by Kendall Ryan
Just stick to the plan.
Raising my knuckles to the door, I knocked twice.
Nolan opened it, looking as handsome as ever. His deep blue gaze latched onto mine. A warm shiver pulsed through me, bringing awareness once again to the intense attraction I felt toward him. He was dressed casually, in a white T-shirt that clung to his muscled torso, and loose jeans that still hinted at his powerful thighs.
Damn it. Eyes up, Lacey.
Without a word, Nolan allow his gaze to travel down my figure, taking in my casual, yet alluring ensemble, lingering over my breasts, my hips. It seemed he wasn’t the only one being mentally undressed.
I’d paid extra attention when getting ready this morning. Blow-drying my hair so it fell in a thick, straight curtain down my back, slipping into my nicest jeans—dark washed and slim fit to hug the curves of my hips and round ass. My burgundy Oklahoma Sooners T-shirt was just a little too taut over my breasts. It had shrunk the first time I washed it; at the time, I’d gotten upset, but now it seemed that the almost-too-small top was a blessing in disguise.
I expected some wisecrack about wearing my team colors, but instead, Nolan leaned in for a brief hug.
“You look nice.” He breathed the words barely an inch from my ear, sending warmth rushing over my skin. It was the first time we’d had such close contact, and my body heated up accordingly.
We came inside to the kitchen. Nolan unloaded my armful of food onto the counter, next to a piping-hot oven pizza.
“What’s all this?” he asked, looking down at the several containers.
“I thought we might want some game-day snacks.” I bent down to pet the dog who had come out to sniff my feet. “And you must be Sutton.”
He let out a grunt and wiggled his stubby tail. Nolan watched with approval as I gave the dog a few good scratches behind the ears.
“Is Daniella here?”
Just the woman’s name sent hot jealousy spiraling through me. I’d never be okay with this. But it didn’t matter. I had a plan. And I would stick to it come hell or high water. I just wanted to know what I was getting myself into.
“She’s at work. Why, did you want to meet her?” he asked, his brows raised as if the idea of us meeting never crossed his mind.
I shrugged. “I just assumed. Since I was coming to your place . . . and she lives here.”
He shook his head.
As a knock sounded at the door, I was struck by the unmistakable feeling that things were about to get a whole lot more confusing.
Nolan opened the door and greeted a tall, muscular man who stood there. They did that thing guys do, a thump on the back and a one-armed hug.
“Lacey, this is Greyson,” Nolan said.
Greyson smiled warmly at me, giving the impression that Nolan had supplied more information than that behind the scenes.
“It’s good to meet you, Lacey,” Greyson said, his rough voice neutral, but his eyes dancing with mischief.
“Former SEAL?” I asked him, ignoring the unspoken messages passing between the men.
“How’d you guess?” he asked.
I tipped my chin toward the trident tattoo peeking from his sleeve. I’d been around enough SEALs growing up to recognize it anywhere. More than that, I was no stranger to the world these men had lived through—the blood, sweat, and tears that tattoo represented. Most women probably threw themselves at such strong, confident men, even before they found out their past professions, but I only viewed them with a healthy dose of respect.
“Very good,” Greyson said, clearly impressed.
Nolan, on the other hand, gave me a curious glance. “Drinks?” he asked.
“I thought we were just going to stand here staring at each other all afternoon,” Greyson said, smiling warmly at me.
I chuckled and followed them back into the kitchen. A formal tour wasn’t necessary. Nolan’s home was an open floor plan. The living area held two warm brown leather couches and a flat-screen TV mounted above a stone fireplace. The kitchen was all rustic mahogany cabinets and smooth cream-colored granite. It suited him. Airy, comfortable, and non-pretentious.
He pointed down the hall and told me I’d find the restroom at the end. And the bedrooms too, I assumed.
“Let me grab our drinks real quick. Then I’ll show you where I keep the good stuff,” Nolan said, winking at me.
