Nixon: A Raleigh Raptors Novel

by Whiskey, Samantha

  “Yours.” She nipped at my lower lip. “Wait.” Her head jerked up.

  I froze.

  “This…doesn’t mean anything.” She shook her head.

  “It doesn’t?” I questioned, trying to keep any logical thought in my head while her ass was in my hands.

  She shook her head and kissed me again, twisting her tongue around mine and rocking against my dick. Pleasure shot down my spine.

  I carried her to the huge, mahogany bed and laid her across the black sheets. “You really don’t want to have the ‘what are we’ conversation?” I asked to be certain.

  She sat up and yanked my shirt from my pants. “The only words I want out of your mouth right now are yes, oh my god, and Liberty.”

  “Noted.” I ripped off my tie, then lost the dress shirt, my shoes, and socks. Then she reached for my belt, holding my gaze as she slipped the buckle free and unbuttoned my slacks.

  The sound of my zipper coming undone shredded what was left of my self-control. We’d been living together for over a month and I’d thought about having her in my bed every single night.

  I dropped my pants and let my boxers follow.

  She gaped as she looked her fill at my body. Then she drew her tongue across her lower lip and wrapped her fingers around my cock.

  I sucked in a breath with a hiss and fought back a rush of pleasure. Fuck, what was I? Fourteen?

  I made quick work of her tank top and pajama pants, leaving her in a simple, white lace bra and panty set that nearly made me swallow my tongue. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  She dropped her gaze, and I tilted her chin, bringing those eyes right back to mine.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and I don’t just mean physically,” I said slowly, making sure she understood that I meant it.

  “You…” she shook her head and traced the outside line of my abs with a single finger, riding the V-line all the way to my cock. “I don’t have words for what you are.”

  “I’m whatever you want me to be,” I said honestly. I would tie myself into knots for this woman, and we couldn’t even have a conversation about what the fuck we were to each other besides being parents of the child we would share.

  “I just want you.” She rose on her knees, looped her arms around my neck and kissed me.

  “Then you have me,” I said against her lips, lowering us to the bed and settling her head on my pillow.

  I kissed her breathless, then started down her body. She arched and gasped when I bit gently on her nipple through the lace of her bra. Once it hit the floor, and she was bare before me, I filled my hands with her curves, palming and shaping her incredible breasts.

  Then I lowered my mouth and sucked her nipple between my lips, flicking my tongue over the hardened peak.

  “Nixon,” she groaned, spearing her fingers through my hair and holding me to her. I gave the other breast the same treatment until her breaths were rushed and color flushed her skin. Her hips rolled, and my dick twitched.

  I took the edges of her panties between my fingers and looked up, meeting her lust-filled gaze and nearly losing my shit right there. “Are you sure you want this?”

  “God, yes.” She lifted her hips, and her panties joined the pile of clothes on the floor.

  I slid over her and settled between her thighs, then kissed her deep. Fuck, she was so wet I could feel her heat licking over the tip of my cock. She rocked her hips, and I slid right through her folds, stroking her clit with a slow thrust.

  We both groaned.

  “You’re going to be the death of me,” I swore, sliding my hand up her thigh and going straight for her core.

  “Good. Now get inside me,” she ordered, tugging on my bottom lip with her teeth to make her point.

  I reached into my nightstand for a condom, then ripped the packet open and slid it over my dick.

  Her attention flickered from my nightstand to the torn wrapper. “Nixon…has there been…” she shook her head. “Never mind.”

  I leaned down and brushed my lips over hers as I slid two fingers inside her pussy. Fuck she was wet and so tight I knew this first time wouldn’t last long. “There’s only been you.”

  “Since I moved in?” she asked, gasping between words as my fingers worked her. Her hands flew to my shoulders.

  “Since Vegas.” I stroked her clit with my thumb.

  Her nails dug in. “Vegas?” She ended the word with a cry, arching into my hand.

