Skin Deep
Page 22
“That’s all right. I’m going to get there before the ceremony, so no worries.”
Nicky raised her eyebrows. “Okay. . . .”
Christian laughed. “Yeah, I’m crazy, but I heard kidnapping is the new way to prove your undying love. I figured I’d give it a try.”
“Right. Assuming the woman doesn’t press criminal charges.”
“Of course. I’ve got to run in a few, but do you want me to help you pack anything before I go? The next direct flight leaves at eleven o’clock this morning. I assume you’ll want to be on that one. No sense leaving that man down there to suffer any longer.”
Nicky glanced around the room at the rented furnishings that came with the studio and the very few things she’d managed to bring with her and Abby when they left Derrick the first time. She wasn’t going to be the slightest bit sad to leave the place that had been their home for the past two months. “No, I think I can throw our clothes in a couple of suitcases and box up the rest of the stuff before we need to catch a cab. There’s not that much here.”
“All right, then, I guess I’ll be heading out.” He crossed to the door, pausing before he left to turn and catch her eye. “You’re really going, right?”
“I am.”
“Thank you,” he said, a vulnerability in his eyes she’d never seen before. “And don’t let him tell you no.”
“Thank you . . . I won’t.”
As she watched Christian leave, she knew she’d never meant anything more.
Chapter Twenty-one
You want a sandwich from the Cuban bakery? They’ve got those hot ham and cheese ones and the pastries go half price after seven o’clock.” Garret, one of the Miami studio’s most talented artists, stood at the door looking like the last thing he wanted to do was bring Jackson a sandwich or a pastelito de guayaba.
He looked like he’d rather run straight into the night and keep on running until he was as far away from his boss as he could possibly get. But then, Jackson couldn’t really blame the man. He hadn’t been a bundle of sweetness and light the past two months.
Rabid bear with anger-management issues would be a more apt description.
Jackson sighed. He had to step up his people skills. Missing Nicky so badly it felt like his guts had spilled out all over the floor was no excuse for alienating his entire staff.
“No, thanks. I’m getting ready to head out. I’ve been here since noon,” Jackson said, forcing a smile. “Good work today. I really dug that portrait piece you started.”
“Thanks.” Garret’s thin face lit up, making him look even younger than his twenty-one years. He was the youngest of the three new artists they’d hired for the Miami opening, but had a gift for ink not many possessed at any age. “I’m pumped to finish it. Nice change from the average job.”
“Yeah. It’ll be a great addition to your portfolio. Catch you tomorrow.”
“Later,” Garret threw over his shoulder as he darted out the door.
There. He’d made nice. Now he could sleep sound tonight.
Riiight. He hadn’t slept more than four hours straight since he left L.A. At this rate, mooning over Nicky was going to make him old before his time. He already had permanent circles under his eyes, but he wasn’t too worried about them. He figured they complemented his beard and fleshed out the whole “slightly deranged” look.
“Be sure to lock up before you go, and make Tony walk you to your car so you get there safe,” Jackson told Kit, the girl filling in for Delilah behind the front desk while their usual office manager was on her combination wedding-honeymoon. He never would have pegged Dee for the romantic elopement type, but she’d certainly seemed thrilled to go say “I do.” He’d been happy for her. It was nice to see someone having a little success in the relationship department.
“Sure thing. See you tomorrow,” Kit said.
Jackson patted his pocket, making sure his keys were still there, feeling like he was forgetting something as he headed out the back door. He wondered if he’d ever get used to not carrying a coat in the winter. It was late January, but the temperature rarely dipped below the high sixties. It was one of the things Christian loved about Miami, but Jackson hadn’t been able to work up the same enthusiasm for shorts and beach time year-round.
But then, he hadn’t been able to work up much enthusiasm for anything besides missing Nicky, replaying every moment they’d spent together, fantasizing about the feel of her bare skin against his, and the way she could drive him wild with just a kiss.
“Give it a rest, man,” he grumbled to himself as he guided his car through the busy streets and then onto the quieter avenue leading down to his beachside condo.
He’d made his decision and he was going to stand by it. This was best for Nicky. She didn’t need another volatile man in her life putting her and her daughter in danger. He was torturing himself for no reason and should concentrate on getting the hell over Nick and moving on.
Too bad that was so much easier said than done.
Maybe a stiff drink or two would help him get to sleep. He was debating scotch or whiskey as he swung the door to his condo open, but froze before he took a step inside. Someone was there. He could feel it.
“Wow, Christian was right.” Her voice came from across the shadowed room, near the windows that overlooked the ocean. “Even in the dark, I can tell you look awful.”
Jackson tensed, his hand gripping the door handle, shock and excitement kicking up his heart rate. It was Nicky’s voice, no doubt in his mind.
Or maybe all in his mind. Maybe he’d finally gone crazy enough to start hearing things.
One way to find out.
He flicked on the lights, his chest and things much lower in his body tightening as he took in the woman seated in his leather easy chair. Nick was decked out in a black corset and thigh-high stockings. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders in soft curls, and her lips shone with something pink and glossy. She was a fantasy come to life, and even more beautiful than he remembered.
