I breathed, “Oh, Officer Cox—”
“Eric. Please, call me Eric.”
Over his shoulder, Barney stared at us in confusion. He obviously didn’t know that the good officer and I shared a friend in common.
“Uh, well, Eric.” I cleared my throat. How the hell was I going to tell him? No, I couldn’t. This was unbelievable.
When I hesitated, he glanced up and saw the look on my face. His own went beet red.
“Shoot. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t put you in this position. Forget I said anything, this was really dumb of me—”
“Promise me you won’t tell Chloe.” I reached out and touched his arm.
His brows drew together. “Well, Miss Reid—”
“Kat, please.”
“Okay, Kat. I want to know, but I won’t lie to Chloe. And if what you’re going to tell me is something I’m going to need to talk to her about, I can’t promise I won’t tell her.”
Shit. Of course not. Black/white, lies/truth, deceit/disclosure. The universe was trying to tell me something today.
But if I were in his shoes, I’d want to know. He was a good man. I could see he really cared for Chloe. And from what she’d told me, she cared for him, too. Except for this one little thing.
“Have you ever had a massage?” I blurted.
Eric blinked, taken aback. “Like a happy ending thing, is that what you mean?”
“No! Oh, God, sorry, no I mean a real massage. Like a sports massage.”
Relieved I wasn’t going in a weird direction, Eric relaxed. “Yeah, of course. I used to play football in college. Got sports massages all the time, helps with muscle recovery.”
“Okay, good. And you know how, sometimes when you’re getting a massage, the masseur can go a little overboard, get a little too . . . er . . . enthusiastic, and it winds up hurting more than it feels good?”
His brow crinkled. Even his dimples looked confused.
I sighed. “What I’m saying so badly is that sometimes less is more. With massages, and also with . . . kissing.”
There was a beat of silence before he got it. Then, like a glass being filled from the bottom, he turned red from his chin to his hairline and groaned. He covered his eyes with his hand. “Oh, geez. Oh, boy. Ouch.”
“I’m so sorry. This is awkward. I shouldn’t have told you.”
He waved my apologies off. “No, you’re doing me a favor, trust me. That’s not the first time I’ve heard it.” He grimaced. “My last girlfriend dumped me after three months because she said she couldn’t imagine having to eat my tongue for every meal for the rest of her life.”
“Oh, God. That’s terrible!”
He shrugged, looking at his feet again. “I kinda thought she was just being mean, but apparently it’s an issue.”
An uncomfortable silence followed. I shifted my weight from one foot to another, eager to end the conversation. “Look. I know Chloe really likes you, okay?”
He looked at me with big puppy-dog eyes. “She does?”
“Yes,” I said emphatically, nodding. “She does. She said you two have a lot in common, and you make her laugh, and she thinks you’re really hot.”
He beamed and stood up a little straighter, puffing out his chest.
“And I really think that if you just, um, make an effort to be a little more, uh . . . ”—holy hell this is so freaking uncomfortable—“gentle, everything will work itself out. Maybe you could even let her take the lead. Let her show you what she wants.”
By this time, my face was as red as his had been moments before, but I thought it would all be worth it if he and Chloe could figure out a workaround to this problem.
God knew there were worse things they could be dealing with.
Officer Cox held out his hand. Surprised, I shook it.
“Thank you, Kat. I appreciate you telling me about this. And now that I know what it is, I promise I won’t tell her we had this conversation, if you still don’t want me to.”
I could tell by the look on his face he was hoping no one would ever bring it up again. I made a zipper motion across my mouth. “My lips are sealed.”
He grinned, and I had to admit he was handsome. And charming. And sweet. I really hoped they could work it out, because he seemed light years better than any other guy Chloe had been with.
“Deal. And I owe you one.” He dipped his head in farewell, and turned and walked to the squad car and his waiting partner, a new spring in his step.
Barney ambled over as they drove away. Watching the back of the squad car disappear down the long slope of the driveway, he said mildly, “Well. He seems like a good sort. And it never hurts to have a cop who owes you a favor.”
