A smile tugged at his lips. “No, I don’t know. I usually—”
“Nope!” She held up a hand. “No more filth from you, sir! Not when you make it sound so good.”
His smile blossomed into a grin. “Good, hm?” Nik leaned in close, smoothing her hair out of her face. This time, he knew he didn’t imagine her shiver, the way she shifted restlessly as his fingers skimmed her neck. He brought his lips close to her ear and asked, “You like my dirty mouth, moro mou?”
She met his gaze, her glossy lips parted. Every time she reapplied that fucking lip gloss tonight, he remembered the way she’d looked at him earlier on in their room. She thought his mouth was filthy, but she’d die if she heard him thinking about what else would make those lips shine.
“Maybe I do,” she said finally.
“Would you like to hear more?”
One of Aria’s many wonderful traits, he was learning, was the fact that she never backed down. If he was outrageous, she outdid him. If he laid down a gauntlet, she picked it up. So he was awaiting her response with almost embarrassing eagerness when he felt a strange hand sliding up his arm, demanding his attention.
Turning to glare at the owner of that hand, Nik snapped, “What?”
A redhead with cheekbones sharper than a knife blinked up at him. “Aren’t you Nikolas Christou?” she asked, excitement all over her face.
Well, now he felt bad, snarling at a fan. With a sigh, Nik drummed up a weak smile and nodded. “Yep. That’s me.”
“Oh my God!” She leaned in, her hand sliding further up his arm—okay, so she was touchy—over his shoulder—friendly, then—and down his chest…
Until Aria grabbed the girl’s wrist between finger and thumb like it was a bag of dog shit, pushing it away. “He’s busy,” she drawled, running her own hand through Nik’s hair. There was a possessive edge to her touch that made his muscles tighten and his blood race.
The redhead gave Aria a look that was half-nervous, half-disgusted, and 100% pissing Nik off. “Calm down. I’m just trying to talk to him—”
“Talk less. Walk more.”
After a moment’s tense hesitation, the woman turned with a huff and a flick of bright hair. Aria watched her go with clear amusement, shaking her head slowly. Then she turned back to the bar. “That’s another shot for you, sugar.”
He should never have agreed to this game. He hadn’t realised before, but it seemed like he actually did need Aria—and not just because her presence soothed all his niggling anxieties. He’d been approached by more than enough people tonight to warrant a fake-girlfriend-bodyguard. So many, in fact, that she’d turned it into a drinking game.
He wrinkled his nose at the prospect of more alcohol. He was going to end up getting his stomach pumped. “Oh, come on. She was barely flirting.”
Aria snorted. “After tonight, I’m starting to understand why you hired me. That was a blatant come-on. No wonder you fall into bed with people and don’t even know how it happened.” She raised a hand to catch the bartender’s attention.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? That’s what this is about.”
“You’re not backing down, are you? We agreed. A shot for everyone I get rid of.”
“Fine,” Nik sighed. “Make it tequila, this time.”
“You guys want to stay up and smoke?”
Aria paused in the act of unbuckling her shoe, leaning drunkenly against the hallway wall. She looked up at Varo with her mouth hanging open, shock overtaking the ache in her feet. “You can’t be serious.”
No-one heard her over the sound of enthusiastic agreement. Apparently, this group of absolute nightmares weren’t ready for bed yet. How, she had no idea.
Nik appeared by her side, keeping her steady with an arm around her waist. “Relax,” he murmured. “I’m taking you to bed.”
The words zipped through her like electricity. Down, girl. He didn’t mean it like that. “We can stay up, if you’d like.”
He chuckled. “Please. I saw your face just now. There’s no way I’m getting between you and sleep. Anyway, I’m tired too.”
“Well, in that case…” She straightened up, holding her shoes, and wiggled her poor toes against the cold floor. “Ahhh, that’s good.”