Too bad he had to send her on her way.
“What are you doing here? Are you in trouble? Is it Derrick?”
“No, he’s still in the hospital. Besides, I’ve got a restraining order and the paperwork is all finished. He didn’t even fight for partial custody. Now it’s just a matter of waiting four more months for the divorce to be final. Some stupid California mandatory waiting period or something like—”
“Good, I’m happy for you. Now, you need to go,” Jackson said, gritting his teeth as he opened the door and gestured to the hallway. “Get dressed and get out.”
“No.” She stood in one smooth, easy motion and stalked across the room, her high heels accentuating her long, long legs. She didn’t stop until she stood less than a foot away, close enough for him to smell the addictive scent of her perfume and the spicier smell that was all Nick. “Close the door.”
“I think we’ve established you’re not the one who gives orders, Nicky, so—”
“Close the door, Jackson. I won’t ask again.” She pulled a mini-flogger from behind her back and held it up between them.
They both knew she couldn’t do him any damage with that tiny toy or anything else, but for some reason Jackson found himself letting the door swing shut. The look in her eyes was like nothing he’d ever seen. The woman was determined, and channeling some serious dominant energy for a submissive.
“Now, I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen,” she said, placing one hand in the center of his chest and shoving him back against the door. Even that small touch was enough to send a shock through his body, and blood surging to his cock. “First of all, you look terrible. What have you done to yourself?”
“I grew a beard,” he said, surprised to hear how penitent he sounded, as if he were a sub who knew he had displeased his mistress.
“A beard that’s crawling halfway down your neck. Poorly maintained facial hair makes you look dirty.” She narrowed her eyes, searching his face. “And
you’ve got circles under your eyes. Are you drinking too much?”
“Nope, just not sleeping enough.”
“And why aren’t you sleeping enough?” she asked, a hint of softness in her eyes. She expected to hear something about how much he missed her, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to oblige. He had to get her to leave. Her and her daughter’s safety was more important than anything they felt for each other.
“I’ve been busy, fucking a wide array of women until the early hours of the morning,” he said, keeping the words casual. “I’m actually expecting someone in an hour, so if you could get your things and be out of here by—”
“Bullshit. You’re lying. You haven’t slept with anyone since you left L.A.”
“How would you know?”
“I don’t think you’d be this hard if you’d been such a busy boy.” Nicky slid her hand down over his engorged cock, drawing a groan from the back of his throat. She leaned closer, whispering her next words against his lips. “Poor Jack. This feels like it hurts, but I’m here to take the pain away.”
“Stop this,” Jackson said, pushing her hands away. “Listen, I understand what you’re trying to do, but—”
“No, you don’t understand. If you understood you’d know you should quit trying to get rid of me,” she said, her dominant act faltering a bit. “Christian told me how you’ve been, Jackson, and I’ve been the same. Even with Abby back, it still feels like something’s missing since you left. It’s like a piece of me is gone, and I can’t remember how to be happy without it.”
“Nick, please. I’m not good for you and Abby, I—”
“Christian said something about that, too, that you’ve convinced yourself you’re bad news or something stupid like that.”
“Now you’re calling me stupid?” Jackson laughed despite himself. “See, this wouldn’t work. A big bad dominant man is not the type who puts up with his sub calling him names.”
Nicky stepped closer, catching his eye with a look so intense he couldn’t bring himself to look away. “Listen to me. You are not a big bad dom. You are Jackson, an amazing man who happens to enjoy power-exchange games in the bedroom. Being a dom is part of what you are, but it isn’t who you are.”
“Then who am I? If you’re seeing things so clearly.”
“You’re the man I love,” she said, her eyes glistening as she reached up to cup his face in her hand. “You’re the man I’ve always loved, a man who would never hurt anyone.”
Jackson pulled away from her soft touch and pushed past her to pace into the room. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. God, how he wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t, not after what had brought them back together in the first place.
“That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it? That you’d hurt me somehow?” she asked. “Well, that’s ridiculous. You’re not that type of person. You’re not Derrick. I should—”
“I kidnapped you, Nicky. Twice. Then I tied you down and was going to permanently scar your body, and I only stopped when you started crying so hard I couldn’t—”
“So what? You didn’t go through with what you’d planned. You didn’t hurt me.”
“But I could have. And . . . I might sometime in the future.” He sighed as he turned back to face her. “I’ve never been in a long-term relationship, period, let alone a dom-sub long-term relationship. I could very well be a Derrick in training. I can’t promise you I’m not, so I can’t—”
“You know why I left Carson City the night after your birthday?” she asked, the abrupt change of subject enough to stun him into momentary silence. “Let me tell you.”
Nicky wandered toward the kitchen, climbing up on one of the bar stools tucked under the island that separated living space from dining space. “Phil had been cornering me for months, on nights when you and Naomi worked late.”
“What?” Jackson felt his stomach turn, and knew he didn’t want to hear what Nicky was going to say next.
