Spice

by Seressia Glass

  He lightly grasped her fingers, his licorice-dark eyes glinting with appreciation and mischief as he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “‘The languishing eye puts in connection soul with soul, and the tender kiss takes the message from member to vulva.’”

  Poetry and descriptions that she’d laughed over in college provoked a different response when Kane spoke them. Her blood heated, her sex growing damp and heavy with the need to be filled.

  “You win.” She forgot about her erstwhile suitor as the heat in Kane’s dark gaze captivated her, lured her in.

  “I always try to.” He passed several bills to the bartender, then settled his hand on her back, his fingers lightly tracing her corset lacing. “Especially when the prize is as worth it as you are.”

  Nadia sighed, fighting to keep her eyes from sliding closed as Kane’s fingers worked their magic on her bare skin. Some people were pure swagger and false bravado with nothing to back it up. There was nothing fake about Kane. His natural assurance was sexy because he knew who he was, what he wanted, and what he was capable of. “Have you been here the entire time?”

  “Not long.” He tugged on her laces, and she swallowed a moan. “What are you thinking, Nadia?”

  “That you’re dangerous.”

  He leaned closer, his lips brushing her cheek. “You think you aren’t?” His hand tightened on her laces again. “Especially wearing this?”

  His hold and his voice caused a slow roll of lust low in her belly. “I hope you like what you see.”

  “Like doesn’t come close to describing what I think about you in this corset.” His index finger stroked her spine. “How long is the performance tonight?”

  “N-ninety minutes.”

  “Ninety minutes to be on our best behavior. I don’t know whether to weep or applaud. This is definitely going to be a test.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll see soon enough.” He gathered half her drinks. “Let’s go join your friends.”

  Nadia led the way back to their group, only to discover that all but one of the chairs had been filled. “Thanks for savings us seats, guys.”

  Audie gave her an apologetic smile as she gestured to the guy occupying one of the seats. “I hope you don’t mind. Jack—”

  “Jace,” the stranger corrected, his gaze fixed on Audie’s ample cleavage.

  “—Jace is here alone, so I said he could sit with us.”

  “We’re short a seat,” Nadia pointed out. When it came to bagging guys Audie operated with single-minded focus, damn the consequences, and sometimes, her friends.

  Kane solved the problem by putting down the drinks, sliding into the chair, and patting his lap. “Sit here.”

  Nadia hesitated. She knew how the night would go. Audie wouldn’t last half the performance before making out with the new guy, if she didn’t disappear with him outright. What could Nadia say though, without looking like a bitch?

  Truthfully, Nadia wasn’t sure she could survive an hour and a half sitting on Kane’s lap. She’d been on a low simmer for the last forty-eight hours and she desperately needed relief. She didn’t know if Audie’s need for sex was mental more than physical, but if the redhead felt anything close to what Nadia had endured for the last two days, Nadia could almost understand why Audie was continually on the hunt.

  Kane curled his fingers into the lacing across her back, snagging her attention. She saw the command in his expression but also concern and silent support. She immediately relaxed. She was there to have fun with her friends and watch Siobhan perform. Audie was grown and her choices were her own. She didn’t need Nadia to play babysitter.

  Nadia sank onto Kane’s lap. Her short skirt and thong provided zero coverage, her bare buttocks sliding across the smooth fabric of his pants as she settled into place. His erection pressed against the back of her thighs, the heat of him branding her through the fabric.

  She darted a glance at him. “A test for both of us, as I said.” The velvet of his voice slid over her senses, pebbling her skin. “Ninety minutes until el keurchi. Now introduce me to your friends.”

  She belatedly made introductions, heat staining her cheeks as she noted the knowing glances from her extended circle of friends. With another fifteen minutes until show time, Nadia expected Kane to be bombarded with questions. He was, but he handled it well, engaging Vanessa in college talk and asking Jas about his cupcake-decorating technique, posing for photos. All the while, he would take sips of his icy drink, then trace his chilled fingertips over her spine, keeping her desire on a slow simmer. But if she thought that would be the extent of her torture, she was mistaken.

