Nicky's Fire

by Nancy Fornataro

  When he came back, she was lying on the bed, watching him with bright eyes.

  He lay beside her.

  "How long has it been for you, Nick?" she said, as his hand stroked her face, "How long since you've been with a woman?"

  "Oh, about three minutes."

  "You know what I mean."

  He grinned. "About three years, actually."

  "Tell me about Anne. The one you said you were serious about."

  He shifted onto his back, while her hand ran over the hard muscles on his stomach. Her touch was light and he closed his eyes. "She was my first love. We went together in high school. We never did marry. That was my fault. I guess I was stupid for not marrying her, although it probably wouldn't have worked out."

  "Why is that?"

  He chuckled. "She found someone else. I guess she felt like she needed to test the water, get her feet wet with him and probably others, too. Then she was back, six months later, begging to come back to me. I told her no. I just had too much bitterness towards her."

  "Yes. I can understand. There aren't any guarantees, I suppose. Nicky, do you love me?"

  His eyes met hers. "You're mine now, baby. Yes, you are. And it took you long enough to tell me, too. I thought I'd never hear you say it. Jesus." he ran a hand through his hair, and sighed.

  "Then let's stop playing these games."

  "I want you again..." his voice trailed off, and she looked down at his hardness.

  "I can see that. Then let's...and don't worry, I'm wearing my diaphragm, Nick."

  He grinned, but then his lips met hers hungrily, like a dying man thirsty for water, tasting, wanting more and more of her.

  Chloe stroked him with a gentle touch, increasing his throbbing with her caresses.

  He groaned and turned her on her back. Poised above her, he whispered urgently, "Tell me again. I can't hear it enough."

  "I love you, Nick," she whispered back.

  As he bore down, deeply within her now, he relished the silken feel of her, as he watched her eyelids flutter, then close.

  Bringing his hands up under her buttocks, so she could receive more of him, he said softly, urgently, "Come for me, Chloe. Come for Nicky."

  She uttered a strangled cry, and her body writhed against him. He increased his thrusts, knowing, feeling she was close.

  He hungrily sucked her breasts, one then the other, as she arched her back. He stopped, momentarily, and her eyes opened. Soft eyes, trusting eyes, so full of love for him.

  He teased her lips with his own, sucking first the lower, then the upper. His tongue ran around her swollen lips, then inside her mouth, which was parted slightly now.

  "Please." she whispered, "don't stop."

  "Why not?" he said, with a small smile playing on his lips.

  "I need you."

  "You want to come for Nicky?" he whispered against her lips.

  She nodded.

  As he thrust the full length of himself into her, she gasped, but then he stopped again.

  "You're sure." he was grinning down at her now, teasing. She opened her eyes, and when he saw the innocence there, and the passion, he couldn't control himself. The grin faded from his face, a groan emitted from his throat, and he pushed forward deeply, firmly, and his passion soared with hers.

  She cried out, many times, as they moved together easily, as one. And Nicky felt a passion and a love for her like he'd never known before, closeness far from anything he'd ever experienced. And to his delight, Chloe came for him. Time and time again.

  Chapter Nine

  The next day, they were all in the pool, lazily soaking up the Mexico sunshine.

  "This is nice," Chloe said, as she swam next to Nick.

  "Yeah," he said, in a low voice, "we'll have to come back when we can enjoy it." He eyed her tiny bikini through half-closed eyes, then ran his hand along the waistband.

  "Oh, I don't know," she said languidly, not moving to stop the roving hand, "you seemed to be enjoying yourself last night."

  He grinned, and pulled her towards him.

  The phone rang, and Max cursed as he went to answer it.

  He came back a few minutes later, with a disgusted look on his face. "We've got to go home, Tess. The baby's sick, and Marisa's freaking out. This sucks. And you want another one?" He stared at Tessie hard. And as Chloe glanced up at Nick, the same thought was in both their minds...Max was not a happy man.

  On the plane, Nick turned to Chloe. "Any regrets?"

  She smiled, then whispered, "None whatsoever. Now, we won't have to play act. I really am your old lady."

  The next few days passed blissfully for Chloe. The hovel seemed like a paradise, and the nights were spent in sensual abandon, with Nick bringing her pleasures she felt almost guilty receiving. And she found herself wondering what the future held for them both.

