by Cora Bell
I glanced up at him, trying to give a smile I hoped was reassuring, though I had no idea what the rest of my day looked like. “I don’t know. I…” I turned around, searching for shoes. “It’s—I don’t know how long she’s going to need me.”
“Charles can go with you.”
“No!”
His jaw shifted at my sudden outburst.
“I mean, you probably need him here, right? And like I said, I have no idea how long I’m going to be.”
“It’s safer this way.”
My heart softened some, and I walked over to touch his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”
He grabbed my hand, pulling me close. Even though his chiseled face looked as dangerous as ever, I could still see the compassion in his eyes. That and something else.
Fear.
“I don’t like you being out there alone.”
“I can’t stay in here forever,” I whispered.
I realized my mistake the instant I said it. Nash did stay in here. Permanently. This was his life. In his safe space. And he wanted me to stay here with him.
He didn’t speak for a long moment, and I had no idea what to say to him.
My mom had spent days upon end locked in our house. I almost went crazy myself because of it. No. No, not crazy—and I wouldn’t let myself think about that.
But it was still there anyway, haunting my thoughts day in and day out. What if I ended up like her?
Nash didn’t know this secret part of me, and I wasn’t about to tell him now.
He stepped away, breaking our connection. “Let me know if you’re not going to make it back for work.”
“I will.”
He walked away without another word. Without a kiss. Damn it. He was upset. But what was I supposed to do? There was still so much we didn’t know about each other. It would take time.
Not only that, it would take trust. And no matter how much I wanted to believe I completely trusted Nash, I knew I didn’t.
#
“Whisky.”
Layla set the glass in my hand before she sat on the couch next to me. Outside the wall of windows, the night was settling over the city. The lights from the buildings twinkled like stars. It was hard to remember sometimes that there were millions of people out there, living their lives, just like I was.
I’d been secluded up here for so long, with only Charles and my cameras and paintings for company that the world felt like a very, very small place.
And then…Reyna.
It fucked with my head how much she’d changed my world in such a short time. I’d been watching her for months but having her with me in the penthouse was like rejoining the world. Which was why I kept checking my phone every ten minutes, afraid I’d missed her call. Afraid she might not call at all.
“You’ve got it bad.” Layla crossed one leg over the other and quirked the corner of her lips. “You haven’t stopped looking at your phone all night. You let her into your suite!”
“I’m aware of that, thank you,” I growled.
I didn’t need a recap of what had already gone on these last few days. I needed Reyna to pick up the damn phone and call me.
“Then what are you so pissy about?” she asked.
I was worried about her, that’s what. And I was worried about us—especially since us had barely just started. I gritted my teeth and shook my head. I couldn’t explain it to Layla.
“You barely know the girl, right? I mean, you met each other…how many days ago?”
“It’s not like that. She’s worked at the store for months. I’ve seen her down there. I know who she is.”
Layla leaned forward on the couch, studying my face. “Do you really?”
“I do.”
She downed her whisky and set the glass on the table in front of her. “I can’t argue with infatuation—”
“Damn it, Layla. That’s not what this is.”
“Love at first sight?”
“Fuck.” But I couldn’t deny it. I was already so lost in Reyna I couldn’t get her off my mind. I’d been lost in her for months. “She’s…different. She reminds me of…”
“Brianna?” Layla said softly.
I nodded. “And before you say anything, that’s not why I’m interested—or not only why. Something about her is innocent, trusting. She’s not like the rest of those fuckers out there.”
Layla gave me a smile, a soft one, one that said she understood. And she did. She was the only one. “They’re not all like that. You’d see that if you worked on—”
“No.” I stood. “I’m not—I can’t go out there. Not right now.”
“But—”
“Shit. Layla. You can’t force this on me. It’s not time.”
She only stared up at me as if to say, When will it be time? I’d been up here for longer than I planned, justifying it the entire time with the idea that one day I’d get back to the world. I just needed to heal first. But really, deep down, I knew I never really wanted to see the outside again.
Layla stood and set her hand on my arm. “I’m not trying to force anything on you. I just want to see you get back to how things were. And Reyna…well, there might come a day when she’s going to want you to get out, too. There’s a whole world out there—a world she lives in.”
I threw back the rest of my whisky, pretending I didn’t hear her. But the thought had occurred to me more than once. I hadn’t even been able to leave the house to save her from those thugs on the street. What was going to happen the next time she needed me?
My phone rang, and I yanked it from my pocket. Reyna’s name flashed across the screen.
Layla grinned at me. “See? There she is. I’ll let myself out.”
I nodded at her and watched as she got in the elevator. I answered the call. “Reyna.”
“Hi.”
Her voice sounded small. Tired. Far away. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. It was a long day.” She sighed, and I heard something that sounded like keys. House keys, maybe?
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
My stomach clenched. I’d expected her back here tonight. But why? It wasn’t like we lived together. I might feel like I’d known her for years—especially after watching her every move on the cameras—but she didn’t know me.
