Page 71 of Shifted Desire

Nathan is quiet as we ride the elevator up to his loft, the only sound the repetitive jangling of his keys as he fidgets with them.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and he immediately stops the jangling, fisting the keys and stiffening his posture. “Sorry. Nervous habit,” he offers, clearing his throat.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Something warm spreads in my chest at his acknowledgement that he’s nervous. Because gods, I’m so fucking nervous too.

The workday was busy enough that I didn’t have time to ruminate on our dinner plans, but as soon as we got out of the office building, there’s been a riot of butterflies in my stomach. My hands are so sweaty I’ve been afraid to touch him and leave a damp spot on his fancy suit.

We’re just having dinner together, but my body is treating it like I’m being marched toward an interrogation, and if I don’t find a way to hold on to my resolve, if I break, then I’ll destroy everything.

Normally in moments where I’m anxious or starting to feel too much, I lean into sex, because when you’re fucking, there’s no time to focus on all the things you’re leaving unsaid, and my body is far more confident than my mind. But I can’t do that because I cried on him earlier when I told him to fuck me.

I’m sure that’s the reason we’re having dinner together in the first place. He doesn’t actually want to spend time with me. He feels bad that I’m not mature enough to handle our arrangement. An arrangement that I pushed him into, for fuck’s sake.

Poor man must be so confused.

Dammit, I must be really twisted up if I’m actually feeling bad for a rich, powerful man who is getting sex on demand from me with no strings attached.

The elevator dings as we reach the penthouse, because of course this man lives in a penthouse.

You know what? I actually don’t feel bad at all. If anything, I should be more confusing because…

“Holy shit, this place is huge,” I exclaim as we step out of the elevator and he opens the door at the other side of the small vestibule, revealing a two-story open-concept living room with floor to ceiling windows along the far wall. My words echo as if we’re in a cavern, bouncing off the slate-gray walls.

“I know,” Nathan says, tone slightly apologetic. “I didn’t pick it out.”

I frown at him. “Oh, so you’re the ‘get someone to look at apartments and figure all the moving shit out’ kind of rich. Hells, I should’ve asked for four times the original salary.”

He snorts. “I doubt that would’ve been cleared by HR.”

I run a finger along an expensive-looking crystal cube sitting on a table by the entryway. “Fine, then I could’ve extorted you for more money from your personal funds.”

Nathan shrugs, a hint of a smile twisting his lips. “Yes, you could’ve.”

Grinning at his sass, I walk a finger up his tie. “It’s never too late for a bit of extortion. What do you say to one-hundred grand?”

He places his hand over mine, and I fight not to show how my pulse leaps at his touch. It speeds up even more when he brings my hand up to his lips for a kiss.

“Sure.”

“Dammit, you agreed to that too fast! I could’ve asked for more.”

His grin is wicked as he moves his lips to my wrist, the feather-light kiss making sparks dance across my skin. “You’re not very good at assessing your worth, Samantha.” There’s a flash of molten gold in his eyes, as if his wolf is trying to push its way to the forefront. “I told you earlier I’d give you anything.”

My knees go weak, like I’m about to swoon like a goddamn damsel or protagonist in a rom-com, and I shove the warm, gooey, far too romantic feelings down with a forced laugh, stepping back.

“Okay, I want a yacht.”

“What the hells are you going to do with a yacht?”

“Sails the open seas? Take up a life of piracy? I’d figure it out.”

Nathan chuckles. “Hmm, you would look good as a pirate queen. Especially in your other form.”

His flirty tone has my senses buzzing again, but I try to shut it down. According to him, we didn’t come here to have sex, so we’re not going to. At least not until after the obligatory dinner to soothe his guilt about not being a good dom yesterday.

“You’ve never seen my other form,” I huff.

“True. But I’ve imagined it.” He steps behind me to help me out of my coat, his fingertips brushing against my bare arms as he pulls it down.