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Solving for Nic (Self Made Men...Southern Style Book 2)

Page 8

by Lexxi Callahan


  “Please?” His throat tightened as her hands fell away taking the bikini top with them.

  For a moment, he couldn’t move. Her breath caught and it was the only sound he could hear as they dipped into the place where the world couldn’t touch them. He eased her back, his hands going around her sides, sliding under and up her breasts. She leaned into his touch. His thumbs brushed across the stiff peaks and fire raced through him, burning away what little sense he had left. She was so soft. How was he supposed to resist?

  Her head fell forward, sighing in pleasure as he shaped the silky flesh. It wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted her under him, quivering and crying again. He wanted his name on her last breath before she went over the edge. This time with him so deep inside her he would never find his way back and she wouldn’t be able to leave.

  Her arms came back up, her hand moving over his. His body turned to steel when he realized she wasn’t trying to stop him. She wanted him to touch her but she also needed to hang on before her legs gave way. It wasn’t a conscious thought that had him leaning down to slide his arm under her knees. He lifted her easily, then took three steps toward the lounge chair and laid her down against the blue-and-white striped pillows.

  Shock sent hot color racing all over her and her jaw gave way so she could drag in more air. Her lungs stopped working altogether when he sat down next to her on the lounge chair. Her eyes never left him as he undid the scarf and her hair spiraled down around her shoulders. She watched, fascinated as he let her curls loop around his fingers as he arranged them. The half-smile was deceptive because the concentration on his face was intense. He eased back, gold eyes burning into her skin. Dizzy and exposed, her eyes started to water because she couldn't seem to blink.

  Her hands eased up of their own accord. Instinct told her to cover herself.

  “Keep them down.” Her eyes widened at the gentle but firm request. There was an edge to his voice that set off a different kind of fire inside her and the ache between her legs deepened into a painful throb.

  Her breath caught, her eyes riveted to his but her arms went down. He smiled but didn’t break eye contact with her. That smile of pleasure increased the heat moving through her. Then his eyes flicked down. Her blood dissolved into molten lava and her heart pumped it twice as fast through her as the throb radiated out.

  His expression turned dark with hunger and… longing? One finger touched her chin as his eyes lifted to hers again. “You’re so lovely.”

  There was no mockery in those gentle words, no arrogance, nothing to make her cringe. She hadn’t expected him to be so…serious or sincere.

  “My ancestors would’ve built temples in your honor, bella.”

  His gaze had her trapped. She couldn’t look away from the gold lights flickering in them as his hand moved up to cup the side of her face.

  “Would you like that, Lizzie?” The words were so quiet she could easily have dreamed them. “Being worshipped?”

  She shook her head slightly. “I don’t think so.”

  His mouth brushed against hers and her eyes fluttered closed. It was a slow, light kiss that teased the storm raging inside her. He raised his head, reluctantly pushing to his feet. Her eyes followed the movement but her body was in thrall, unable to move a muscle. She was frozen in time, unable to even breathe, and it was okay because she didn’t want the second to end.

  “I’ll bring breakfast outside. You have time to swim if you want.” He broke the spell with those ridiculously normal words. He was so calm she wondered if his heart had missed a beat while she was losing her mind.

  She watched him disappear inside. Shaken, confused and incredibly turned on she sat there for a long time, trying to remember how her lungs were supposed to work.

  Movement in the sky distracted her and she looked up as a formation of pelicans flew overhead in a loose V, flying so low she was amazed at how large they were.

  She dove into the icy water before she could think too hard about it. When she surfaced, it was like swimming up into a new world. The sun was high in the impossibly blue sky. Maybe this was paradise. She’d better keep an eye out for snakes. Nothing this beautiful came without a price. She would pay for all of it eventually, but it would be worth it.

  Then she groaned. She’d forgotten the very reason she’d gone outside. Her cell phone. She needed her phone. She levered out of the pool and grabbed one of the white fluffy towels waiting in a teak shelf between the lounge chairs. She dried off quickly then wrapped the towel around herself instead of the sarong. She needed the coverage when she confronted Nic again.

