Spice

by Seressia Glass

  The new collaboration with Simon Mayhew gave him the positive energy he needed to get through the next day of meetings. So did the promise of Nadia waiting for him at home.

  Sweet yearning filled him, just from thinking of her. She was important to him, more important than he could let her know as of yet. Despite nearly two months of intimacy, he could sense that she didn’t fully trust him. She trusted him with her body, but despite agreeing to give a relationship a try, she wasn’t ready to trust him with her emotions yet, with her hopes and fears. She was still skittish and he understood that. She probably had good reason to be cautious, given the fallout from her drug addiction past.

  Still, he wanted her to know that he wanted more than reenactments of The Perfumed Garden, the Kama Sutra, and the other sex manuals. He hoped he’d shown that, by supporting her as she’d dealt with Audie. He needed her to know, in gestures grand and small, that he was in to her for far longer than it would take them to complete the book. By the time she realized it, he would be a necessary part of her life.

  His phone buzzed. Expecting it to be Simon asking for their notes, he was surprised to find a message from Nadia. She’d snapped a photo of herself lying on her side in her bed, a piece of paper with his name written on it balanced on the pillow beside her. Missing you, the accompanying text said.

  He was already calling her before the action registered, hoping that it wasn’t a delayed text, that she was still awake.

  She answered immediately. “Kaname.”

  He slid down in the bed, laptop forgotten, work a distant memory as the sound of her voice saying his name wrapped around him. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s late and I didn’t want to wake you up. I know how early you have to get up to open the café.”

  “Jas is going to take care of it,” she answered, her voice soft. “And I took a nap earlier this afternoon so that I could be awake for you tonight.”

  Warmth that had nothing to do with the two shots of whiskey he’d consumed earlier spread through his chest. “Thank you,” he managed to say past the sudden lump in his throat. He coughed to clear it. “And thanks for the picture.”

  “You know you’re welcome.” A rustling sound as if she’d turned over in bed. “I do miss you, Kane.”

  “Will you do me a favor, Nadia?”

  “Sure. What do you need?”

  You. “Whenever you can remember to do it, I’d love it if you would call me Kaname.”

  “Oh. Of course I can do that.” She gave a light laugh that rippled through him. “It’s weird how sometimes it feels right to call you Kane, and other times it feels right to call you Kaname.”

  “I know.” He’d noticed. When she felt comfortable and secure in their intimate moments, she lowered her guard and called him by his full name. When she did, she paired it with a sexy, breathy tone that never failed to harden his cock. As it did now.

  He reached into his boxers to adjust himself, thought better of it, then took himself in hand instead. That felt much better, though not as good as it would be if it were her hand gripping him.

  “How was your day? You don’t sound right.”

  He didn’t want to talk about his day, especially not the part spent examining photos and talking motives and psychological impacts. The fact that she could tell that he’d been bothered by the case told him she was more tuned to him than he’d hoped. “I’ll be all right. The day was longer than I would have liked, but hearing from you is a definite improvement.”

  “I’m glad I could help make it better. You sure you don’t want to unload on me? I’ve learned to be a pretty good listener, and I don’t judge.”

  “I appreciate the offer, babe, but I’ll be okay. I did take some time this evening to meet with a friend of mine, Simon Mayhew.”

  “Oh yeah. He cowrote some books with you, didn’t he?”

  “He did,” Kane answered, ridiculously pleased that she knew that. “We’re talking about diving into fiction, writing a thriller series together.” He gave her the highlight reel of his brainstorming session with Simon.

  “That’s a great idea! And it sounds like you’re really excited about it.”

  “I am. We’re still in the preliminary stages, but Simon’s just as into it as I am. I’m going to try to arrange things so I can get back down here soon for a proper planning meeting.”

  “Good.” She paused, and when she spoke again her voice was barely a whisper. “Maybe I can go with you next time.”

