Until Nico

Chapter 5
Sophie
“Hey, you need to wake up.”
The voice close to my ear makes me scream out, and I roll away and sit up, looking around and not recognizing where I am. Then my eyes land on Nico, and last night comes back to me. I flop back down on the bed and cover my face with my hands while trying to get my heart back under control.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, but your alarm has been going off for the last twenty minutes.”
I uncover my face, look over at Nico, and inhale deeply. He’s only wearing a pair of loose basketball shorts. His whole body is perfect—from his defined arms, the expanse of his wide chest, his abs, and the deep V leading into his shorts.
“You were working out?” I ask like an idiot, seeing sweat covering his entire torso.
He smirks, running a hand over his head. “Yeah. I needed to burn off some pent-up energy,” he says, and I see his eyes drop to my breasts, watching as they heat before meeting mine again. “Looks like I’m going to be working out a lot,” he mumbles.
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Daisy decides then to crawl out from under the covers, where she slept the whole night. When she finally wiggles free, she runs back and forth between the two of us before deciding that she wants Nico. I watch as he lifts her to his face just far enough away that she can’t reach him with her tongue, and then he flips her to her back and holds her against his chest like a baby so he can rub her belly. I swear I can hear music playing and see little hearts dancing around my head with how swoon-worthy he is standing there with his tiny dog who, I can tell without a doubt, he adores. I never thought I would be jealous of a dog, but what I wouldn’t give to have him pet me like that.
“You hungry?”
“A little. What time is it?” I mumble, distracted by his abs.
“Just after seven.”
“Oh, shit!” I yell, throwing back the covers and hopping out of bed. “I have to get ready for work or I’m going to be late.” I run to the end of the bed to grab my bag and make a run for the bathroom when I’m tugged backwards. I look back and see Nico with his hand around the strap of my bag.
“You can get ready as soon as you tell me good morning.”
“Oh, sorry. Morning,” I say in a rush, trying to tug free.
“Tell me good morning with your mouth, Sophie.” The command in his voice has a tingle building between my legs, and I watch nervously as he puts Daisy down on the ground.
“What?” I breathe, and he laughs, pulling me closer with his hand on my bag.
“Kiss me, Sophie.”
“Oh. I need to brush my teeth,” I say, looking at his lips.
“No, you need to kiss me,” he says, tugging until I’m standing in front of him.
I fidget there for a second, just looking at him, not really sure how to do this but surprisingly wanting to. Then I remember that movie with Will Smith, when he tells the guy that, if he’s going to kiss someone, he should only lean in halfway and make the other person close the distance. I drop my bag, stand on my tiptoes, lean in my half, and close my eyes. When nothing happens, I open one eye and then the other.
“Good girl,” he says before his mouth comes down on mine in a light kiss that makes my insides flutter. “I always want you to know it’s me kissing you,” he says against my mouth.
“How could I not?” I say without thinking.
I groan and start to look at the ground when his hands circle my neck, his thumbs going under my chin to tilt my head back. His face lowers to mine, his tongue touches my bottom lip, and I lean closer, my hands landing on his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under my palms. My mouth opens, and he groans when my tongue touches his. I’m so lost in the kiss that I whimper when he pulls his mouth from mine.
“That’s how I want you to say good morning.” His hands travel down to mine, which are still on his chest, and he grabs them to pull them back behind his neck. Then his hands travel down along my sides and to my waist, pulling my hips closer to his.
“I have to get ready for work,” I say softly, my hands running up the back of his longer hair to run it through my fingers.
His hands palm my ass, pulling me even closer to him. “I like you here,” he says as his fingers travel up the back of my tank and run along my back. I like it here too. I don’t know what this is, but I like it, and I want more. “You get off at six, right?” he asks. It takes a second for me to answer; the warmth of his skin, his scent, and the way his hands feel on me all have my body buzzing with something I’ve never felt before. “You wanna have dinner at your house or mine?”
“Are you going to cook?” I ask, tilting my head to the side studying his face.
“Of course,” he says, nipping my neck and making my breath hitch.
“I really need to get ready for work,” I say again, my hands going down the back of his neck from his shoulders to his chest.
“I really don’t want to let you go, but I know you need to get ready,” he says, bringing his face to mine and kissing me once more on the mouth before turning me around to face the bathroom; he pats my ass, sending me on my way.
