by Jaci J
Shay instantly puts her paddle up with serious fucking determination. She waves it around, causing the auctioneer to laugh.
But she’s not the only bidder. Some old fucker with a handlebar mustache bids, glaring at Shay in the process. She just gives him a wicked little wave before putting her paddle back up when the auctioneer moves the bid up.
“Fifty-five hundred,” the auctioneer announces.
Shay’s paddle stays up, but so does the asshole’s.
“Havin’ fun, baby?” I ask her, deciding on whether or not I’m going to have to break the old fucker’s neck for her if she doesn’t win this shit.
She nods, smiling.
They go back and forth, until I end that shit real quick. I give the guy a look, letting him know I’m not playing this fucking game with him and my girl. She wants that goddamn trip, she’s gonna get it. He gets it, because his paddle goes down.
And I let her do thing. I let her bid, with my paddle, on a trip that would have cost me four grand. But she’s happy, and when she’s happy, I seem to be happy.
The auctioneer makes it to eleven grand before Shay’s the last bidder. He slams the gavel and Shay whoops loudly. “I won!”
“You won.”
“You paid,” she adds, smirking in my direction.
“That’s all right. I can think of a few ways you can pay me back.”
Shay laughs. “Oh yeah?”
Oh, fuck yeah.
Grabbing around the back of her neck, I pull her face to mine and kiss that little fucking smirk right off her lips, and it works. She kisses me back, her lips soft and pliant.
“Yeah, baby,” I growl, pulling away and looking at her face.
Shay’s flushed, her lips swollen, and her lipstick smeared.
Running my thumb under her plump bottom lip, I wipe away some of the red lipstick on her skin. “Got a little somethin’ right there.”
She rolls her eyes and stands up. “I’m sure I do.”
“Where you goin’?”
“Bathroom.”
“Yeah? Need a hand?” I ask, watching her ass move through her skintight dress as she walks away from me.
From over her shoulder, she looks at me, a brow raised in challenge.
She doesn’t have to say a goddamn thing. I’m up and out of my seat, following her in a fucking heartbeat.
20
Shay
Niko is right behind me. I know this because I can feel the heat from his body radiating against my back, and his breath on my neck when he growls, “Shay,” against my ear.
He pushes through the bathroom door, his hand snaking out from behind me to push it open and hold it for me. “In,” he growls, letting the door slam closed behind me when I step inside.
Stepping back, I hear him twist the lock behind us.
The bathroom is small. One stall, with a vintage vanity.
My body is on fire with the way he looks at me, swallowing me whole with his eyes, devouring me with a single look.
“You scared, baby?”
“No.”
“No?” He’s not buying what I’m selling. “Hearts beatin’ pretty goddamn hard,” he tells me, nodding at my chest, “for you not to be scared. Not gonna hurt you.”
“You’re not?” I tease, leaning back against the vanity.
“Nah.”
I don’t know if I believe him.
Niko takes a couple of steps toward me, his massive body eating up the small space between us. His frame is intimidating, but he doesn’t scare me as much as he turns me on.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” I whisper, watching his hand land on my hip, his fingers gripping me and pulling me away from the vanity.
Niko’s brows raise thoughtfully before he answers. “Probably not.”
“Then why are we doing this again?”
“Because I can’t keep my fucking hands off you.” Kissing my lips, he puts his hands around my hips, lifting me up and setting me on the sink counter.
Grabbing my dress, he pulls it up around my waist and stands between my thighs, his body flush with mine.
I don’t stop him.
I don’t tell him there are people on the other side of the bathroom door.
I don’t tell him this is bad idea, again.
I let him hike my dress up around my waist.
I let him pull my panties to the side.
I let him slide two thick fingers inside of me.
“Jesus Christ, baby,” he growls, looking between my legs and watching his fingers sink into my body.
His eyes are hard, focused, and hungry.
His fingers are skilled, hitting a spot inside of me that makes my back bow and my toes curl. The heel of his hand rubs on my clit, and I swear to God, I see stars.
“Niko,” I moan, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails cutting into his skin.
He works me up, fingering me until I can’t control the words and noises coming out of my mouth.
Someone’s knocking on the door, beating on it rather, and I can’t keep my mouth closed. “Fuck!”
Niko grunts, pulling his fingers out of me and replacing them with his cock, sliding deep.
“No condom?” I pant, losing focus.
“Shit. I’ll pull out.”
“Will you?”
He smirks against my lips. “Maybe.”
Fucker.
Hooking his arm under my knee, he lifts my leg, wrapping it around his waist, hitting me at the perfect angle.
He’s deep inside of me, working me over, each stoke better than the last. He’s good—so fucking good.
My body starts to shake and I come hard.
“Jesus Christ, Shay,” Niko groans, his face buried in my hair. He’s breathing hard, coming down from his own high. “You gave all those fuckers outside the door a damn good show.”
My cheeks heat, and hide my face in his chest as I groan, completely embarrassed.
“Don’t do that shit.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you didn’t enjoy all nine inches I gave you,” he mocks, kissing my forehead.
“You’re such an asshole.”