A cop who owes you a favor.
A thousand unsaid things screamed out around those few, simple words. I felt the weight of every single one of them, and knew what they all really meant.
This, too, was a test. Barney wanted to know where my loyalties lay. He wanted to know if he could trust me. If Nico could trust me. If they both could trust me to keep the secrets that had held them together for so long.
And how far I was willing to go to do that.
Though unspoken, the question had been asked. My gut responded with an answer. Instantly, without fanfare or much emotion, I knew something about myself I hadn’t known before.
“He’s the one who did me a favor,” I said, still looking at the empty driveway. My hand lifted to the gold charm nestled in the hollow of my throat. My fingers rested on it, feeling its shape and solidity, my pulse beating softly beneath.
“How’s that?”
I turned my head, meeting Barney’s intense gaze. “He just taught me what my priorities are. With how I chose to answer his very first question. With what I chose to put in, and leave out.”
He studied me. “And what are those priorities, Kat?”
Without hesitation, I pointed at the door. “Every single one of them is inside that house.”
I turned and went inside to find Nico.
I found him without searching, without wondering, just using a hunch so strong it felt like a premonition. I stood outside the shower in the master bathroom and watched him inside, palms flat against the wet tile, leaning with his head bowed and eyes closed, unmoving, letting the water pound over his naked body.
He was beautiful. Like a sculpture.
Stepping out of my heels, I unbuttoned my blouse and let it fall to the floor. My skirt came off next, then my panties and bra, every piece of clothing dropped to the tile as quickly as my hands could remove it. I opened the shower door. A billow of steam lifted my hair from my shoulders, kissed moisture all over my skin in warm beaded drops.
Nico raised his head. His eyes blazed when he saw me, and he straightened. He opened his mouth to speak.
“No.” I touched my fingers to his lips. “No talking. It doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters but this.”
I kissed him.
He responded instantly, groaning into my mouth. He pinned me against his chest with an arm like an iron band around my back, pulling my head back with his other hand fisted in my hair. Breathing hard, trembling all over, he pressed me against the smooth tile wall and ravaged my mouth.
I knew what he needed. This was how we communicated best. Pounding heartbeats and desperate kisses and skin on heated skin, we surrendered without thought or hesitation to the thing that always burned between us, the aching desire and greedy, dark need.
“Kat.” His voice broke when he said my name. “I’m sorry. Of course your feelings matter—”
“Shh,” I whispered. “I know. I already know.”
I turned in his arms, flattened my palms against the slick shower wall, leaned forward, and looked over my shoulder. Nico’s hands gripped my hips. His erection pressed against my bottom. He licked his lips and stared at me in silence, waiting. I’d never seen such a look of lust.
I placed my hand on his, and slid it down my hip, to my bottom. Nico’s avid gaze fol
lowed the motion, then snapped back to mine. Water dripped down his brow. Caught on his long lashes, a single drop fell to his cheek like a tear.
Voice husky, barely audible above the spray of the water, I said, “Do it.”
His lashes fluttered closed. When they opened again, Nico’s expression held a new, dangerous edge.
He slapped my ass, hard.
Pain, stinging hot, exploded like a firework over my skin. I jumped and sucked in a breath, but I’d been expecting it.
He slapped me again. This time I moaned. The pain was brighter, sharper. My back arched. My eyes slid shut. He steadied me with his fingers curved firmly around my hipbone.
When his hand made contact with the tender flesh of my ass a third time, the pain was so strong I went up on my toes, gasping.
“Take it,” he said in a low, raw voice. “Take it for me, Kat.”
Heart pounding, I bowed my head between my raised arms. I whispered, “Yes.”
Seven more swift, merciless blows, and it was over.
Nico’s arm snaked around my waist. He pulled me against his chest, and pressed his lips to my ear. “Beautiful,” he breathed and slid his hand between my shaking legs.