After he popped the cap off an imported beer and handed it to Greyson, he filled a crystal tumbler with ice, adding a measure of whiskey and just a splash of water.
Noticing my gaze, he held up the finished product and remarked, “I’m a man of very singular tastes.”
“Except when it comes to women,” I said. Shit. Did my filter just disappear?
Greyson chuckled, sipping his beer.
“Can I make you something?” Nolan ignored my remark with barely a smirk on his full lips. “A margarita?” he asked, remembering my drink choice from last weekend.
He had a fully stocked bar with expensive liquor and cut crystal glasses for each type of drink. Martinis, red and white wines, highballs. Long-stemmed champagne glasses, which I guessed he rarely used.
“No, actually, I think a beer sounds good.”
“Sure.” He offered me a glass, but I opted to drink straight from the bottle, like Greyson was doing.
“So, Lacey, how did you end up hanging out with this dickhead?” Greyson grinned at me as he led the way back to the living room.
I chuckled and took the spot on the sofa next to Sutton. He grunted and looked up at me, then plopped his head down into my lap. Stroking Sutton’s fuzzy head, I thought about how to answer. The truth certainly wouldn’t do.
“We met at West’s a couple weeks ago,” was all I offered.
He grunted and turned his eyes to Nolan’s. Again, a silent message passed between them.
They’re obviously thinking about the same thing . . . but what?
As we sat and made small talk, I gathered that Greyson was just as damaged as Nolan, just as adept at hiding his true self. He stiffened whenever Nolan asked him about his personal life, answering only questions about their shared work or the game, before Nolan gave up entirely and focused on his drink. But Greyson was a riddle for another woman to solve.
Eventually the room fell silent as the game absorbed us, and I breathed a little sigh of relief. I drained half my beer and patted Sutton’s head as it rested near my thigh.
“You know,” Greyson remarked suddenly, “a woman who can make brisket this good . . . I think she’s a keeper.” He helped himself to another bite from the plate on his lap.
Nolan’s eyes locked on mine again. A zing of heat ran through me. It was infuriating having no idea what he was possibly thinking. He’d invited me into his space, but so far he’d been quiet and impossible to read.
I couldn’t help but wonder about his relationship with Daniella. Did he treat her like a girlfriend? I knew they had a complex relationship. But I couldn’t help holding out hope that if he met someone he really connected with, then maybe . . .
No. I couldn’t let myself go there.
Even without her here, I felt her presence. The fresh-cut flowers on the dining table. The pumpkin-spice-scented hand soap at the kitchen sink. I doubted those were his touches. It felt weird being in her territory. The romance novel sitting on the kitchen island felt planted. I wondered if she’d purposefully left it there. Wanted me to see it. Wanted me to feel strange, filled with this tingly awareness that I was in her space.
“Can I steal you away?” he asked.
My heart pumped faster. “Sure,” I said, rising from the couch to follow him toward the dining room as Greyson continued watching the game.
Nolan pulled open the sliding door that led to the patio out back, and I stepped through. Thankfully the blistering heat of the summer had faded into a pleasantly warm fall. The sun was just beginning its descent, leaving the sky to decide if mellow oranges or pretty pinks were to dominate that evening’s view. Either way,
the atmosphere seemed to glow with possibility.
“Is everything okay?” Nolan asked, joining me beside the wrought-iron railing. “You’ve been quiet today.”
He had too, but I didn’t point that out. “It’s fine. I’m just a little out of my element.”
And a thousand miles outside my comfort zone. Not only because of getting involved with Nolan, but living in a new state, away from all my family and friends. It was bound to throw a girl off a little. But it felt nice to have company, and something about his presence made me feel safe.
He placed a reassuring hand against my lower back. “I’m glad you came today,” he said, his voice low.
I swallowed down a wave of nerves. “Me too.” I meant every word of that, surprisingly.
I shifted my weight, looking out over his backyard. Neat lines from the lawnmower and a row of well-groomed hedges at the very back. If only my life were that tidy . . .