  “Since the second you stepped on that plane. Only you.” I flicked her clit, then stroked, alternating until she writhed beneath me.

  “Only. You. Too.” She arched her neck and moaned, then loosed her hips, rocking as she rode my fingers, taking exactly what she needed.

  She was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen, stretched out beneath me, her eyes locked on mine as she started to come. Her legs trembled, and her nails bit into my skin. I gave her clit the pressure she needed, and she flew apart, screaming my name as her orgasm took her.

  As she came down, I slid my fingers free, then sucked her taste off them.

  “Holy. Shit.” Her hands slid down my sides until she gripped my hips. “Now. Please. Now.”

  I positioned my head at her entrance, then paused as I glanced at the soft swell of her belly.

  “You can’t hurt the baby,” she promised.

  “Right.” I’d read one of those books, too, but reading and experiencing were two different things, and keeping poised right there, ready to thrust, had sweat beading on my forehead. “Just tell me if I’m too much, okay?”

  She grinned, then pulled me forward. “I think I can handle you.”

  “We kind of have that proof already,” I answered with a tight smile of my own. God, I had to have her now.

  I slid in inch by inch, taking her slowly, and keeping my eyes locked on hers, watching for any sign of pain. She whimpered and rocked her hips for more, so I gave it to her in slow thrusts that took just a little more every time until I was seated to the hilt inside her.

  “Fuck. You feel so damned good,” I growled, fighting the need to let go and come. Her pussy gripped me, squeezing me tight in a velvet fist, pushing me so close to the edge that I had to close my eyes and breathe.

  “You feel even better,” she countered, arching against me.

  I started moving, taking her in deep, slow thrusts that had her keening, crying out for more as she raised her knees and used her hips to take me just as hard.

  We moved like we’d done this a thousand times, like we’d been made to fit together. All the poetic shit I usually despised raced through my head as I brought us to the edge. With a brush of my hand over her clit, I pushed her over, and as she spasmed around me, I let go. My orgasm barreled down my spine and rushed through me with a flash of light.

  I literally saw stars.

  My chest heaving, I gathered her in my arms and rolled to the side so I didn’t crush her, then held her as we both recovered, brushing kisses over her forehead and stroking my hand down the length of her body.

  “Nixon?” She kissed my chin.

  “Hmm?” I kissed her mouth.

  “That was mind-blowing.” She grinned.

  “My thoughts exactly.” I wasn’t sure I was even the same person anymore, that’s how damned good it was.

  “So is this when we start all the fucking you bragged about downstairs?” She blinked up at me with a sparkle in her eyes.

  I laughed, then nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “Excellent.” She purred like a cat.

  I got us cleaned up, then started all over again, losing myself in her body and marveling that I’d not only found a woman capable of keeping up with me, but actually challenging me, and I was more than up for it—for her.

  Problem was, I wasn’t just hooked anymore…

  I was addicted.

  10

  Liberty

  Nixon’s delicious weight between my thighs.

  The rock hardness of his
body sliding into mine like we’d been made to fit together.

  The way he took care to go slow and steady and drag out the pleasure until we were both a tangled mess of primal need.

  I’d never come so many times in my life, let alone so hard—

  “Liberty Jones?” the personal assistant for the Breaking Boundaries Raleigh office called from her desk toward the crowded waiting room. The sound jolted me out of the memory on repeat in my mind, and I tried not to leap from my chair.

  “Present,” I said, slightly breathless as I made it to her desk. She flashed me a sad smile at my attempt to joke, and I swallowed hard.

  “Doctor Bernard will see you now.” She motioned to the office behind her, and I sucked in a sharp breath before entering.

  “Ah, Ms. Jones,” Dr. Bernard said as she greeted me. She stood from behind her desk to shake my hand before we both settled into our seats.

  “Liberty,” I said. “It’s an honor to meet you, Dr. Bernard.”