I walk into the bathroom before remembering I left my bag. I go back out to grab it, and he has it in his hand, holding it out to me with a smirk on his face.
“Thanks,” I say, reaching out to take it. I squeak out when he drops the bag, grabs my hand, and pulls me back to him, hearing the thud at the same time his mouth lands on mine. His hands go to my ass, lifting me closer to him, and this time, the kiss is a lot deeper and rougher than the ones before.
I’m panting and trying to crawl up his body when he pulls his mouth away from mine, muttering a quiet, “F*ck.”
“Wow,” I say, bringing my fingers to my lips.
“I’m going to need to work out a lot,” he growls, making me smile at his words. “All right, now,” he says, picking up my bag. “Go get ready for work.”
I look into his eyes, seeing that they’re heavy with lust. My heart skips a beat as I take my bag from him and stumble into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I lean back against the cool wood and take a few deep breaths. Once my heartbeat calms, I look into the mirror; my lips are dark pink and swollen, my cheeks are flushed an attractive shade of pink, and I see a happiness in my eyes that looks foreign to me.
After I finish getting ready in the bathroom, I slip on my heels—four-inch cream-lace peep-toe booties with bows going up the center. I straighten out my navy-blue pencil skirt and make sure my top is tucked in before heading into the kitchen. I walk across the living room carpet, watching as Nico types away on the laptop in front of him at the counter. He’s still shirtless; his golden skin covered with tattoos is so gorgeous that I really want to trace every single one with my tongue and fingers as he tells me the history behind each of them.
As soon as my feet hit the tile floor, his head comes up and turns towards me. I watch him shake his head when his eyes travel down my body to my feet. When our gazes meet again, my step falters at his heated look.
“I don’t know how I’m going to be able to cope knowing that men are looking at you when you’re out. I don’t even want to think about the times I’m out of town, leaving you alone.”
“Men don’t look at me.” I scrunch up my eyebrows and shake my head.
“F*ck yes, they do! You just don’t notice, and they’re too chickenshit to talk to you. No man wants to give a woman the power to crush his ego, and baby, I hate to tell you this, because I like that you don’t realize how beautiful you are, but you are the kind of woman that could make a man feel like he has it all or make him feel like he has absolutely nothing.”
I’ve been holding my breath; I can’t believe he just said that. I’m not stupid. I know I’m considered attractive, but I’ve never had anyone make me feel like he just did with those few words.
“Do you want some coffee?” he asks like he didn’t just turn my world upside down. I look at the clock, seeing that I have time, so I nod once, walking the rest of the way into the kitchen. “How about some toast?”
“Yes, thank you.”
I sit on one of his barstools and watch as he moves around the kitchen, first putting bread in the toaster then pulling out a coffee cup and pouring me some. He pulls the milk out of the fridge and holds it up in question; when I nod, he pours some in the mug and then does the same with the sugar. When he’s done, he places the cup in front of me. Then he gets the toast, spreads butter on it, and places it in front of me, where I’m sitting at the island.
“Do you have any honey?” I ask, picking up a piece of toast.
“Sure, babe,” he says, handing me a bear-shaped bottle of honey from one of his cupboards before coming back to sit next to me.
“Did you decorate?” I ask, squeezing a giant glob of honey onto one of the pieces of toast.
I love his house; I’m surprised at how well it’s decorated. All of his furniture is modern and edgy. In the living room, he has low black carpet and a dark-grey suede couch with black and red pillows, and the entertainment center, coffee tables, and side tables are all the same black-lacquered finish. The kitchen is all dark wood and black granite, with gleaming stainless-steel appliances. Even in his guest room, the furniture was well put together. I could see him in everything, but have a hard time believing he decorated it on his own.
“No, Liz did,” he says so affectionately that my stomach drops.
I watch as he takes a drink of coffee; I never even thought that he might have a girlfriend. Oh, shit—what if he still has a girlfriend? My stomach rolls, and I drop my piece of toast to my plate.
“Liz is my sister-in-law,” he says, catching me off guard. I turn to look at him. He has a look on his face that makes me feel like an idiot. “I like that look on you though.”
“What?” I look away, trying to hide my face with my hair.
“You, looking like you lost something…but only because it was me you were thinking about.”
“You’re full of yourself,” I say, trying to cover how I really feel.
“Nope. I know I want you. Now, seeing that look, I know you feel the same,” he says in a tone that is so serious I hold my breath for a second before recovering.
