Ellie giggled at me. Joss did not.

"You're lucky I like you, Olivia Holloway."

I grinned at her and replied meaningfully, "Don't I know it."

She flicked her gaze up at me. "I can't be crabby when you're being cute."

"And my genius plan works."

Joss snorted and then immediately clamped a hand over her mouth.

We waited as she took deep breaths until finally she turned to us. "I'm fine." She moved over to the table in the corner and settled into a chair. "Those mojitos are definitely not working for me."

Without having to be asked, Ellie poured Joss a glass of water and we joined her at the table. To my chagrin, the first thing Ellie said was, "So? Dougie. Yes?"

"No. I'm . . ." I shrugged, deciding to give them a little of the truth. "There's a guy at the library. I like him."

Ellie grinned, curiosity sparking bright in her pale eyes. "Fair enough. Do you work with him?"

"He's a student. Postgrad." My tone said, "I don't want to talk about it" and, surprisingly, Ellie let it go.

Instead of giving me the Spanish inquisition on him, she asked, "How is work?"

"Good. It'll be hard to get promoted but, you know, it's a good atmosphere and I like my colleagues. I don't think I'll be leaving anytime soon. What about you?"

"I've almost finished my PhD and the university is discussing giving me a year contract with them as a course lecturer. They're impressed with me and my thesis, so they pulled me aside yesterday to let me know that they're considering me."

Ellie was a scholar in art history. I didn't know much about it, but I did know that she'd dreamed of a career in academia just like her stepdad, Clark, so this was huge news.

"You didn't tell me that," Joss said softly, delicately picking at a sandwich.

Ellie shrugged modestly. "I wasn't sure whether to mention it or not in case it falls through."

"It won't, Els," Joss replied firmly. "I'm proud of you."

"Me too."

She smiled gratefully at us. "Thanks."

"It means I'll probably be consulting with you on research materials for the library."

"Yup. Maybe you can point out Library Guy while I'm there."

I nodded, then took a large gulp of my mojito. Why, when I thought of Benjamin, did I no longer feel butterflies and a rush of possibility?

CHAPTER16.

I was happy.

Truly, peacefully, happy.

And I had no intention of analyzing it.

Analyzing it was sure to kill all the happy.

Lying with my head on a cushion, my legs stretched out across Nate's lap, I looked at him out of the corner of my eye as he watched the movie and absentmindedly stroked my ankle.

Our sexual relationship had only escalated over the last two weeks, until nearly all of my inhibitions were gone. Sex with Nate was easy. I didn't feel self-conscious. I wasn't constantly worrying if I was doing it wrong.

My confidence had grown, yet still I was avoiding Benjamin. Instead I was lost in this world of sex and laughter and fun with Nate. We still hung out, but now it was intermingled with sexy time.

Freakin' awesome sexy time.

We never hung out at Nate's-I'd never even seen his place-because he said he preferred my apartment, so he often used the key I had given him. Today I was especially pleased to come home and find him on my couch, eating my potato chips and watching TV. I'd just had "the dinner" with Dee that Dad had suggested a few weeks ago, and up until I saw Nate in my space I'd been feeling a little raw.

I bent to kiss his temple to let him know I was happy to see him and then I got changed into a silky nightdress Nate had bought me. When I came back into the room he took one look at my face and patted the couch beside him. I sat down and let him enfold me in a hug.

"You okay?" he asked, pressing a kiss to my hair.

"It was just . . . It's fine. We just talked about Mom. It always takes it out of me."

In response he cuddled me for a while. It felt wonderful.

Nate's phone buzzed on the table and I pulled my legs off his lap so he could reach it. He flicked the screen, his eyebrows drawing together as he read the text message he'd just received.

"Everything okay?"

"It's Cam," he murmured. "I think he's getting suspicious. Wondering why I'm busy all the time."

"Just tell him you're busy getting busy. He doesn't need to know who with."

"I've been getting busy so much lately, he's bound to know it must be with just one woman and he'll want to know who. Even I can't find a new sexual partner every day."

"We're not having sex every day."

"Almost."

I shrugged, acquiescing to the truth. "Fine. But we're trying to cram years of experience into a few weeks here."

Nate grinned and suddenly grabbed my ankles, pulling me down the couch before crawling over me. "I know, it's so exhausting," he teased. "I'm utterly sick of it."

He was so sick of it he yanked my nightie off and sat back to pull his shirt off and unbuckle his jeans. My thighs were already quivering with excitement as he pulled my panties off and threw them over his shoulder.

The apartment was soon filled with my pleading whimpers as he buried his head between my legs and brought me to climax with his tongue. I was barely coherent when he suddenly gripped the backs of my calves to lift my legs over his shoulders.

This was new.

His lips grazed mine. "You'll feel me so deep this way, baby. Hold on."

"Nate!" I cried out, feeling every inch of him as he pumped in and out of me.

