A Bitch In Time (Marina: Part One: Naughty Nookie Series) by Serena Akeroyd

his, Nathan Conroy had the job. 
Light gold striations had washed out the vibrant green with a color that I
could only describe as being similar to lightly brewed chamomile tea. 
Cat’s eyes.  He’d pinned me to the spot that day and I’d left the interview
wishing he’d pinned me to the table and…
    At the memory, my lips twitch
and unsurprisingly, I don’t feel cooler.  Turning the air con down another
few centigrades, I walk the length of the room.  I pass a low cabinet
sheltering the scavenged mini bar —hey, a girl has to have a midnight feast
every now and then!— and one of those annoying metal clothes frames as well as
a TV suspended on a bracket.   Every time I stride past, the closed
curtains swish and let in slithers of light.
    I’m in a weird mood.  I
can’t deny it.  Thoughts of returning to a place I’ve avoided don’t
help.  Plus, relief at knowing I’m going to see Nathan soon is making me
edgy.
    It’s hard, but I make myself
go to the bed and sit down.  Maybe a nap will take this uneasiness
away?  Or maybe only Nathan can do that?
     
    *****
     
    The instant I awaken, I know
he’s there.  The concierge must have given him the key like I’d
requested. 
    Something inside me sighs with
relief to know he’s more than just in the same city as me; he’s actually in the
same bed.
    A part of me wants to wake him
up, chide him for not awakening me the instant he arrived, but he’s that kind
of guy.  How he hasn’t been snapped up is beyond me.  I guess it
could be his disability, but any woman who sees that before acknowledging the
rest of the man… well, she deserves to miss out.  Nate is so much more
than a label.
    Things are different now,
because the IQ Commune developed a bionic hand for him to wear that
gives him a huge chunk of his motility back.  But prior to the development
of the unique prosthetic, something that’s about to rake in millions for the
genius farm, he has only ever worn the false limb in the city.
    Out on the range, he’d never
worn one.  Yet I’ve never seen him without the false limb during our stays
in Chicago.  Before the bionic hand, he’d never worn one with me in
private either.  And I think that’s telling.  He realizes I’m not
freaked out by his disability and he can be himself, be comfortable.  At
ease.
    I like that.  Nate is a
hard man to pin down.   I mean that figuratively and literally. 
A grin stretches my lips apart and I turn my mouth to brush his bicep, as I
curl into him and wrap an arm about his waist.
    He’s difficult to control,
even if I’m on top, riding cowgirl, he never lets me stay there for long. 
    But my actual point, of
pinning Nathan Conroy down, revolved around the emotional sense.  I never
really know what he’s thinking but I do know he likes his freedom, which is
fortunate, because I do too. 
    That being said, I consider
myself in a relationship with him.  I’m faithful to him and I know Nate is
to me.  The distance separating us doesn’t mean our relationship is any
different to a regular couple.  It just means the sex is hotter.
    My grin makes another
appearance but this time, it doesn’t go unnoticed.  With a yawn mangling
the words, Nate mutters, “What are you smiling about?”
    “I’ll let you know once you
wake up.” 
    His body tenses, the muscles
jolting in reaction to my words.  My grin disappears to be replaced with a
smug twitch of my lips and my hand, with a life of its own, wanders down the
naked expanse of taut belly towards the deliciously sinewed hips.  I’ve
always been a sucker for obliques, those delicious muscles that form a
delineated ‘V’ towards a man’s cock, and they’re like ridges on Nate’s lower
abdomen.  My own belly clenches at the thought and I stay the path of my
hand.  Within seconds, I’m on my knees, pushing the thin sheet out of the
way and I’m astride Nate’s lower thighs. 
    “Turn on the light,” I order,
wanting to see him spread