“So, how does all this work? Do you mind if I pry a little?” My cheeks heated slightly, knowing all the questions spinning in my mind. It was one thing to hear about it over drinks the other night; it was quite another to see it with my own eyes.
“Pry away.” He chuckled softly, his hand slowly stroking up and down my spine.
Awareness zinged through me. It had been a long time since I’d felt a man’s touch. Six months, to be exact.
Taking a deep breath in an effort to embolden myself, I released it slowly. “Do you bring other women home to your bed often? And how does . . . she feel about that?” I didn’t want to say her name, but Nolan didn’t hesitate.
“Daniella has lived here for two years, so yes, I have brought women home before. But other than the gorgeous woman standing in front of me, I’m not interested in seeing anyone else right now. If that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Does she sleep in your bed?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s me and Sutton in there, and since she can’t stand him, it’s never even been on the table.” His hand stilled, giving me time to process his words. “And whenever I . . . play with Daniella, it’s in her bedroom, not mine.”
“Play?” The question sprang from my lips without thought. Damn lack of filter again.
Nolan shifted beside me, dropping his hand from where he touched me. I immediately felt a sense of loss.
“Daniella’s interests are somewhat . . . dark.”
A shiver of real concern ran through me. I didn’t know this man, not really. What if he was into things I couldn’t possibly tolerate?
“Does she bring men home too?” I asked next. Although curiosity gnawed at me, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to hear the extent of his kink just yet.
His expression tightened. “No. And not because I’m against it—that’d be pretty fucking hypocritical of me—but because she’s not interested in other men. She’s always been a one-man kind of woman.” Then he studied me. “What else is going on inside that pretty head of yours?”
I glanced away for a moment, embarrassed that he’d seen through me so easily. “I admit, I’m curious about those . . . interests you mentioned.” Yours more than hers.
“I see. Well, without going into too much detail, Daniella is a submissive.”
My belly tightened into a knot as my hunch about Nolan’s dominant side came into clearer view. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself why I came here. I wasn’t allowed to fall for this handsome man anyhow, so what did it matter if his sexual tastes were a little darker than mine? I got the bodyguard I needed, while Nolan and Daniella fed each other’s need for kink. Everybody won. So why was my stomach twisted into a knot?
“H-how did you get this way?” I cringed when I realized how it sounded. Like I thought he was damaged goods. Then again, maybe he was.
But he didn’t even raise an eyebrow at my question.
“After a demanding career as a SEAL . . .” He let out a deep sigh, gazing out at the yard. “My goals are much simpler now. I just want to enjoy life one day at a time, take pleasure where I find it.”
I simply nodded. He didn’t elaborate, but he didn’t need to. I knew he had seen too much, done too much, probably experienced losing teammates he fought beside. Battle could mess a man up. At the very least, it changed them. And in Nolan’s case, it made him harder and closed him off to the hearts-and-flowers kind of love I hoped to find someday. He was surviving, but in his own way.
“Now my work isn’t quite so intense. I’m a consultant for a private security firm called Redstone. And while it can be dangerous, it’s not nearly as life-and-death as my previous world.”
Looking down, I gave a nod of acknowledgment. I already knew all about Redstone, but it was good to hear him say that his life had improved.
Chuckling softly, he returned his hand to my lower back. “Come on. What else did you want to know about Daniella?”
Was I being that obvious? “How did she end up living here with you?”
“I knew her through a mutual acquaintance, and after breaking up with her ex, she needed somewhere to live. I had a spare room—three, actually—and I offered her a place to stay. Rent-free. No strings. And she said yes.”
“That was awfully nice of you.” I blinked at him in wide-eyed astonishment. It wasn’t something many people would do.
“Trust me, I’m very far from being a white knight.” His voice dropped lower and his hand moved slowly along my spine again. “Our relationship sort of evolved from there.”
He didn’t continue, leaving me to guess at the specifics their BDSM relationship might involve.
