See You In My Dreams

by Marie-Nicole Ryan

  Inspiring ... To say the least. Too bad she wasn't writing a romance novel.

  “I'm going. I'm going. I don't want to risk offending your tender sensibilities.” Max bowed and turned to leave.

  She jumped up and protested, “I'm not offended. I'm—” she stopped, stunned by what she'd almost said.

  “What?"

  “Never mind."

  “Were you tempted, Nikki? I'm tempted every minute we're in the same room.” Max walked toward her. “And when I'm not with you, I'm thinking about you,” he murmured, his voice deepening with emotion.

  Her knees grew weak ... like always whenever he spoke in those soft, sensual tones, his accent stronger. Like a fool, she backed away.

  Before she could protest, the shrill peal of the telephone startled them both.

  Anxious to avoid further overtures, she made a beeline for the telephone, grabbing it. “Hello."

  “Saved by the bell,” Max joked, a wry smile tugging at his kissable lips.

  “Nikki, everything all right? You sound kind of breathless. Is he making advances again?"

  “No, Mama. Everything's fine.” For once, Nikki didn't mind her mother's timing.

  “I just wanted you to know, I'm all settled in. The hotel is lovely."

  “Great, you're settled in. I'm glad."

  “Are you going to stay mad at me forever?"

  “No, of course not. Look, I'll call you tomorrow, okay? We'll go shopping."

  “All right, baby. You know how I am. Foot in mouth disease."

  “Yeah, I know. It's okay. I've got to get back to work. B-bye.” Nikki replaced the phone and looked at Max. “Will wonders never cease? That must be the first time she's ever almost apologized to me for anything."

  “It's about time."

  “Now,” Nikki began, swiftly changing the subject, “Don't you have something to do?"

  “I do have something in mind.” He walked toward her, giving her that lazy-lidded sultry look again.

  She gave him a long hard look. “You know, you could use a little work on those love handles of yours."

  He looked down aghast. “Love handles?"

  “Yeah, I'd say you're in serious denial if you can't see them."

  “Think so? I guess I could use a workout."

  “That's it. Go pump some iron."

  “Okay, I'll go pump some iron.” Grinning, Max snatched a pillow and threw it at her, which she dodged with ease. She returned the honor, but missed him as he rushed from the room.

  “Whew!” At least, tomorrow night, she could count on having the house to herself. She might even get some work done without the constant distraction of his presence.

  Twenty-nine

  Friday evening

  “Mm, this is more like it.” Nikki sighed and eased her body into the hot bath water.

  After the stress of dealing with her mother and Max, she deserved some downtime. She had arranged a bunch of candles around the bathroom. Outside the townhouse, the storm raged, causing the lights to flicker more than once. At least, if the lights went out, she wouldn't be left in the dark. Frangipani scent filled the bathroom, reminding her of a tropical paradise.

  After soaking for nearly an hour, she stepped from the old claw foot tub onto a thick bathmat. Grabbing a thick towel, she twisted it, turban-style, around her head and grabbed another to wrap around her body. She walked to the vanity and picked up a crystal bottle, filled with her favorite Chloe moisturizer.

  As she smoothed the lotion on her arms and neck, a loud crack of thunder shook the bathroom windows, accompanied by a bright flash of light. “Damn!” she shrieked. The bottle of moisturizer flew from her hands and shattered on the marble floor into dozens of tiny slivers of glass. The lights went out—flickered on, then off ... and stayed off.

  “Shit.” She looked down. In the flickering candlelight glass shards glittered all over the marble floor. She stretched and attempted to step beyond the broken glass.

  “Ouch!” she yelled when her heel landed on a sliver.

  A light knock sounded on the bathroom door, followed by Max's deep voice. “Nikki? Are you all right?"

  “No, I stepped on a piece of glass,” she told him through the closed door. She simply couldn't believe her bad luck. Now, she was the one wearing a towel, hopping on one foot, like a one-legged freaking bird. Only to be rescued by him once again. Fate certainly had a warped sense of humor.

