Beauty Awakened

by Allyson Lindt

  This would probably become the baby’s room. Thinking about that, how she’d decorate, the murals that would go on the walls, helped lift her mood.

  As long as she didn’t delve too far into the unknown variable that Nathan had become.

  She needed to talk to him. Now might not be the best time, given her emotional state, but it was worse not hearing his voice.

  He didn’t answer when she called. What time was it there? Three in the morning. She should have considered that. She left him a voice mail, and sent a text.

  Tara rolled onto her side to stare at the wall, and hugged her phone to her chest.

  She didn’t realize she had dozed off until she woke up with a crick in her neck and a drool stain on the pillow. This sucked.

  She stumbled into the bathroom to wash her face, rolling her neck and shoulders the entire way there and back.

  How long was she out? A quick check of her phone showed it had been almost four hours. It also showed no call from Nathan.

  This double sucked.

  She desperately needed to stop wallowing. A quick shower later, she felt more refreshed, but her brain still moped.

  Tara did the one thing that had consistently cheered her up since her world started to crumble. She called Nick.

  “Morning.” His voice was aural sunshine when he answered.

  She smiled as she headed back into the guest bedroom. This was the best place to block out the rest of the world, and sink into his company for a little while.

  What about Nathan?

  She wasn’t giving up on him, and she wasn’t using Nick to replace him. The two relationships were separate. “Morning. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Hmm... I have coffee and the day off, and I’m not dressed. I have all the time you want.”

  “Careful with that offer. I might take advantage of you.” Tara wanted to slide into flirting. To sink into the innuendo his words carried. She wanted a friendly ear more.

  “It’s not taking advantage if I say yes. And you don’t sound like yourself. How are you?”

  I’m great, the lie lodged in her throat. I’m miserable. What if she said that and it scared him off?

  Since when did she care?

  Since Nick meant something to her. And this was as good a time as any to find out if he was as good a guy as he seemed. If he shut her out, at least she was already close to rock bottom. “I’ve had worse days, but not a lot of them.”

  Her divorce. But time had numbed that pain, and looking back, it was mostly external stress. She didn’t remember ever having this constant squeeze around her heart before.

  “Tell me everything. I’m listening.” Nick’s sincerity pricked her fragile grip on happiness.

  Tears stung her eyelids, and she swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. It took several stalls and stammers, but she managed to get through relating Nathan’s reaction to the baby, then the story of her Christmas Eve—the fight with her parents.

  By the time she finished, her empty hand shook with the force she used to keep it clenched in a fist. It was the only thing preventing her from breaking down.

  “I’m so sorry.” Nick’s sympathy bled across the lines. “I know that doesn’t help. I’d offer more if I could.”

  “The listening helps. I feel like you’re the only person who’s actually heard what I had to say for days.”

  “You said you don’t want to imagine me there. Would it do any good if I was actually there? Do you want company for New Year’s Eve?”

  Her clipped laugh choked off in a sob. “Are you serious? Don’t answer that if you’re going to say no. I’m buying you a plane ticket right now.”

  “The only thing I’m turning down is the offer to buy my ticket.”

  Tara had the impression from Antonio that something like an international plane ticket, on the holiday week, wasn’t the best idea for Nick’s budget. “It’s my Christmas gift to you.”

  “I...” Nick sighed.

  She didn’t want to do this with him. “Can’t take money from a woman? Is this some sort of twisted pride thing?”

  “I can’t reciprocate a gift like that.” It sounded like it hurt for him to admit it.

  She rolled onto her back to study the patterns in the ceiling. “Gifts don’t work that way. I give you one because I want to. I’ll be hurt if you don’t accept it.”

  “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

  The words carried so much more meaning than she wanted them to. She’d heard that before, under different terms, and twice now the men who said it hurt her anyway.

  Don’t compare Nathan to Marco. That’s not fair.

  Maybe not, but that didn’t stop her from thinking it. “Besides, it means seeing you again. It’s not a completely selfless present.” She forced some levity into her reply.

