Nick glance down at his watch. Three o’clock. They’d been at the hospital less than thirty minutes.
Walking over to Regina, Nick tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up, her big dark eyes wide in her pale face.
“Regina, have you seen Blake?”
“I think she went to get some drinks, but she may need some help carrying them.”
Nick looked at the glass walls that separated the entertainment room from the main hall, but he didn’t see her. “Be right back. I’ll just go see if I can help her.”
“You do that,” Regina replied with a small smile.
Nick stalked out of the entertainment room in the direction of the cafeteria, cursing her for going off by herself. Doesn’t she know how to listen?
He was almost to the cafeteria when he heard her laugh. She was walking down the hallway toward him with a man at her side. A handsome doctor with gray sideburns, carrying a cooler full of drinks.
Nick felt every hair on his body stand on end. He didn’t say anything. He just stood there waiting, feeling like every muscle in his body had clenched tight.
Blake didn’t notice him standing there for a few moments. When she did, she smiled, tossing her hair. “Hey, Nick, some of the kids were thirsty.”
Nick couldn’t unclench his teeth enough to speak, so he just nodded.
A slight frown gathered between her eyes, but she gestured to the doctor walking beside her. “This is Dr. Miller. He’s been filling in for Regina while she was gone.”
When they were within a few feet of him, they stopped and the doctor set down the cooler, seeming a little uncertain. Nick managed to get his arm to move, but his body remained stiff, unyielding. “Good to meet you, Dr. Miller. Nick Cord.”
Blake raised an eyebrow at him, clearly asking him what was wrong, but he ignored her and shook hands with the doctor, restraining himself from squeezing. He was under control, damn it.
“Nick’s a friend of Milton and Regina. He’s one of the owners of Accendo.”
“Nice to meet you,” Miller said with a touch of wariness in his eyes. Good.
“Can I help with something?” Nick offered, releasing the doctor’s hand. “I can take the cooler so you can get back to work.”
The doctor glanced at Blake, who’d put her hands on her hips and was staring at Nick like he’d sprouted horns.
“Sure.” He gestured to the cooler at his feet. “I guess I’d better. Blake, it was great to meet you. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Blake agreed, but she hadn’t taken her eyes off Nick. She waited until the doctor had disappeared down the hall before she said, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
27
BLAKE TRIED TO enjoy hanging out with the kids after Nick’s behavior in the hallway, but she couldn’t help but send glances his way every so often. He tried to hide it, but he was rigid with tightly held emotions. Milton had noticed, as had Regina.
Blake wanted to drag him outside and demand that he talk to her, but realized that it was neither the time nor the place to have a fight, which was what this was shaping up to be. Some kind of fight involving her talking to a doctor at the hospital. Her stomach felt knotted and the tops of her shoulders ached with tension. It wasn’t the same as the way Carlos had treated her, but it felt similar, like he was somehow finding her at fault. She’d understood on some level that he was jealous—he’d mentioned hating that she worked as a waitress, but she hadn’t known his feelings were that strong. She’d been in arguments with Nick before, but she’d never seen him like this.
They left the kids after they’d been there about an hour. Milton and Regina took Regina’s Bentley and Nick and Blake climbed into the backseat of the limo.
This time Blake didn’t cuddle up to him. She sat on the seat across from him and waited. He looked at her once and the coldness in his eyes made her shudder. She looked away, hunching in on herself, until she realized that she was behaving like she had with Keenan, and Carlos, and Phillip, watching him warily and trying not to draw his attention. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Nick wasn’t those men. There was no reason for her to be afraid of him. He was her friend and she knew him. He might be jealous, but he wouldn’t hurt her on purpose, and she was strong enough to call him on it for hurting her by accident. Her counselor explained that it was about keeping her boundaries, and not letting people—even people she loved—treat her poorly.
Swallowing, she straightened her shoulders. “Nick, tell me what’s bothering you. You’re freaking me out.”
A muscle moved in his jaw, but he didn’t answer.
“Nick.” She moved to sit next to him and tried to take his hand in hers. He allowed it, but his body was still tense. Surely he wasn’t this upset because someone had talked to her in a hallway.
“I looked around and couldn’t find you,” he bit out. “I thought . . . I couldn’t help but wonder if Keenan had somehow gotten to you there. And then I saw you talking and laughing with that doctor.”
Blake hadn’t meant to scare him. “I’m sorry. I should have asked someone to come with me. That was stupid. But why are you upset about Dr. Miller? He asked if he could help me carry the cooler and I said yes.”
“He wanted you.”
Blake shrugged, uncomfortable with the way the conversation was running, but not willing to entertain his idiocy. “Maybe. Who cares?”
He looked at her, and his eyes were no longer cold, but blazing with heat. “You were flirting back.”
Blake felt herself getting angry. She was not fucking doing this again. Not again. “I was being myself. He offered to help and I let him.”