  She found him in the kitchen, scrambling eggs. His dangerous smile stopped her in her tracks. “You don’t want to eat outside?”

  She opened her mouth to say no then saw the tray he’d been loading with toast, butter, strawberry jam and fresh fruit. Her stomach growled a warning at her and Nic laughed. She dropped down on a barstool and grabbed the toast before he could offer it.

  “The jam’s homemade.”

  Her knife paused as she scraped butter over the toast triangle. “You make jam?” she asked, not looking up to see what he thought of her snarky tone.

  “I like to cook,” he said. “But my talents don’t stretch to jam making. I buy it at the local farmers market.”

  She slathered jam on top of the butter and promised herself she’d do laps in the pool. “You don’t have a chef?” She bit into the toast and chewed with relish. She definitely needed to make a side trip to the farmers market.

  “I’m not in one place long enough to have a chef. Do you want cheese in your eggs? I can add it if you want, but I don’t like anything in my eggs so…”

  “No, No,” she said, shaking her head trying not to grin like an idiot. “I like plain eggs. Jen is always putting vegetables and stuff in her omelets and I don’t like the crunch.”

  “Eggs shouldn’t be crunchy.” He pushed a fluffy pile of perfectly scrambled eggs on her plate. “Reminds me of shells.”

  “Yes.” She grinned, relieved he didn’t think she was crazy. She tasted her eggs and tried not to moan in pleasure. “Delicious.” They were so good it was hard not to scarf them down.

  He took her plate when she was finished and set it in the sink. She watched him rinse the dishes and stack them in the dishwasher. She should take a picture because no one would believe Nic knew how to do dishes.

  Her phone! She’d forgotten to ask him about her phone. “Nic,” she started as he closed the dishwasher. She kept the light airy tone in her voice. “Any idea where I dropped my purse last night? I need to call Rogan and let him know where I am.”

  “Rogan knows where you are.” He turned, leaning back against the counter, his expression unreadable. She was starting to recognize it for a false calm. A mask he slid on when he didn’t want to answer the next question. “I talked to him last night.” He crossed his arms. His expression didn’t flicker. “I thought we agreed we’d give them some time alone.”

  Okay, why had the temperature in the kitchen dropped thirty degrees?

  “Time alone?” she repeated and realized time alone translated to time away from her which was crazy since…

  Oops. Warm color singed her ears as she realized Angie wasn’t the only one who’d caught their show on the dance floor. “We were just dancing…”

  His eyebrows lifted.

  “Oh, I can’t believe she fell for it,” Lizzie rushed on, her stomach flipping over when he didn’t react. “Rogan and I…” She stumbled over words that should have been easy.

  He shifted his weight, his eyes narrowing. “You were what? Trying to make her jealous?”

  “Maybe?” She cringed as she said the word. Maybe running wasn’t a bad idea after all. Except she was sitting down.

  “I believed my sister was imagining things until I watched you and Rogan last night. You deliberately set out to make her think something was going on, didn’t you?”

  Storm clouds built in his eyes, turning them scar
y and sexy. She was in over her head. Every cell in her body wanted to run but sizzled with too much excitement to flee.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve put my sister through?”

  “Your sister?” OKAY, now Lizzie knew how to feel. Angry. She loved Rogan the same way she loved her family. “What about Rogan? He worships your sister and she treats him like dirt under her feet.”

  “Are you calling my sister a snob?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  Everything about him was calm and casual. Except his eyes. There were hurricanes roaring up and Lizzie hated hurricanes. “You’re wrong. Angie might be spoiled but she’s not a snob.”

  “Rogan loves her,” she shot back. “He’s been miserable this past year. He’s hardly seen Zachary and…” She trailed off, blinking back sudden tears and glancing away so he wouldn’t see them. “She’s going to keep on until she loses him.”