“You keep telling me that, but you’re still here, baby.”
Niko
“ARE YOU GONNA ASK ME to dance?” Shay grips my arm as we walk out of the bathroom together, every fucking asshole waiting in line glaring at us. She couldn’t give a fuck less about their eyes on her, judging her. The only thing she cares about is me, and if I’m going to dance with her.
“I don’t dance.”
“Yes, you do.”
That makes me laugh. “You know this how?”
“If you can fuck, you can dance.”
“That some sorta scientific fact?”
“Yes.”
“You’re full of shit, baby.”
The smile she gives me does it. I’ll do any goddamn thing she asks me when she smiles at me like that.
Taking her hand in one of mine, and wrapping the other around her waist, I pull her into me and spin her around dramatically.
“You’re going to make me sick.”
“The words every man wants to hear.” Slowing down and doing it right, I rock her from side to side, in time with the music.
“I’m romantic. What can I say?”
She’s something, all right.
“You know, when I first met you, I hated you,” she tells me, licking her lips nervously, like it was a secret. “But you’re kind of growing on me the longer you’re around.”
That’s not the first time a woman’s told me that she hated me, or that I was an asshole, but it’s the first time it bothered me hearing it. I don’t know why, but it did. I know I’m a prick—an asshole—but when it comes to Shay, I want her to think more of me, or at least like me more than that.
“Oh yeah?” I ask, my hand on her hip squeezing, playing it off like her words didn’t get to me.
“Yeah. You’re still an asshole, but not quite as bad as when you
yelled at me the first day we met.”
“I yelled at you, huh?”
“Basically, you called me a ho and told me my work sucked,” she laughs, enjoying giving me hell, her eyes twinkling with trouble.
Jesus, this woman. She’s fucking bewitching. The way she smiles and laughs. Her attitude and bad mouth. Fuck, she makes it hard not to want her, to want more from her.
“Niko?” she says softly, looking up at me with her big brown eyes.
“Yeah, baby?”
“You’re not too bad.” She smiles at me, and it’s fucking brilliant because it’s genuine.
That smile instantly melts, the reason standing a few feet away from me.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” I ask my ex-wife, my voice getting loud. “I fucking told you your name was off the list.”
Arms crossed, she purses her lips. “They invited us.”
This bitch is so goddamn dumb. “That was two years ago.”
“So?”
I’ve still got Shay in my arms, but her body is rigid. She’s uncomfortable. Putting her hand in my chest, she looks up at me. “I’ll give you some space.”
“Like you did when you left my fucking place the other day and I didn’t hear from you for days? Yeah, not happenin’.”
“Niko,” she argues, pushing on me.
On the dance floor, with hundreds of people around us, we’re doing this shit, having a goddamn domestic drama in front of the whole goddamn town.
“Shay,” I fire back, my hands on her tightening. “You’re not going any damn where.”
Mikayla rolls her eyes. “Still as bossy as ever,” she huffs, looking at the ceiling.
That does it. Shay pushes me hard enough and I let her go, let her walk away.
I want to follow her.
“Your ass better be miles down the road when I get back in here, Mikayla.”
She frowns. “Why are you so damn mean?”
“Why do you have no self-control and fuck every man within a fifty-mile radius?” I ask, walking around her and going after Shay. “Stay the fuck outta my way.”
She doesn’t say any-goddamn-thing, because I don’t give her chance to.
21
Shay
“Who is she?” I hate that I’m being this woman, hate that I have to ask, but I can’t keep doing this and not knowing.
Outside, on a beautiful marble patio overlooking the ocean, I look at Niko as he follows me outside. I’m looking for a reaction, an emotion. Guilt. Anger. Shame. Something. But I find nothing.
Reaching into his suit jacket, I watch him pull out a pack of smokes and light one up.
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. I just watch him inhale the smoke, his eyes on the ocean. He’s thinking, and it scares me.
“Niko?” I snap, tired of waiting for an explanation.
Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he finally looks at me, his head turning toward me slowly. His eyes search mine before he answers simply, “My ex-wife.”
His ex-wife?
He was married?
I feel like the Earth shifts, everything sliding to the right a little. I feel thrown off by his words because they were the last thing I expected him to say.
“Your ex-wife,” I repeat, using the moment to try and digest his answer.
I’m not sure if it’s the wine or his words, but suddenly, I don’t feel so good anymore.
“You heard me, baby,” he breathes, pulling the cigarette from between his lips and replacing it with his drink. I look at his neck, the way his tattoo bobs with each hearty swallow.
Watching his strong tattooed hand hold the thin glass cup, I know he could give it a squeeze and break it easily, the same way he could with my heart, if I let him.
“Why is she here?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” he grunts, sarcastic, putting the empty glass down on the patio railing.
“Are you still...with her?” I can’t believe I’m asking him this. Scratch that. I can believe it. I’ve asked this question too many times with too many different men, and each time, they served me the same no that Niko’s giving me.
“Fuck no.”
“I’m not sure I believe that.”
Niko cuts a quick look at me, his eyes narrowed. “Yes, you do. You fucking believe me. I can see it in your pretty brown eyes. You trust me.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Probably not.”
