“You might want to stop that for a minute,” Nicholas said breathlessly, pulling her hand up to kiss her fingers, before he rolled on his back, bringing her with him. “Unless you want this to be a very short ride. It’s been a while.”
Jena cocked an eyebrow.
“It’s not unheard of. I told you, I’m not Conor.” They laughed, and he stroked the hair away from her face. “Besides, everyone else pales once you’ve had perfection.”
She snorted, but lowered her head to kiss him before answering. “That’s probably the cheesiest line I will ever hear, Nicholas.” She kissed him again. “But thanks for the sentiment.”
“You’re welcome. And it’s true, you know. You’re perfect for me, Jena.” Nicholas ran his hand down her neck and chest to gently cup her breast. “You’ll never hear a cheesier line, either,” he murmured, “because I don’t think I can top that one, and I don’t want you with anyone else.”
Jena moaned and shivered as he rubbed her hard nipple with his thumb. Nick pushed her shirt up, and she helped him get it over her head. It joined Nicholas’s shirt on the floor as he eased her onto her back and ran his hand down her body from her neck to her waist. He gathered a handful of her hair to fan it over her breast, wondering if the contrast between her dark hair and white skin could possibly be as sexy as he remembered. Nicholas groaned again as he buried his face in the hair at her neck and let his hand slip against her breast over her silky hair, because it was better.
Jena sighed, and he raised his head to look into her eyes; the need in them took what was left of his breath away.
“I want you to touch me,” she said, her voice raw, vulnerable. She unbuttoned Nick’s pants and pulled the zipper down slowly before pushing the cloth down over his hips. “I want you inside me. I want you.”
“You’ve got me,” he murmured, taking a moment to prepare before spreading her legs and gradually entering her. Nicholas focused on the moment, wanted to feel every fucking thing, remember every second. She gasped, and he paused to enjoy the sensation of her enveloping him for the first time in months.
“You feel so good,” he muttered, trying to stay in control, to make it satisfying for her. Jena placed her hands on his cheeks, and kissed him deeply, wrapping one leg around his waist and the other around his thigh. The tiny bit of self-control Nicholas had left quickly departed as the slavering horde of hormones escaped their prison, giving a victory screech. Jena trailed her mouth over Nick’s jaw and neck, licking and nibbling as he started to move slowly inside her, not wanting it to be over too soon, even though he felt the pressure building in his belly already.
Jena rocked below him, moaning as their rhythm increased. Finally, she whispered, “I want to feel you come, Nicholas.” Just hearing her say that made it inevitable, and her clenching muscles and her moans assured Nicholas that she followed. She buried her head in the crook of his neck until her cries got softer and her shudders abated.
Nicholas started to shift to the side, afraid he was crushing her, and she clutched his back, murmuring, “Just…just wait for a minute. I like to feel you on me.”
He smiled, resting his forehead against her shoulder until she was still, and then he shifted, pulling Jena against his side as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” Nick whispered, brushing hair off of her face and dropping kisses on her eyelids.
Already mostly asleep, she kissed his neck and laid a hand on his chest. “My pleasure, Hot Bod,” she murmured. “Really.”
Nicholas felt his own eyes closing, but he chuckled as Jena softly began to hum “Happy Birthday” as she fell asleep.
Nicholas woke the next morning to the feeling of fingers running gently through his hair. Jena smiled as he cracked an eye open, tightening his arm where it lay across her waist. Her face was puffy from sleep, and her hair was wild around them…and she was the most beautiful thing Nick had ever seen. Three words he’d never said before swirled around in his brain, and he was startled. It was too soon to think that he was feeling that. Way too soon. Jena stroked his scruffy cheek, her eyes soft, and he decided lighten the mood.
“You’re still here!” Nicholas rasped jokingly.
“I didn’t leave last time,” she protested, tracing his lips with a fingertip.
Nicholas grabbed her hand and softly bit her finger before nestling it on his chest. “No, but you were all the way across the room when I woke up, not where I could do this.” He trailed his fingers over her thigh and hip, leaning over her so he could kiss her and feel the soft press of her breasts against his chest.