  “You want them to get back together?” He was genuinely surprised.

  “Yes.” She choked. Did he really think she would go after a married man? It felt like falling through the ice of a frozen lake. The burn scraped a layer of her skin off and left her raw and bleeding. He should know better.

  “You tried to provoke her into fighting for him?”

  This trip had been a mistake. How could she expect him to know her better? She was emotionally out of her depth with Nic. She couldn’t handle him. She might be emotionally invested in him, but she was a passing blip on his radar. It was ridiculous to expect him to know her better. “I know, it was stupid…”

  “No.” He turned to wash his hands. “No, it worked.”

  Her eyes widened as he rounded the bar. The predator was coming for her. The man who stopped in front of her wasn’t angry but he was dangerous. She had no defense. He made her hope. He made her want more.

  “Lizzie?”

  She turned her head until their eyes met.

  “Can I borrow your towel?” The low words took a moment to sink in but he was already tugging on the beach towel.

  “What? No. Wait…” she yelped, grabbing at the towel to stop him. Caught between outrage and excitement, she lost the battle and the towel.

  He tossed the towel aside, then turned the barstool until she faced him. His hands caged her in but his focus was on her lips, which immediately went dry. She swept her tongue across her bottom lip and her heart raced triple time when he leaned into her.

  “I don’t want to talk about Angie and Rogan anymore.” His voice was low and husky. It made her shiver again.

  She leaned back on the stool as he moved over her. Her arms wound around his neck and she smiled when he shivered in pleasure this time. “Talking is overrated.”

  “Agreed,” he snapped and then he was kissing her. Her lips parted and she was ready for him this time. She forgot who Angie and Rogan were. She forgot who she was. She forgot everything but his mouth shaping hers. The world fell away again as he deepened the kiss.

  Reality was overrated too.

  Alarm bells went off in her head but she ignored them. She couldn’t let him go. A moment longer wouldn't hurt. There was something she was supposed to ask him but it didn’t seem to matter anymore. He broke the kiss without warning, breathing heavily and trying to rein himself in. Giving up contact with him was painful.

  “Nic,” she whispered, reaching for him. Despite the inherent danger, she wanted him to kiss her again. She needed him to kiss her.

  Instead, his hand curved around the back of her head. He pressed her forehead to his chest. His heart was racing and thumping so hard she thought she could feel it against her cheek. He wasn't as calm as he appeared. She liked the way he clamped her against his chest while he fought to regain control. She liked that his heart wasn't slowing down any faster than hers was. The moment was too perfect to do anything but savor it.

  “Let’s get out of here for a while.”

  “Sure.” She pressed against him, loving the slight roughness of him against her bare skin. She tingled everywhere and his slightest movement sent currents all through her. “What should I wear? My bathing suit, my cocktail dress or the towel?” Humor and disappointment laced the words together. “I didn’t bring a lot of clothes.”

  His hands soothed up and down her bare back, electricity sparking along the contact. “Check the master bedroom closet. Then we’ll head over to the resort. You can shop.”

  “Shop?”

  “You try on dresses, pick one out and wear it to dinner.”

  “At your resort?”

  “Resort and Golf club,” he corrected lightly. He was teasing her but it had the opposite effect.

  The real world intruded and she remembered who he was and who she was. They did not live in the same reality. She might let herself play in his for a while, but getting attached would be stupid. “I have no idea how to be in your world, Nic.”

  He kissed her nose before stepping back from her. “You just be you, Lizzie.”

  Her smile faltered. She definitely couldn’t be herself.

  It took him another few minutes and when he finally eased her away from him, Lizzie held her breath as the ache threatened to consume her. She was definitely in over her head. No matter how careful she was this week, when they parted it was going to leave a scar.

  She found a sundress hanging in the master closet. The designer tag confirmed it was a dress she’d pinned a few weeks ago. She wanted to be the girl who hung it back in the closet and refused to wear it. She held it up against herself, admiring the retro fabric.