My head fell back against his shoulder. My heart was pounding so frantically I could barely catch my breath. With his strong fingers stroking through my wetness, he lifted his free hand to my breast and gently pinched my nipple. Sensation sizzled through me, hot as the steam billowing around us. I made an incoherent sound of pleasure.
Nico turned me around, and pushed me against the shower wall. He dropped to his knees in front of me, and buried his face between my legs. Hot water rained over his back, splashing up onto my stomach and breasts, onto my hard, aching nipples.
“Please!” I begged, arching into his mouth. My bottom throbbed, my nipples throbbed, my blood screamed through my veins. It felt as if the whole world would explode.
Suckling my clit, Nico slid his fingers deep inside me. I came, crying out his name.
My knees buckled, but before I could fall, Nico picked me up in his arms. He kicked open the shower door, strode through the bathroom into the bedroom, and set me gently on the bed. He found a condom in the nightstand drawer, and rolled it down the length of his beautiful hard cock as I watched, trembling, emotion overwhelming me. He knelt on the mattress and spread my legs, running his open palms down my thighs, his dark gaze on mine. Rivulets of water dripped down his chest.
Silently, watching my face, he eased inside me. Stretching around his girth, I shuddered, exhaling a soft moan.
He lowered his body to mine so our chests were pressed together, and put his hands on either side of my face. He rocked deeper into me. I flexed my hips in response, needing every inch of him inside. When his thrusts gained speed, I folded my legs around his waist and hooked my ankles together, my heels pressed to his spine.
We didn’t speak. It felt even more intimate because of it. We stared into each other’s eyes, our bodies moving together, our ragged breaths drawn together, our hearts beating in time.
Nico lowered his head, took one of my nipples in his mouth, and sucked. Close to another orgasm, I moaned again. The sound made Nico growl softly against my breast and suck harder. With just enough force to make me jerk, he bit down on my nipple.
Filled with a sudden, violent need, I sank my fingers into his wet hair and gripped his head.
I knew he felt the change in my body, knew he understood my wordless plea. I knew because he slid one hand around my throat and squeezed lightly, then bit down harder on my nipple as he began to fuck me with stronger thrusts, and greater speed.
My body bowed. Yes.
“Not yet.”
Hearing his husky command, I groaned my frustration. I couldn’t hold back much longer. My fingers twisted tighter in his hair. I squeezed my eyes shut, biting my lip.
Nico made a sound like a hiss. All the muscles in his arms and back tensed. He thrust into me three more times with almost violent force, then grunted, “Now, baby! Now!”
The orgasm ripped through me, stiffening my entire body, curling my toes. I screamed. Nico’s answering groan was broken, guttural. Deep inside me, he throbbed. Delirious with pleasure, I ground my pelvis against his, my fingers digging into the bunched muscles of his arms. Bucking and crying out beneath him, I rode every thrust, milked every twitch of his cock.
I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted him inside me forever.
His arms sagged. I drew him down against me and kissed him recklessly, mindless of our clashing teeth. He kissed me back just as savagely, his mouth crushed to mine, his tongue invading. I tasted salt and rust and knew he’d drawn blood, or I had. A primal thrill had me sinking my nails into his back.
Breaking the kiss, he laughed, a sound thick with satisfaction. “Little tiger,” he panted, pressing his forehead to mine. “My fierce, sweet, beautiful Kat.”
Nico looked down at me with so much emotion in his eyes, I wanted to cry, but I steeled myself against it.
I realized at that moment that there would be no jumping off this speeding train to land in safety on the ground. It was going too fast. A jump would break me.
And so might staying aboard to discover our final destination.
I turned my face away from Nico’s, and stared out the wall of glass to the city glittering in the afternoon sunshine below, wondering how badly this was all going to end.
It would only take another twenty-four hours to find out.
