Baby, Drive South

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Baby, Drive South Page 21

by Stephanie Bond


  “Better after we brought her back inside.”

  “You brought her inside?”

  Porter dragged his hand down his face.

  “She likes it. The girls are taking turns feeding her and checking the cast. She’s doing great, walking around and getting stronger.”

  “That’s good,” Nikki agreed.

  “So,” Rachel said, lowering her voice suggestively, “are you having fun?”

  Nikki looked at Porter, who was watching…and listening. “Er…it’s been a productive trip.”

  “Oh, good grief, Nikki, let your hair down a little. That sexy man wants you, and if you’ve already decided not to stay in Sweetness, what harm can it do to have a fantastic one-night stand?”

  Nikki swept her gaze over his impressive body, and her mouth literally watered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Look inside the purse I loaned you,” Rachel said.

  Something told her not to ask for details. “Okay. Thank you and goodbye.” She quickly disconnected the call, then handed the phone back to Porter.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “The women are domesticating your wild animal.”

  He sighed. “Women have a knack for domesticating wild things.”

  Nikki’s heart skipped a beat. She had the oddest feeling he was alluding to something else.

  He craned his neck to look behind her. “How’s your room?”

  “Great—especially the air-conditioning.”

  “I prefer an open window myself.”

  It hit her then—how different and how wholly incompatible they were. Giving in to her physical urges would only leave her feeling more disconnected than before. From the bed, her phone chimed again. “I should get that,” Nikki said.

  “Okay. See you in two hours,” he said, and before she could voice a new protest, he closed the door on his side.

  She closed her door, then went to her phone. Darren had called again twice, and the last time he’d left another message. She listened with her heart pounding against her ribs.

  “Nikki, it’s me…again. I’m worried about you. I understand why you’re angry with me, but I need to know you’re okay. Call me. Please. I need to talk to you.”

  She listened to the message again, but could glean nothing in his intonation or nonverbal clues to determine his motivation for wanting to speak with her.

  But the fact that he’d used the word “I” four times was telling.

  She set the phone on the dresser and went into the lush bathroom. The bathtub looked inviting, but the large glass-walled shower with two showerheads looked like nirvana. She turned on the hot water to let the steam rise, then turned to the vanity mirror.

  Nikki could scarcely believe it was her reflection looking back.

  The women had been generous with their time and their supplies. In fact, they’d virtually swarmed on her when Rachel had announced that Nikki had agreed to a makeover. She hadn’t been allowed to go near a mirror while they applied chemicals to lighten her hair, then cut and styled it. Ditto while they arched her eyebrows and applied makeup. She’d received her first ever manicure and pedicure, and exfoliating scrubs to use in the shower. Shoes and dresses in Nikki’s size were scavenged from various closets.

  The results, Nikki marveled, studying the sweep of honey-colored hair across her cheekbones, were nothing short of amazing. But more than that, she’d had fun. It was perhaps the first time in her life that she’d felt as if she belonged. The women had buzzed around her, talking about the workers they’d met, comparing notes. Underneath the general feeling of indignation that these Southern men had a long way to go to impress them was a bubbling sense of optimism that the group had potential.

  All of the women had stories of heartache and betrayal. At first Nikki had felt on edge, afraid someone would pry for details about her split with Darren, but it was as if they’d formed an insulating bubble around her. No one mentioned her scandalous breakup, but she’d sensed they were letting her know through the retelling of their own bittersweet romances that she was part of a sisterhood of the brokenhearted.

  And that life went on.

  As she peeled off the borrowed clothes, Nikki felt a pang of appreciation for the women. And while she admired their tenacity when it came to finding love, deep down, she knew she was different. Since childhood she’d been unusually sensitive—things had impacted her on a deeper emotional level than other people. Over the years she’d developed a good exoskeleton to conceal her soft middle so others assumed she was unfeeling when, in truth, it was the opposite. Opening her heart to Darren Rocha had been a huge risk for her. Having it cut out and handed back to her had been so brutal, there were times when she thought she would die from the pain.

  She didn’t want to experience that kind of anguish again, ever. Whatever those other women had that made them want to gamble it all again for the chance of love, she was missing. Courage?

  Maybe.

  Suddenly her chest tightened and her eyes filled with unbidden tears. Grief was sneaky like that—it slipped up on her at quiet moments and reminded her that if she thought she was over Darren’s duplicity, she had, as her grammy would say, “Another think coming.”

  Still crying, she slipped under the showerheads and gave in to the tears. She felt racked with confusion, unsure of her place in the world. It gave her a tiny bit of insight into how the people of Sweetness might have felt when the tornado had ravaged their homes and scattered their belongings, sending them in search of a new place to put down roots. She wished Sweetness could be that new place for her.

  Little by little, the hot water relaxed her muscles and the hotel’s fragrant soap washed away her troubles for the time being. When she left the shower, she was feeling revived. She carefully applied the makeup and styled her hair like the women had shown her, and was pleased with the results. The teal-colored sundress complemented her skin and eyes, and silver-colored strappy heels gave her a lift. She glanced at her reflection in a mirror on the bathroom door and gave a little twirl.