  There was a pause, before Max asked, “Are you decent?"

  “More or less, come on in. But be careful,” she warned. “There's glass everywhere."

  The door opened slowly, and Max peered through the opening. “I have on shoes,” he said, grinning.

  “That's just fine. Now get me a pair, so I can get out of here."

  Max stepped into the bathroom, wearing grey athletic shorts and a white muscle shirt. He looked like he'd actually been working out. His chest and arms glistened with a fine sheen of perspiration. His gaze traveled around the room, taking in the candles, then finally rested on her. He leveled his gaze on her, then folded his arms across his chest. “You are wearing a towel. This is your idea of decent?” he said, his mouth twitching.

  She huffed. “It's as much as you had on a couple of hours ago. If my memory serves, you were parading around in a towel that barely covered your—well, you know what I mean."

  Max leaned against the door frame, threw back his head and laughed. “You're barely covered yourself."

  “Shoes, please.” The longer he stood there staring at her, the more ridiculous she felt. “Do I have to beg?” she asked, starting to lose patience.

  The scoundrel shook his head. “I don't think you should try to put a shoe on that foot. Here, I'll carry you.” He took two crunching steps forward and swept her into his arms.

  “Put me down."

  Max stopped and gazed thoughtfully. “Surely, you don't want me to put you down. There's glass everywhere."

  “Do something. Don't just stand there.” She struggled, but it was useless. His hold on her was firm, albeit cautious. She just hoped he couldn't feel her heart drumming in her chest.

  “Your wish is my command, mademoiselle.” Max kicked the door back with the heel of his shoe, and carried her into the bedroom and set her down gently on the bed. To her amazement, he turned and walked back into the bathroom.

  “Max?"

  The intensity of the storm increased. Vaguely aware of the lightning which brightened the sky with nearly constant flashes, she held her breath.

  He returned from the bathroom carrying two of the larger candles. “I need some light, if I'm going to get that splinter out of your foot.” He took the largest candle and set it beside the bed.

  She peered through the dim, although romantic, lighting it provided. “That's not enough light,” she told him flatly.

  “I have to try. You'll get an infection, if I don't get it out. Where are your tweezers?"

  “Tweezers?"

  “Get real. I can't pull it out with my teeth,” he told her, his tone patient. “Although it might be fun."

  In spite of the throbbing in her foot, Nikki giggled. “Get real? You're really picking up some slang. Next thing you know, you'll be losing your beautiful accent,” she told him, trying not to sound as wistful as she felt.

  He paused, in his search for the tweezers. “What accent?” he asked, raising one of his thick, dark eyebrows.

  “Well, it does have a certain charm,” she admitted, casting a shy upward glance in his direction. The candlelight flickered, the flames reflecting in his eyes as dancing points of light. The effect—mesmerizing.

  “Hmph,” he said with a shrug. “It doesn't seem to have much effect on a certain resident in my house."

  “You mean my mother?” she asked, grinning in spite of her attempt to keep a perfectly straight face.

  “Your mother is no longer here.” Max leaned over her, brushing her hair back from her face.

  Quick. Distract him before things go too far.
She was dangerously close to giving in to the desires incited by his warm, hard body, and he was definitely crowding her. She swallowed, trying to regain her composure. “Tweezers—far, right-hand drawer of the vanity."

  He nodded. Once more he retraced his steps to her bathroom. He seemed reluctant to leave her, casting a glance over his shoulder. She heard more crunching footsteps as he tread on glass shards in the bathroom. Over the sound of his rummaging for tweezers, she heard the wind kick up another notch in ferocity. The gusts whistled, shaking the windows in the townhouse.

  “Shouldn't we check the weather report?” she asked. “It really sounds bad outside. I don't think I've ever heard anything like this wind in the city. I've weathered a few storms at the beach house, but this is something else."

  Max returned and gazed down at her. “What do you want me to do? Remove the splinter from your foot or find the battery-powered radio?"

