And I stand there, watching him cross to his white Porsche, because why wouldn’t my agent drive a Porsche like my ex, who he’s best friends with. Still pissed, really baffled about what just happened, I don’t wait for him to leave. I walk into the house. The minute I’m inside, Nick shuts the door and pulls me to him.
“That wasn’t about your art, sweetheart,” he says, his hands at my waist. “You know that, right?”
“I don’t know what the hell that was.”
“He wants to fuck you. He’s probably in love with you.”
I blanch. “What? No. No. No. He’s best friends with my ex.”
“Come on, Faith. Some part of you knows that man wants you. And you need a new agent.”
“Because you think he wants to fuck me?” I demand, angry all over again at these men trying to run my life. I push away from him, darting down the hallway, where I can have some coffee and get more wired and angry at the rest of the world.
Nick’s on my heels, I can feel him, a heavy force of alpha pain-in-my-ass man right now, that while sexy as hell at moments, is not now. I enter the kitchen and round the island, fully intending to keep it between us, but he has other ideas. I turn and he’s already with me, pressing me against the counter, his big, delicious, pain-in-my-ass body, crowding mine.
“He wants to fuck you, Faith. He’s thinking with his dick, not his head. That isn’t good for you.”
“And what are you doing, Nick?”
“Sweetheart, I have no hesitation in telling you that I want to fuck you, and then do it all over again. But this isn’t about me and you fucking. This is about your career.”
“You don’t know me enough to care about this.”
“When do I get to care, Faith? One week? One month? Two? Tell me. Because this is new fucking territory for me.”
“You can’t—”
“I do and the one thing that your dickhead agent and I agree on is the fact that you need to paint. And I’m going to make you paint. And when you do, you need an agent who isn’t thinking about fucking you instead of selling you.”
“He’s my ex’s best friend,” I say, returning to the explanation I’ve given myself every time I felt awkward with Josh.
“You said that already and it still changes nothing.”
“You want me to change agents because he wants to fuck me and so do you.”
“Sweetheart, I’m going to make sure you’re well enough fucked that he never has a shot. And that’s only going to piss him off more. Be ready. His wrath is coming but before it comes. Tell him to set up that show he mentioned.”
“It’s not that simple,” I argue. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand that I want to fuck an artist. So you’re going to be an artist.”
I blink at the ridiculousness of that statement. “So I have to be an artist because you want to fuck an artist?”
“You are an artist, Faith. End of story and everything else you do is simply a distraction.”
“Including you?”
He strokes a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’m okay with being second to your art.”
Once again, Nick surprises me, delivering an answer that is nothing that I expect, and everything I didn’t even know I wanted.
“Second to your art,” he adds. “But not another man. New hard limit.” He cups my face. “Whatever this is, it’s exclusive. You fuck no one else until we decide it’s over.”
“And you, Nick?” I ask. “Will you fuck someone else?”
“Sweetheart. You have my full attention and not only do I want no one else. I want all of you and I’m not going to settle for any less.”
I’m not sure what he means by this. All of me. And I don’t ask because he can’t have all of me. Which is why this should be the end. But when he kisses me I’m alive. When he touches me I’m on fire. When he’s with me, I’m not alone, even though I would be with anyone else. So when he says, “Hard limit, Faith. Only us,” I don’t push him away and I don’t push back. I live dangerously. I say, “Hard limit. Only us.”
And just like that, Nick has proven I was right about him from the beginning. He is dark lust. He is all-consuming. He is an escape I crave. Maybe he’s even an obsession as he’d called me. But more so, he is dangerous. I sense it. I feel it like I feel this man in every part of me inside and out.
But then, so am I.
NICK PACKS UP HIS WORK and most of my documents, and we head to the winery with the intent of having lunch there and reviewing his legal plan with the bank. And now, sitting in the passenger seat of his car, I am aware of this man next to me in ways I have never been aware of another man. It’s not about looking at him and being aroused. Or looking at him and thinking about how sexy he is. It’s about how I feel him inside and out. The way I know him beyond logic and reason. And maybe that means things are going too fast, but to where? We agreed. No love. No forever. This is just “us” and “us” makes me feel something that isn’t guilt and pain. And I need that. I guess that means I need him, and that’s a terrifying thought, to need someone else. My father needed my mother and that made him a fool.
“What are you going to do about Josh?” Nick asks.
I breathe out. “Have a heart-to-heart with him.”
“You can’t reason with a man who’s thinking with his dick, sweetheart.”
“I really hope you’re wrong about his feelings for me, but even if you’re not, he kept me on despite Macom telling him to drop me, and he placed my work when I was doing nothing to support it myself. No agent would have done that.”
He glances over at me. “Macom told him to drop you?”
“Yes,” I say. “I learned that he’s all about an eye for an eye. I left him. It wounded his ego. He lashed out. And as much money as he makes Josh, Josh had the courage to tell him that professional and personal are two different things. I’d like to think that’s about my work, not some personal agenda.”
“Your work is exceptional, Faith,” Nick says. “And any inference you took from my evaluation of Josh’s interest in you otherwise was not intended. I also know his reputation. He’s a good agent, but he’s a good agent acting badly. He indirectly threatened you today when he said he’d cancel the your art in the forum, and he did so because I was at your house.”
“You’re right. He did, but he deserves to have me talk to him not drop him right when I might find some success that he helped create. Like I said, and this is big: That man kept me on and helped place my work, when I was doing nothing to support that work.”
He turns us into the winery property and glances over at me again. “Loyalty is a good quality, but once a man is in the place he’s in with a woman, there’s no room for delicate conversation. My advice that you didn’t ask for: Be frank.”
“You say this like it’s from experience.”
“I’ve never been shameless over a woman. Ever. But as I said. Love and hate wear a fine line and I’ve fought many a battle in court over that line.”
“Noted, counselor,” I say. “Be direct. I really don’t have a problem with direct.”