Jena ran her hands into his hair and wrapped one leg around his hip just as a crash sounded in the kitchen.
Nicholas froze, startled, when a male voice squawked. “Sorry, Jen,” Luke yelled, his voice filled with laughter. “Travis let me use his bed. I’ll leave the pancakes in the oven while I shower. Carry on, people.”
Nicholas rolled away from Jena and off the bed, yanking on his jeans and pulling on his shirt. “Get dressed.”
She sat up, tugging the sheet with her and looking confused. “But…I thought…”
Leaning over, Nicholas held her chin and kissed her roughly. “Oh, I have every intention of kissing every inch of you this morning. Just not with an audience.” He grimaced. “Conor owes me a few hundred disappearing acts, and we have a few hours until my parents are due back from their trip. If you want to come with me, of course.”
Jena grinned and slid off the side of the bed, grabbing a pair of sweats from the chair in the corner and quickly adding a bra and a T-shirt from her drawer.
Nicholas snapped his phone open, dialing Conor’s cell as Jena sat down to slip on some shoes. He cut Conor off mid-greeting. “Conor, I need you to vacate the premises for the day, and I don’t want any arguments. Go destroy the latest boink’s apartment, or some public venue.”
“Yeah, but Nicholas—”
Nick cut him off again. “I’ve done this for you a hundred times. All I ask is a few hours of peace. It’s the least you can do after abandoning me without transportation last night.”
“I’m sure you got a ride…or two.” Conor chortled at his own humor.
“Conor, get the fuck out before Jena and I get there.”
“Nicky, you should really—”
Jena was watching with questioning eyes as Nicholas muttered into the phone. “Conor, I swear to God—”
“Shit! You win! Bring your sweetie here right away.” Conor sounded like he was restraining laughter as he hung up.
Jena twined her fingers with Nick’s as they walked to her Jeep. They kept casting sideways glances at each other during the drive to his apartment, then looking away to chuckle. By the time the Jeep was parked in the garage of Nicholas’s apartment, he couldn’t wait any longer to touch her, pressing her against the side of the car and running his hands over her body.
“Jesus, get a room, people.” Conor laughed as he passed them to climb into his truck. He looked quite snazzy for a lazy Sunday morning. “Oh, wait—you have a room upstairs, in the apartment you kicked me out of.” He fired the ignition.
“Where you going, all dressed up? I might have a coronary if you say church.” Nick said, half-jokingly.
“Brunch with Sam.” Conor shrugged at Nick’s raised eyebrow. “She’s in town and didn’t want to brave the parentals alone.” He grinned and added cryptically, “Besides, I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Have fun.” His laughter disappeared as the truck pulled away.
“C’mere, woman,” Nicholas rumbled, tugging Jena through the garage door, and pulling her up the stairs. They were laughing against each other’s lips as Nick finally fumbled his apartment door open. “Bedroom. Now,” he growled, backing into the apartment, hands cupping Jena’s behind.
Nicholas stumbled to a stop when he heard someone clear their throat behind him.
“Good morning, son. I assume it’s good, anyway.” Jena froze as Nicholas let her slide down his front before turning to look at his father
, who was trying to marshal his expression into any shape but the grin that was overtaking his face. “Your mother is in the powder room, so I suggest you compose yourself before she gets out here.” He cast a pointed glance at Nick’s jeans, and Jena put a hand over her eyes.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, and headed for the door.
Chapter Twelve
BLINDLY STUMBLING TOWARD THE STAIRWELL, Jena made it almost all the way down the first flight before she heard Nicholas calling behind her.
“Jena! Wait!”
“I’ll call you later, Nicholas,” she tossed over her shoulder, increasing her speed. Second flight—one to go and she would be in her car driving somewhere. Anywhere.
She started to giggle as she swiped a tear from the corner of her eye. This had been the most confusing twelve-hour rollercoaster ride of her life, and she could feel hysteria just around the corner. Between the boring beginning that was Leisa’s party and the jerking full stop of dry-humping in front of Nicholas’s father, Jena had been yanked up and dropped down emotionally, and enjoyed the full loop-the-loop that was being with Nicholas last night, and she was finished. The only thing left to do was barf, and the full carnival experience would be complete.