  Nick’s pause was enough for more doubt to creep into Tara’s thoughts. “It’s the perfect present,” he said. “I’ll take it over socks any day.”

  She could tease him. Ask if he’d said socks or sex. She was too relieved at the idea of seeing him again. “And you’re staying with me.”

  “I have zero desire to argue that. Not even long enough to politely say I shouldn’t.”

  “Because you’re smart.”

  “And sexy,” he said.

  Her laugh came more naturally this time. “And sexy.”

  “Fuck, I love the sound of you happy.” Nick’s light tone was back. “Though, it’s better in person. Your entire face lights up.”

  She probably looked like a loon as she grinned at the light fixture above her head. She didn’t care. “Then you need to get your ass out here ASAP.”

  “I’m already packing my bags.”

  “Before you even get dressed?” Now she felt comfortable teasing. It wasn’t a mask to cover up the hurt, it came naturally, buoyed on the thought of seeing Nick again. “On second thought, that’s perfect.”

  “Yeah? I don’t think they’re going to let me through security in my underwear. I probably have to at least put on pants. And something to keep the rest of me from freezing.” Nick’s sigh this time was exaggerated and lined with amusement.

  “Pft. Take all the fun out of it.”

  “I have this fantasy about seeing you again. Or, a few of them, but a specifically vivid one that’s my favorite.” Nick’s tone dropped an octave.

  The confession squeezed her heart. It made sense, but hearing him say it aloud that husky, sexy voice sent desire dancing over her skin. “Tell me about it.”

  “You’re in your office, drawing. Seated on that tall stool by the drafting desk, with your back to the door. The sunlight is spilling in at just the right angle to give you perfect drawing light without blinding you. You’re caught up in your work, and don’t know I’ve walked in. You look stunning.”

  Tara’d expected a variation on we kiss, we fuck, it’s awesome. The picture he painted with words, and the seduction in his tone, stole her thoughts. “So far, completely plausible.”

  “I approach and watch in silence. Seeing you bring the world to life in pastels has me captivated.”

  Goosebumps raced along her arms and neck. This was turning her on, and he hadn’t said anything naughty yet. “If you stand behind me like that, I’m going to know. I’d tell you it’s impolite to stare, but I like feeling your eyes on me.”

  “Which is good, because I can’t help but watch you. I approach and trace a faint line up your spine. When I reach the edge of your tank top, I follow the lines of your ink instead.”

  The memory of his touch helped draw her into the scene, but the ghost of Nick wasn’t enough. She’d been both right and wrong when she told him it would hurt too much to imagine him here. His descriptions opened an empty pit inside, but his voice was soothing and tantalizing.

  Tara closed her eyes and sank into the story. “I lean back into the feather-light sensation.”

  “With your hair pulled back, it shows off your gorgeous long neck. I drag my
mouth along the pale curve, kissing and occasionally pausing to suck.”

  She wasn’t going to ask how long that journey of kisses was. She was too enthralled by imagining his lips on her skin. “If you keep talking, I’m going to have to make parts of this real.”

  “Then if I tell you I press closer, to reach around and tease your breasts through fabric?”

  She brushed her thumbs over her taught nipples, and sighed at the tingle that spread through her. “I’ll have to do that myself, since you’re not here.”

  “That adds another layer to the fantasy for sure.” He groaned.

  “I won’t be the only one, will I?”

  “If you’re letting me describe the things I’d like to do to you, I’m either jerking off now, or when I hang up.”

  That wasn’t as sensual a picture as sunlight spilling across her while she worked, but it still made need pulse between her thighs. “Now works for me. I hate to masturbate alone.”

  Even his chuckle rolled over her with delicious temptation. “In that case, where were we? I believe I was standing behind you, seeing which buttons make you moan.”

  “Nipples are a good start.” She pushed her shirt up to feel hers. They were more sensitive than she remembered. Not that she minded. Her light touch was enough to make her squirm.