“I may not have any experience dating, but I’m pretty sure that this,” I say, pointing between the two of us, “isn’t normal.” I shake my head.
“Baby, if I was normal, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You would be at work or at home doing what you do every single day after you pushed me away the first time,” he says, taking another drink of coffee.
He is right. I hate that he is right. I hate that I am so transparent to someone who is a virtual stranger. Everything Maggie said keeps running through my mind—which reminds me that I never called her after our dinner the other night. I look over at Nico and my stomach drops. I don’t think it’s fair to explore this thing with him when I’m not even sure who I really am.
His eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head. “I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, but know this—you run and I will find you.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask nervously.
“Tell me something,” he says, turning towards me, his knees caging me in. “What do you feel when we’re together?”
I want to say, “Safe,” but know that sounds stupid, so I keep my mouth closed.
“Tell me,” he urges, leaning towards me.
“I…I don’t know.” I look down at my hands.
“You do know. Say it,” he demands.
“Safe,” I whisper, still looking at my hands. I feel his fingers at my chin as he lifts my face so our eyes meet.
“You are safe with me, Sophie.” His fingers run along my jaw. “We are going to explore this thing between us. We are going to take it as slowly as you need, but you are not going to push me away. It’s not going to work. You push me, and I will push back.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” I tell him, looking over his shoulder before meeting his eyes again.
“Yeah.” He nods, his thumb running over my bottom lip. “But we have time. Tonight, I’ll make dinner here and we can work on getting to know each other.”
“Sure.” I sigh, starting to understand something about him—he is relentless.
“Finish your toast,” he says, picking his coffee back up and turning slightly away from me, his legs still boxing me in.
I start eating again, trying not to think about the way it feels every time his hand rubs along my arm or back like he can’t stop touching me. I finish my toast then stick my finger into my mouth to suck the honey off. I start to put my thumb in my mouth when he grabs my wrist, bringing my hand to his mouth, and his eyes meet mine as his lips close around my thumb.
I’m paralyzed. The space between my thighs starts to tingle. I bite my lip to avoid the moan I feel in my throat. I watch in fascination as he pulls my thumb out of his mouth, placing a light kiss on the tip, and I swear I feel it on my *.
“Sweet.” He leans in, placing a kiss on my lips before picking up my plate and walking into the kitchen, leaving me in a gooey mess sitting on the barstool.
I stand on shaky legs, taking a breath before walking over to my bag to pick it up off the couch.
“Do you have everything?”
I nod; I can’t seem to talk anymore.
“I’ll walk you out.” He places his hand on the small of my back, leading me to the front door.
He opens it, and I stop to look up at him. “Thank you for…you know…last night…and this morning,” I say, my cheeks heating up, making me feel like a dork.
“You’re welcome.” He smiles before lowering his head to kiss me.
I lean into him, loving the way it feels when he is so close to me. He pulls his mouth away after just a small touch of his lips, leaving me feeling disappointed. “Baby, as much as I want to really kiss you, I can’t. I’m hanging on by a very short thread and know that, if I kiss you like I want, you won’t be going to work, and we will be doing a whole lot of stuff you’re not ready for.”
“Oh,” I whisper, reading his face.
“Now, come on before all my good intentions go out the window,” he says with one more small kiss.
“Okay.” I bite my lip to keep from grinning, liking that I affect him so deeply. I turn and walk out the door and down the steps, and make my way to my car. I start to turn around to give him a wave, but I’m startled when I bump into his solid, still-naked chest. “You don’t have a shirt on,” I tell him shakily, looking around and wondering how many women are peeking through their blinds trying to get a glimpse of him.
“And?” he prompts, sliding my car key from my hand and opening my door.
“People can see you.”
“Babe?” His eyebrows draw together in confusion.
“Nico?” I hear a feminine voice call, and I turn my head and watch as a woman with black hair pulled up into a high ponytail, pink shorts, and a pink hoodie unzipped to show off her tits runs across the lawn to Nico’s driveway. “Oh God, I’m so glad I caught you!” she cries, her long, fake nails digging into his arm. “Henry left this morning and the darn sink in our bathroom won’t shut off. Can you come over and look at it?”
I can’t help but glare at her. Is she serious? I watch as her eyes travel over his body and she licks her lips. That’s when I’ve had enough.
“I’m sorry, but can you give us a second please?” I ask with my sweetest smile before grabbing Nico’s hand so I can drag him back into the house without giving him a choice.