The House of Blues on the Sunset Strip is a funky, rock ’n’ roll mash-up of a bar, nightclub, restaurant, concert venue, and eclectic voodoo art gallery. In the members-only Foundation Room on the top floor, exclusive guests can revel in high-class debauchery and feast on southern-inspired cuisine, while downstairs in the music hall patrons can listen to some of the most famous bands in the world play live, while rubbing shoulders with the biggest A-list celebrities.
As soulful as it was sinful, it was the perfect venue for Bad Habit’s EuroTrash tour kickoff party.
“After what happened yesterday, I’m surprised you’re in the mood for a party.”
Grace’s voice on the other end of the line was neutral. She knew full well I was in no mood for a party, just as well as I knew she was in no mood to hang out with the band. I was hoping she’d come as a favor to me; right now, I really needed my girls. Chloe had already agreed to come, and she was even bringing Eric. I had high hopes about what that might mean.
“Believe me, it’s the last thing I want to do. I spent all morning at my house trying to clean up the mess. I’m exhausted.”
“Then why go? Stay home and soak in a bubble bath with a bottle of wine.”
I debated for a moment, then dismissed the idea. “If I don’t go, Nico won’t go, and then there won’t be any party. I don’t want to ruin it for everyone else just because I’d rather bury my head in the sand.”
“Which is a perfectly reasonable response to major trauma,” Grace quipped, “even if it’s not ultimately useful. Cut yourself some slack, Kat. You’re going through a lot right now. It’s normal to feel overwhelmed.”
I made a noncommittal noise, not really wanting to delve too deeply into the dark state of my psyche. Monsters lurked in there.
“And speaking of overwhelmed,” Grace continued briskly, “I can’t believe security at the House of Blues can possibly be counted on to keep out the kind of riffraff that’s sure to be stalking Bad Habit.” Her voice turned cutting. “Not to mention the riffraff that’s stalking you.”
I’d told her the whole story about Michael. Our encounter at Avery’s wake, the night I’d awoken to the figure in the bedroom door, the wreckage at my house. She’d been furious with me when I admitted I hadn’t told the police my suspicions about Nico’s brother.
She’d been even more furious when I told her about the engagement. Her anger took the form of a long, frozen silence that chilled my ear right through the phone. She’d kept her word about keeping her opinions to hersel
f, though. She simply offered a polite, “Congratulations,” and we’d moved on to the subject of the party.
It must have been hell on her to bite her tongue. I was going to give her a huge hard hug when I saw her next.
“Nico’s got so many cops coming you won’t be able to walk ten feet without bumping into a man with a gun. And Barney has a bunch of his freelance undercover buddies scheduled to be there, too. Security will be tighter than a nun’s snatch. If anyone so much as sneezes the wrong way, he’ll have ten cops up his ass before you can say ‘God bless.’”
“What lovely visuals,” said Grace with distaste.
“Those are Nico’s words, not mine.”
“Naturally.”
We shared a small laugh, then fell into tense silence. After a moment, she sighed. “I’m worried about you.”
“I know, Grace. And I love you for it.”
When I didn’t add more, she sighed again. I imagined her tapping her perfectly manicured nails on the mahogany desk in her office, staring at the PhD in psychology from Stanford framed on the wall, wondering how she’d wound up with such a train wreck for a best friend.
“All right. I’ll go to this party of yours—”
“Bad Habit’s,” I corrected.
“—whatever. I’ll go to this party, and be nice, and pretend to have a good time, because I love you, too.” Her voice turned thoughtful. “And it might be mildly amusing to observe the hero-worship dynamic in collective. It’s fascinating how adults can idolize entertainers as if they’re gods—”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, that’s very interesting, Doctor Freud. Now can we please talk about what we’re going to wear?”
“Aside from a liberal coating of anti-bacterial hand cream? Of course.”
“I’m pretty sure you won’t have to shake anyone’s hand, Grace. It’s not exactly a business meeting.”
“And I’m pretty sure one can catch a virulent strain of gonorrhea from the toilets in places like the House of Blues.”
Sweet as Sin Page 27