  “If you like that, how would you feel if I moved lower? Along your stomach, past your waist, to tease you through your jeans. Pressing the seam into you until you’re grinding against my hand, whimpering and pleading in that heart stopping breathy voice you get when you’re turned on.”

  “I have a voice I get?”

  “That one right there.”

  Christ, he was doing wicked things to her body, and she’d barely touched herself. That needed to change. She undid her jeans and slid her hand underneath, teasing herself through her panties. It was tempting to push harder. To shove the rest of her clothing aside and feel how wet she was. She didn’t want to come yet, though.

  “When I’ve teased you to the point where you’re squirming and I’m so hard I’m worried my zipper might burst, I spin you to face me,” Nick said. “I love your legs wrapped around my waist, but there’s too much clothing in the way.”

  Tara agreed. She shoved her bottoms down, gasping at her first brush against bare skin.

  “I yank your pants off, but I want you on that tall seat after.” Nick’s words were a series of growls peppered with grunts. “It feels so good when you slide down my zipper. And you’re so tight and slick when I finally thrust inside you.”

  She didn’t have any words. Her gasps would have to suffice as response. She shoved two fingers inside herself. When she brushed her clit, her hips bucked to get closer to the touch. She couldn’t hold back. She stroked and teased herself, and orgasm tore through her.

  But it wasn’t enough. “Don’t stop.” She managed to say. “Keep going, please.”

  “I hammer inside you, struggling to keep from coming too quickly. Your skin is delicious, and I’m sucking on your neck. Drowning in the faint scent of flowers and chalk.”

  She continued to finger herself, pushing past the discomfort of hypersensitive bits. Climax built inside again. She never got off twice when she was masturbating. “I’m so close again.”

  “Fuck, you undo me.” Nick’s response was as much grunt as language. His panting and groans said he was close too. “You’re wrapped around me, so tight and wet. I can’t hold out anymore. Especially when you squeeze my cock the way you do...”

  The trail off of his voice, blending into a long groan, was enough to shove her over the edge again. She’d missed that sound.

  Nothing but gasps for breath filled the line for several seconds.

  “I need you here,” she said when she could speak again. “The sooner the better. Now.”

  “I’ll hop a plane first thing tomorrow.”

  It wasn’t soon enough, but if she had to, she could wait just that little bit longer.

  NICK WAS USED TO A whisper of anticipation thrumming through him when he got home from a trip.

  As Wyatt pulled up to the curb at the airport, Nick’s eagerness was dialed past kid on Christmas Eve, and was closer to virgin on his wedding night.

  “I have enough frequently flier miles to add a leg to your flight, if you wanted to make a stop in Chicago.” Wyatt might as well be asking about the weather based on his tone. He put the car in Park and climbed out with Nick.

  Nick grabbed his bags from the trunk, puzzling over the question. “Why would I— Fiona told you.” He should have guessed. It seemed like he should be upset, but he was grateful to have it out there.

  “Fiona tells me a lot.” Wyatt shut the trunk. “Go talk to this guy. See what comes out of it. Nothing more.”

  Nick didn’t like seeing the couple fighting. That didn’t mean he wanted to play mediator between Tara and Nathan. Especially from Nathan’s side of the street. If Nick was going to be an objective third party, he was taking Tara’s side. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Give me five minutes with my agent. I can swap your flight using my miles, and you can take a detour.” Wyatt pulled his phone from his pocket, and was already swiping the screen.

  Discomfort blended with Nick’s uncertainty. Why was everyone paying for his flights? This offer made him feel worse than the one from Tara. He had been a fairly serious ass to Wyatt.

  Nick and Fiona took care of each other, but this was different. It tugged at feelings he couldn’t identify. “Why would you do that?”

  “We’re family.”

  Nick expected to bristle at the words. But it’s true. “That still doesn’t make this a good idea.” Who would he piss off more if he dropped in on Nathan unexpectedly? The two of them knew each other. If they couldn’t work things out, Nick wouldn’t make a difference.