“Then why do I?” The question is more for myself than for him. I don’t understand why I trust him so damn much. Especially with my history and track record.
Niko steps close, pulling his suit jacket off and putting it over my shoulders. I don’t even realize I’m cold until his warm coat is draped over my arms. “I’m a fucking asshole, baby, but you know goddamn well I won’t lie to you. I have no reason to.”
A sarcastic laugh tumbles from my mouth. “I’m not sure I believe that either. Why wouldn’t you tell me about your ex-wife?”
“Why the fuck would I?” Niko retorts, taking another drag from his smoke. He savors it, his eyes closing for a brief moment before opening and glaring at me.
Neither of us say anything, both of us watching the other.
There’s not a chance in hell I’m going back into the party with Niko.
“I guess there’s no fucking reason you would tell me.”
“Don’t expect shit from me, baby, other than the truth.”
“I don’t. I just hoped for a little honesty after the shit you said to me at the bar.”
Niko runs a hand through his messy hair, frustrated. “Every goddamn thing I told you at the bar was true. Make an asshole work for it. Make any guy in your life respect you, to earn you.”
“But just not you, right?”
“Shay,” he sighs, grabbing for me, trying to pull me to him. “That shit includes me too.”
“Then why wouldn’t you just tell me you were married from the beginning? If it’s no big deal, which I hope it isn’t, then why not just mention it? Why let me be surprised, twice, by your ex-wife?”
“No goddamn point in mentioning her because she’s not in my fucking life. She’s not anything.”
“But your ex-wife,” I add, irritated by how trivial he’s making this out to be. “She’s something, or she was something.”
“Jesus, Shay, this bitch has fuck all to do with my life.”
“Yet she still calls you, shows up at your house, and now here? I’m not a jealous person, and I’m not some crazy chick, but this is too much for me.”
“Are we havin’ fun?” For the second time tonight, he’s completely flipping the conversation.
“What?”
“Are. We,” he motions between us, “Having. Fun?”
He knows the answer to that question. “Yes.” We have been having fun, and I’m worried the fun is turning into something more than just that, more than just a good time. “But—”
“No, Shay, we’re havin’ fun. None of the extra bullshit.”
The way he says it, like there’s no room or chance for anything else, hits me in the stomach, even though I know it shouldn’t. I shouldn’t expect anything from Niko. But, like a love-struck idiot, I do, and I only have myself to blame.
I’m bad at love.
Of course this is how it would happen.
“Just fun,” I mutter, hating the way it sounds, but he’s right. I didn’t go into this looking or wanting anything, and neither did he. In fact, I went into this not looking for anything at all. I went into this for fun.
Niko grabs me, his hand on the back of my neck, pulling my face to his. “Lots of fucking fun, baby.”
His lips on mine hurt, but I’m concentrating on the pain radiating through my chest and stomach. I want more than anything to tell him this feels like more than fun, but can’t get the words past the lump in my throat.
I’m so bad at this shit.
Niko
I FEEL LIKE A FUCKING fraud telling Shay we’re only having fun, but it�
��s all I can give her, and she’s taking that shit serious and to heart. Having Mikayla show up at my place and at the auction just drove that point home, drove home the fact that I’m not looking for a relationship.
But now I’m paying for it, and it’s at the hands of a five foot four, brown-eyed savage.
“Wanna grab a drink after you’re done?” I hear Kendra ask Shay. They’re both in the bar, Shay finishing working on the painting, and Kendra slacking off from work. They’ve been in there for hours, bullshitting and eating pizza.
“Can’t. I have a date.”
I about come unglued hearing that shit.
Fuck no she doesn’t.
Putting my gun down and tearing off my gloves, I head toward the bar, leaving my client lying there, his tattoo half finished. “Be right back,” I growl, before slamming my door closed.
Pulling the door open, I walk in, letting the door slam shut behind me. “Kendra, there are people in the waiting room.”
She looks at me funny. “So?”
“So get the fuck back to work.”
She rolls her eyes, pushing past me and walking back into the shop, leaving Shay and me alone.
Shay doesn’t acknowledge me.
Her back to me, I watch her paint. On her tiptoes, the paintbrush above her head in her outstretched arm, she paints the sunset. Burnt orange. Crip yellow. Deep red. The woman’s got fucking talent.
And she’s almost done showcasing that talent, and once she’s done here, I won’t have an excuse to see her every damn day, and that shit scares me.
Walking up behind her, I slip a hand around and place it on her stomach, pulling her back against me. “Looks good, baby.”
“Thanks.”
Turning her around, I press her back against the wall, grabbing her hips and lifting her up. She wraps her legs around my waist, her hands draped over my shoulders.
“What are you doin’?” she laughs, eyes burning with trouble. I know she’s about to give me hell.
Fuck, this woman gets to me. Drives me fucking crazy.
“Not a goddamn thing.”
“Oh really?” She wiggles against me, her pussy pressed against my cock. I can damn near feel the heat of her through my fucking jeans. “That’s good then, because I’ve gotta go,” she tells me, forcing me to put her down.