“What are you doing?” he asks as I open the front door.
Daisy starts going crazy like she’s been alone for a year instead of just a few minutes. I don’t even stop to explain myself. I go to the room across from the one I slept in last night, knowing that it’s Nico’s. Then I open the door and look around. Spotting his dresser, I walk to it and start opening drawers.
“Sophie?”
“Just a second,” I say, finally finding a drawer with shirts and pulling out the first one my hand lands on. “Here. Put this on,” I demand, shoving the shirt at him. When I hear his laugh, I turn around to see him smiling, and it’s not a normal smile. That’s when I realize what I just did.
“You done?” he asks, his fingers running along the underside of my jaw. I can’t speak; I can’t even look at him. It’s official—I’m crazy.
“Um…” I mumble, looking over his shoulder. His hand on my cheek brings my eyes back to him.
“You’re really f*cking beautiful when you get all territorial.”
I can’t believe I just dragged him inside to get a shirt. I didn’t even think—I just hated that that woman was looking at him like he was her next meal. “Um…” I mumble again.
“You’re making it really f*cking hard for me to not kiss you,” he groans before taking a step back and pulling the shirt over his head. “All right, let’s try this again,” he says, taking my hand and leading me back outside to my car.
The woman, Deb, is still here; her eyes go to our hands and narrow before she lifts them and plasters a smile on her face.
“Deb, this is my girlfriend, Sophie.” My stomach flips over at the word ‘girlfriend.’ I’m not going to correct him in front of Deb though. “Sophie, this is Deb. She lives next door and watches Daisy when I’m out of town.”
“Oh, that’s so nice of you, Deb,” I say, my smile matching hers in fakeness.
“I didn’t know you have a girlfriend.” She takes her eyes off me, looking at Nico.
“I don’t have time to look at your sink today, Deb,” he says, ignoring her comment.
“Sophie’s going to work and I have some stuff to do. You should call George and see if he can come by.” He opens my car door, waiting while I get in. It’s already eighty degrees out, so I start my car and flip the switch for my top to roll back.
“George always takes forever to get here. Are you sure you can’t come over and have a quick look?” she pouts.
“Desperate much?” I mumble to myself while tying my hair up into a ponytail. I look up at Nico, who is watching me closely with a small smirk on his face.
“I’ll see you tonight for dinner, baby. Just come here when you get off,” he says, leaning his body into my car.
“Okay,” I whisper, mesmerized by the flecks of gold in his eyes, the way he’s looking at me, and the way my chest feels every time he calls me baby in that sexy, deep voice of his.
He leans in more, his mouth touching mine. When he goes to pull away, I capture his head with my hands in his hair, holding him to me and taking the kiss I wanted earlier. He growls into my mouth, his hand on the door going to my knee then up my thigh under my skirt. My skin tingles where he touches. I feel one finger slide across the seam of my panties, causing me to gasp and pull my mouth from his. Our eyes meet, and his finger travels over the seam again, this time with a little more pressure.
“This is going to be mine, sweet Sophie.” I lick my bottom lip, and his mouth comes back down on mine in a soft, teasing touch before pulling away. He looks at me before standing to his full height. “See you later, baby.” He smiles and taps the door of my car before taking a step back.
“Have a good day. Bye, Deb,” I say cheerfully and smile. He shakes his head and grins bigger.
I back out of the driveway before putting my car in drive and taking off, watching in the rearview mirror as he says something to Deb, who looks like she’s begging him. I shake my head. I can’t blame her; I would beg him too.
I turn my gaze in the mirror to myself and smile. Luckily for me, I don’t need to beg. Then I think about everything I have been through and how much help I need, and I decide that today is the day. I can’t put it off any longer. If I want to be with Nico—and I definitely want to be with Nico?—I need to try to fix myself.
*~*~*
I push Nico to his back and climb on top of him, my mouth going to his neck and my hands going up his shirt. I love everything he’s been showing me about making out. I feel the smoothness of his skin under my palms and want more, so I tug his shirt over his head before pressing my hips down, feeling his erection hit perfectly every time I move my hips. He groans, and his hands slide up my sides under my shirt, dragging it up and over my head. I sit back so he can unhook my bra. His mouth moves to my neck, nipping and licking as his hand unclasps my bra.
“You have the most beautiful tits.”
