With Me In Seattle: Fight With Me Part 30

Nate has DJ up against the wall of the building, his face inches from DJ's, and enraged.

"Who the f.u.c.k taught you manners, a.s.shole?"

"f.u.c.k you," DJ spits out and kicks Nate in the s.h.i.+n. Nate grunts, but doesn't lose his grip on DJ's s.h.i.+rt. His arms are flexed tight in anger.

DJ looks over Nate's shoulder at me and smirks. "Hey, baby, did you miss this?" He grabs his c.o.c.k through his jeans and laughs at his own joke.

"You have no idea who you're f.u.c.king with," I murmur.

Nate hasn't moved a muscle. He's glaring at DJ, breathing hard, but he's completely controlled, and obviously isn't hurting the other man, given that he's able to make rude gestures at me.

DJ looks Nate up and down and smirks again.

"What do you want me to do, Julianne?" Nate asks softly.

DJ smirks. "Gotta ask your girlfriend for permission, p.u.s.s.y?"

"Kick his a.s.s, Nate."

"Thought you'd never ask, baby."

Nate takes a step back, releasing DJ, and turns his back on him, and I know what his strategy is: let DJ take the first shot.

Nate is not disappointed.

DJ grabs Nate's shoulder and pulls him around to face him and punches him, square in the jaw, Blood spatters from the corner of Nate's mouth.

"What do you think of that, a.s.shole?" DJ sneers.

"I think you have a pathetic right hook, moron."

Nate punches DJ twice, once in the nose, then in the gut, sending DJ to the ground, but the other man is stupid and gets back up, swinging. Nate weaves out of the way and counters with another right hook to the jaw, then grips DJ's shoulders and pulls him down against his knee, right to the gut and throws him to the ground again.

"Stay down," Nate growls.

"f.u.c.k you!" DJ stands again, more shaky this time, and rubs his stomach. He lunges for Nate again, fists flying, but Nate crouches and catches DJ around his torso and lifts him, slamming him against the wall with his strong shoulder, and drops DJ to the ground again.

Holy f.u.c.k! I knew Nate was strong, but seeing him, like this, is just amazing. Not only could he really hurt someone, he could kill someone.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stay down, motherf.u.c.ker."

DJ wheezes and coughs, wincing in pain. I'm sure his ribs are bruised, if not broken. He gets up to his knees, and Luke speaks for the first time.

"Are you learning impaired, dude? Stay the f.u.c.k down before he puts you in the hospital."

DJ is clearly embarra.s.sed as he falls back to the ground, sits on his a.s.s and winces again. A small crowd has gathered to watch the show, mumbling and laughing at DJ. He looks up at me and glares.

"I should have beat the s.h.i.+t out of you when I had the chance. You're nothing but a f.u.c.king wh.o.r.e anyway."

Nate rears back to kick DJ in the face, but I yell, "Don't!"

He stops and whirls on me, his eyes raw with rage. "What?"

I shake my head and look back down at DJ. I offer him a sweet, fake smile, walk sa.s.sily over to him, and squat in my heels so I'm close to him.

"You tried to kick my a.s.s, remember, DJ? And I beat you b.l.o.o.d.y. I'm pretty sure that nice scar there by your left eye is thanks to me."

I stand and walk away from him and he calls out, "c.u.n.t wh.o.r.e!"

"Do it," I mutter to Nate as I walk past him, and I hear DJ's low grunt, then his head hitting the pavement, when Nate punches him one last time in the face, knocking him out.

"Well, one thing I will say about our nights out, it's never boring." Natalie turns around in the pa.s.senger seat of their Mercedes and looks back at Nate and me.

"No, never boring," I murmur and kiss Nate's bruised and swollen knuckles. "Are you okay?" I ask him.

"I'm fine," he mutters. He won't look me in the face, and aside from me touching him, he's hardly laid a hand on me.

Luke pulls into my driveway and Nate and I get out of the backseat. I lean in Nat's window and kiss her cheek. "Kiss Livie for me. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay. Bye, Nate. You kick major a.s.s." She winks at him, Luke waves at us both, and they pull out of the driveway.

"Let's go in." I walk toward the front porch, but Nate runs a hand through his hair and stands still.

"Maybe I should just go back to the condo tonight."

"What?" I turn back to him, confused and a little scared. "Why?"

He shakes his head and looks at his feet. "You said yourself that one night apart won't kill us."

I'm completely thrown. This cold, distant man is not my Nate.

"I don't want to sleep without you," I whisper and my stomach rolls when he winces and turns away from me.

"Look, Nate, I'm sorry about DJ..." Nate whirls back to me, his gray eyes angry and face taut.

"Don't you apologize for that motherf.u.c.ker, Julianne."

"Okay." I step back and fold my arms over my chest. I don't know what to say. I don't know what's wrong.

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"Okay," I repeat and lick my lips nervously. "So why are you punis.h.i.+ng me?" I ask quietly.

Nate hangs his head, plants his hands on his hips and takes a deep breath. "That's not what I'm trying to do."

"Talk to me, Nate."