“I need some time to think,” Reyna said. “Alone.”
Damn it. Think about what? Why couldn’t she think here?
“And the job?” I asked.
She was silent a moment. “I need to think about that, too. Can I have a day?”
Shit. I needed her for the job. I wanted her for me. Or maybe…it was the other way around. But I already knew Reyna was under my skin and I didn’t know how to fix it—or if I even wanted to.
“It’s not you,” she said, sounding guilty like it really was me. “I have stuff going on outside of this…us…and…”
“You can talk to me.”
“Maybe one day,” she said. “Goodnight, Nash.”
She ended the call before I could argue. Before I could convince her otherwise. Damn it! If she was here, I could talk to her. But she was at home—and it might as well be halfway around the world.
I walked to the window, staring in the direction of her apartment. I could be there in ten minutes. I could knock on her front door and pull her into my arms when I saw her. I could brush her hair from her cheek, get her to open up, and then help her leave her worries behind while I made love to her in her bed.
I jerked away from the window and cursed. This wasn’t the first time I’d wished things were different, but it was the first time I realized they’d have to change or my life might as well be over.
CHAPTER TEN
I was still raw from my confrontation with my mom yesterday. She’d yelled at me, told me I was a horrible daughter, and reminded me that I was going to turn out just like her. I’d been too traumatized to go back to Nash’s place afterward. He’d see straight through me.
And how was I
supposed to tell him I was scared as hell about ending up like her? How was I supposed to tell him that fear had me avoiding relationships my whole life?
That wasn’t something he wanted to hear considering I was sure he was interested in more than something casual.
But still, despite all that, I couldn’t stay away. I needed a rock right now, and Nash could be that rock. So, I let myself relax, get a good night of sleep, and then took it easy the next morning. By the time I’d convinced myself I could see him again, it was nearly evening, but I was ready. I’d showered, taken my time with my hair, and dawned my sexiest bra and panties because it made me feel a little naughty knowing what was underneath my clothes. What he might get to see.
I was nervous when I rode up in the elevator for some reason, but when the doors opened and Nash was there, my nerves vanished. Not only that, I couldn’t help but run straight for him.
“Reyna,” he said, surprise in his voice. But his arms closed tightly around me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Everything. “I just…I missed you.”
I didn’t have a moment to regret the admission because he leaned back and kissed me on the lips. “I missed you, too. I didn’t think I was going to see you until tomorrow.”
“I needed to get out. And I wanted to see you.”
He shoulders relaxed, dropping a load of stress I didn’t realize he was carrying. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but then I figured he’d in turn ask me and right now…right now all I wanted to do was be close to him.
To forget.
“I need a distraction,” I said, breathing in deep at the smell of his cologne on his neck.
“I have just the thing.”
He took my hand and pulled me to the studio. He’d moved things around—organized—and now there was one solo canvas on an easel in the middle. He’d done a background, but it was missing something in front.
“Let me paint you,” he said.
I pulled my hand from his. “No, that’s probably not a good idea.”
“I need to, Reyna. Ever since I first saw you—”
“That was only a couple of days ago.”
He lowered his chin, looking like he was struggling with something. “Not a couple of days.”
“Yes, it was. It—oh…the cameras?” I laughed. “You were watching Stephanie because you thought she was stealing, right? I’m sure I was on the cameras, too…”
“I found out about Stephanie because I was watching you.”
My throat dried. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll be back.”
He left the room before I could stop him. Fine. I’d wait. I needed answers.
I stepped closer to the painting, taking note of the lounge chair he’d already splashed on the canvas. Behind me, close to the wall and in front of a colored backdrop, sat the same chair. He’d been prepping for this today—maybe when I’d been gone. Waiting for me to pose for him.
There was a robe on the chair, tossed across the end—also waiting. My heartbeat picked up when I remembered the painting in the store downstairs. The one that looked similar to this one he’d started. And the woman in the painting had been naked.
I sat on the lounge chair, shaking my head. I couldn’t be too upset with Nash. At least he was trying to talk to me—to tell me things. I was still keeping my family a secret from him, and that’s what I’d come here to talk to him about. Eventually.
Maybe after I’d crawled into his bed and let him fuck me until my body was loose and words came more easily.
Nash returned with two glasses of wine. He spotted me on the lounge chair and his eyes darkened immediately—that same heat that seemed to always appear when he wanted me. Naked.
I reached for the robe. “Is this for me?”
He handed me one of the glasses of wine and nodded. “If you’ll do this.”
I took a sip of the wine and then another when I realized talking was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to take off my clothes, feel his eyes on me while he made art.
“Did you want to paint me in this or out of it?”
“The robe is just to help you feel more comfortable before we start.” He kept his eyes on me as he talked. “Once we begin, I want you out of it.”