“Damn it, Jena…will you just stop for a minute?” Nicholas’s voice was echoing down the stairs, and Jena could hear his rapid footsteps, but she was going to make it to her car before he caught up. She hoped that between Nicholas having to deal with his parents at least briefly before dashing out the door and having the running impediment in his jeans, she could make a clean getaway. The next part of her plan was not as clear, but it involved lots of alcohol.
She reached the door leading to the garage and looked back, glad that Nick hadn’t appeared yet. As she dashed through the doorway, it felt like she slammed into a brick wall. Strong hands grasped her upper arms as she staggered backward.
“For someone who was in such a damned hurry to get upstairs, you sure are leaving fast.” Conor’s bass chuckle echoed in the empty stairwell. “I always suspected Dickolas was a sixty-second man.”
“Conor, shut the hell up.” Samantha came around Conor and wrapped her arm around Jena’s shoulders. “Are you all right?”
Jena looked up at Conor’s grinning face and saw red. “You stupid bastard,” she sputtered. Before she knew she was going to do it, her fist shot out and caught him in the right eye.
A string of expletives flew from Conor’s mouth as he slapped a hand over the offended eye. Jena stepped back warily, cradling her fist, and suddenly remembering Conor was about a foot and a half taller than her and outweighed her by at least fifty pounds.
Conor stomped his foot a couple of times, then finally looked at Jena with a watering and rapidly purpling eye. “I’m sorry, okay? It seemed funny at the time, that’s all.” He touched his fingers lightly at the corner of his eye and hissed through his teeth. “You didn’t have to hit me. Christ, you women are violent,” he muttered.
Jena nodded and opened her mouth to answer just as Nicholas leapt down the last few stairs. Spotting Conor, Nick stepped toward him, muttering threats. Samantha stepped smoothly between them.
“A suitable ass-kicking has already been administered, Nicholas, by sweet Jena, here.” Sam smiled as Nick looked from Jena to Conor in astonishment.
“Nicholas? Is everything all right?” A woman’s anxious voice floated down the stairs.
Nicholas and Conor glared at each other. “On our way up, Mom,” Nick called.
Jena felt his hand on her back, and she paused to lean into it briefly. She closed her eyes, steeling herself. It’s okay, Jena, she pep talked. You are twenty-five, not fifteen, and it’s okay to be in your boyfriend’s apartment. It will never get any easier so you might as well balls it out. Taking a deep breath, Jena looped her arm through Sam’s and continued up the stairs, trying to justify groping said boyfriend in front of his father, but her powers of rationalization couldn’t quite stretch that far.
An anxious-looking woman in a beautifully tailored, soft gray suit met them at the door. Even if Jena weren’t meeting her in Nicholas’s apartment, she would have known that the woman was his mother. Deep black hair was swept back with a simple hair band, and twins of the almond-shaped, long-lashed, deep blue eyes that had looked up at Jena this morning were set in the woman’s face. The feminine version of Nicholas’s lips curved into a smile as his mother put an arm around Nicholas’s waist, holding up her cheek to be kissed.
Glancing around at the group as her son obliged, her eyes stopped on Conor. “My word, Conor. What in the world happened to your eye?”
Conor grinned, turning on the full charm. “That is a very long and boring story, Mrs. Cooper. If you’ll excuse me for a moment…” Conor patted her on the back as he brushed past her to go toward the hall, and she giggled. Nicholas rolled his eyes.
“Mom…Dad…You’ve met Samantha Call, I believe.” All three nodded, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. Nicholas pulled Jena out from behind Sam, where Jena was, admittedly, hiding and wrapped his arm around her. “This is Jena Baker, Mom. Jena, these are my parents, William and Laura Cooper.”
Mrs. Cooper stepped forward with a smile and an outstretched hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you, finally, Jena. Nicholas has told me so much about you.” Jena shook her hand then looked over her shoulder at Nicholas, who smiled and shrugged.