  The day of their ride to Red Rock dawned sunny and bright. And Chloe realized she'd been so happy, she'd almost forgotten their purpose there; to catch the distributor, to nail the perpetrators. It was time to get serious.

  "You ready, baby?" Nick called from outside.

  "Be right there!" Chloe felt like she was forgetting something. Standing in the bedroom, she just couldn't think of what it was. It was something she needed to do before they left. Finally, shrugging, she gave it up and headed for the bike.

  They proceeded from the clubhouse, two by two, on Pacific Coast Highway, like before. As they rolled down the highway, Nick yelled, "Let's catch up to Max and Tessie."

  She nodded, and looked out over the ocean.

  He accelerated, but as he pulled out to pass Tiny, the bike hit an oily spot in the road. And Chloe froze, as she felt Nick lose control of the motorcycle. The bike veered first to the right, then the left, with sickening sweeps, as he struggled. And she panicked when she realized Nick wasn't wearing a helmet. He'd forgotten it, and he hadn't wanted to go back.

  The next few seconds were a blur. She saw traffic heading towards them; she screamed, heard horns blasting, and finally felt herself thrown free of the bike. She landed on her back with a hard thump, and she couldn't breathe. Her hands felt sand, coarse and grainy. Clutching at it for stability, her head reeled and the sun faded in and out.

  Finally, when she was able to understand what happened, she realized she'd landed on a sand dune. Nick had tried to steer the bike towards the soft sand. But where was he?

  "Nick?" she called weakly. Then she heard traffic screeching, voices, people running. Her breaths came in short gasps, and the sound of it seemed far away, like the breaths belonged to someone else. Then she heard someone calling her. Someone else screamed.

  "Chloe!" Tessie's voice screeched. Then Chloe saw the woman's blonde head and concerned face peering down at her.

  "Nick. Where's Nick?"

  "Don't move, Chloe! Max called an ambulance on his cellular phone. They'll be here soon. Nick's over there. I think...I think he'll be okay."

  Then, everything faded to black.

  When she regained consciousness, Chloe realized she was in a busy emergency room. Soft rustles sounded nearby. Her tongue rolled around her dry lips, and the faint odor of antiseptic was present. She felt all right, though, nothing hurt.

  "Nick." she breathed.

  An elderly nurse in green scrubs stepped over to her bedside. She said softly, as she smiled, "So, you decided to join us."

  Chloe felt the nurse taking her pulse with a warm, practiced hand, as she said more insistently, "My boyfriend."

  "What's his name?" The woman's gray head shook, and she clicked her tongue against her teeth. "There were a few people crunched in that accident. I hate motorcycles. I wish they hadn't asked me to fill in down here today. This is terrible. I can't tell you the amount of head injuries we've had in here-"

  "My boyfriend," Chloe repeated urgently, "please! His name is Nick." She couldn't remember the last name he was using, and she didn't want to say Webster.

  "Yes. He's across the hall. Nice-looking guy. H
e's got a head injury. That's all I can tell you right now, unless you're family."

  Chloe thought for a minute "He doesn't have any family. I'm it." She wasn't sure. He'd told her his parents were dead. He hadn't mentioned anyone else.

  "Oh, I see. That's different. Here, why don't you sit up? You're going to be fine, just fine," she soothed.

  The nurse pushed a button on the bed. Chloe was sitting now, and said anxiously, "I'm okay. But what about Nick?"

  Chloe's eyes searched, but a green curtain was drawn around her bed. Someone moaned in the next bed over.

  A young doctor entered, examined her, then she asked him, "Nick. My boyfriend..."

  "She's family," the nurse added.

  "I see," he said, still making notes on Chloe's chart. "He's had a head injury and he has a slight concussion. It's hard to say how it will go with him." Then he smiled. "You'll be fine, though. You were in shock. Happens often after accidents like this."

  "What do you mean? About Nick?"

  "There may be memory lapses. Amnesia. He didn't remember his name when he came to. You'll have to watch him. I'd like to keep him overnight, but he's chomping at the bit to get out of here. Doesn't like hospitals much, does he?"