  So why was he considering it?

  Chapter Eight

  Nathan sketched out a few lines, not sure what he wanted to draw. He let his hand flow where it needed to. Maybe this one would become more than the muddled mess than the ten before it.

  Drawing sweeping arcs wasn’t as satisfying on an eight-by-ten-inch pad, but there was still a freedom to it.

  When he was doing this, his mind could wander. Sometimes toward Tara, but he hadn’t found answers there yet. Mostly his brain drifted into silence. That was a relief.

  He needed to call her. Talk through how he felt about a child. He didn’t have an answer though.

  He needed to go home. Why was he still here? Because bitterness needed to see his bastard father in the ground. How horrible did that make Nathan as a person?

  His phone rang, drawing him from rambling tangent. He’d sketched a swirl of abstract with the faint outline of a woman in the center. Nude. Stunning. And pregnant.

  So much for a blank mind.

  He grabbed his phone. “Yeah.”

  “Hey. How are you?” Nick’s familiar voice was a new layer to frustration that Nathan didn’t need.

  “Peachy. You? Is Fiona all right?” It seemed like an eternity ago that Nathan and Tara said goodbye to Nick and put him in a cab to the airport to go home and check on his sister.

  “She’s good. Probably dealing with a broken arm better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “Great. Glad to hear it.” Nathan wasn’t in the mood for small talk. It was tempting to ask What the fuck do you want? He settled for, “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m just leaving O’Hare. Wondered if you want to grab a late lunch.”

  “Why are you in Chicago?” Asking was easier than acknowledging the unwelcome skip of glee that it was the case. Nick was probably here for business. Nothing to get excited over.

  “To see you.”

  Well fuck the butterflies in Nathan’s stomach. His world was in tatters, several of the tears his own making. But he was giddy that the sexy guy he gave a blow job to one, the man who was fucking his girlfriend, wanted to have lunch. Flew halfway across the country for it
.

  “I can’t. I’m swamped with funeral plans.” As in, planning to go to the funeral. Which wasn’t for a few days, but the excuse sounded good.

  “I heard about that. My sympathy.”

  Nathan barked a laugh. “The only thing I want sympathy for is that the bastard held on so long.” To life. To his bitterness and prejudice. That made Nathan sound like an asshole. Did he care?

  “Then I’m sorry for that.” Nick sounded sincere. “What can I do? Either with the planning or the distracting.”

  “Help how? Bringing back the bigot of a father who made some of his dying words an insistence he was going to Hell because his son was a queer freak?” He winced as the words passed his lips. He didn’t mean to expose that much of himself, and he definitely didn’t intend for his bitterness to show through.

  “Like pick up any of the millions of tasks that need to be done?” Nick’s even tone never wavered. Of course, the smooth asshole. “I’ve been through this before. I have a little experience with what comes next, and it can be overwhelming when you’re in a good frame of mind. Right now...”

  Nathan didn’t want to let go of his foul mood or the lingering clouds, but talking to someone who wasn’t demanding he feel or think or decide anything specific beyond lunch? was a relief. “My aunt has it covered. As tempting as it is to help just to spite the old man, he doesn’t deserve any more of my time. I’m only going to the funeral to see him put in the ground.” God, it felt good to admit that to someone. I probably shouldn’t, but Nathan couldn’t help himself.

  And if Nick judged him for it, fuck that guy.

  “Then I can offer a friendly face, in the midst of what sounds like the ultimate shitty week. Tell me where I can meet you.”

  Nathan could use a bit of congenial, non-judgmental company. He wished it wasn’t Nick’s smug, perfect visage, but at the same time he was grateful it was. “There’s a Cracker Barrel next to my motel.” He rattled off an address and brief instructions.

  “Is the motel any good?”

  “It’s clean and quiet.” Nathan didn’t care about much else from his living quarters right now.