  When the house lights dimmed and the mistress of ceremonies took the stage, Kane shifted his left hand. Nadia held her breath, tension filling her as she tracked his movement from her knee to her thigh, then to the hem of her skirt. He wouldn’t, would he?

  The first act took the stage, a ribald flasher skit that got the crowd roaring with laughter. Kane’s hand slipped under her skirt and between her thighs. Nadia froze, biting her lip against a gasp of pleasure as his forefinger unerringly found her clit.

  “Kane?”

  He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I said you couldn’t self-gratify,” he said, his voice for her alone. “I never said I wouldn’t pleasure you. Open your legs.”

  She couldn’t. She shouldn’t, not with her friends here, not with the crowd, the performers. But . . . it was dark enough, the table tall enough, her friends distracted enough.

  Kane pinched the inside of her thigh. Nadia jumped, unable to hold back a squee of surprise. “Are you all right, Nadia?” Vanessa asked from the opposite side of the table.

  “Y-yes,” she answered, shifting to the position Kane demanded. “I just got hit with a draft of cold air.”

  Vanessa smiled. “Kane needs to do a better job of keeping you warm.”

  “I’ll try harder, ma’am,” the man in question said, his expert fingers finding their way beneath the flimsy barrier of the thong. He brushed his lips against her shoulder again. “If you want me to stop, you know what you have to say.”

  Her safe word, or rather, her safe phrase. If she said sticky buns, Kane would stop. She didn’t want him to. Maybe she was too aroused, more bent than she realized, but the thought of this man stroking her to a climax in the middle of the club made her body tighten with anticipation. She wanted this. She wanted him.

  She held back the words, twisting enough to kiss him instead. He took the opportunity to push his forefinger into her slick channel, his mouth devouring her moan of pleasure. “You’re beautifully wet for me, sweetheart,” he whispered with approval. “I think you like this more than you care to admit.”

  “I can admit it,” she managed to say. “To you. I can also admit I like what you do to me.”

  “I’ll be sure to keep up the good work. Oh, and Nadia?”

  “Yes?”

  “You still don’t have permission to come.”

  The other performances passed in a blur as Kane stroked her to the edge repeatedly, only to bring her back down. It was ninety minutes of the most exquisite torture she’d ever experienced. She hadn’t known her body was capable of holding out for so long. By the time the emcee announced Siobhan, Nadia was ready to explode.

  The track for “When You’re Good to Mama” from the musical Chicago rolled through the sound system. A spotlight appeared on the curtain, which parted to reveal Siobhan dressed as a very sexy prison guard with a crop instead of a police baton. The crowd, full of regulars, applauded as she strutted the stage, belting out the song in a clear, strong alto as she peeled off layers of the uniform. As the song reached its crescendo, Sugar took off the last piece to reveal bright pink glitter pasties and a black thong, the standard reveal for Club Tatas.

  Nadia leapt to her feet, clapping and cheering as Sugar blew kisses
while leaving the stage. She turned to Kane. “Isn’t she fantastic?”

  “She is.” He snagged her around the waist, dragged her back down to his lap. “She’s got a beautiful voice.”

  “Right.” She snorted in disbelief. When she and Siobhan were side by side, Nadia knew everyone’s eyes weren’t on her. Compared to Siobhan’s voluptuousness, Nadia was virtually flat-chested. It wasn’t something she envied about her partner; it was a fact of life. For Kane to be so ambivalent about Siobhan’s striptease when every other hetero male had his tongue dragging on the ground was suspect. “Is that the only thing you noticed?”

  He pierced her with a glance. “I was finger-deep in a hot woman’s pussy. Forgive me for being distracted.”

  “Ah . . . oh.” His blunt response took the wind right out of her sails. “Well. Okay then. I’m sorry.”

  The harshness left his features. “You’ll make it up to me.” He glanced at his watch. “In fifteen minutes.”

  It was the longest fifteen minutes of her life. The emcee closed out the show and the house lights rose. Nadia noticed the empty chairs beside them. “Looks like Audie bailed,” she said to no one in particular, unable to squelch the pang of regret.