  Chloe shook her head. No, she was sure he wouldn't. But, he was all right! Her relief was immense. "What should I watch for? Can he go home?"

  "Yes. I can't keep him here against his will. Watch for dizziness, vomiting, and lethargy. Anything like that occurs; bring him back here, pronto. He can rest or sleep, but wake him up every few hours. He'll have quite a headache for a couple days. And see if you can convince him to stay off that motorcycle. It could save his life."

  Chloe smiled at the thought of telling Nick to stay off his Harley. Then, she remembered the first time she'd seen him. Born to ride. That was Nick.

  Nick's mind wandered, as he looked up at the tiles in the ceiling. He remembered riding on a motorcycle. But, where was he going? And who was he with? He felt hazy. He knew he hated hospitals, though, and he wasn't about to stay here. But then, he couldn't remember where he was supposed to go when he got out.

  He felt someone moving next to him. A soft voice said, "Nick?"

  A sweet sensation. He knew that voice. Who was it? Turning his head slightly, he saw her. Long brown hair, big exotic brown eyes. God, she was beautiful. Wracking his brain, trying to come up with her name, he watched her, unsure of what to say. Who was she? Was he supposed to know her?

  The big brown eyes started filling with tears, and her hand came up to her mouth. Then, he remembered another time. She'd been crying then, too, for some reason, and he'd kissed her. At night...somewhere by the ocean. A wonderful kiss. He remembered that much.

  "Don't cry," he said, "please." Her name, what was her name?

  "Okay," she replied softly, and her hand came down and rested on his arm. Her touch was light, delicate, and he liked it.

  "How's your head?" she asked, as she gazed down at him and squeezed his hand.

  "It hurts," he said ruefully. What an understatement. He felt like it would explode any minute.

  "Yes. The doctor said it would hurt for a few days. I was just so relieved when I found out." The tears started again, and she bent down and hugged him. Her hair was so soft, and she smelled like jasmine. The scent was familiar, but he still couldn't remember her name.

  Chloe drew back from him. His expression was vacant, and she found herself almost relieved as Max walked in.

  Then, she saw something flicker in Nick's eyes. Recognition. He grinned a lopsided grin and said, "Max. Hey man, good to see you."

  "Yeah. Quite a spill you took. One of the hazards of riding. Good thing you have a hard head. Got the Lexus outside, to take you home."

  "My bike?"

  "We had it taken to your garage. You can work on it when you feel better. No hurry."

  The doctor came in, explained some things to Nick, then reluctantly released him.

  "Remember what I told you," he said to Chloe, "watch him."

  Max dropped them off at the house, and Chloe put her arm around Nick's waist, and helped him inside. The same vacant look was in his eyes, as he gazed around the tiny living room. Leaning against her, he wondered where the hell he was.

  "How do you feel?" she asked softly.

  "Like I just got run over by a truck," he replied, looking down at her, trying to smile. Was this his house? Is this where he lived with this beautiful woman? Depression took hold of him suddenly, as she helped him to the couch and he held his aching head. He knew he should remember it, but he didn't. Not at all. Nothing made sense. It was as if he'd walked into someone else's life.

  She sat next to him, and put her hand softly on his back. But her touch stirred something deep within him. She seemed like she belonged here, yet she didn't. It was strange, and it gave him an eerie feeling. Almost as if he didn't belong here either.

  "Why don't you lie down?" she said softly.

  He nodded, and stretched out. His large frame settled comfortably into the contours of the old sofa. Yes, he remembered sleeping here sometimes. His eyes closed, and he drifted off.

  When he woke up, she was moving around in the kitchen making dinner, and it was almost dark outside. And a man sat with her, a big man, fat, with stringy hair.

  "Tiny," he said. Yes, he remembered Tiny, his friend. The big guy. Not too bright, but good for a laugh.

  The man lumbered over and sat on a chair. "Hey, asshole. How's your head, man?"

  Nick sat up, and winced. "It hurts."

  Chloe headed towards the front door, and said cheerfully, "Takin' the garbage out here, boss."

  When she left, Nick looked at Tiny, and said urgently, "What's her name, Tiny?"

  "Huh?" The man looked at him, shocked, and his mouth fell open.