  The offer wasn’t made lightly, Kane knew. Nadia had put LA in her rearview and hadn’t looked back. The import of her making the offer now, to return with him, wasn’t lost on him. “I’d like that.”

  He heard her blow out a breath, as if clearing out the emotional weight of her statement. “When do you think you’re going to be home?”

  “It depends on how late the meetings run tomorrow,” he told her. “If I can, I’ll be on the last flight out. But it will more than likely be Saturday morning.”

  “If you can come home tomorrow night, you need to come by and get me,” she ordered.

  He hesitated, torn between wanting to do exactly that, and needing time to clear the remnants of the consult from his mind before seeing her. “It’ll be late, and I’ll probably be in a shitty mood.”

  “Which is exactly why you should come get me, or just come here and stay the night, then we’ll go to your place Saturday morning. I mean it, Kaname. Even if it’s just sleeping, we need to be in bed together tomorrow night.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment. She had no idea what she did to him, how deeply she had burrowed beneath his skin. “Are you sure I wouldn’t be interrupting another thrilling Girls Night Out?”

  “It’s a Girls Night In, and no, you won’t be interrupting,” she answered. “Siobhan’s going to come over. We’re going to talk a little business then drink a little, eat a lot, and ogle some superhero movie man-candy. By the way, she very graciously gave me permission to kick her to the curb and head out immediately if you come home tomorrow night.”

  “Well, if Siobhan gives her blessing . . .”

  “That’s right, mister,” she teased. “So you’d better come get me.”

  “As my lady desires.”

  “Speaking of which, there is something else I desire.”

  “Oh?” He settled back into the pillows. “What’s that?”

  Huskiness threaded through her voice. “I desire . . . to know what you’re wearing.”

  He smiled at the teasing note in her voice. “A sheet.”

  “Only the sheet?”

  “The sheet and blanket,” he clarified. “And my boxers.”

  “Are you hard, Kaname?”

  The soft question made him instantly, undeniably hard. “I am now.”

  “Good,” she purred. “Push the bedclothes down.”

  Intrigued, he did as she demanded, kicking the covers aside. “Okay.”

  “What color are your boxers?” she wanted to know.

  “Red.”

  “Nice.” He heard her take a deep breath. “I’m imagining you lying there in your boxers,” she whispered. “Imagining you sliding your hand down your chest then beneath your waistband, gripping your waiting cock. Can you do that for me?”

  “Done,” he said, adding a hiss of pleasure as he firmed his grip on his shaft.

  “Stroke it,” she breathed. “Stroke it like I’m stroking myself right now.”

  “You are?” His breath caught as he fell under the spell her words wove.

  “Yes,” she confessed. “It’s why I called you, so we can give each other permission to come.”

  “What do you think of to get worked up?”

  “We’re in bed together,” she said softly. “I’ve got my back against the headboard, and you’re sitting up near the end of the bed. You have you
r cock in your hand and I’ve got my fingers on my clit. We’re matching each other stroke for stroke.”

  She released a sigh ripe with unfulfilled desire. “I think watching each other stroke off would be extremely hot.”

  “God, Nadia!” He had to pinch off to suppress the urge to come. They should have had phone sex long before now. “What other fantasies do you have?”

  “I’m on my back on the bed, looking up at you,” she said after a moment, her words breathy. “I love watching your face. I love how the pleasure takes you over. Your eyes light up with an inner fire, and your lips part when you’re close to coming. You’re watching me touch my breasts and stroke myself while you’re slowly and deeply taking my ass.”

  “Fuck.” His hips were moving now, lifting off the bed, pushing his cock through his fist, making him wish it were Nadia’s tight sheath gripping him. “You want that?” he ground out. “You want me to take you like that?”

  “I want to try,” she admitted breathlessly. “A cock is different than a finger.”

  “Damn, Nadia—you’ve got me on the edge of coming!”