“Give me those.” He took the shoes in one hand and twined their fingers together with the other. He’d been holding her hand all night, pulling her here and there. She found herself wondering—was Nik this affectionate with everyone? Judging by the awed looks his friends were giving her, apparently not. But if he were in a real relationship, would he be?
She remembered what he’d said before, about wanting love. About his parents, and his sister’s marriage. Yeah, she decided. He’d be like this in a relationship.
It was worrying how much the thought appealed to her.
“We’re gonna head upstairs,” Nik called as they walked away. “See you all tomorrow.”
There were a variety of responses, from Kieran’s Later, guys, to Georgia’s Bye, hon! to the low, ribald mutterings of some of the men.
“I’d take her to bed, and all!” Shouted a pink-faced blond named Harry with laughter in his voice.
Aria rolled her eyes. “Your friends are children,” she murmured as they reached the stairs.
Nik flashed her a sleepy grin. “That’s why we get on so well.”
Aria stood in front of the enormous bathroom mirror, biting her lip as she stared at her reflection. She usually slept naked, but she’d brought pyjamas along for this trip, for obvious reasons. The little vest top was fine, even if it did cling to her belly for dear life—but the bottoms were way too fucking hot, even with all the air con blasting. So she was standing there in her vest and the biggest pair of knickers she owned—which still weren’t that big—wondering if it would be incredibly weird to lie next to Nik in bed like this.
I bet he won’t be wearing pyjamas.
True.
It’s not that different from a bikini. In fact, you’re showing less skin than you were by the pool.
Also true.
He was wandering around bare-arsed in front of you six hours ago. You really don’t need to consider his delicate sensibilities.
Okay, that decided the matter. He’d take her knickers and he’d fucking like it.
“Wow. That thought came out much dirtier than intended.” She shook her head at herself in the mirror and turned to leave the bathroom.
Nik was already in bed, the sheets pushed down enough to show his bare chest and the arrow of hair above his waistband. He was in his underwear, then. She hoped he was, anyway, because otherwise he must be bloody naked.
Still, she felt a little awkward as his eyes tracked her path from the bathroom to the bed. He didn’t say a word, which wasn’t like him. It wasn’t like him at all. And maybe it was the bite of alcohol, but the silence was making her nervous.
“So!” she said brightly as she climbed into bed. “How—oh, holy shit, this mattress is amazing!”
“Yeah,” he agreed. That was it. Just, Yeah. His voice was soft, almost raspy, and his gaze never left her, even as she laid down beside him.
Aria cleared her throat. “Um, anyway… How do you think today went?”
“It was good.” He turned on his side to face her, and God, this was just too much. His golden cheek and dark stubble against the white pillow, his brown eyes turning onyx in the shadows, the way his voice lowered almost intimately. It hit Aria all at once that she was in bed with Nik. They’d expected this, discussed it, agreed to it—but she was starting to realise she hadn’t been ready for it. Plans had nothing on actually being with him.
Pretending to be with him, she reminded herself sharply. Pretending. You can’t be with anyone. You’ve proven that much. And when a contract is involved, it’s best to keep your thoughts compartmentalised.
That’s what she needed to do, Aria decided. Yes, she was attracted to Nik, and yes, she liked Nik, and yes, she was in bed with Nik. And all of that was fi
ne, as long as she compartmentalised.
“What do you think?” he asked suddenly. “Was it good for you?”
She didn’t miss his teasing inflection or the slight curve of his lush lips.
“Oh, it was great for me,” she purred, just to watch that little smile of his turn into a grin. He didn’t disappoint, his eyes lighting up the way they always did when she took his shit and gave it right back. “By the way, thanks for not getting my hair wet in the pool.”
He laughed. “You noticed that?”
“Of course I noticed. It was kind of impressive, actually. But this is a sew-in. You can get it wet. I mean, I’d rather you didn’t, but I won’t throttle you if you do.”
“Ah,” he grinned, tapping her on the nose. “You might regret telling me that.”
She scoffed to hide the fact that a single nose tap had turned her mind all rosy and fizzy like pink champagne.