  “That’s Audie being Audie,” Vanessa said, rising to her feet. “I’m going to bail too. That’s me being me, tired after a long day of work. Kane, you don’t mind taking Nadia home, do you?”

  “Of course not.” His hand was warm on her back as he guided her to her feet. “It was nice to officially meet you.”

  “You too, Professor.”

  “Hey, do you guys want to come dancing with us at Down Below?” Tracy asked.

  “I’ve got the breakfast shift tomorrow,” Nadia answered, not wanting to give her assistant and his girlfriend the brush-off, but not in the mood for Club Tatas’ basement dance club. “Next time for sure.”

  “Do you need to say good-bye to Siobhan before we leave?” Kane asked.

  “She’s usually in high demand after the show, taking pictures and signing autographs. She’s got a serious local fan club. I’ll just send her a text and tell her that I’m headed home.”

  “Do it. I’ve got ten minutes to get you out of here.”

  She pulled her phone out of her tiny crossbody purse then sent the text. That done, Kane led her out of the club and across the street to the premium parking deck. “How much longer?” she asked as they made their way to his car.

  “Seven minutes.” He handed her inside.

  She waited until he joined her, then said, “I’d better get my apology out of the way.”

  Before he could stop her, she reached over, unzipped his pants, then reached her hand inside to find him still hard. She stroked him, pushing the foreskin back, then leaned over and did what she’d fantasized about for the past two days: took him into her mouth.

  “Christ, Nadia!” His hips surged up, the head of his cock bumping the back of her throat as his hand tangled into her hair.

  She came up for air. “Hold on. I’m still apologizing.”

  He started the car as she continued her delectable exploration, discovering the feel of him in her mouth, learning his taste as he drove. The sounds of his harsh breathing filled the car, giving her a thrill of pleasure.

  “You like pushing me, don’t you?” he ground out. “Almost as much as I like pushing you.”

  She hummed in agreement, running her tongue along his length before swirling around the head again. She liked knowing she could drive him to lose control, to push him to the same edge she balanced on, a heartbeat from letting go. Moisture had soaked through her panties long ago and she shimmied out of them, needing something, anything to ease the need that hadn’t let her go from the moment she’d seen Kane in the club.

  “Dammit.” Kane pulled her free as he jerked the car to a stop, slammed it into park, then killed the engine. “Come on.”

  She got out of the car without waiting for Kane’s assistance, ready to run for the elevator. She took a step then stopped as soon as she noticed the unfamiliar surroundings. “This isn’t my place.”

  “I know. We’re still in the parking deck.” He draped a jacket over her shoulders then tugged her into the shadows around the corner from a stairwell, pressing her back against the wall.

  Nadia gasped as she realized his intent. “Right here?”

  “You dare to blow me in the car but balk at doing el keurchi here?” Reaching beneath her skirt, he easily thrust two fingers inside her, readying her even more. “Be daring, Nadia. Want me as much as I want you.”

  Be daring. She’d told him that’s what she wanted. She had to live up to her own expectations, her own wants. At that moment, she wanted him inside her more than she wanted her next breath.

  Uncertainty vanished as she reached for him, wrapping her hand around his thickness. He hadn’t bothered tucking himself back into his pants, a sure indication that she’d pushed him to his limit. He grunted in approval as she guided his cock to her entrance, rubbing the tip along her slit to coat him in her juices and tease them both.

  “Nadia . . .” Kane’s voice was a low growl of warning. He threw his hips forward, surging through her fingers, embedding himself inside her.

  “Hands on my hips, sweetheart,” he ordered as he shifted his weight, his hands gripping her ass beneath her skirt. “El keurchi. Belly to belly, face to face, lips to lips. Squeeze me, babe. Squeeze me with that sweet pussy of yours.”

  Her inner muscles clamped down on him as he rocked forward. Fire erupted in her veins as desire steamrolled her. The man, the intensity, the risk of discovery all combined into a heady aphrodisiac. They moved together, a frantic, jerky dance of need that led to only one outcome.

