No Attachments - By Tiffany King Page 0,49

god," I mumbled. "Well, everyone knows now," I said, sagging against the bathroom doorway.

"And that's bad?" he asked, approaching me and placing his hands on my hips.

"People will talk," I said.

"Most people do. That's why we have tongues," he teased. "Does it bother you that it's with me, or just that people will know we had sex?"

"The sex," I said, trying not to blush. "For fuck's sake. I'm twenty-two and acting like 'sex' is a bad word."

"Honey, we're two consenting adults. They can say whatever they want," he said, dropping a kiss on my jaw. "Now, hurry and get ready," he bossed, shooing me through the bathroom door.

"You're not the boss of me," I muttered, closing the door in his face. "I'll take as long as I want," I called through the door for good measure. I could hear him chuckling as he headed out of my room. Despite my arguments, I hurried through my morning rituals. My hair was thrown up on top of my head in a messy bun and my make-up was kept to a minimum with just eyeliner and a light layer of foundation. The only task I didn't rush through was brushing my teeth. Brushing them once didn't seem sufficient, so I proceeded to brush them again after I had flossed and rinsed my mouth with mouthwash. Running my tongue over my squeaky-clean teeth, I smiled in satisfaction before smoothing on a layer of lip gloss.

Five minutes later, I left my room dressed in another heavy sweater and a pair of skinny jeans.

Nathan was in the process of taking a sip of coffee when I entered the living room. He froze with the cup halfway to his lips, studying me intensely.

"What?" I asked, doing a quick check to make sure my zipper was up and that my hair wasn't suddenly standing on end.

He didn't answer, but instead walked over to where I stood.

"You didn't say where we were going, so I figured casual was the best route…" I trailed off as he cupped a hand around my neck and dragged my mouth to his. I opened my mouth to his demands, not sure what the kiss meant. If it was possible, the kiss felt different than the others we had shared. It felt raw and almost primal as he assaulted my mouth. My body's response was quick and instantaneous.

"What was that?" I asked when he finally pulled back, breathing heavily.

"That was my way of telling you that you look positively edible dressed like that."

"Not that I'm complaining, but you've seen me in jeans and a sweater before," I pointed out.

"Not with your hair pulled up and glistening lips that would tempt anyone to sample them," he said.

"It's just a messy bun," I practically purred as his lips moved to my ear, making goose bumps pop up on my arms.

"Trust me, it's hot as hell," he said.

"Well, I'm glad you like it, and thanks for getting me all hot and bothered now too with your assault on my mouth," I said as he stepped up behind me.

"Say it again," he whispered in my ear, wrapping his arms around my stomach to pull me flush against him.

"I'm glad you like it?" I asked, smiling at him through the mirror.

"What? No. Got you all hot and bothered," he clarified.

"You need an ego stroke?" I teased.

"It strokes something, sweetheart, just not my ego," he stated. "Which, at the moment, will have to be put on hold because I have plans for us."

"Am I dressed warm enough?"

"Yeah, it doesn't feel nearly as cold as it was yesterday. All the locals I talked with today claim this is the last warm day before winter sneaks in. I guess a cold front is moving in this evening, and after that, summer and even fall will be forgotten. I'm not entirely sure how they can be so adamant about it, but I guess if you've lived here all your life, you'd know the weather better than a couple Southerners. I figured we better seize the opportunity while we had it," he said, guiding me out the front door.

The sun was shining bright when we stepped outside. I relished the warmth of it, and after the bone chilling rain from the previous evening, the heat felt heavenly. There was still a slight breeze, but it didn't cut through you like yesterday. These were the days we lived for back home, but they were far and few between. Humidity and heat indexes made up eighty