8 - Anastasia.

I’m speechless as we pull up to Nate’s Malibu home and the gate opens to reveal the most spectacular house I’ve ever seen overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I can see him glance over at me out of the corner of my eye, but I can’t even look back at him. Not yet. I’m doing my best to process everything that’s happening, and all I can do right now is keep my eyes forward and focus on what’s in front of me.

“And I bet you thought Emerson’s apartment was nice,” he remarks as he pulls down the driveway to the enormous front door made from some exotic, dark wood.

“I…yeah,” I mutter, in absolute awe. The house is modern and white, but not cold and foreboding like many I’ve seen when doing wish-I-lived-here tours of Beverly Hills and Malibu. It’s tasteful and welcoming and gives off a rich, beachy vibe like somewhere you’d spend a perpetual vacation.

“Come inside,” Nate says. “I’ll give you the tour.”

“I-okay,” I reply, managing to turn to him and smile. He smiles back, gets out of the car, and goes around to my side to open my door for me. Again, he holds out his hand for me to take and helps me out. “Thank you.”

His panty-melting grin nearly takes me off my feet. “My pleasure, gorgeous.”

I feel completely underdressed as he thumbs a small black pad on the wall, and the massive door swings open to let us inside. He’s in a suit that probably cost thousands of dollars, and I’m wearing sweatpants and a sweater inside a house fit for the most famous of celebrities.

As we step into the foyer and gaze out across the tasteful paintings adorning the walls and the elegant furnishings, Nate still has my hand in his. The realization causes me to go hotter than I already was. I’m melting inside and absolutely dripping between my legs. His hand is rougher than what I’d expect from a lawyer and filled with strength. Such strength that it makes me feel safer than I’ve ever felt in my life.

I look up, see him looking down at me, and instantly look away and out a wall of glass at the ocean.

“Is that the ocean?” I ask like an idiot.

“It sure is,” Nate replies. He doesn’t make fun of me, but I can see him suppressing a smirk as he walks through the house and out to an enormous deck jutting out over the beach, pulling me along with him.

I swallow hard. Why has he brought me here? He could have the entire Victoria’s Secret line-up here all lounging around in swimsuits drinking mimosas. Instead, he has me wearing this terrible outfit looking like I just rolled out of bed.

“I feel like I should have brought something nice,” I admit. “Something nicer to wear.”

“Don’t be silly,” Nate scolds me gently. “Mi casa es su casa. You don’t have to try to impress me, Anastasia, you’ve already done that. But if you don’t like what you have on…” he says softly, teasing the hem of my sweater with his index finger. “You don’t have to keep it on.”

My stomach goes tight. My heart skips a beat, and I struggle not to literally leap back and make some kind of terrified girly noise. Because that’s what I am right now: absolutely terrified, but also hopelessly turned on.

How could my night do such a total one-eighty? To go from the nightmare of an encounter with Emerson to this? It’s like being told you’re being evicted and then an hour later winning one hundred million dollars.

“I…it’s not the greatest sweater,” I manage to reply, looking back at him, his handsome face framed by the final rays of the sun just vanishing over the horizon.

“Oh, I think it’s all right,” he replies. “I just think what’s underneath it probably looks a thousand times better.”

Every nerve in my body seems to spark at the same time, causing me to feel like I’ve lit up like a Christmas tree. My jaw drops. I must look like a helpless little puppy as I gaze up at him, slowly nod, and raise my arms up above my head. Nate doesn’t hesitate.

He takes my sweater at the hem with both hands and lifts it up and off with one fluid motion. I’m not wearing a bra and don’t know how I manage to not pass out as I stand there topless before him as his eyes scour my half-naked body.

“See?” He smiles. “I knew it. So much better.”

“Yeah…?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nods. “I know you don’t seem to like your mom much, but you should thank her for those, gorgeous, because those are absolute perfection.”

He leans in, and his hands close around my breasts, the rough callused skin pressing against my hard nipples as a groan rises from his chest. His thumbs trace my curves with just the right amount of pressure, sending a shiver up my spine. Until now, I’ve been wonderfully terrified of this man, but now the need to be closer takes over, and I take a delicate step forward and press my body against his.

He doesn’t move. Not even a centimeter. He stands tall and unyielding like a statue imbedded deep into the earth. His strength causes my excitement to rise even more, like lava ready to erupt from a volcano.

Nate reaches up to the lapels of his suit coat and pulls, then extends his arms and lets the coat fall to the floor of the deck. He takes my wrists and guides my hands to the top button of his shirt.

“Do them for me.”

God, he’s so sexy. Smiling, I slowly unbutton his shirt, revealing two perfectly sculpted pectoral muscles, with just the right amount of chest hair. I’m so in awe I almost have to stop, but I keep going, exposing chiseled abs that take my breath away. I let my eyes explore his physique as my body begins to tingle all over. I’m flushed with anticipation.

“Good girl.” His voice is like cold, hard steel. “Now why don’t we get rid of these?”

He hooks two thumbs into the band of my sweatpants and pulls. I gasp as they catch on my hipbones and I feel the teasing coolness of the evening breeze against places on my body I’ve never had exposed around a man.