  Much too soon she could feel it, feel the orgasm rushing up from her toes. “Kane,” she gasped, then shattered.

  His mouth slammed down on hers, swallowing her cry as she came. His fingers dug deep into her buttocks, each wild thrust bumping her shoulders against the concrete wall. With a hoarse groan he buried himself to the hilt, spasms shaking his body as he poured deep inside her.

  After a long moment, he pulled away from her. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m better than all right.” She reached out, cupped his cheek. “Are you?”

  “I forgot a condom.” He tucked himself in, straightened his clothes. “I forgot a fucking condom.”

  “We saw each other’s records,” she reminded him. “We’re both clean, and I get birth control injections. We’re good.”

  “Yeah. We’re good together.” He blew out a breath, then guided her back to the car. “You have an uncanny ability to make me lose multiple levels of control, Nadia Spiceland.”

  She forced a laugh. “You make it sound as if that’s a bad thing.”

  “I don’t know.” He started the car. “Right now, I’m too damn satisfied to care.”

  TEN

  “Dads!”

  Surprised but pleased, Nadia stepped back to allow both her fathers to step over the threshold. Victor Spiceland immediately grabbed her up in one of his huge bear hugs, spinning her around until she was dizzy and giggling. “I can’t believe you guys are here. You weren’t due to come down for a visit until next month!”

  “We had some free time,” Nicholas Spiceland explained as he took his turn for a hug, dropping a kiss to her forehead.

  “We were in the neighborhood,” Victor answered at the same time.

  Nadia took a step back, settling her hands on her hips. “Just in the neighborhood with time on your hands, huh? I may be a baker and not an engineer, but I do know that San Francisco is a hundred miles away and therefore not in the neighborhood.”

  “What, we can’t come visit our favorite daughter?” Victor asked, maple brown eyes twinkling.

  “I’m your only daughter,” she reminded him, torn between exasperation, affection, and a
musement. “What’s up?”

  “We weren’t able to be here for your birthday,” Nicholas explained in his quiet tone that had always managed to soothe her and keep her in line. He shed his coat, then took Victor’s as Nadia closed and locked the door. “So we rearranged some things and started the family tour early.”

  She watched him hang their coats in the coat closet, her heart brimming. Her dads—actually, the entire Spiceland family—were her collective rock. They had walked the rocky road of recovery with her, from the moment she’d regained consciousness in the hospital after the accident to the day she’d left the rehabilitation facility somewhat better equipped to take control of her life and her choices. They’d helped her find a Narcotics Anonymous group that suited her and attended counseling sessions with her.

  As thrilled as they’d been when she decided to leave Los Angeles after she left rehab and started her recovery, they’d been worried about her decision to start over somewhere new instead of returning home to San Francisco. It had taken them more than a year to accept her move to Crimson Bay, but they’d finally realized the small town had done wonders for her and Siobhan. The fact that they were less than two hours away by car helped. What helped more was each day she lived without popping pills, each day that took her further away from the person she had been, a person on a steep trajectory to self-destruction. She was in a good place now, and they knew it.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” she said, giving him another hug as they made their way toward the kitchen, as everyone who visited her did. “We talked on the phone.”

  “He worries,” Daddy Vic said, giving his spouse’s shoulder an affectionate pat. They’d been together since their college days, and though she’d rolled her eyes at their public displays of affection as a kid, she loved and admired their easy way with each other. “He had to see for himself.”

  “I worry,” Nicholas agreed. “Vic frets. He wouldn’t relax until we were on the highway headed here.”

  Nadia stared at the two men she loved most in the world. Nicholas Spiceland had always been the quieter of her dads, as tall and silent as a redwood and just as permanently there with his unwavering support. His sternness and strict nature were a perfect foil for Victor, who was a head shorter but broader in the shoulders and had always worn his emotions on his sleeve. To Nadia, Victor was a walking, talking teddy bear, always ready to dispense a hug or a word of encouragement to his children.