Nick looked away from her, but his fist had curled into a ball in his lap. “I know. I know that, but when I saw him talking to you, I—”
He whipped his head back in her direction and she flinched automatically. His face paled. “This is why I knew I shouldn’t fuck you. I want you every minute. I want you next to me, touching me, and no one else to lay eyes on you. I am a fucking madman and you deserve better than this.”
“You’re right.” She lifted her chin. “I don’t deserve to have you angry because someone spoke to me. I don’t deserve to be treated like I did something wrong.”
He nodded. “Like I said.”
She put a hand on his arm. “But if this is a problem you have, we can work on it. You would never hurt me. I know that.” He wouldn’t hurt her, but it was a problem. One that would undoubtedly take counseling if it wasn’t going to end up hurting them both.
His eyes rested on her for a long moment, but she could tell that she hadn’t convinced him of anything. “You would get tired of it. You would figure out that you deserve someone who doesn’t have all this emotion tearing around inside. You deserve someone better. I knew it even before today.”
“You’re afraid,” she said baldly.
When he didn’t respond, she leaned over and took his face in her hands, making him look at her.
“I get that you’re afraid,” she whispered more gently. She didn’t mention what she’d already figured out—that he loved her. “But let me tell you something I’ve learned. You can’t let fear rule your life. Not fear of being alone, or fear of someone hurting you, or fear of losing someone. You know what it does, Nick. You’ve seen it with your father.”
His eyes burned. “That’s why I tried to stay away from you. I don’t know if I can control it.”
“You don’t have to.” She dropped a soft kiss on his lips. “You just have to acknowledge it and let it go.”
“That easy?”
“Imagine we’re sailing,” she said softly. “We’re sailing on that little dinghy you like to call a boat and the sun is shining.”
“Blake.” His hands reached up to grasp her upper arms.
She kissed him again, molding her lips to his this
time. He resisted at first, but after a moment he gave in and kissed her back desperately, his hands sliding into her hair.
Blake shifted so that she could climb into his lap without breaking the kiss. She didn’t want to lose him, didn’t want to lose how she felt, how this felt. Even knowing he had this issue, knowing it would be a problem, she felt strong enough to handle it, to help him with it. He loved her. She knew he loved her.
Glad of the partition that Shane had wisely put up when he’d seen their expressions on leaving the hospital, Blake wriggled on Nick’s lap, wishing she’d worn a skirt. He was hard beneath her, she could feel him even through both their jeans.
His hands slid to her hips and squeezed, making her gasp, and he took the opportunity to find the bottom of her T-shirt and tug it over her head. He didn’t take it off, though. He left it so that it trapped her arms behind her, and bent his head in between her breasts, burying his face between them as his hands cupped either side and his thumbs stroked her nipples through the padding of her bra.
“Nick,” she begged. “Please.”
She wasn’t entirely sure what she was begging for, but as long as he didn’t stop touching her, she didn’t feel as afraid that he would change his mind and push her away.
He drew down one cup of her bra, exposing her nipple, and bent his head to capture it in his mouth, sucking strongly at it while she gasped and thrust her hips forward. The other breast received the same attention, until her nipples were red and distended, glistening with the wetness of his mouth.
He was staring at his handiwork, weighing her breasts in his hands, when Blake lost patience. She slid down out of his lap and went to her knees between his legs.
He tried to stop her, but she managed to free her arms from her T-shirt, and unfastened his jeans, easing the zipper carefully over an impressive erection until he sprang free, hard and pulsing.
Bending her head, she took him in her mouth and tasted, letting her lips brush the sensitive tip. When he groaned, she used one hand to brace herself against his thigh and gripped the base of his cock with the other. As the limo rolled gently down the road, bouncing occasionally, she slid her mouth up and down his cock, keeping her lips taut and pressed tightly against his pulsing flesh.
“Shit, Blake. Baby, you have to stop. I’m going to—”
She knew what he was going to do. She could tell by the way his hips were rising and falling, by how quick his breathing had become. She moved more quickly, taking him thoroughly, not letting him go for a moment, and when the base of his shaft began to pulse, she opened her throat and drank every drop of the hot proof of his desire for her.
When she’d wrung every last drop from him, she sat back on her heels and considered him. He was more relaxed, but his eyes were still bleak.
Blake felt tears sting her own eyes. “Nick.”
“We’re almost home,” he said, interrupting her. He fixed his pants so that he was once again covered and held a hand out to her. “Come on.”
Blake ignored the hand, locating her shirt, drawing it over her head, and fixing her bra. With a sharp, frustrated curse, she climbed back into the seat as the limo pulled up under the garage of Nick’s apartment.
“I’m going to have Shane take me to the office.” Nick’s gruff voice sounded distant and far away, like the wind was snatching it. “I have a few things I need to do, and I’ll drive the Subaru home. He should be back in time to take you to your support group meeting, if you still want to go.”
Blake was having trouble believing that he thought he could just ignore what had just happened. “Aren’t we going to talk about this?”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Tonight, okay? We’ll talk about it tonight.”
Blake wasn’t sure she’d gotten through to him, but she wasn’t going to give up. They could talk tonight, and the night after, and the night after that, but she wasn’t going to let him put her in a safe little compartment of his life where he didn’t have to feel.