  She was, she admitted, looking forward to having dinner with Porter. He was, by all measures, charming and attentive. The sexual tension that vibrated between them kept things playful and interesting. Rachel’s words came back to her and she acknowledged it wouldn’t take much to ignite their smoldering passion. But she knew enough about herself to know that a one-night stand wasn’t her style. As long as she maintained her distance, she could survive the night with her dignity intact. The man was on crutches, after all.

  She could outrun him if she had to.

  When it was time to meet him, she scooped up the clutch purse Rachel had lent her, then remembered she was supposed to look inside. At first glance, it was empty, but when Nikki unzipped the little side pocket, she found not one, but four condoms. A flush climbed her neck at the implication. She pushed them back in place, zipped up the pocket and added her wallet, a lipstick and a comb. Then she gave her outfit one last glance in the mirror, and to keep from wrinkling her dress, paced the room waiting for Porter to knock.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was still pacing. Thinking maybe he’d fallen asleep, she dialed his cell phone number, but he didn’t answer. Worse, she could hear it ringing through the doors that connected their rooms. Worry bloomed in her mind. Had he fallen?

  Nikki walked to the door on her side, opened it, and knocked on the door leading to his room. “Porter?”

  She pressed her ear to the door and heard his voice, but his words were unintelligible. She knocked again. “Porter? Are you okay?”

  His voice sounded again, still unintelligible, but higher—as if he was in distress. Her pulse jumped. She tried the knob, relieved to discover he’d left it unlocked. She stepped into his room, registering that the decor was similar, but in gray and pewter. He wasn’t in the big bed that dominated the room, although the coverlet was rumpled.

  The bathroom door was closed, but the light shining beneath the door told her it was occupie
d.

  “Porter?”

  “Nikki!” he shouted from the other side of the door. “Help!”

  She was there in two strides, her head filled with images of him lying in a bloody pool on the floor. She flung open the door…and came up short.

  28

  Instead of lying in a bloody pool, Porter was immersed in a dissolving bubble bath with his casted leg propped on the side of the tub. He grinned. “Hey, little lady doc.”

  At the sight of his big nude body, blood rushed to Nikki’s erogenous zones. His dark, damp hair hung in his eyes. His shoulders spanned the width of the tub. The hair on his chest merged into a dark rivulet that traveled down his abs and disappeared under the water. One of the few remaining mounds of bubbles covered his privates.

  “Wow, you look great,” he said, as if nothing was amiss.

  Nikki crossed her arms and frowned. “I thought you were in trouble.”

  “I am. I managed to get in, but now that I’m good and clean, I can’t get out.” He wriggled his wrinkled fingers. “I’m shriveling.” Then he held out his hand. “Help me up?”

  She hesitated.

  He scoffed. “Come on, doc, I know you’re stronger than you look. And you’ve seen pretty much all of me anyway.”

  Not everything, she almost said.

  “You can close your eyes,” he said wryly, as if he’d read her mind.

  He was mocking her. Nikki straightened and sighed. “Okay.”

  His hand disappeared in the water between his legs. Just when she was starting to wonder what he was doing, a sucking noise sounded, then the water level began to drop—quickly.

  In a few seconds, she’d get an eyeful of everything.

  “I’ll get you a towel,” she said, then pivoted to pull a thick bath towel off a rack. While she had her back turned, she gave herself a pep talk and tried to tamp down her racing pulse. She was a physician. She could view his naked body with a clinical detachment. She could. Nikki took a deep breath and turned back around.

  Just as all of the water drained out of the tub.

  She got a glimpse of impressive equipment before she tossed the towel over him. He unfolded it and arranged it over his waist, then extended his hand. Nikki set down her purse, then clasped his hand and leaned over to allow him to use her body as leverage to push up. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced her feet.

  One second she was upright and providing resistance, the next she was tumbling headfirst into the tub.

  She landed with an oomph on his slippery chest, nose to nose and knees to knees. Only the towel at his waist kept things rated PG-13.

  Nikki gasped. “You did that on purpose!”

  But he was all smiles and innocence. “Sorry, doc, I slipped. Honest.”

  She flailed, but couldn’t get a handhold on anything except firm, muscled flesh.

  “Easy,” he murmured, putting his arms around her. “You’re going to hurt yourself…or make things worse.”

  “I’m in a bathtub with you,” she said, shaking her head. “How could things be worse?”

  He wrapped a hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her mouth to his for an unexpected kiss so hot she could almost feel the steam rising from the tub. He thoroughly explored her mouth, then ended the kiss, but held her face close to his. “I want you, Nikki.”

  She was still rigid and trying to process where they were and how it was possible that he could elicit such wild responses from her body. Bodies, after all, were essentially the same—two of this, two of that, one of something else. From a scientific perspective, it didn’t make sense that this man could make her feel something different or better than another man could make her feel.

  Yet here she was trembling, overcome with the sensation that she might die if he stopped touching her. She was intrigued by her own uncharacteristic behavior. Darren’s face popped into her head, along with the nagging sense that she shouldn’t do anything she’d regret until she called him back.

  What if he wanted to get back together?

