Sean listened, patiently, silently, doing little more than stroking her arm and holding her. That was okay. She didn’t want him to answer; she just needed someone to listen.
The food arrived. They sat on the floor and ate. They drank. They talked. About everything. About nothing. And when Nicki grew silent and her head rested against the sofa, her eyes closing as the exhaustion finally overtook her, she was vaguely aware of Sean gathering her into his arms and tucking her into his bed.
Then he kissed her lightly on the forehead and closed the door softly behind him.
––––––––
Nicki could feel him watching her as she perched in the deep window sill, waiting for dawn to break over the horizon. His gaze was unlike that of any she had ever known; it was a physical thing. She could feel it even now, winding around her as plainly as if he had cocooned her against him.
Each look had its own distinct feel, she was learning. When he was angry, his eyes flashed, each one like a slap, followed by the sensation of a vice closing around you. When he was playful, his eyes danced, giving her little tickling caresses across her skin. And when he was sexually aroused, which seemed to be most of the time, she could vividly imagine his tongue laving its way over the most sensitive parts of her body while other, harder parts of him pressed against her, the taste of him from the single, searing kiss they’d shared bursting in her mouth.
Not for the first time, she wondered if he had this effect on every woman he met, or if she was somehow special. Nicki gave herself a mental shake. She was turning into such a sap.
Everything about him screamed alpha male, calling out to her female instincts at the most basic of levels. So dark, so intense, and with a sexual pull stronger than gravity. And she certainly wasn’t alone in this. She would have to be blind not to notice the attention he drew from anything lacking a Y chromosome.
He’s gorgeous. And he’s probably had more women in his bed than I could count. Then another little voice said, Funny. He probably thinks the same thing about you.
Well, he wouldn’t be the first.
It wasn’t such a bad thing, really. That assumption kept the nice ones away, and she had no use for the nice ones. They always thought they could change her, “fix” her, as if she was some leaky faucet or squeaky door. They meant well, most of them, but Nicki had no desire to be worked on. Sadly, some things just couldn’t be fixed. The best you could do was hope to cover up the damage and keep people far enough away that they wouldn’t notice all of the little cracks and defects that led to the total devastation within.
It was remarkably easy to keep people at bay. As long as they felt like they’d made an honest effort, they could rest easy at night, knowing that they had at least tried. Then they’d leave her alone and she’d be fine until the next Good Samaritan came along.
Sean Callaghan was proving to be a little more tenacious than most. He kept coming back. Did he want to fix her, too, she wondered? Or did he just want to fuck her?
Probably the latter, her practical side said. Men like Sean were used to getting what they wanted, no matter how sweet or attentive he was being at the moment. Everything was a means to an end in his world; nothing was done without purpose. They were very much alike in that respect. She’d do just about anything to achieve her goals as well.
The more she ran from him, the harder he’d pursue her until he got what he wanted. It was all about the chase for him, the conquest. Getting something he couldn’t have. And once he did, the thrill would be gone. He’d have no further use for her.
But wasn’t that what she wanted? To be left alone? All she had to do was give in, give him what he desired, and, if she was honest, what she desired, too. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? He certainly seemed like the kind of man who had some serious skills. They could pleasure each other, an erotic dance of give and take that would leave them both sated, and then they could move on, right?
No. It was a lie, no matter how she tried to dress it up or rationalize it away. She could feel the ice already melting around her heart a little, and that was a bad thing. Sean would hurt her. Really hurt her.
Not in the physical sense; those wounds didn’t last long anyway. Bones mended. Bruises faded. Wounds closed. But heart damage? That shit stuck with you forever. And if she ever slept with Sean Callaghan – for any reason – she’d be laying herself out in the open for total annihilation. Because he was different.
She could actually feel herself changing around him. Thinking crazy thoughts, like how maybe she wouldn’t have to shoulder everything alone. That maybe she was more than a quick fuck or permanently damaged goods. That she could have a life with someone like him. And that terrified her more than anything.