“Sometimes he’d just pin my arms and shove his tongue in my mouth, but sometimes he’d get handsy.” Her eyes drifted to the ceiling. “He’d get fingers up my shirt or down my pants. Never for very long, and it never went further than that, but I knew it was only a matter of time. Especially after you moved out. Phil was afraid of you, you know. But once you were gone I knew things would be different . . . worse. . . .”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was ashamed. I didn’t know what you’d think of me and . . .” She sucked in a big breath, eyes still glued to a place above his head, as if she couldn’t stand to look at him. “And even if I’d told you, I knew there was nothing you could do. Aside from getting yourself thrown in jail.”
“You could have gotten transferred to another home. You could have—”
“Like another home would have been so much better?” Nicky laughed. “You grew up the same way I did. You know what it’s like. I had to get out. I couldn’t take another two years of Phil or anyone else.”
Jackson nodded, wanting to take her in his arms, but sensing she wouldn’t welcome any touching right now. “I’m sorry. I hope you know now that I wouldn’t have thought any less of you. It wasn’t your fault. You could have come to me for help. We would have figured something out without you running off on your own.”
“Yeah, I know that now. And if I could go back and do it differently, well . . .” She met his eyes again with a tight smile. “The only reason I told you is there’s a point to the story.”
“That the foster care system is seriously flawed?”
“Well, that.” She laughed. “And that I always knew Phil was a piece of shit. I had suspicions about Derrick, too. I even tried to call off the wedding at one point because I just knew it wasn’t going to work out. I didn’t know how bad things would get, but I knew we weren’t meant to be. But it’s different with you. You may not know it, but I do. You’re a good man, Jackson, and we belong together. Always have, always will.”
“Nicky, I love you. You know I do, but—”
“I love you, too.” She jumped off her chair, and crossed the room, taking his hands in hers. “So there’s only one more question that needs to be answered. Well, maybe two questions.”
“And what are those?” he asked, feeling his will to fight slipping away. He wanted to believe Nick was right, that he could be the man she needed.
Maybe, with her help, he could be.
“Do you like kids? Abby in particular? Be honest.”
“That little girl is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I was afraid to hold her too long because I realized I wouldn’t ever want to let her go. You know I always wanted kids.” Jackson paused, really thinking about the possibility of being a dad and finding it even more exciting than he’d imagined. “Still do, though I’m sure a few things would have to change if there was a little one in the house. We’d have to keep the play in the bedroom, but I’m fine with that if you—”
“More than fine.” Nicky smiled, tears coming into her eyes. “God, it’s so good to hear you say that. I love you so much.”
Jackson squeezed her hands. “And what’s the second question?”
“Well, it’s not so much a question as a statement.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Our ticket was one-way. I brought all of our clothes and dropped the few things I had in boxes off at the UPS store on the way to the airport. Good and Trashy said I could shoot the layout I’m doing for them as easily in Miami as L.A., and I sort of told my landlord I wouldn’t be coming back. I’ve got full physical and legal custody of Abby so . . . I hope you have room for a couple of girls around the house.”
“A couple? Is Abby—”
“She’s in your room. There were more pillows in there and I wanted to make sure she didn’t roll off the bed if she started moving around in the night. She’s a wild sleeper.”
“Just like her mother.” Jackson smiled, barely able to believe this was really happening. A part of him still felt like he should b
e fighting the overwhelming happiness coursing through his system at the thought of him and Nicky and Abby becoming a family, but the rest of him was doing a pretty good job of shutting that insanity down.
Nicky was right. They belonged together, for better or worse.
But he was going to do his damnedest to make sure it was mostly better.
“Yep, just like,” Nicky said, her smile lighting up her face. “So, you want to go get comfortable in the guest room? We could snuggle up in that full bed and see how many times I kick you in my sleep.”
“I think I have a better idea,” Jackson said, pulling her close, letting his hands travel down to cup her ass.
“Oh? And what might that be?”
“Well, it seems a shame to waste this outfit you’ve put on just sleeping.”
“You like it?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I figured you might need a visual aid as well as a good talking-to.”
“An excellent idea and a truly stunning visual aid. I’m only sorry I didn’t have a chance to get all prettied up for you.”
“That’s okay, I kind of dig the beard actually. Though I’ve always wondered . . .” She stood on tiptoe, closing the distance between their lips.
Their first kiss in two months was enough to make Jackson’s skin threaten to melt off his bones. The feel of her tongue sneaking into his mouth, the sweet taste of her, the way she dug her fingernails into his neck as their kiss grew more frantic—all of it was even more amazing than he remembered.
“Yep, it tickles.” She laughed and kissed him again.
God, there was nothing in the world like kissing this woman. Kissing Nick was like coming home and being transported to exotic places he’d never been all at the same time. She was all he’d ever dreamed of and so much more. He was one lucky bastard, especially considering how close he’d come to losing her.
“Thank you,” he whispered against her lips.
“You’re welcome.” She sighed as she hugged him more tightly. “I hear sometimes even wise dominant men need a little reality check.”