His words cause a moan to climb up my throat as his lips lock around one nipple, his free hand pulling on the other one. My head drops forward to watch him. His hand travels down my back and into my jeans, grabbing my ass and pressing me harder into him, causing me to whimper again.
“Please,” I moan, tossing my head back.
He rolls us over so I’m under him. His hand moves to the front of my jeans. The sound of my zipper being lowered fills my ears. Then his fingers press into me, causing me to lift my head and latch on to his bottom lip with my teeth.
“You’re so wet—so f*cking wet. I can’t wait to sink into your tight little p-ssy and have you dripping around me, gripping me tight while I f*ck you hard.” This is something else I’ve learned about myself—the dirtier he talks, the hotter I get. “I want you to come for me, Sophie. I want to feel your tight, hot little p-ssy pull my fingers deep inside of you.”
“Nico! Oh…God...” I whimper, my fingers digging into his arm.
“Come for me, sweet girl,” his lips whisper across my ear.
My hips lift higher; my heels dig into the bed as I shatter, my orgasm taking me into another world before sending me back to earth. When I come back to myself, I’m wrapped tight in his arms with my head pressed into his chest.
“You okay?”
I nod, listening to his heart beat rapidly against my ear. “Are you okay?”
“Never better,” he tells me sincerely.
“But you—” I start to tell him that he hasn’t gotten off. Actually, since he started introducing me to sex, he has never even taken off his pants.
“We will get to that, baby. But for now, it’s about you.”
“I want to make you feel good too,” I tell him, burying my face into his chest.
“Watching you get off makes me feel good,” he says while stroking my hair.
“I want to touch you. You never let me touch you,” I whine.
“You will one day, but right now, I need to keep my boy away from you. It’s important I take my time with you. I want you to be ready when we finally go there. If you touch me, all my good intensions will go out the window,” he explains.
“Fine,” I pout. I am happy he is giving me time to get used to foreplay and building up to sex, but I still want to touch him like he touches me.
“You’re adorable when you pout.” He smiles before kissing me. “So how was your day? Did you go to your meeting?” he asks, running his hand along my back.
“Yes.” I hold my breath.
He doesn’t know the kind of meetings I am going to. I never told him what happened to me; I don’t want him to think I’m tainted or something, even though I know it’s stupid to feel that way. I just told him that I’m going to meetings to help with the loss of my mom. I feel bad about lying, but I don’t know how to tell him what the meetings are really for.
I started going to meetings two months ago, gathering all the information that first day he called me his girlfriend, and have gone once a week since then. I like having a group of women to talk to who understand what I’m feeling, even though I kind of feel like an imposter sitting with them. The things most of them have been through make me feel weak.
“You know, if you ever want to talk to me about how you’re dealing with the loss of your mom, I’m here for you.” He hugs me closer, the ball of guilt in my stomach getting heavier by the second.
“I know. Thank you,” I choke out. “I’m so sleepy,” I whisper, wanting to get away from talking. “I’m gonna head home.”
“Stay with me.” He hugs me again, making me feel sick. “You don’t work at the school tomorrow. We can sleep in.”
I want that. I want to sleep next to him, to have him hold me and make me feel better, but I just can’t. “I think I should go home,” I repeat more softly this time.
“All right, sweet Sophie,” he whispers, making me feel worse. He always does exactly what I want; he never pushes me.
“Thank you.”
I get off the bed and put on my bra and shirt before watching him pull his shirt back over his head. He follows me out into the living room, grabbing his keys. He always follows me home when I’m over here late. He walks me into my house to check everything out and then kisses me before leaving for the night, telling me to lock up after him while reminding me to set the alarm.
“I really wish you would stay,” he says gently.
“I just need time,” I tell him. Seeing the look on his face has me wanting to kick my own ass, but I don’t know what to do; I feel stuck.
“As long as you need, Sophie.” He hands me my keys.
I hope he’s not lying and doesn’t give up on me. I want to be better; I hate that I’m hurting him. I walk to him, wrapping my arms around his waist before lifting up on my toes while pulling his mouth down to mine for a kiss. I try to tell him everything with that one kiss. When I pull away, he looks at me and I can see that he’s searching my eyes, trying to understand. I wish I understood myself.
“All right. Let’s get you home.” He kisses my forehead before leading me out to my car.
I bite my cheek the whole way home, and I bite it harder as he kisses me goodnight. When the door finally closes behind him, I let the tears I’ve been holding in fall.