I stood, toed off my shoes, and then handed my wine to Nash. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t say a word as I shimmied off my jeans and tugged my shirt over my head. When I stood before him in the panties and bra I’d picked out especially for him, he exhaled.
“Reyna,” he whispered.
He wore gray sweats, and it was easy to see his arousal through them. His cock hardened and lengthened, and it was all I could do to keep my cool. I wanted him on me and in me so bad right now, it was a physical ache.
After I removed the lingerie, standing completely naked before him, I took my wine back and pointed to the lounge chair. “Is this where you want me?”
He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Do you really want to know where I want you right now?”
A smile skimmed my lips. “I want you to paint me.”
I sat on the chair and then stretched out on my side, still holding my wine. I sipped it while his eyes simmered with longing. “Like this?”
He stepped forward, and part of me wanted him to lose control again. To rip off his own clothes and shove himself so far into me I couldn’t think of anything else but how rough I wanted it.
Nash’s lips twitched. “We’ll play it your way for now.”
He adjusted my hand to rest on the curve of my hip and tipped my chin up so it could reach the light. Even though it was nearly dark outside the windows, he had lamps and overheads in here and right now, I didn’t think he cared how great the lighting was.
I didn’t either.
Nash leaned down and kissed me briefly on the lips before turning away from me to get his supplies.
#
I’d never painted with a hard-on before. It was distracting as hell. And hot as hell. Reyna was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Soft, milky skin, hair hanging just right over her shoulder. Long enough the tendrils at the end brushed her nipple. Her hip curved seductively, and the lighting worked perfectly so that her middle was in the shadows.
But I could still probably paint every part of her from memory. I’d spent last night dreaming about it. Pressing my face between her legs, licking up the inside of her thighs before I sucked on her clit.
“Are you getting distracted?” Reyna asked from the lounge chair.
She kept her body perfectly still while she lifted her wine to her lips and finished the glass. I could tell she was feeling it. Her smiles had gotten wider, and she’d grown flirtier as the time passed. I could also tell she was as turned on by this as I was.
I growled low in my throat. “You’re a tease.”
She laughed out loud, tossing her head back this time. “You’re the one who wanted this.”
“You want it just as bad as I do.”
I stepped back from the canvas and let my gaze skim her body. This was a good stopping point. I couldn’t wait any longer.
Her lips parted when I took one step toward her. And when she arched her back, tits rounding, nipples puckering, I strode straight to the lounge chair.
Her breath caught in her throat when I hauled her up, devouring her mouth with mine. I licked slow and deep inside her mouth, tasting wine and desire. Her breasts pressed against my chest, making my cock grow to its full length.
I stood and yanked off my sweats and my shirt before pulling her down to her knees. “Reyna.”
Her body was cool against mine, making me feel like I had a fever. I skimmed my hands down to her waist, then pulled her hard against me, pressing my dick into her stomach. A drop of pre-cum slid down my shaft, and I realized she was watching it. She licked her lips.
“Not yet,” I said.
I nudged her back on the chair and hooked my hands behind her knees to pull her ass to the edge. I spread her legs, and if i
t was possible, I got even harder at the moan that came from her lips. Her folds were shiny, wet and ready for me. Just like my dream.
I breathed in deep. “I love how you smell.”
“Nash…”
She was practically thrumming with need, and the only thing holding me back was the unshakeable desire to make this as pleasurable for her as possible.
I slid my hands up her thighs. Her skin was smooth and silky. While her legs were cool to the touch, her center was hot, warm against my tongue when I touched it to her folds.
Reyna groaned, hands reaching for me. She dug them into my hair, and there was something so fucking sexy about her holding my face to her center, begging me to fuck her with my tongue.
“So wet,” I murmured. “Tell me you want me.”
She didn’t hesitate. “I want you. Please.”
I ran my tongue up her slit and then slid it inside her heat. She moaned and then pushed her hips up, urging me on. I took my time licking and stroking with my tongue, and when her moans turned into whimpers, I sucked her clit. She gasped, her fingers squeezing in my hair, and then shouted out as she came.
Her body bowed off the lounge chair, and I held her legs tight to keep them in place while I continued to torment her with my tongue.
“Nash—please. I need—I need—”
She came again, her arousal dripping down her thighs and onto the chair. I gripped her hips, flipping her over so her creamy, white ass was against my cock. She wrapped her fingers around the edge of the chair, and then moaned long and deep when I slid inside of her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I was already so sensitive, my nerve endings exploded at every single movement. When Nash shoved his thick cock inside of me, I almost lost it again. His hands squeezed my hips, telling me it felt as good to him as it felt to me.
He ran his fingers down my spine, hands warm and possessive. “Fuck. Reyna. You feel so good.”
“Don’t stop,” I said, voice muffled. My cheek was mashed against the chair, my breasts flattened, and all I could think was more.
Nash slammed into me harder and faster, the room filling with the sounds of wet flesh, sensual groans, and my breath catching at every thrust.
