is hard, his eyes pleading with me, and I take a deep breath and wrap my arms around his waist, press my cheek against his chest and hold on tight. "Stop, babe."

His arms fold around my shoulders and he hugs me to him.

I caress his back rea.s.suringly, kiss his chest and back away, still in the circle of his arms. I look up into his uncertain, weary face and smile, my anger gone. He loves me. He wants to protect me.

"I was never going to accept their offer, Nate."

"Why didn't you just turn her down?" he asks quietly.

"Two reasons: One, because it felt nice to get the offer, and two, because ironically, I hadn't talked it over with you. You know I'm not interested in that. But it's really flattering that they thought of me, out of all the girls they could choose." I shrug and look at his chest. "I would hope you'd be proud of me."

"Oh, baby, I am." He kisses my forehead and I feel the tension seep out of him. "I'm so proud of you. But I can't deal with the thought you of posing again. Please turn them down."

"Like I said, I wasn't going to accept the offer. But Nate, you can't just dictate to me what I will and won't do. I'm not the kind of girl that will just go along with your orders."

"I know, but d.a.m.n it, it p.i.s.sed me off."

"So noted."

"You're not going to do it?" He asks quietly, tilting my head back with his fingers under my chin, pinning me with his gray gaze.

"No." I run my fingers down his smooth cheek. "Besides, my brothers and Dad would freak."

"They're not alone." He kisses my forehead once again and pulls out of my arms, takes my hand and leads me toward the kitchen. "Come, I have something for you."

"I hope it's food, I'm starving." He smiles back at me.

"You'll see."

"So many surprises this weekend, Mr. McKenna."

"I like surprising you. We're going outside."

I look down at my bare feet. "Should I grab some shoes and a jacket?"

"No, you'll be warm enough. Here." He lifts me effortlessly into his arms and cradles me against his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek and breathe in his clean, Nate scent.

"You smell good. I like it when you carry me."

He smiles down at me, opens the sliding door, and walks out onto the deck. The sun is setting on the water, turning the sky orange, red and purple. It's stunning.

He walks to the stairs leading down to the beach and starts descending them.

"You don't have to carry me down all these stairs."

"You're fine." He responds and easily moves down the staircase. We arrive at the gazebo and I gasp.

"Surprise."

Chapter Twenty Three.

Nate lowers me to my feet and I stand in front of him, his hands resting on my shoulders, transfixed. The gazebo has been transformed into a lovely, romantic getaway. The fire pit in the center of the rustic s.p.a.ce is ablaze, there is a table set up on one side, filled with silver-dome covered plates and a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver ice bucket. An ottoman has been pushed flush against one of the plush outdoor loveseats, and there are large, colorful pillows and blankets propped on it.

White Christmas lights have been strewn along the perimeter of the s.p.a.ce, both along the ceiling and the railing, adding a soft glow.

Added to that is the amazing orange, red and purple sunset happening over the deep blue ocean, and I've never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

"Say something," Nate whispers.

"Wow," I murmur.

Nate turns me around so I'm facing him, his gorgeous gray eyes dancing with humor. "What do you think?"

"You went all mushy and romantic on me." I cup his cheek in my palm.

"Luke can give you mushy and romantic on the screen, but it's my job to give it to you in real life, baby. Get used to it." He leans down and gently lays his lips on mine, kissing me in the way only Nate can, and I sigh.

"Let's feed you."

We walk to the beautifully set table and Nate lifts the silver dome lids off the platters. There are finger foods on display that are amazing and too lovely to eat.

"Okay," Nate says, pointing at each dish. "We have chorizo-stuffed clams, bite sized Caprese salad on crostini," he smiles down at me, "which means cheese, tomato and basil on toasted bread, crab-cakes and bacon-wrapped steak."

"Holy s.h.i.t, this looks delicious." Nate hands me a plate and we dig in, piling food on our plates. He pours us each a gla.s.s of champagne and leads me over to the plush lounging s.p.a.ce. We are sitting side-by-side, Indian-style, our plates in our laps, facing the ocean.