  She detected a tiny note of irritation in his voice. “The splinter, I guess. But be careful. It hurts."

  “I'll be careful.” He positioned the candles for maximum effectiveness. “Turn around and put your foot up here, so I can see the splinter.” Max patted the pillow closest to the candles and reached for her foot.

  “Don't be so rough.” Nikki flounced about, attempting to keep the towel wrapped around her body.

  “I haven't touched your foot yet. Stop acting like a big baby. Now, let me see."

  Nikki sighed and finally allowed Max to take her foot and hold it to the light, experimenting with the best angle. “I see it, but if you aren't perfectly still, it might break when I extract it."

  “All right, already. Just get it out,” she whined, in spite of herself.

  “Patience. This is a very delicate process. I don't think you respect the skill it will take for me to accomplish this procedure."

  “Stop trying to be cute."

  He grinned again. “You think I am cute?"

  Before Nikki could make a cheeky reply, there was a blinding flash followed by a deafening crash. She jumped and yelped.

  “Mèrde. I almost had it."

  “I'm sorry. I hate storms, and this one's been going on too damn long.” Max ignored her, apparently intent on his procedure. Honestly, the man could care less if they were blown away by some freak storm. “Ouch."

  He raised the splinter to the light. “There. Got it."

  She heaved a sigh of relief, and immediately was overcome by embarrassment. “Thank you. I was a pill, wasn't I?"

  “Mais oui. Most definitely.” He smiled, his eyes glittering. Her gaze followed his, down to the towel that had covered her.

  “Just what do you think you're looking at ... like that?” she asked, suddenly breathless.

  “I'm looking at the loveliest woman I've ever seen."

  Flustered, she grabbed the towel and pulled it over her exposed breasts, leaving her thighs exposed along with the blonde patch of curls where they joined. Hastily, she tried another arrangement of the towel, but it didn't work either. Damn thing was too small to cover everything. “Max Devereaux, you could've at least told me I was uncovered."

  “No, no, Chèrie, I could not.” He closed his eyes, as if not trusting himself to gaze on her any longer. He gave a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, I'll see you in the morning.” He stood up.

  “Wait.” Nikki grabbed his hand. She didn't want him to leave her. Not now. “Thank you."

  Max turned. “You'd better put something on it and le bandage adhésif or whatever it is you Americans call them."

  “Band-aid,” she finished for him. “Are you sure you got it all?” She waggled her foot toward him.

  “Oui, but perhaps I should check again,” he replied, his lips twitching with a poorly disguised smile.

  Once more, he knelt down beside the bed and took her foot gently between his hands. His glittering green gaze, challenged her. Lightly, he kissed the arch of her foot. She moaned, powerless to suppress it. The soft touch of his lips sent waves of pleasure skittering up her leg to center between her thighs. She whimpered, aching for him to continue, yet still fearful of what would come next.

  “Nikki?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “Do you want me to stop?"

  Thunder crashed again, shaking the townhouse.

  “No.” She grabbed the straps of his shirt and pulled him to her. “Don't leave me,” she murmured, “I'm afraid ... of the storm."

  “Not here,” he breathed into her ear, then picked her up, carrying her gently.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. What was he doing? Why not there? Her bones had gone molten. She couldn't resist him, not after all this time. And she didn't care where he was taking her, as long as he took her before she came to her senses. She wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anyone. To feel his hands and lips discovering her body, to feel the strength of his need for her.

  To feel whole for the first time.

  ~ * ~

  Max carried Nikki down the hall to his room and laid her gently on the bed. Slowly, he pulled away the towel; she lay trembling before him, open to him for the first time. He placed a knee on the bed beside her, still hesitating. “I-I'm speechless before your beauty."

  “Obviously not,” she murmured, grinning as she reached for him.

  He sank down on the bed, overcome by a blaze of yearning ... and disbelief. She was so lovely and so desirable. Her skin, a swath of pale ivory silk, displayed before him, was illuminated only by flashes of lightning from the storm. And this time she hadn't run from him or turned him away.