  She waved me off, leaning back in her winged-back leather chair. “Katherine, please.”

  I nodded, but had no intention of addressing her so informally.

  Her blue eyes were kind, but I could see the strain in them—she was about to deliver bad news. My stomach dropped like I’d swallowed an anvil. “I didn’t get the internship,” I said, finding no need to beat around the bush.

  Her eyebrows raised. “How did you know that?”

  I shrugged. “I’m good at reading people,” I said, though that little talent didn’t extend to Nixon, but I was getting better at it. The memory of his hands on my skin sent a ripple of heat over the ice crystalizing my heart.

  “It’s not that you aren’t qualified,” she hurried to say. “You are. More than, actually. We just don’t have an open internship in our Brazil office right now.”

  Okay, that didn’t sting as much as I thought it would. But why call me in for a personal meeting when this could’ve been relayed in an email?

  “What would you say your biggest aspirations are, Liberty?” Dr. Bernard asked as she fiddled with a ballpoint pen on her desk. “Why Breaking Boundaries?”

  “Well, my mother worked as a missionary while she raised me, so I’ve always been inside the lifestyle. And as she grew older, she built her own non-profit from the ground up. While it would be an honor to work for her, I’d like to gain experience with another organization before deciding what I’d like to settle on career-wise.” I sighed as Dr. Bernard waited for me to continue.

  “My dream?” I said. “I want to bring mental health care to isolated locations who need it most. The program with Breaking Boundaries I applied for would give me the best shot at achieving that dream while also gaining experience from the experts who have paved these roads before me.”

  Dr. Bernard nodded, jotting a few things down inside a leather-bound notebook in front of her. “That’s truly wonderful,” she said. “And you're almost done with your doctorate?”

  “I will by the end of the school year,” I said and smoothed a hand over my tummy.

  A tiny bump was finally starting to show, and I couldn’t wait to start feeling kicks and flips.

  “Brilliant,” she said, setting her pen down. “Would you be interested in interning for our sister company here in the city? I know it’s not abroad or fieldwork, but we are desperate for help. It would gain you some experience with clients, too. Supervised, of course.”

  My spirits lifted at the prospect of gaining some experience and learning from the best resources around. “Absolutely,” I said, but still couldn’t hide the disappointment that I hadn’t been selected for the abroad internship. That would’ve helped me finish my dissertation.

  No room, remember? Not because you aren’t qualified.

  I repeated the words a few more times in my head.

  “Perfect,” she said, standing to come around her desk. I stood as well, shaking her hand. “I’ll have my assistant send along all the information you need, and we’ll get a schedule set up.”

  I nodded. “I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

  “Would you like me to place you on the waitlist for the abroad internship?” Her eyes flashed to the bump my black T-shirt cinched over.

  “Yes,” I answered without hesitation. “I want to go where I’m needed most.”

  Dr. Bernard nodded, holding the door open for me. “Consider your name officially on the list, then,” she said. “With your recommendations, degrees, and goals, I can assure you you’re at the top of it.”

  “I appreciate it,” I said, exiting her office. “And I look forward to working with you.”

  “You, too,” she said, then returned to her desk.

  I kept my chin held high the entire walk to the car I’d claimed as mine since moving in with Nixon. I knew it wasn’t really mine, but I was grateful he’d allowed me to borrow it. Especially now that I’d be adding another part-time position—in addition to teaching a few yoga classes a week—to my full-time class load. God, the mere idea made exhaustion settle over my body. Or that could be the baby was hungry. Or it could be my dreams of jetting off to Brazil to roll up my sleeves and do some real good were dashed in the blink of an eye.

  “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up,” I said a few hours later when I still hadn’t shaken off the blue mood, even with Nixon’s adorable attempt to cheer me up by taking me to one of his favorite restaurants. “But when they called for an in-person meeting…” I shrugged.