“All right, Nick. Tonight.”
28
ROLAND WAS WAITING for him when Nick stepped off the elevator at the office, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his dark blue eyes concerned.
“Milton told me something happened at the hospital. Was it Keenan?”
No, it had been him. He’d scared her. “No,” he said shortly, and moved past Roland to head for his office.
Roland followed him.
“I don’t feel like talking,” Nick muttered.
“Too bad.”
Ignoring his friend, Nick walked around his desk and took a seat, but he didn’t turn on his display. Roland took the chair across from his desk and put one ankle on his knee like he intended to get comfortable for a nice, long chat. Roland looked prepared to wait him out until the end of time if necessary.
“I’m no good for her,” he said finally. “I saw her talking to someone—this doctor—and it was like I completely lost control of myself. I hated it. I hated her talking to him. This is why I always kept my distance. I can’t not feel this way about her.”
“Hmm . . .” Roland pressed his palms together and put the tips of his fingers to his lips. “What did she say about it?”
She’d sucked his cock, Nick thought a little wildly. She’d taken his cock inside that beautiful mouth and drank him down, even licking her lips a little when she’d moved away.
“She said that she deserved better.” That was true. She’d said that. “And she’s right.”
Roland tapped his fingers against his lips and looked expectant. “What else did she say?”
Nick shrugged. “She said she knew I would never hurt her, and that if this was a problem I have, we could work on it.”
“So, you don’t want to do that?”
Nick clenched his teeth. Even if he learned how to be with Blake and managed this flood of emotions that seized him whenever he thought about losing her, she deserved someone who didn’t have issues like this. After a while, she would realize that as well, and he would be left alone to deal with the wreck he’d become. “She’ll realize that she doesn’t have to settle for me. She can find someone who doesn’t have this issue.”
Roland dropped his hands and sat back, tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “Let me get this straight. You think she deserves better and you’re convinced that one day, no matter what you do, she’ll realize that and leave.”
It had happened before . . . over and over again when he was a kid. He knew exactly how it would work, every time.
Nick nodded.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Roland said in disgust, standing up. He left Nick’s office and shut the door.
Nick blinked. That was it? Roland was just going to leave with that?
A minute later the door opened again and Roland stood there with boxing gloves draped around his neck and his gym bag in hand.
“Get your stuff. We’re going to have a chat while I beat some sense into you.”
Blake held Missy in her lap and sat slowly on the edge of Nick’s bed, shaken by what had just occurred. It had been so much like what had happened with Keenan, with Carlos and Phillip—the questions, the accusations. He’d realized that he was being unreasonable, of course, and he was Nick, but how could he just give up like that? How could he just decide that what they had wasn’t even worth trying?
Was he right? Was she deluding herself into loving yet another person who didn’t deserve it? No. She knew him. She wasn’t going to doubt herself.
The kitten purred beneath her fingers—she was probably hungry. Numbly, Blake stood and carried her into the kitchen.
While Missy ate, Blake changed into comfortable clothes and her motorcycle boots in case it rained, as it had been promising to all evening. She located her coat and purse and sat on the couch while she waited for Shane to return and take her to the support group meeting
. She felt strangely numb, and didn’t even smile as Missy dashed into the living room with the mouse toy in her mouth, dropping it and pouncing on it in turns.
Her phone beeped. Shane was downstairs.
Blake caught Missy after several attempts and put her away into the kitchen before heading to the elevator to go downstairs. As she walked through the apartment, she realized how much she had grown comfortable there, how easily she could imagine sliding into real life with Nick, hanging out with him in the evenings, going sailing, playing with him in bed and out of it.
She loved him. But she’d thought she loved Keenan, and Carlos, and Phillip. Was he right not to trust her love, not to believe that they could work on anything together, including her fear and his jealousy?
Blinking back tears, Blake straightened her shoulders as she rode down the elevator. Maybe someone at the support group would help her figure it out.
Most of the employees at Accendo had gone home for the day by the time Nick and Roland had changed and stood together in the impromptu boxing ring. It was nearly five o’clock, and Blake would be on her way to her support group, where they would undoubtedly tell her that she should end her relationship with him immediately.
Nick wasn’t sure why Roland wanted to box, but he was glad for the distraction, glad for the excuse to expend some of the murderous rage that had overcome him at the sight of that doctor’s leering face.
Roland walked to the center of the ring and Nick met him, hoping that his friend was prepared for the fight. Roland swung and Nick ducked, jabbing at Roland’s side, but his friend dodged away from the blow.
“So you got jealous,” Roland said.
Nick threw a punch at Roland’s head, only to be blocked and suddenly fighting off a combination of punches that had him taking several steps backward.
“Yes,” he snarled. “I’ve always been jealous. I’ve wanted to kill every man that has touched her for ten years.” He stepped forward and tried his own combination, kneeling slightly to aim for Roland’s side, trying to get in under his guard.
A French Whipping Page 21