  “I am too. I’m wishing that your cock was inside me, stroking so deep and fast when we’re right there, right at the moment, and then you fill me up—”

  She broke off with the signature moan that let him know she was coming. A few more rapid strokes and he joined her, spurting into his boxers like a horny teen, her name a deep groan on his lips.

  A long while later he heard her voice calling him from far away. “Kaname?”

  He fumbled for his phone, lifted it back to his ear. “Do you realize how incredibly sexy you are?”

  Her laughter, rich and a little shaky, filled his ear. “So are you, Professor. I wanted to provide enough incentive to make sure you come over as soon as you get back.”

  He got up to head to the bathroom to clean up. “If I have to rent a car and drive, I’m coming for you tomorrow night.”

  “Excellent.” She yawned. “Then my job here is done. I’m going to sleep well tonight, that’s for sure. Sweet dreams, Kaname.”

  “They will be now. Good night, Nadia.”

  He put down the phone then braced himself against the sink, his mind unable to focus on anything other than Nadia. She was exactly what he’d needed, exactly when he’d needed it. Her laughter, her smile, her sweet body shredded every bit of stress, every clump of darkness. Being with her for the last few weeks had caused a fundamental shift in his universe, a change in direction from where he thought he needed to be to where he wanted to be.

  Finally, he mustered enough energy to clean up, pull on fresh underwear, then fall back into bed. With his heartbeat back to normal and sleep embracing him, a simple truth came to him: Nadia Spiceland was quickly becoming the most important thing in his life.

  NINETEEN

  “You need to start dating.”

  Nadia placed a tray with dessert and two steeping teapots—one of chrysanthemum tea for Siobhan, and a Sencha green for herself—on the coffee table. The remnants of their margherita pizza had been put away, and the second superhero movie rumbled away in the background.

  “I’m not taking your bait,” Siobhan said evenly, snagging a plate of double-dutch chocolate pie from the tray. “One would think you’d be bored by now and stop trying.”

  “I’m not trying to bait you. Much,” Nadia replied, settling in on the other end of the couch. “I refuse to believe you don’t have any prospects, not with the fan club your alter ego has.”

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Siobhan laughed. “That’s so not going to happen.”

  “Yes, it is.” Nadia poured a serving of her tea, added a dollop of honey. “We just need to narrow the list to the best candidates for the job. What possible reason could you have to not want to have some sexy-times of your own? And if the word age comes out of your mouth, I’m taking your dessert.”

  Siobhan directed a scowl her way. “You’re a right beyotch when you’re getting it on the regular, you know.”

  Nadia laughed, ignoring Siobhan’s sour tone. “Which is why you need to jump on one of your fanboys like yesterday.” She took a sip of her tea, then added another measure of honey. Kane would probably flip over the way she was destroying the flavor of a good Japanese tea, and she smiled to herself at the thought.

  “Why are you smiling at my misery?” Siobhan demanded, her scowl deepening.

  “Eat your chocolate, and I’ll tell you.” She waited until her partner took the first mouthful of the double-dutch chocolate pie which had nothing Dutch in it. “Your misery is self-inflicted. Why would you deny yourself the opportunity to have a basic human need met?”

  “You know why.” Siobhan returned her half-eaten dessert to the coffee table.

  “Colleen.” Nadia sat back with a sigh. Siobhan’s daughter was the epitome of a difficult child, wrapped in an eighteen-year-old’s body. Colleen only showed up when she wanted something from her mother, preying on Siobhan’s guilt and dangling the carrot of reconciliation. Then she’d fly into a rage over some perceived slight and stomp off again, leaving Nadia to patch Siobhan’s heart back together afterwards.

  In fact, the only time she and Siobhan had come close to a knock-down, drag-out fight was a year ago when Siobhan had wanted to hire Colleen to work in the café for the summer. Nadia had seen the trouble brewing in Colleen’s eyes and had refused. Her refusal hadn’t gone over well. Siobhan had overridden her, and when Jas had caught Colleen stealing from the register, Colleen had blamed Siobhan, Nadia had blown up, and their partnership had teetered on the edge of dissolution.