  Nixon reached across the table, moving my water glass out of his way to lay his hand over mine. That easily, my body whirred awake for him. “You’ll get there,” he said. “I have no doubts. And it sounds like this position in the city is a major step in advancing your career.”

  “It is,” I said, hating that I sounded ungrateful. “And I’m excited about that for sure. The experience will definitely go a long way if I ever want to open up my own practice.”

  “Do you want to do that?” he asked, finishing off his steak.

  I pushed my cleaned plate to the side, contemplating. “Yes,” I finally said. “One day. I wouldn’t mind having my own office. My own client list.” A steady stream of individuals who I’d do everything to help. Now, exactly where I envisioned that practice someday? Not as easy to picture. I’d grown up on the road my entire life. I’d barely lived in the same city, let alone country, for more than six months at a time. Raleigh was the longest time I’d ever stayed anywhere, and that was because of school and the degrees I needed to achieve my goals.

  “Have you ever considered sports psychology?” he asked, taking a sip of his water.

  I smiled. “Yes, I have,” I said. “I actually have a minor in the subject.” His eyes flared wide, and I shrugged. “There is a tragic connection between head injuries and depression, anxiety…the list goes on and on.” I chewed on my lip, suddenly feeling pulled in so many different directions.

  Because I could see a certain future—one with my own practice where I tended to athletes and came home to a baby and one athlete in particular. I swallowed hard, my chest tightening as that future battled the one I’d always had planned—going abroad to bring mental health awareness and help to those who didn’t have readily access to it. “It’s difficult,” I continued. “To decide which people to help first. Which area of focus to give my top priority.”

  “You have time,” he said. “But I don’t envy the responsibility,” he continued. “I don’t know how you do it. You’ve got a gift for reading people, for being open-minded and accessible while also not pushing.”

  I studied him as he spoke, my heart melting a bit at his assessment of me. The time we’d spent together had definitely allowed him to get a deeper understanding of who I was and what I stood for, but there was still so much he kept hidden. Some long-buried scar tissue I could feel but couldn’t reach.

  “Not everyone is like that,” he said. “Or has the patience for it.”

  I tilted my chin up, the conversation weighing heavy o
n my heart. He’d just complimented me on my ability to not push when that is exactly what I wanted to do. But, his words struck something in me, and I leaned forward over the table a bit. “You’re referring to your ex?”

  Nixon sat up straighter in his chair, his hand sliding off of mine. Pulling away at just the mention of her. God, I hated her for the damage she’d done to him, and I didn’t use the word hate lightly. There were very few people I couldn’t stand, but anyone who would willingly destroy someone for the mere concept of fame and fortune…

  I clenched my jaw to keep from screaming.

  “Maybe,” he said, a slight smirk shaping his lips as his eyes met mine. “Is this where we talk about our past relationships?”

  I cringed. “I’m not sure if I want to know your number.”

  “Ouch,” he said. “It’s not as high as you might think.”

  I arched a brow at him. “Oh yeah?” I teased. “And here I thought you flew girls out to Vegas all the time.”

  That smirk deepened as he leaned closer toward me. “If I recall correctly, it was you who purchased me for the weekend.”

  I chuckled, shaking my head. “Actually, my roommates did,” I said, and I still knew I’d never be able to repay Heather for the way she’d inadvertently changed the course of my life.

  “Who does that?” he teased.

  “Girls who love one another. And who understood the depths of my little crush on you.”

  His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the breath in my lungs tightened. “It’s funny,” he said, his voice low. “I didn’t peg you for a Raptors fan when we first met.”

  I shook my head. “Appearances aren’t everything,” I said. “Not every fan drapes themselves in colors every day.”

  “I’m quite fond of your appearance,” he said.

  I smiled, the blood heating in my veins. “It was a bit of a relief,” I said, a tease in my tone.

  “What?”

  “When I found out you looked just as good without your pads on.”

  Nixon laughed, the full, rich sound dancing over my skin. “So,” he said. “What about you?”