“What happened to her?” Something must have gone down, if she’d needed Nolan’s help so suddenly.
“Let’s just say she was pretty banged up when I got her.” He went still for several moments, as if he was lost in a somber memory. “She’s safe now,” he added.
It was the kind of heroism I’d expect from a Navy SEAL. Rescue. Relief. I wondered if he’d banged down the door to her ex’s place and made him suffer. A rush of warmth spread through me at the thought.
Nolan glanced at me. “Would it make you uncomfortable to be in my bed, knowing she was just down the hall?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Yes, it probably would a little,” I finally admitted.
He nodded once, as if he was expecting my answer. “I don’t want to talk about Daniella anymore.”
“You don’t?” I murmured, lost in the deep unending blue of his eyes. They were stormy and filled with tension.
Slowly, he shook his head. Bringing one hand up to cup my cheek, he stroked his thumb over my skin. “I think you’re sexy as hell,” he growled. “And Grey was right, that brisket was fucking incredible.”
I smiled and leaned into his touch as his gaze lowered to my mouth. Running my tongue tentatively across my bottom lip, I felt the air around us change, grow more heated.
“I need to know what you taste like,” he murmured.
I blinked up at him, my eyes still searching his. There were so many things I was unsure about, but the electricity buzzing between us wasn’t one of them.
Leaning forward, Nolan brought his lips to mine and waited, as if to give me a chance to decide. His warm breath ghosted over my mouth.
Accepting his invitation, I stood on tiptoe and touched my lips to his. With one hand still stroking my jaw, his other came to settle against my hip, his thumb running along the bare skin at the waistband of my jeans. He pulled my body close, until I felt the hard ridge of him against my belly. He felt massive. My lips parted in a silent gasp and he stroked his tongue against mine.
Our mouths seemed made to fit together. And the skillful way he moved his tongue provoked thoughts of how else he could use that tongue. My panties grew wet and my breathing ragged as we kissed.
My hands wandered, running over his firm biceps and down the front of his shirt, where rounded pecs waited invitingly.
Sex rolled off of him in waves. No, not just sex. Fucking. I was sure that being intimate with N
olan would be unlike any other experience I’d had. And that excited the hell out of me. Maybe there was something about its forbidden nature that appealed to me too. He’d already been claimed by another woman, and I hated that I saw that as a challenge—but damn, I did. And I wanted to rise to the occasion.
“Sweet Jesus, woman,” he murmured, breaking away from my lips.
I couldn’t disagree. Everything about that kiss felt right. Backgrounds ceased to matter. Messy entanglements forgotten. When I was kissing Nolan, nothing mattered except getting even closer. More, my body begged. For such a strong and intense man, I hadn’t counted on the sweet way he was with me, the deep, yet soft kisses and tender touches. He made me feel safe, and to me, there was no better feeling in the world.
“Just keep an open mind,” he said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
With my lips tingling and the taste of whiskey on my tongue, I gave him a small nod. “I will.”
“Come on. Let’s go catch the rest of the game.”
“Okay.” I nodded again.
Nolan brushed his lips against mine one last time. “We’ll take this at whatever pace you need, okay?”
The sincerity in his eyes, his voice, made it impossible to disagree with him.
• • •
After getting home from Nolan’s, my lonely little apartment felt too quiet, so I called my younger sister just to hear her voice. Brynn was away at college but we had remained close, talking on the phone or texting a couple of times a week. At least, until I’d lit out to Texas.
“Lacey, where are you?” Brynn cried before I could even say hello. “Everything that’s happened . . . Troy . . .” She didn’t finish her thought, and she didn’t have to.
“I know. I’m safe. And for once in my life, I might even find something that makes me happy.” Brynn knew all too well that my life so far had revolved around making other people happy.
“You’re not going to do anything crazy, are you?”
I couldn’t help the chuckle that pushed past my lips. I thought of Nolan and all the reasons why I shouldn’t pursue him. And there were many.
