Threads Of Desire (Creative Hearts Book 3)

by K. M. Jackson

  He arched his brow. “Just adding a bit of sweetness to the sweetness.” He poured her a glass of the bubbly, handed it to her, then lowered his head. “You just lean on back and enjoy your meal and I’ll enjoy mine.”

  Gabby took a long swig of the fizzy drink as Nick did something positively decadent with that strawberry and his tongue. She was grateful for his fast hands and quick thinking when her back arched and her head fell back and the fluted glass slipped from her fingers to his and didn’t crash to the ground.

  Chapter 14

  “I was a virgin, you know.”

  The sun was rising and Nick was drifting off to sleep in Gabby’s arms, his head cradled on her breast. He was deeply content in her lush softness. He knew this was as close to heaven as he’d ever get or ever deserved to.

  His eyes slid further open catching the lazy sunrays just barely grazing across her creamy brown skin. They were back in her bed where they could stretch out more comfortably after having finished their late-night meal, which was more of a treat for him than he’d dared imagined. Nick felt Gabby’s heartbeat fluttering under his ear. It seemed to pick up pace with her declaration and his own followed suit. He was a young boy again as guilt washed over him with her soft words of admonishment.

  “I know,” he croaked out.

  He felt her go tense, the softness and the pliancy leaving her body. He ran a hand gently down her side, but she shoved it away and sat up. Looked at him with eyes that were cold and accusing in the light of day.

  “If you knew, then why did you do it?” Gabby drew her knees up and put her head down on top of them, her curls falling forward. Nick leaned in. The tangled sheet formed a barrier between them now. He kissed the top of her head, wanting her to raise it and look up at him, but she didn’t.

  Why? He let out a breath and leaned back on his haunches staring at her. How could he answer her? Deep down he knew why, but how could he explain it? He felt his stomach knot. He didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t want to talk about anything. He just wanted to turn back the clock and get the night back. Have her back in his arms, on his lips; be inside her and let the outside world stay where it was. He raked his hand over his scalp and she looked up at him, pinning him now with her wide eyes. Then he knew where his uneasiness came from. He’d expected more—more anger, astonishment, maybe tears, some judgment. But there was nothing. Just a look of wide nothingness as she stared. “Why?” she asked.

  The question hung loud and real in the air, the word so big in the vast silence of a city without the hum of electricity. Nick longed for an alarm clock, a distant television, anything. But there was nothing. Just their breathing and her eyes. The same eyes that looked at him all those years ago when he’d hurt her the same way.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You said that before. But still I want to hear you answer why.”

  “Would it make any difference?”

  She lowered her gaze and shook her head. When her eyes came up again they were harder and softer at the same time. She was back. Her mask was on. “I guess not. It is what it is.”

  Nick sighed. He suddenly wanted to rip his own guts out. Claw at himself from the inside out for what he’d done. He leaned in and grabbed Gabby by the arms, pulled her to him, and kissed her. Hard. Fisting her hair in his hands, he captured her mouth as he let one hand trail to her breast and kneaded with all he had. He brought his other hand down to the sweet juncture between her thighs, probably rougher than he should have, and as his lips, tongue, and teeth tried to take and taste all of her that he could, he leaned over and brought her down low on the bed with him. She squirmed and arched, pushed at him at the same time as he felt the wetness start to come under his touch.

  “Stop.”

  “Please don’t make me,” he begged.

  “You know I will.”

  He sucked at her nipple, and despite her words, it hardened under his tongue and he pulled harder.

  “Stop.”

  “Gabby, please. Don’t make this the end,” he moaned against her, hard and ready, coming up to taste her sweet lips again.

  She went rigid again, freezing him with her eyes. “I asked you a question.”

  He fell down against her body, knowing he was hard and heavy, but somehow wanting to fall though her. Nick pushed up and off her with a sigh, rolling onto his back.

