Chapter 105

The One Where He’s Najjad

(Her Protector And Saviour)

NATE

As I finish doing up the buttons to my dress shirt—leaving the top two undone—I’m about to grab the zip to my fly to pull it up when I hear my name being called. It echoes through the bathroom Arielle and I share and I immediately drop everything I’m doing, sauntering through the joint space and into Arielle’s room.

As I do so, I see that she isn’t done getting dressed and my mouth instantly dries. However, I try to be respectful, inquiring, “Yeah?”

“Can you zip me?” Arielle asks, spinning so her back faces me.

She clutches the dress to her chest, keeping it from falling to the floor in a heap. The only thing she’s wearing underneath is a black thong, exposed to me with the back of her dress wide open. In fact, she hasn’t even attempted to zip up what she surely should be able to, which makes me think she’s doing this on purpose—part of her plan to tease and torment the fuck out of me.

Approaching her, I stop close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off her body, my breath fanning across the bare skin of her back. The curve of her spine is incredibly erotic from this angle, especially when she reaches to gather her hair, pulling it to her shoulder.

I use my left hand to grab the fabric at the base of the zip on the swell of her ass, pulling the material taut. Grabbing the fastener in my right hand, I begin the ascent, purposefully going slow in my movement. Her back is her turn on spot and I deliberately drag my knuckle along her skin, smirking in triumph as she squirms lightly, goosebumps appearing across her flesh.

As I reach the top of the zip—just between her shoulder blades—I lean forward to press a lingering kiss to the space at the base of her neck. She smells so good, looks so fucking beautiful as always, that it’s hard as fuck to pull away.

However, since I rose from the dead, that’s probably the first time I’ve initiated proper physical touch between us. I’ve been doing my best to keep my touching to a minimum and allowing her to start anything, but it’s getting harder and harder. I find myself getting so comfortable around her that I forget we’ve got shit going on.

“Thank you,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. I can see I’ve had a reaction on her, despite barely touching her.

“Care to return the favour?” She spins to face me as I ask the question and I point at the fly of my pants, which I haven’t done up yet.

She laughs, nonetheless, stepping forward to grab the zipper of my fly. I suck in my breath as she leans in close, her hands brushing against my clothed cock.

Fuck, maybe this wasn’t the brightest idea.

She yanks it up a hurry and fastens the button on my slacks, “D’you need help tucking the shirt in too?”

“I mean, if you’re offering—”

Before I can finish my teasing sentence, she’s got her fingers in the waistband of my slacks and uses the hold to pull me even closer to her. She tucks the fabric under my pants, our eyes locked on one another’s, even when she adjusts the front, pushing it deep past my waist.

When she’s done, she reaches upwards and undoes two more buttons on my shirt. She then presses her palms to the white fabric, smoothing it over my chest as she stares at the tattoos she’s exposed by doing so.

“Perfect,” she comments, walking away from me to sit herself on the edge of her bed. Arielle reaches for her heels—which have some sort of complicated looking straps—struggling to put them on in her dress, which is not only short, but tight.

I step towards her, grabbing one shoe. Gently, I wrap my fingers around her right ankle and I slowly lift it as she settles backwards on the bed. She lays back on her elbows as I lift her bare leg to my chest and I slip the shoe on her foot. She presses the heel flat to my chest, observing as I begin to tie up the straps, moving around and in a crisscross pattern up the smoothness of her leg. It’s intensely erotic as I tie the bow and then we do the same with the left foot.

The tension between us is nearly suffocating. It’s been building for weeks now—when it was already so intense—that I honestly don’t know how much longer either one of us will last. I’ll give it to her, though, she seems fucking determined to make sure I suffer as much as possible.

Can’t lie though, I fucking love the tease.

She places her feet to the floor and I extend a hand, helping her up. She saunters to the dresser to grab her handbag and I’m finally able to appreciate what she’s wearing. It’s a navy blue short-hemmed dress, reaching just past her ass. It’s tight, and has a draped, off the shoulder look that highlights her collarbones beautifully. With her heels, she’s nearly my height.

She’s painted some makeup on her face—dark on her eyelids that draws attention to her stunning eyes. She has half her hair pulled off her face, the strands in soft waves, like usual.

She checks herself out in the mirror and I act before I think, stepping towards her and I stop only when my chest meets her back and my arms wrap around her waist where my palms press flat to her lower stomach. My mouth finds the arch of her neck and I peer up from under my eyelashes to meet her gaze in the mirror, “You look fuckin’ magnificent, babygirl.”

Arielle leans backwards into me, angling her neck as an inaudible way of encouraging me to continue. As I’m pressing my mouth to her skin, inhaling her sweet scent, she places a hand over one of mine, the other one reaching up to brush along the stubble on the side of my head.

“You look really fuckin’ good, too.”

She shudders as I press a kiss to the pulse point at the base of her throat. Meeting her eyes in the reflection of the mirror again, I’m reminded of when we first met—the time when I dressed her up in a skirt and heels and fucked her in front of the standup mirror in her bedroom at home.

I think she’s thinking about it too, because I notice the slight shift as she presses her thighs together. I wet my lips at the sight, my eyes trailing to find the necklace with my name wrapped around her neck. I gently tuck a finger under the chain, tracing along it and past her collarbone.

I’m about the press my mouth to the curve of her neck again, when I hear a distant knocking sound. I don’t have to investigate because not sixty seconds later, there’s a knock at Arielle’s door and Chase is shouting through the surface that the car is here to take us to the club.

And then I’m forced to observe Arielle walk out of the room in heels that I want digging into my back while I fuck her until she’s screaming out my name.

Turns out the nightclub isn’t simply a nightclub, which Zara failed to inform all of us. In fact, it’s actually a combination of a nightclub and strip club. It’s an interesting concept, but it clearly works because the place is fucking packed. Apparently when we’d landed here, Chase had found out about this place rather quickly, so Zara managed to call ahead and score us a private room.

Though it’s enclosed, it has its own pole in the middle. It also has one-way glass that allows us to observe the main room, along with the current dancer on the head stage, without the rest of the crowd being able to peer inside.

To add to it, we have bottle service, so the waiters and waitresses have been coming around frequently. At this point, Chase is already plastered, so are Jin and Nadia. James seems to be pacing himself. Arielle is tipsy. Zara and I seem to have the same idea because both of us aren’t drinking much. I’ve had a few, but the more Arielle drinks, the less I want to.

Only because I want to make sure she’s safe.

Currently, she’s on the tiny stage in our room, her hands wrapped around the pole as she belts out the song echoing around us. She sways her hips, crouching right down to shake her ass. She looks beautiful, sexy, and carefree and it’s making me have a hard time controlling myself.

God help the first person to look at her for more than five seconds because I’m feeling territorial as fuck. I’m afraid I’ll draw blood before I allow anyone else to appreciate her in the way I am. With the same thoughts that are racing through my mind right now.