He was right. His cock thrust in at the most beautiful angle and the pressure inside me was building, building, building- "Ahh!" I yelled, clamping a hand around my thigh and gritting my teeth in pain.

"What? What?!" Nate stopped, panic in his voice. "Liv?"

"I've got a leg cramp," I whimpered.

Nate immediately pulled out of me, his panting sounding really loud in the small room. "Which one?"

"My left," I managed to answer through the ugly discomfort.

Nate coasted his hand up my leg and found the cramping muscle in the back of my thigh. My fingers bit into the couch as he began to massage it for me.

After a while the cramp began to ease, and as Nate felt the tension start to drain out of me the couch started to shake a little with his laughter.

Mortification instantly hit me.

I got a leg cramp during hot sex.

That was not cool. That was not sexy.

Blushing furiously, I slapped my hands over my face. "Oh, God."

Nate laughed harder.

I was so embarrassed that I was on the verge of tears. I sat up, ducked my head, and pushed him off me.

"Liv." No longer laughing, Nate grabbed for me, but I pushed harder, trying to crawl past him. "Olivia."

"Get. Off." I shoved an elbow in his stomach, but that just made him fight harder. And he was stronger than me. In a tangle of shoving limbs I ended up flat on my stomach, the left side of my face pressed into the couch and my hands held captive above my head.

Nate kissed my cheek. "Will you calm down, please?"

"I'm humiliated," I whispered, closing my eyes.

I felt Nate's chest on my back as he rested his chin on my shoulder, his lips close to mine. "Why would you be humiliated? Fuck, Liv, it's just me."

I shrugged, not very successfully, against his weight. "I took leg cramp. Interrupting sexy time."

"Babe"-humor entered his voice-"please don't make me laugh, because I'm sensing laughter is not good right now."

I glared at his mouth. "You'd be right."

"It was funny, though." He kissed my cheek again. "And not funny in the way that you should be humiliated. Just funny. The Liv I know can laugh at herself."

I pushed my face into the cushion as if it would somehow hide me. "I guess I'm just still not confident about this stuff."

"What? You think a bit of leg cramp will turn me off you?"

I half shrugged again.

Nate's weight lifted from my back, but as he sat up his hands gripped my hips. He jerked my body up so I had to bend my knees to steady myself. I rested on my elbows, the breath whooshing out of me as I stared at him over my shoulder. "What are you doing?"

He caressed my ample bottom, his eyes filled with a dark intensity as his knees nudged my knees apart. Without a word he slid inside me.

I gasped, watching as he closed his eyes as if savoring the feel of me. He pulled back and this time he slammed into me. I bit out a cry, watching as his eyes opened, his grip practically bruising on my hips. Through clenched teeth, he asked, "Does this feel like I don't want you?"

I reared against him, silently begging for more. "No." I shook my head, and then arched back as he thrust into me. Just like that, Nate began to screw the mortification right out of me.

My head fell forward, my hair spilling across the couch, my cries mingling with Nate's grunts as he rocked into me with increasing desperation. When his movements suddenly slowed, thus delaying my encroaching orgasm, I glanced over my shoulder at him through the strands of my wild hair. "Why?" I moaned.

"I want to feel you," he responded, his voice rough as his hand slid up the damp skin of my stomach. The pressure of his hold forced me back against his chest, changing the angle of him inside me.

"Nate." I sighed in pleasure, my head resting against his shoulder.

He cupped my breast lovingly in his right hand while his other tickled back down my stomach. My hips jerked in reaction to the press of his fingers against my clit. As he worked me with his fingers, he began to work me again with his cock.

I moved against him, finding rhythm to his sensuous torture, sliding up and down on his dick, feeling out of my mind with sensation. I wrapped my arm behind me, my fingers biting into the back of his shoulder as I held on to him for dear life.

"This is me and you," he panted, driving faster and harder into me. "Don't ever run. Not from me."

"Okay." I shook my head against his shoulder. "Okay."

He stilled his fingers on my clit. "Promise me."

"Nate, don't stop, don't stop," I whispered hurriedly. "Please, I'm so close. I'm so close."

He rocked up into me and stilled.

"Nate!" I keened, my hands dropping to his hips, gripping him behind me. "Please!"

"Promise me. Tell me you won't run." He bit my ear, the nip almost painful. "Tell me you won't run from me ever. And then beg me to fuck you."

My brain was too busy firing neurons for me to even question it. "I won't ever run from you," I gasped, urging my ass down on his lap. "Now please, please fuck me. Make me come."

Suddenly I was on my stomach, Nate's chest to my back, his animalistic grunts and growls filling my ears as he thrust into me over and over, pounding me into the couch, and pounding me toward an orgasm that blew my head off.

My scream of release filled the apartment, muffled only somewhat by Nate's own hoarse shout as he came at the first clench of my climax.