  “Shit, Gabby. Can’t ‘I’m sorry’ be enough? I know I hurt you. You trusted me that weekend to introduce you around. Take you to meet some people and I ended up being an ass. Worse than an ass. I don’t have an excuse. I’m my father’s son. What more could you expect from me?”

  With that declaration, she was quiet. Of course the mention of his father would seal the deal. He didn’t want to bring the man up. Didn’t want to use him as an excuse. But it was true. That kind of evil lived on. Was carried through from generation to generation. Gabby stared at him, her brown eyes breaking him down bit by bit. Finally she spoke. “I heard, you know.”

  Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. Shit. What was she talking about? What did she hear? His stomach seized up again with the fear of it, the anguish over the fact that he could have hurt her more than he knew. He closed his eyes briefly, readying himself, then opened them again, back to her hard gaze. “Tell me, what did you hear?”

  Her jaw tensed. But she was strong, stoic. He knew there would be no tears shed in front of him. Somehow, it gave him no comfort. She swallowed then spoke. “That night, when you left me. I heard you when you were talking to your…” she paused, the displeasure over the label clear in her tone. She continued after a beat, now even more solemn. “Your girlfriend. More than my virginity, I’d just given you my trust and my heart, something even more precious, and you dismissed me out of hand.”

  Just when Nick didn’t think he could go any lower, he did. He went from the high of being around her, inside her, finally living in the glorious light of her glow, to now feeling like sixty shades of shit. And still she stared, waiting for some sort of magic eraser to take away the thing he did, the words he’d said. But there are just some mistakes that can never be undone.

  He flopped back on the bed, staring at the light glinting on the crystal chandelier as the college weekend at Bonnersville came back to him in a rush. Steve telling him on the phone to give Gabby the royal treatment and her showing up in all her beautiful, young glory with those eyes, lips, and soft curves. And yes, right at the exact wrong time.

  Nick had been just getting his footing. Just figuring out his game. For the first time, he was his own man, not the Ross boy. He was putting his family, the past, and even his mother’s death behind him, and then she showed up, bringing it all back. Just what he didn’t want or need. He’d had a new girlfriend and she was perfect. Ava was a sweet co-ed, the president of her sorority, and, the daughter of the dean of the business department. He did, apparently, have a type.

  But at the party, those girls ragged on Gabby and made her feel small for her homemade clothes and her quirky style. When she ran off, and Nick went after her to check if she was okay, he’d found her in the walk-in coat closet. She was huddled in the back, barely visible under the dim overhead lights but she was there, silent and waiting for him to finish with his friends and retrieve his coat and take her home. She had that sad look in her eyes, a soft wash of tears brimming on the edges, and suddenly, all he’d wanted was to catch them before they fell. She looked up at him and he remembered his heart stopping for a moment as he caught a glimmer of trust there. It was so absolute that it scared him down to his bones. Then her lips began to tremble and it took him off the cliff.

  When he’d kissed her, it was as if every dream, every want he’d had for years exploded on his tongue. She was all of it, and he took, greedily, hungrily, afraid that in a blink, she’d realize what was happening and with whom and put a stop to it. But she didn’t back away as he expected. Instead, she opened for him like a flower on one of those time-lapsed videos, but seen with his own eyes and felt wit
h his hands. He fell to his knees at her feet, ready to worship her in every way he knew how.

  When he came back up, she was shaking, but smiling, a glowing smile that took his heart, flipped it inside out and back again in a way he didn’t think was possible. He thought he could live on that smile forever. But then she unbuckled his belt—it was a poor excuse, he knew, but he took it. Took it and ran with it. And when she took his length in her hands and her pretty pink nails raked over him he thought he’d spill right there. Right on her tight, white—and as the mean girls had pointed out—post-Labor Day skirt. But, no he didn’t spill and she shimmied that skirt up and took him. Took control as she often did. With her eyes and her hands and her mouth, she guided him, and before he knew it, he was up, and she was lifted, her panties to the side, and he was in. Oh, so tight and warm and perfect inside, where he could happily stay forever.