“I was going to ask in the morning,” he went on, “but I suppose it is morning now, and we’re talking, so.” He shrugged, and his shoulder brushed hers ever so slightly. After a night of dancing with him, holding his hand, and hanging off his arm whenever admirers got too close, the touch should’ve felt like nothing.
Should’ve.
“If there are any boundaries that you want to shift,” he said, “let me know. I mean, any things we’ve discussed that you want to change now. Like the touching.”
She blinked, surprise corralling her scattered thoughts. “You’d be willing to change things now, after we’ve already started?”
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I thought I should check in. And I wanted to tell you: if I’m ever out of line, don’t think you can’t stop me just because everyone’s watching. Just tell me to fuck off. I mean, that’s what you’d do if you were really my girlfriend.” He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. “But if you don’t want to do that, we could have a… a safe word, for when we’re in public. Something you can work into conversation, to let me know if I’m doing shit you don’t like.” He finished that baffling speech with a sweet little smile that, if Aria wasn’t mistaken, was supposed to reassure her.
She wasn’t reassured. Well, she was sure that Nik meant everything he said. His consideration was genuine—but all that did was make her worry, because he was so fucking sweet. Sweet enough to ruin all the little boxes she’d stored her neatly wrapped-up emotions in. Aria knew she’d grown up starved of affection, knew she inhaled love like it was oxygen, knew that all too often she gulped down toxic, poisoned air in her quest for a connection. But despite all that—and despite knowing how badly she’d fucked up last time—the hole in her chest had started to whisper that surely this man would be the one to fill her up.
No. No. This man is not for us.
“I’ll remember that,” she said finally. “Thank you. And as far as the safe word goes…” She ignored, with difficulty, the sexual implications of that phrase. This was business, dammit. “I’m thinking banana split.”
“Banana split?”
“Yep. But, really, so far, I’m fine with how things are between us.” So, so fine. Almost as fine as your perfect fucking face.
Nik’s smile was soft and pleased, his happiness glowing like the bedside lamp behind him. “Good.” Then he reached out and ran the tip of one blunt finger over her lower lip—over her lip ring, she realised. He didn’t seem seductive; just curious. Which was galling, because that small touch had her nipples tightening within seconds. If he looked down, he’d see them poking holes through her vest.
Please don’t look down.
“You can really hold your liquor,” he said, pulling his finger away.
“Yeah,” she managed. “Of course I can. I’m British.”
He grinned. “I like that.” Then he rose up on one elbow, his biceps bulging right in front of her face as he reached over for the lamp switch. “We should really sleep, shouldn’t we? You ready?”
“I’m ready.”
The light winked out. “Night.”
How can this thing between us feel like more of a connection than every relationship I’ve ever had? How can an acquaintance and a few fake kisses be more solid than any ephemeral love I’ve chased? Why does everyone else taste like crappy corner shop sweets in my memory, but you taste like brown sugar melting on my tongue?
“Night,” she said.
And lay there in the dark, burning, burning, burning.
Chapter Nine
Nik had been hoping that Aria snored.
He doubted it would turn him off, because she was just—God, she was incredibly fucking hot. But if she snored, it might’ve been easier to get irritated with her. To think something like, Damn, I can’t wait for this week to end so I can sleep without her snoring in my ear. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t allow him even that small solace. Aria didn’t snore, or drool, or kick him in her sleep. Nothing.
He watched her in the faint light that crept past their closed curtains. She slept on her stomach, spread out like a starfish, and he slept on his back, also spread out like a starfish. So he’d woken to find his right limbs tangled with hers, her skin almost feverish. They’d somehow thrown off the sheets, so the first thing Nik saw when he woke up that morning was Aria’s tight, lacy underwear, barely big enough to cover her arse. No tattoos there. He’d noticed that the day before, but the knowledge felt different now.
