“Whatever I make it mean,” he says, giving a low chuckle before he adds, “I’ll come around and get you,” and he’s already exiting the car, clicking the locks before he departs. I turn to my door, and try to open it but it won’t budge. Frowning, I try again, and still it won’t move. Nick grabs the door and opens it, and I twist around to get out, and to go right along with the rest of my day, my skirt catches on my heel. Much to my distress, as I rotate to face him, the slit down the middle of my dress tears straight to my bare-naked crotch.
I gasp, and as much as I want to cover myself, my heel and my skirt are still not where they should be. But when embarrassment would kick in, Nick is suddenly squatting in front of me, his hand on my knees, his gaze sliding to my sex, lingering and then lifting to mine, the connection stealing my breath.
“If you’re trying to seduce me,” he says, his expression all hard lines, and passion, before he adds, “it’s working.”
It’s cold outside, and I am warm all over. “I…that wasn’t the idea.”
He leans in and kisses my leg just above my thigh high, and then, to my shock, he leans in and licks my clit, and then he’s doing this slow teasing swirly thing with his tongue, and now I really can’t breathe. I brace myself on the dash and just when I think I might melt right here in this car, Nick pulls back and stands, taking me with him.
I pant with the impact. “You can’t keep doing that to me,” I whisper. “Seriously. That is—”
He leans in and kisses me, hand at the back of my head, his tongue now doing that same slow, sexy tease he’d just done in much more intimate places, before he speaks, “I won’t stop next time. That’s a promise.”
NICK LACES HIS FINGERS WITH mine and guides me away from the car, shutting the door. Somehow though, instead of walking forward, we’re standing toe-to-toe again, and when our eyes meet, there is this flutter in my chest that somehow turns into heat radiating across my chest and down my arm to where our fingers touch. To where he holds my hand, and with all I have dared sexually, with good and bad outcomes, with all I know he will dare of me, this is still what affects me.
“You hold onto me like you think I’m going to run,” I murmur. “You wouldn’t be here if that were my plan.”
“I hold onto you like a man who doesn’t want to stop touching you.” He reaches up and caresses my check, the touch tender, my body reacting, my breasts heavy, my nipples puckered under the lace of my bra. That flutter in my chest repeating. “Let’s go inside where I don’t have to,” he adds.
“Yes,” I say. “Please.”
His lips curve. “Please.”
“I’m polite too,” I say, but I don’t add anything about my mother teaching me right, because she did not. My father did.
“I wonder if you’ll be so polite when I finally get you naked.”
“Don’t count on it,” I say, and it’s meant to be playful but there is this pulse of adrenaline in me that makes it more raspy and needy.
He knows it too. I see it in the darkening of his eyes. “Come,” he says, draping his arm around my shoulders, and turning us toward the door, leaving my hands free to tug his jacket around all my gaping, naked places, while I’m thinking about being truly naked with this man. And with each step we take, I am aware of how our legs move together, hips aligned. How he holds me close, touching me just as he said: Like he doesn’t want to stop touching me.
We’ve just reached the eight steps leading to the dimly lit porch when my cellphone rings in his jacket pocket I’m still wearing and I stop dead in my tracks. “Oh no,” I say, digging in the pocket. “I didn’t send Josh that text. It’s going to be him and where is my phone? I can’t find it but I hear it.”
Nick moves to the step in front of me, and reaches in the opposite pocket from the one I’m struggling with, retrieving my phone, which has stopped ringing. “Thank you,” I say, reaching for it, and I have no idea how this man handing me my cell, has turned into something sexual, but he’s holding it and my hand.
“I still don’t have you inside the house,” he murmurs softly, walking backward to lead me to the porch, only steps away from the door. “I still don’t have you naked.”
And that’s when my phone starts to ring again.
Nick sighs. “I’m starting to feel like this is a threesome.” He releases me. “Talk to the man so I can have you to myself.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just be done.”
I nod, and answer the call, “Josh.” And then I say that word again, “Sorry. I just saw your text.”
Nick walks to the door and leans on it, and while I intend to walk to the security panel to key in my code, I instead find myself standing just above the steps, embracing my first opportunity to fully appreciate Nick without a suit or tuxedo jacket on. His white shirt stretching across an impressive broad chest, his arms, also impressive from what I can tell, folded in front of said impressive chest.
He notices my attention, of course, because how can he not when I’m boldly watching him, he arches a brow, the look on his face, a wicked invitation. Josh says something about the parking lot followed by “And I texted and tried to call you,” while I have no idea what else he’s said.
Cutting my gaze from the distraction that is Nick, I reply with, “It didn’t ring,” and cross to the keypad, on the wall, right next to the spot Nick leans on.
“And you didn’t think about finding me before leaving?” Josh demands.
“I had car problems I was dealing with.” I key in my code to have it beep in rejection.
“Which means you were leaving without finding me,” he accuses.
Giving up on the code to the door, wishing now that I didn’t let the security company convince me to use this keypad system, I rotate and rest against the wall, next to Nick. Focusing now, on surviving this conversation with Josh. “You disappeared along with the crowd.”
“Where are you now?” he asks. “Do you need help with your car?”
“I got a ride home.”
“A ride with Nick Rogers,” Josh says, disapproval in his voice.
“Josh—”
“That’s a yes,” he says. “He’s an arrogant bastard, that will fuck you and leave you. You know that, right?”
A fizzle of unease slides through me at the harsh words, that do not fit Josh, but then again, he’s still close to a past that I’ve left behind. A man that I’ve left behind and I’m not going to go there with him with Nick standing here, or ever, if I have my way. “Thank you for the advice,” I say, trying to recreate the professional barrier between us that seems to have fallen. “And for everything tonight. I’m excited that you liked my new work. I can’t wait to see what happens with it,” I can feel Nick’s eyes on me, heavy, interested.
“In other words,” Josh says, “he’s with you, and you don’t want to talk.”
“Now’s not a good time,” I confirm.
“Right.” He’s silent several beats. “Just be careful.”
“I always am.”
“We’ll talk before I head back to LA.” He hangs up and I stuff my phone back in the jacket pocket. “Well, that went well,” I say, glancing over at Nick. “And I have to call the security company. I don’t have a key. I use the keypad.”
Nick pushes off the wall and steps in front of me. Big and overwhelmingly male, but he really makes overwhelming delicious. “What’s the code?” he asks.