  "I can't...tell me her name."

  "Wow. Her name is Chloe." Tiny frowned, and looked at him questioningly. "You don't know your old lady? Jesus, Nick, you musta got hit hard."

  Chloe. Yes, of course. How could he forget that? His eyes met Tiny's. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

  Tiny grinned. "Yeah. If you ever don't want her anymore, let me know, man. I could use an old lady. Hey, you want a joint?"

  Something in Nick wanted to say no, but he nodded instead.

  Chloe returned, and smiled at him as she stood by the couch. But for some reason he didn't quite understand, he wanted to take her away from this place. This house. And away from Tiny. And he just didn't know why. He felt uncomfortable. Odd. Out of place, like he didn't belong here either.

  "Hey Nick," Tiny said, with a tinge of concern in his voice, as he leaned forward, "you want a joint, or what? Jesus, Chloe, he's a space-cadet. Maybe we should take him back to the hospital. To the psycho ward!" The large man laughed uproariously now, as his huge belly bounced.

  Nick smiled ruefully, then grinned at Chloe. "Yeah. I guess I am. Pull it out, Tiny."

  The man was still laughing. "What, my dick, or the joint?"

  "Keep the dick in, and grab the joint, asshole," Nick said dryly, still looking at Chloe.

  "You okay?" she asked, looking down at him tenderly, "No nausea or dizziness?"

  He shook his head. "Nope. Just a sore head, baby. That's all." How did he rate a woman like this? And why would she live here, in this lousy house, with him?

  She smiled before she returned to the kitchen. A beautiful smile. Chloe's smile. A memory shook him. Another time, another smile, seductive, sexy. Yes, he knew her. She was his woman. And jealousy seized him, as he watched Tiny gaze at her.

  "So," Tiny said, as he lit the joint and passed it to Nick, "we're ridin' next weekend. Give you a chance to fix up your bike."

  "The ride." Nick inhaled.

  "Yeah, dipshit, we were headed to Red Rock, remember?" Nick nodded and frowned. But he really didn't recall it. "How bad is my bike?" He remembered his Harley. Black, long forks, comfortable.

  "It's banged up, but I took a look while you was sleepin.' It starts okay
. Hey, that was a tricky move you did, headin' for the dunes. Saved Chloe's ass. Probably saved the bike, too."

  "Where did I end up?"

  "Right smack on the street, man. Did it knock some sense into you, or what?" The man laughed, and his stomach jounced again. Yes, Nick certainly remembered Tiny. He was his best friend, and Nick observed him now with a lazy grin, and heavy—lidded eyes.

  Chloe watched the interchange from the kitchen table, as she set out the plates. After Tiny leaves, she thought she'd better find out exactly what Nick did remember.

  "Dinner," she announced, as she still watched Nick. His eyes met hers in an unwavering stare. And as he rose and walked towards her, a chill went up her spine. This wasn't Nick. This was someone different. The desire was plain in his eyes. The other Nick would hide it. Especially in front of the bikers. The other Nick would never look at her like that. Even in private.

  He stood before her, and ran his hands up and down her arms. Trembling involuntarily, she stared up at him. His hands tightened on her upper arms. "Cold?" he said.

  She shook her head.

  As Tiny seated himself, Nick's mouth came down on hers brutally, taking, not asking. He was trying to take all of her now, her body, her soul, her mind. The kiss was different, savage, and it came from a man she didn't even know. This wasn't Nick, it was someone else. And fear shook her, a fear so strong, it rivaled Nick's brutal kiss.

  "Ey," Tiny said, "the spaghetti's gettin' cold. Plus, you guys are makin' me horny with that shit. Knock it off."

  Nick broke off the kiss, and smiled down at her. But, the smile didn't reach his eyes. They were still hard, lustful.

  As they ate, dread filled Chloe's heart. He didn't remember who he was. Nick thought he really was a biker. Would he ever remember he was a D.E.A. agent? And if he did, what would happen? And when would he snap out of it?

  Silent, staring at her food now and avoiding Nick's eyes, she started making plans. First, she'd have to get away and call Ellen. The supervisor would know what to do. Maybe they'd have to abort the operation totally. But how would they ever get Nick out of here?