  Nikki pushed aside the thought and attacked Porter’s mouth with her own, stabbing her tongue against his. He groaned and ground her closer, deepening the kiss, giving her his breath when she needed more.

  He slid his hands down her back to cup her rear and press her against his sex bulging beneath the towel. Desire shot through her body, setting her on fire. She moved her hands over his chest and shoulders, massaging, caressing and dragging her nails over his skin.

  He shuddered and broke the kiss to nuzzle her neck, sliding the straps of her dress down her shoulders and deftly loosening the front buttons until her bare breasts fell forward.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, then rolled the hardened pink tips between his fingers, sending exquisite pleasure shooting through her body. He tasted one point, then the other, laving them with his warm tongue and drawing them into his mouth. Nikki bit into her lip to muffle her moans.

  “Does that feel good?” he murmured against her skin.

  “Umm.”

  “I want to make you feel good, baby.” He tugged the skirt of her dress to her waist, then lifted it over her head. The sensation of his springy chest hair against her bare skin was electric, sending moisture to the juncture of her thighs. He slid his hands inside her flimsy panties, kneading her buttocks. His eyes were hooded as he teased her secret flesh with his fingers. Nikki gasped and undulated into him. He plied her until she was practically faint, then he pushed down her underwear. Nikki fumbled to rid herself of them, registering dimly that she still wore her sandals as she sat up to straddle him.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, concerned the position was putting too much pressure on his leg.

  “One problem,” he murmured, and when she shifted, he pulled the towel from between them. His erection strained against her stomach, thick and unyielding. She clasped him, gratified at his sharp intake of breath.

  Then he stilled her hand. “We have to stop… I wasn’t planning this. I have protection, but it’s in the bedroom.”

  Nikki bit back a smile, then reached for the borrowed purse, still resting on the ledge of the tub. She fished out a condom and held it up.

  His eyes widened. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”

  “Long story,” she murmured as she ripped it open.

  “Tell me later,” he said, exhaling loudly as she rolled it on. He pulled her mouth down on his for a bottomless kiss, then whispered in her ear, “Are you ready for me?”

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  He lifted her hips and settled her down on his sex slowly, staring into her eyes. Nikki’s head lolled from the overwhelming sensation of being filled. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

  “Yes, I do,” he said as pleasure played over his face.

  Still concerned about his leg, she allowed Porter to set the pace. They found a slow rhythm so incredibly languid and deep, it was almost unbearable. Nikki immediately felt a climax swirling in her womb.

  “Is that good?” he asked.

  “Umm.”

  “Come here,” he said, and pulled her down for a stabbing kiss as he continued thrusting inside her.

  “Umm.” An orgasm was gathering…forming…building…

  “You’re so sexy, baby. You drive me crazy.”

  “Umm.” The pressure in her womb climbed higher.

  He flicked his tongue against her ear and suddenly Nikki’s body contracted involuntarily. She cried out as she crested, buffeted by some invisible force so powerful she thought she might shatter. The pinnacle lasted for several pulsating, white-light seconds, then she drifted down in long, pleasurable spasms that she didn’t want to end.

  It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

  Darn.

  Porter watched Nikki’s face as she descended from her climax. Being buried inside her felt so amazing, it took every bit of his concentration to hold off, to make sure she was fully pleasured before he took his own release. Even now, he didn’t want it to end
, wanted to prolong this intense feeling of looking into Nikki’s eyes and seeing her so raw and so vulnerable. It was heady to know he was responsible for bringing her to this sensual place…and gratifying to know that his instincts about her had been right.

  All that emotion she kept pent up during the day as she went about her business exploded in the hands of the person who knew which buttons to push.

  As if to confirm his theory, she leaned down to sigh in his ear, a noise that tapered to a satisfied moan.

  The sound of her complete fulfillment sent him over the edge. He gripped her tiny waist and thrust deep into her. Then he came with such intensity, it was as if she were pulling the life force out of him. He released a long guttural groan and held her against him as his body pulsed over and over.

  It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

  Damn.

  29

  Nikki woke up, startled, and knew instantly something was wrong.

  Darren didn’t snore.

  She turned her head to look at the man lying in the bed next to her and the mystery of the loud rumbling was solved—the man wasn’t Darren.

  Darren didn’t take up the entire bed and sprawl, spread-eagled as if he were lying on some deserted beach, sleeping off a hangover. Darren didn’t hog the pillows and kick all the covers from the bed.

  Nikki scanned Porter’s long, nude body and was bombarded with images of what they’d done last night….

  She squeezed her eyes shut. And Darren had never made her feel so indescribably, so deliciously, so incredibly good.

  But Porter Armstrong did.

  Sleepy street noises wafted through the window he’d left open in defiance of the air-conditioning. Nikki lifted her head to find the clock. It was still early…but not too soon for regrets.

  The previous night with Porter had been mind-bending, for sure. They hadn’t made it out of the hotel room, opting for room service and creating their own entertainment. The man was a machine—and that was with the encumbrance of a cast. When they’d finally fallen asleep from sheer fatigue they were both utterly sated.

  Nikki winced. And now what? They lived happily ever after?

 

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