Maybe because the second thing he’d seen when he woke up was her face. Her cheeks, soft and smushed and lined with pillow creases; her long eyelashes and the shadows of left-over makeup under her eyes; her slightly parted lips, moving as she breathed deeply. When he looked at her, he’d been seized by the urge to kiss those lips. Thank God he’d come to his senses a moment later. He was trying to make her like him, not assault her while she slept.
Nik sighed and stared up at the ceiling, pressing a hand against his aching cock. He was so hard, his morning piss was about to be a fucking nightmare—but he wasn’t focusing on that right now. He was more concerned with how weird last night had been. He hadn’t considered how different it would feel, going out with a girlfriend instead of just his mates. Different, but good. Their relationship might be fake, but the way he’d felt—as if she were his sun, and he’d spent the whole night orbiting her? That had been real.
Real, and painfully natural. Checking on her, making sure she had a drink, watching her laugh and dance with Georgia; none of that had been a chore. And since Nik knew he was a self-absorbed bastard, that fact struck him as… interesting. Honestly, he adored her. And he was convinced, by this point, that she at least wanted him. Not in the plastic, automatic way most people wanted him, for his looks or his money, but in a way that felt personal. So fucking personal. He’d slept with countless people, but he only felt desired when she looked at him.
Those looks didn’t do shit to soothe the demanding hunger inside him, though. In fact, they made things worse. Because she still wasn’t his, and the idea that maybe she could be was like dangling meat in front of a wolf. Stifling a groan, Nik eased out of bed and headed for the shower. He stood under its powerful spray seconds later, tipping his head back as if the water could wash away his confusion.
It didn’t. He was still hopelessly attached, ridiculously horny, and as reckless as ever. He was also carrying out a plan so far-fetched and audacious, he could barely believe his own gall. He could only deal with one of those issues, though, so he set the rest aside and focused on his throbbing cock.
His hands slick with soap, Nik bowed his head beneath the shower’s spray and slid a fist over his aching length. Oh, fuck. Yes. He stroked himself hard. Harder. Imagined that the tight, wet glide of his fist was Aria’s mouth, because if he let himself think about her pussy, he’d really be fucked.
He’d meant to stay quiet, but as he envisioned Aria on her knees before him, he moaned. His strokes sped up, his grip tightening, desire licking at him like hot flames. And then he imaged her pulling back, running the swollen head of his cock over
her lips, slicking them with his pre-come the way she’d slicked them with gloss last night…
He grunted as the wave of pleasure broke too early, his come spilling hot and hard into his hand. “Shit.” He shouldn’t have done that. Even as his body tingled with barely-sated arousal, he knew: he shouldn’t have fucking done that. Because now all the vague fantasies dancing through his mind had a concrete shape, and he’d never be free of them. Not unless he got his hands on her—and he still didn’t know if he ever would.
The spark between them could just be a reflection of his own desire. He could be imagining everything he thought he’d seen in her eyes. He was starving for her, and every sarcastic comment she threw, every arched brow and unspoken challenge, made it a thousand times worse. And he loved it.
Water ran into Nik’s eyes as he stared at the come painting his palm. His cock was already hardening again. He was acting like a teenager. But when he was with her, he wanted more than ever to be a man.
By that afternoon, the sun was beating down as if it wanted to kill them all.
They should probably go inside, but a few of them had started messing around with a football, and now they’d never stop. There was nothing better than a kick-about, in Nik’s book. Especially when it was like this: barefoot on the grass, the ball making a satisfying thwack against his skin with each leisurely pass, his two best mates laughing and chatting with him.
And his woman in sight, wearing one of those tiny bikinis, that ever-present sketchbook in her hands.
Not your woman, said the voice of reason.
She should be, said the voice of every reckless thing Nik had ever done.
Really, that voice hadn’t steered him wrong yet. He should probably be alarmed by how attached he was after a chance meeting, a handful of kisses, several obnoxious emails and a couple days of faking it. But, technically, Nik had known Aria for weeks now. If they were his parents, they’d already be married.
Sweet on the Greek: An Interracial Romance (Just for Him Book 3) Page 7