Dr. Cooper shook Jena’s hand next. It was clear where Nicholas had gotten his high cheekbones and defined jaw line, but Dr. Cooper’s eyes were ice blue and the blond of his hair blended almost perfectly with the white that crept along his temples. He turned to Nicholas. “I apologize for showing up unexpectedly, son.” His eyes flicked to Jena with silent humor, and she willed herself not to blush. Nicholas’s arm tightened around her waist, anticipating a repeat of her earlier dash out the door. “Mrs. Call tired of touring and wanted to come home early.” Jena heard Samantha snort behind her. “The Calls have invited us to brunch at their club, and we thought you might join us. Jena is invited, as well, of course.”
Mentally comparing her sweats-and-tee combo to the nice outfits the others wore, Jena smiled. “I’m really not dressed approp—” Her phone chimed, and a quick glance at the caller ID made her groan internally. “This is my mother. Please excuse me.”
Stepping away from the group in the living room, Jena gingerly opened her phone, knowing what she was facing. Sharon did not disappoint. Jena had to hold the phone away from her head to protect her ears from Sharon’s extremely loud and off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday.” Knowing better than to try to interrupt her mother, Jena hurried into the kitchen as everyone turned to look at her and her noisy-ass phone.
“Happy birthday, my angel,” Sharon gushed. “I can’t believe my baby is a quarter of a century old. It seems like just yesterday that you were a beautiful little girl in your daddy’s arms. I remember—”
Jena interrupted her mother’s soliloquy; she’d heard almost the exact same words every birthday for as long as she could remember. “Mom, can I call you back later? I was talking to Dr. Cooper—crap.” Jena whapped herself in the head for mentioning a name. Her mother would have it Googled two minutes after hanging up.
Sharon was shocked at the interruption; she’d never been stopped in her walk down memory lane before. “Is everything okay, Jena? Are you all right? Why are you talking to a doctor?” Her voice was rising.
Trust Mom to jump from blissful happiness to abject fear for her daughter’s safety in the space of a sentence.
Jena shushed her. “Mom, I’m okay. I’m just meeting Nicholas’s parents, all right?” She knocked her head repeatedly on the fridge, cursing the fact that Sharon now had a full name to work with.
Sharon shrieked so loudly Jena almost dropped the phone. Nicholas poked his head in the kitchen with a questioning look, and Jena waved him off. He leaned against the counter, smiling and shaking his head, and Jena knew he could hear everything.
“Rob! His name i
s Nicholas, and his father is a doctor!”
Jena heard her dad chuckle in the background and call out, “What’s his golf handicap?”
“Oh hush, Rob,” Jena’s mother scolded. “Jena, tell me everything. Is he cute? How did you meet him? Is this the phone-sex guy?”
Nicholas burst into quiet laughter, and Jena turned her back on him. “Mom! I’ll call you later, okay? I’m being very rude right now.”
“Oh, of course, sweetie.” Jena heard the clacking of a keyboard. Shit, her mother wasn’t even going to wait until the call was over. “Have fun and call me later.” She abruptly hung up, and Jena snapped her phone closed, still looking out the kitchen window.
Nicholas wrapped his arms around her, snuggling her body within the curve of his own, and kissed her neck. “So, am I the ‘phone-sex guy’?” he asked.
Jena laughed and relaxed against him. “That is a long and humiliating story that I hope to never think about again. And, yes, you are the ‘phone-sex guy.’”
“Son?” Dr. Cooper’s voice was amused, and Jena knew he’d caught at least the end of her comment. Of course. “We’re supposed to meet the Calls in half an hour.”
Jena turned to him with a genuine smile. Apparently, her embarrassment threshold was reached and now she could relax. How much worse could it get? “Well, then, I guess your son had better get a move on,” Jena said, reaching up to kiss Nicholas on the cheek. “I’m sorry about the call. My mother is a little enthusiastic about birthdays. Call me later, okay?”
“It’s your birthday, Jena? You really must come with us, then. No one should be alone on their birthday.” Mrs. Cooper had entered the kitchen and slid her hand around her husband’s arm, giving him a look of encouragement and flicking her eyes toward Jena when he looked down at her.
Cocktails & Dreams Page 15