  She should hang it back in the closet. She didn’t. She slipped it off the hanger and over her head before she could change her mind. It was perfect. The tight bodice gave her cleavage and the circle skirt was made for twirling. She slipped on the lemon yellow kitten heels and tried not to swoon.

  She pulled her hair into a high ponytail and wished again for straight hair with bangs. Otherwise the outfit was perfect. The cute party girl she’d wanted stared back at her from the full length mirror. Mischief lurked in her eyes and her smile wouldn’t go away. That girl was up to no good.

  She was perfect.

  When she stepped back into the living room, Nic was waiting for her. He’d showered and was dressed in khakis and a white button down with the sleeves cuffed below his elbows. She had no idea why it made his arms so sexy, but it absolutely did. Her heart skipped a beat when he smiled at her. He had the most dangerous smile in the world. He’d shaved, which made his face harder than usual. Nic could shave twice a day. The stubble usually shadowing his face made him more approachable. He was much more intimidating with a smooth jawline.

  “You keep looking at me like that and we won’t be going anywhere.”

  She shrugged. “You’re the one who wants to leave. I was perfectly happy.”

  He held out his hand and she took it without thinking. “Ever been to the Keys before?”

  “No.”

  “The diving is excellent.”

  “I’m not sporty. I’m decorative.” She flinched. The words had sounded much better in her head.

  “Decorative?” he echoed, laughing under his breath when he opened the passenger side door of the convertible Aston Martin parked next to the SUV in his garage. “Aren’t you in graduate school?”

  She slid into the seat, keeping her voice casual as she tried to think fast. What if he asked what she was majoring in? She could say math. When he asked if she was going to teach, she’d say yes. “I am.”

  “Lizzie,” he said, his voice lower than it should be. “There’s something you should know.”

  “What?”

  “Decorative and smart is better.”

  She went warm in places she didn’t know could get warm and she couldn’t help the smile that split across her face. Smart she could do. Smart wasn’t threatening. He liked smart? Perfect. She could definitely be that girl.

  She couldn’t lose sight of the fact that when he said smart, he didn’t mean academic d
iscussions about gap fluctuations or why P could never equal NP.

  Chapter Seven

  The Maretti Key Resort was much larger than the hotel in Miami. Nic gave the keys to valet parking then led her into the open air lobby. A huge fountain dominated the space. Water splashed against mermaids carved into the stone and fresh flowers were everywhere.

  Lizzie had forgotten he owned the resort until a young man dressed in khakis and an understated island shirt, came hurrying toward.

  “Mr. Maretti.” He fell in step with them. “We weren’t expecting you today.”

  “David, I’m not here.” He sounded different. Business voice, she guessed, trying not to be impressed. “We’re here to shop and maybe have dinner. It’s not a surprise inspection. Tell everyone to relax.”

  “I’m sure you would find everything in order if it was.”

  “I have no doubt.”

  David gave them both a polite smile then headed back to the registration area.

  “He seems nervous.”

  Nic shrugged. “Not everyone thinks I’m as nice as you do.”

  David had apparently set off some type of silent alert to the hotel staff that Nic was in the house. Everyone all but curtsied when he walked by. The manager of the ladies boutique was waiting for them when they arrived.

  “Mr. Maretti, so good of you to visit us today.”

  “Anna.” Nic smiled at the older lady and shook hands with her. Did he know everyone or was he reading their discreet name tags? Lizzie couldn’t tell and she doubted neither David nor Anna knew either. “This is Lizzie. Let her have whatever she wants.”

  He turned to Lizzie, his hands on her shoulders. “There’s a day spa. I’m sure Anna can take you.”

  She brightened. A spa sounded wonderful.

  He kissed her cheek, then whispered in her ear, “I had better come back and find lots of shopping bags.”

  “I need some shorts, maybe a pair of jeans.”

  “Dresses.”

 

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