"I'm f.u.c.king p.i.s.sed, Jules. Beyond p.i.s.sed. I wanted to keep punching him, over and over, until he was a b.l.o.o.d.y pulp. I have too much adrenaline and anger running through me right now to trust myself to not hurt you. I would never intentionally hurt you, but I'm not feeling gentle." He pushes his fingers through his hair roughly and paces away in frustration.

"Don't run away from me," I throw his words back at him. His back is to me, he's gazing down my dark driveway. "You won't let me run, well back at you, ace. If you're p.i.s.sed, fine. If you're frustrated, fine. But you'll be those things with me, not while running away from me."

We stand like this for what feels like long minutes, but it may only be seconds.

Finally, I hear his low voice. "Why did you ever let that idiot near you?"

"f.u.c.k," I mutter and rub my forehead.

"Seriously, Julianne, I don't get it." He turns around and stares at me, his eyes unreadable.

"Nate it was years ago. Years."

"And?" he raises an eyebrow.

"I used to go to the gym he works at. He was a probably still is a a trainer. I was young and stupid enough to think he was cute. We went out on two dates, Nate, I had s.e.x with him one time, and he went stalker crazy on my a.s.s. I told him I wasn't interested in seeing him again, he raised a fist, and I knocked a couple of those pretty teeth out."

I walk to Nate and reach out to touch him, but he backs away from me.

"Stop this," I whisper.

"You don't understand. It makes me sick that he ever touched you." He runs his hands through his hair again and looks up toward the sky and then back at me. "I know that you weren't innocent when I met you, but I don't ever need to meet anyone that has been inside you. Even if he hadn't been an a.s.shole, I still would have wanted to kick his a.s.s."

"Nate, he means less than nothing to me. You saw that yourself. I told you to kick his a.s.s."

"Yeah, that was new too. I've never asked permission to protect someone before."

So this is what this is about.

"Do you know what it means to me that you had the control to take care of me before you took care of him?" He frowns at me and I keep talking. "You'd never hurt me, babe."

I take a deep breath before I continue. "Besides, I came face-to-face with the woman who still has your last name, Nate. I wanted to pull her heart out of her a.s.shole, and maintained my composure. I won't do it again."

"I told you, I don't have anything to do with her anymore."

I just tilt my head to the side and stare back at him impa.s.sively until he sighs deeply and shakes his head.

"Point taken."

"If I let myself think about the fact that you were married, or think about the women you've been with, Nate, it'll kill me. I refuse to think about it. I'm with you now, and I know I'm the only one with you now, and that's all that matters." I step toward him again and cup his face in my hands, run my fingers through his hair, and he doesn't move away, but he doesn't touch me either.

"Thank you for tonight; for protecting me, and making me feel so loved."

"I do love you," he whispers and I smile up at him, so in love with him.

"I know." I whisper back, and Nate's arms come around me, pulling me into him. He tucks my head under his chin and just hugs me close. I wrap my arms around his torso and cling to him as he rocks me back and forth, kissing my hair.

"So, um, does this mean you'll stay?" I ask and my stomach settles when I feel him chuckle against my cheek.

"Yeah, I'll stay, baby." He kisses my hair once more and I pull back. Nate grips my chin in his fingers and tilts my head back. "You are mine."

A slow smile spreads across my face. "Ditto."

"Jesus you're beautiful."

I'm suddenly cradled in Nate's arms and he's fumbling with the keys, unlocking the front door, and carrying me inside. He sets me down in the foyer, closes and locks the door, and stalks toward me slowly as I back up toward the stairs.

"Do you know what you do to me?" he asks, his voice low and rough, his eyes narrowed and his hands in fists at his sides.

"What?" I ask breathlessly.

"You make me want things I've never wanted before. You make me want you. You make me f.u.c.king hard."

My heels. .h.i.t the bottom step and I climb the stairs slowly, backward, unable to stop looking at him. I get about five steps up when he mutters, "Stop."

He unb.u.t.tons his s.h.i.+rt as he climbs the steps below me and peels it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He reaches the fourth step and is eye level with me. I'm gripping the handrail for balance, mesmerized by his beautiful gray eyes. He's still not touching me, yet my skin is humming in antic.i.p.ation.

"Touch me," I whisper.

He leans in and brushes his lips across mine, lightly, and pulls back again, watching me.

"Please touch me," I whisper again.

His eyes travel from my hair, over my face, down my dress to my shoes and back up again. "Sit on the stairs," he commands.

I frown, and he narrows his eyes. "Sit."

Chapter Twenty Seven.

I lower myself to the stairs and look up into his face, wondering what the f.u.c.k he's going to do next. He unbuckles his belt and opens his slacks, and just when I think he's going to free his c.o.c.k so I can go to work on it, he kneels in front of me.

I feel my eyes widen and roam over this angry, beautiful man. He's kneeling before me, still not touching me.

"Lean back on your elbows," he whispers, and I comply.

"Pull your skirt up around your hips." Again, I comply, and I feel my breathing quicken. I feel completely exposed, because I am, from the waist down. I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't wearing underwear.

Nate's eyes dilate and he sucks in a deep breath. His eyes are narrowed on my p.u.s.s.y, and his hands are flexing in and out of fists, and I know he's dying to touch me.

"Touch me, babe," I whisper.

His molten gray eyes find mine as he reaches up and tucks a stray curl of hair behind my ear, sending s.h.i.+vers down me.