  She arched toward him and pressed her lips against his, her unspoken commitment to what followed. He moaned. His tongue swept into her mouth sampling her sweetness. Somehow he had always known kissing her would be far sweeter than anything he'd ever imagined. Drowning in a maelstrom of fire, he covered her neck with tiny tender kisses.

  She tugged at his thin shirt, and he obliged by whipping it over his head. Her hands slid down his back to his butt. He kicked his shorts off the rest of the way, his manhood springing free.

  She gasped and caressed his length. He groaned, then found her nipples. First one, then the other, they tightened into buds at the light scraping of his teeth. Burying his face between her breasts, he licked down her belly, slow tantalizing strokes down to the fair curls above her sex.

  He cupped her hips with his hands and spread her quivering thighs. He tongued the sensitive core of her desire while her hips moved against him.

  Max smiled down at her, then took her hand in his. “Touch me. See how much I want you. How much I need you."

  She writhed beneath him.

  Max reached for the drawer in the bedside table and removed a foil packet. Together they slipped the condom on his rigid length.

  “You are so beautiful. I have wanted you for so long.” He slid his fingers between her thighs, in and out, preparing her.

  She moaned and gasped, “Now."

  “So long,” he whispered. He claimed her lips, his manhood prodding between her thighs. Fearing he'd hurt her with the strength of his passion, he entered her with gentle inching thrusts. Then as her body adjusted to him, he drove his full length into her sweet enveloping heat.

  Arching her hips she met his driving thrust and moaned her need. “More."

  “Facile,” he breathed in her ear, resting his weight on his elbows. He thrust slowly. “Not too fast. I won't last.

  Her long lithe legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him even deeper into her hot core. He struggled for control, slowing the rhythm, then increasing until feverish abandon threatened to send him over the brink. He slowed the pace again.

  “No, don't stop,” she cried, her breath coming in gasps.

  “Never.” He buried his face in the hollow of her neck and clasped her wrists high above her head. He drove home until he was desperate to come. Again, he slowed the rhythm, desiring to bring her to completion before he pursued his own release.

  Her body trembled under his ass
ault. “No!” she cried and refused his attempt to hold back. She screamed his name, her cries of pleasure, triggering his climax.

  His body pulsed deep within hers. He never wanted to be with anyone but her. They were meant to be together. He had searched for her all his life. It had never been like this with anyone else.

  Max collapsed beside Nikki, but kept her within his embrace. Gently, he wiped the tears from her eyes. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, suddenly concerned he'd been too rough.

  Speechless, she could only shake her head and nuzzle her face into the breadth of his chest. Lulled by their lovemaking, she fell into a state of near sleep. He marveled at the sense of fulfillment. This one woman, arms and legs entwined with his, she was the woman of his dreams. For the first time in years, he knew peace.

  ~ * ~

  Outside the storm raged. Max lay with Nikki's warm body still cradled in his arms. The moon shone through the window, lighting the face of his darling Nikki. The near-feral street kid still lurked beneath the passionate woman he held so tenderly.

  Awakening from her nap, she stretched and gave him a blissfully feline smile of gratification. “Hi."

  “Hi, yourself,” he replied, kissing her forehead. “Are you all right?"

  “Wonderful,” she purred. “It's just that I've run from this for so long, and now I can't understand why."

  “I can't either."

  She snuggled closer. “It could've been that you were always so unapproachable. We were worlds apart, and I knew I wasn't good enough for you.” She nibbled the lobe of his ear, causing him to tremble.

  Mon Dieu, but he found her adorable, however his body craved sleep. Now that her passion had been sated, she wanted to talk.

  “You were still a child. I forced myself to stay away from you.” She rewarded him with another dazzling smile. He pressed a kiss in the palm of her hand, his heart filling with love.

  She lay across his chest, tracing the muscles on his chest with teasing fingers. “Since I've been here, I've gone crazy trying to keep this from happening. I was so afraid, and I didn't know why."