  “Siobhan,” Nadia said slowly, choosing her words with care. “Are you saying that you don’t even want to try dating because things are still unsettled with Colleen?”

  Siobhan’s shoulders stiffened. “There’s always a chance things will work out with her.”

  “I know. I certainly hope so.” Nadia injected every bit of sincerity she could into her words. “I want you to come to some sort of resolution with your daughter, if only so you can move forward.”

  “I am moving forward,” Siobhan insisted. “Every day I’m not reaching for a bottle of pills is a move forward.”

  “Siobhan.” Nadia stopped, her throat closing off with the threat of tears. “You can’t put your life on hold waiting for Colleen to straighten out hers.”

  “I know that!”

  “Do you?” she pressed. “You think being by yourself is your way of doing penance for leaving your daughter and husband because of drugs. When are you going to stop punishing yourself, Siobhan? When are you going to realize that you have to live life now?”

  “I am living my life now.” Tension squeezed every bit of inflection from Siobhan’s voice. “I have the café. I have my burlesque shows. And I have my friends who seem to relish giving me a hard time.”

  “Bitch Talk doesn’t only happen on Tuesdays, you know,” Nadia reminded her. “You perform once a month. The café takes up enough of your time, which is why we’ve been talking about interviewing for a manager to free up some of your time in the office. I think we should move up that timetable. As for your friends, you know we’re behind you, giving you all the emotional support we can. We can’t give you everything though, and you know that. You need more. We all need more. We can’t emotionally starve ourselves because we might get hurt or hurt others. That’s not living.”

  “Dammit, Nadia.” Siobhan wiped at her eyes. “Where did you learn all this touchy-feely self-help crap?”

  “From a certain blonde bombshell who decided she was going to be my friend even though I didn’t want one.”

  “You wanted one, you just didn’t want to admit it.”

  “You saw right through me. Saw me true. And just recently you told me that I had my whole life ahead of me and I couldn’t spend it elbow-deep in pastry dough.”

  “Me and my bi
g mouth,” Siobhan groused. “If I promise to think about acquiring a living, breathing sex toy, will you quit bitching at me?”

  “For a little while,” Nadia promised, relieved. “Just let me point out that there’s nothing wrong with having a fling. A woman’s got needs, darn it.”

  “Speaking of a woman’s needs, when is the professor coming home?”

  Nadia’s good humor dissolved. “He’s supposed to come home tonight, but it’s possible he might not be back until tomorrow.”

  “Is whatever he’s working on in Los Angeles not going well?”

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t want to talk about it, which to me means it’s very, very bad.” She reached for her phone. She hadn’t heard from Kane in hours, and it worried her. Not that he hadn’t contacted her, but that he was probably dealing with something unpleasant that required his complete concentration, and it was that something that worried her. He’d seemed so subdued yesterday, so unlike the man she’d come to know and appreciate. His energy had quickly changed thanks to a little phone sex, and she was glad to have been able to do that for him. She had the feeling it was going to take something a little more live and in person to ease his burden this time.

  She thumbed her phone out of sleep mode, then sent him a text. Hi! Are you going to make it back to the Bay tonight?

  It was a long while before he responded. I’m on the last plane out. Boarding soon.

  Something about the phrasing of his text bothered her. This one didn’t feel as teasing as most of his other exchanges with her. It made her wonder again what sort of consult he was doing in Los Angeles. Her overactive imagination provided all sorts of details for what sort of heinous crime he’d been asked to offer his expertise on. She knew a good bit about the grime that lay beneath the glitter that made up Tinseltown. What must it be like to have to see the results of that day in, day out for a living? How did Kane handle it? How did anyone?

  It was ridiculous trying to interpret the emotional tone of a text message, but Nadia did it anyway. Those few simple words told her that the day hadn’t gone as well as the previous one, which she already knew hadn’t been stellar.