  Her shocked inward gasp was a calling to forever in his ear. She’d clutched at his shoulder, holding so tight it was as if it were a plea for him to never let her go. She’d tightened her legs around his waist and burrowed her cheek into his neck and he buried his head into her hair, the sophisticated up twist she had coming undone and tendrils falling around his ears, the smell of honey and peaches invading his senses. In two heartbeats and three quick strokes, it was over. The sensations had been so overwhelming, he wasn’t able to hold back. Nick was instantly embarrassed by his poor showing. But before he could apologize for that, a voice rang out from the front of the closet.

  It was Ava and, damn it, she was looking for him. He froze, silenced his breathing, and in a panic, put a warning finger over Gabby lips. Her eyes had narrowed and went cold, as he quickly pulled out of her. His heart pounding, Nick had righted his clothes, tucking himself back into his rumpled chinos. Gabby’s skirt was all twisted and wrinkled, up around her waist. Her blouse was open and her breasts were rising and falling quickly over the top of her bra. Her lips were full and lush, swollen from being kissed, and her hair was a tumbled mess, half up half down from his hands fisting through it. She gave him a half smile and his dick twitched.

  Ava called his name again from the hall. Shit, how would he explain himself? He looked at Gabby pleadingly. If Ava found out and told her dad, then his scholarship could be out the window. His future gone. He leaned in and whispered in Gabby’s ear. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back.”

  The look in her eyes was more than he could take. He knew that look. Had seen the hurt look way too many times on his own mother’s face when she saw the back of his father as he walked out the door to another woman. He tried to shake it off, but couldn’t. Nick knew then and there, the nature of his heart, and knew she could never be his. That a good woman could never be in his future.

  He grabbed his coat and met Ava in the hall. Remembering her words brought pain back to him. “Oh, you had me worried for a minute. I thought you’d run off with that little chubby girl.”

  He draped an arm around Ava’s shoulder, careful, he thought, to pull the closet door closed behind him. “Now why would I do that, baby, when I have you here to take home?”

  Nick turned from the twinkling of the chandelier in the sunlight and came back to the present, looking at Gabby again. “You were always too good for me. And I was always wrong for you. Can’t that be enough?”

  Gabby turned her head and looked at him straight on, seeing all of him, stripped down. Nick felt more raw and exposed than he ever had. She reached out and ran a hand gently across his tense jaw. It was so much more than he deserved, but it felt as hard as any smack she could have given him. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. “You know what, Nick. It’s fine. It’s over now. You are who you are, and this is what it is.” She got up from the bed then, slowly and sensuously, not bothering to wrap the sheet around her naked body.

  “I did go back for you, you know,” he said, by way of feeble attempt at explaining.

  She paused at the doorway, not bothering to look back at him.

  “That night. I know it was late but still, I made an excuse and went back to the closet to look for you, but you were gone. Then after, when I could, I went to your room and you were gone from there too. I know it was cowardly, but figured it was for the best.”

  She turned to him then, once again challenging him with the full force of her body, her beauty, her amazing power. But her eyes told a different story. They now looked weary. Like she was done. There was a resolution about her gaze that scared him. She nodded. It was small, barely noticeable but still a nod. “Good call.” Her voice was hollow, empty, as she turned away, making her way to the bathroom, leaving him with the image of her curvy behind and her straight back as he watched her walk out the door. “Really good call.”

  Chapter 15

  Once again, Nick was gone. Gabby emerged from the bathroom to find an empty bed and, this time, an empty apartment. After his wayward confession-slash-apology-slash-”it’s not you, it’s me” speech, she hadn’t known what to make of things, so she’d hidden out in the bathroom for a while soaking in the tub. She didn’t know the workings of her old-as-hell building, but she thanked God for ancient facilities and oil heat and relished the hot soak after the night she’d had. Her muscles were grateful for the soothing warmth.

