“What does that mean?”
“You were willing to be naked physically while I was fully dressed, but not emotionally, not at first. You are always willing to give me control of your body, Faith, even from the first night we met, but you aren’t willing to give me the ultimate control I’ve given you.”
“I’m naked. You’re not. One of us gave the other control. And it wasn’t you.”
“I can be naked and fuck a million women and they wouldn’t have anything but my cock, Faith. But you Faith, are the one who is one hell of a drug.” And I don’t plan to say it, but suddenly the words are on my tongue, and I know I have to say them. I know she needs to hear them, “I’m falling in love with you, Faith.”
She gasps. “What?”
“I’m falling in love with you,” I say, my thumb stroking her cheek. “I’ve never said that to anyone. I’ve never felt it with anyone.”
“I’m pretty sure lust and hate have evolved into something that I’m not sure I want to feel.”
“Why, Faith?”
“You could hurt me, Nick.”
“Sweetheart, you have pieces of me no one was supposed to ever have, and the many ways you could shatter them should have me running for the hills. But all I want to do is kiss you again. Hold you. Watch you paint.” I brush my lips over hers. “Which you should do now. You have a show.”
“Watch me naked,” she says. “I need you inside me right now.”
“As much as I like that invitation,” I say, stepping back and pressing her knees together. “This was about you, Faith. Not me. I don’t want it to be about me.”
Faith is on her feet in an instant, her naked body pressed to mine, her fingers curling in my shirt all over again. “Let’s be clear, Nick Rogers. That wasn’t just for me. That was for you. That was about control.”
“Not this time.”
“Maybe you believe that, but I don’t. And I could drop to my knees and take it from you the way you just took it from me. We both know I can. But I won’t because I now realize what I didn’t before. You don’t just want it. You need it. It’s your way, your wall. It’s how you keep people at a distance, me at a distance.”
“I just told you I’m falling in love with you, woman.”
“And you made sure I was vulnerable when you did because you were vulnerable. And I let you. I’ll let you, but not forever, because I can’t be as vulnerable as you just made me, alone.” She releases my shirt and tries to move away, but there is no way in hell I’m letting her get away. Not now. And not ever.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Nick
I cup the back of Faith’s head, dragging her mouth to mine. “Sweetheart, you aren’t alone and if I have my way, you won’t ever be alone again.”
“That’s a long time, Nick,” she whispers, but I’m already kissing her by the time she finishes speaking my name, and as for that control she claims I am playing with, I let it go. I let her feel my unbridled need for her, and between the two of us, we are kissing, touching, all but crawling under each other’s skin. That word I never meant to say— love—is now between us, and it’s like freedom, a new kind of drug that stirs hunger in me for this woman, so fucking intense it damn near hurts.
My shirt comes off, my pants down, and it’s only a matter of time before she’s against the wall, and I’m pressing inside her, lifting her, pulling her back off the wall. Holding both our weights the way I’m willing to hold us both up every moment of every day, if she’ll give me that chance. If she’ll forgive me for the way we first met. It kills me right now not to tell her. Guts me and I have never wanted her trust so much. I urge her backward, and not just because I can now watch her breasts bounce as I pull her down on my cock and thrust it inside her, they are beautiful and fucking hot as hell, but she now has to trust me to hold her up. She has to trust me.
On some level, I know this is a fruitless endeavor. I can’t force her to trust me, not and have that trust be real. And real is what she wants. Real is what I want. My hand flattens at her back, between her shoulder blades, and I drag her back to me, her head buried in my shoulder, our bodies melded together. I drive harder into her, wanting out of my own head. Wanting more of her. So fucking much of her.
“Nick,” she pants out. “Nick.”
Her voice, the grip of her sex, the rush of blood in my ears and in my cock, and a deep pull in my balls, says that I am here, in that place of no fucking return, only moments after she is. I quake, my thighs burning with the force of my release and our weight. I lose reality with the force of my eruption, and come back to the present to discover I’m leaning against the wall, holding Faith against me in a bear hug. And I don’t want to let her go.
My legs have another idea and I shove off the wall, carrying her to the table next to her work station and ease her sideways to allow her to grab a tissue. “Ready?” I ask, before I set her down.
“Yes. I’m ready.”
I ease her down my body, and set her on her feet, righting my pants as she tries to put her tissue to use, only to stumble. She laughs even as she’s about to go down, which makes me laugh, but I catch her arms, preventing her fall. “I’ve got you,” I promise.
Our eyes lock, the mood darkening, the pull between us fiercely present. “I know, Nick. Just don’t let go, okay?”
“Sweetheart. I’m not going to let go. That’s a promise, but don’t forget you said that and how I replied.”
Her brow furrows, and I turn away, hunting down our clothes, and kicking myself over the coded doom and gloom message I’ve just given her. I gather her clothes and set them on the stool, when my phone rings in my pocket. Assuming it’s Beck, who’s already called me with dead end leads today, I almost ignore it, but think better. I snake it out of my pocket, and glance at caller ID. “It’s Chris Merit,” I say, glancing at Faith, who is tugging her pants over her hips.
“Answer it,” she urges quickly.
“Too late,” I say. “He hung up.”
“Call him back,” she says, pulling her shirt over her head, sans the bra she seems to have forgotten.
I snag the bra she’s not wearing and hold it up. “I sure as hell hope you get this eager when I call,” I tease.
“Sorry,” she says. “I only get this excited for Chris Merit.” She snatches her bra up. “But you’re the only one I take my underwear off for.”
“I can live with that answer,” I say, as my phone rings again and I glance at the screen again. “It’s him again,” I say, hitting the “answer” button. “Chris.”
“Sara, actually,” I hear instead. “I was wondering,” she says. “Is Faith with you? I seem to have written her number down wrong.” I glance at Faith. “She is. Hold on.” I cover the phone. “Sara for you.” I offer her the phone. She doesn’t take it.
“Oh no. What’s wrong. I wonder if my work got returned? What if—”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I promise, stroking her hair. “I’d sense it and I don’t.”
“God,” she breathes out. “I hope you’re right.”