  Nick talking about that night back at college brought so much back that she didn’t want to deal with. How did he expect her to believe that bull abouthim not being good enough when he’d gone straight from inside her to the arms of Little Miss Perfect? Sure, Gabby had heard her from the closet when she questioned him on where he’d been. And it hadn’t even hurt all that much when the skinny bitch had called her chubby. What did that matter? Gabby was used to it from girls like her.

  What hurt was Nick’s dismissal afterwards. The disappointment had been almost unbearable.

  Gabby’d heard Miss Perfect giggle, then say something about being quiet because they were in her father’s hallway. Gabby remembered thinking at the time that Nick must have been doing something quite naughty to get such a response. It sent the blood rushing loud in her ears, and her mind boiling with rage. She was hot and embarrassed and sticky and wet and all she could think was that she had to get out of there and find her way back home.

  She waited for their steps to fade before she made her way down a back staircase. Without passing go, she made her way to the temporary housing she was in, changed as quietly as she could, left a note for her weekend roommate, and headed to the bus station to go back home. She’d never heard from Nick. Didn’t see him until a year later when he returned home, the summa cum laude graduate with a bright future and a fresh job at an up-and-coming firm. They didn’t speak about what had happened, and she didn’t ask about the girl. Gabby’d guessed she was long gone. She’d done her job, and he was onto the next. Classic Nick.

  Just like the empty bed and apartment. He could never take her as she was. Of course he’d gotten out of there. As if he could really have anywhere to go with the city at a virtual standstill. She let out a sigh. It was probably better this way anyhow. They’d had a good night, and it was more than she’d ever expected considering their past. It was better that it was all out in the open now. She’d come home the night before vowing not to be the same woman and not to live life as she had in the past. She could go on from this. There would be no future with Nick, she’d known this from the start, and now the secrets were out. He knew now how much he’d hurt her with his careless words.

  Gabby’s brows drew together as other words of Nick’s pricked at the edge of her pain. “I’m my father’s son.” What did he mean by it? She wanted to dismiss it as just some excuse, a way to put her off, but something about the way he’d said it made her pause. She knew the damage their father had done to both Nick and Steve—hell, she knew firsthand the damage any parent could do, but she’d thought somehow Nick had come through the storm better. But something in his tone and in his eyes today said that smooth talk and that veneer of perfection was all an act. She didn’t k
now how she’d missed the curtain going up and down. Gabby shook her head and fell back on the bed. She let out a sigh and turned to her side.

  Suddenly the silence was too much to bear, and she wondered about the time. She reached for her cell. 6:43 am. So early. She really should just go back to bed. But she was wired. She sat on the edge of her bed and stared. The battery still had half its life on her phone, although her log showed six missed calls, and four voicemails. Funny, the phone hadn’t rung last night. She guessed service was a mess. Probably jammed up with the blackout.

  She checked the log. There was one from her mom and two from Steve, two from Sam, and a surprising one from Dono. Who would have thought? Gabby listened to her voicemails. Her mother had checked to see if she was all right, as had Samara. She had to chuckle when Dono offered to send a car letting her know he could put her up in a small place out in Queens if this went on. He had a friend with a room. How generous. But then Steve’s voice came on and she choked up. “Hey, babe, you all right? I heard from the crew about the blackout. I’m calling both you and Nick. That brother of mine had better be treating you right. I know you don’t like the dark. Stay well. Love you both. You take care of each other.”

  She suddenly wanted to cry. Just mewl like a baby. A choked sob escaped her lips. How had she let this happen? Why had she let this happen? Her mind was a swirling mass of confusion all tangled up with her stupid heart. She put the phone down and flopped back on the bed again, looking up at the chandelier and blinking back hot tears. It was then that she heard the front door open and she jumped up, swiping at her face. But he was there. Too fast he was in her doorway.

  “I’m sorry I went out. It was just a quick run but I wanted to see what was doing out there. How much damage there was.”

  Gabby cleared her throat, sat up straighter, and shrugged. So what? What did she care where he went? She looked at him. “And was there lots of, you know… damage?”