“Sorry, babe. We’ll be in and out. An hour tops.”
“That’s fine.”
I just hope I can keep my courage for that long.
****************************************************************
Know why I hate blonde, leggy, personable actresses? Because they’re so freaking nice that I have no reason to hate them—even though the chick is currently clinging to Law like a vine and batting her ridiculously long eyelashes at him.
Little ole me is totally forgotten, but thank God I have a hot hunk sitting next to me who seems to like me just fine, so I don’t have to sit here with a mouth full of teeth and dead tongue.
“Like I was saying, Nico…I can call you Nico, right? As I was saying, you would be perfect for this role in the new movie I’m shooting next week. All that beautiful hair and those eyes. Man! The director would go nuts if he saw you.”
I can’t even remember the guy’s name, and I’m fully aware that he’s spinning me a bull story, but I play along if only to keep up some conversation while Law allows Marissa to climb him like a monkey.
Stupid, beautiful, kind…person.
“You’re hilarious. I can act about as well as I skydive, but thanks for the compliment. So what’s it like being an actor?”
He starts talking, and I zone out, so not interested in a word. A polite smile and nod every now and then is all it takes, I guess. I’m pretty sure the guy’s got his arm around the back of my chair, and he’s so close I bet he can see down my shirt and tell you my bra size.
Another thirty minutes passes and we’re almost hitting dessert when I literally feel Law turn my way and glare in the guy’s direction.
“You sit any closer and you’ll be on her goddamned lap.”
I titter—admittedly, I’ve had like four glasses of wine and I’m making steady inroads on my fifth. Mr. Actor turns a light shade of pink and backs off, his green eyes shooting daggers at Law.
“Come on, babe. I think we should go up. You look…beat.”
Another giggle—and since when do I freaking giggle?—escapes me and I end up tottering to my feet, feeling so great I even spare a smile for Marissa and the fool next to me.
“Christ, that guy was checking out your tits,” he snarls when we reach the elevator.
I’m still feeling buzzed and not so steady on my feet, so I just flop against the wall and smile.
“He was nice.”
“He was trying to get in your pants!”
Ooooh, someone’s jealous.
“Eh, he wasn’t doing too badly actually. He offered me a starring role in a new movie that’s probably gonna be a blockbuster.”
“You can’t act for shit and we all know it. He was making a play.”
He’s snarling every word as he pulls me to the room and flings the door open. All I can manage is a slurred burp and giggle, which it seems only pisses him off even more.
“You wanted that asshole?”
“Eh.”
That’s all I get out before I’m pinned to the wall by two hundred and some odd pounds of hot, angry male. His mouth swoops down and takes mine in a show of dominant possession that has me so hot so quickly that I think my panties just melted right off.
“Mine.”
His mouth is back, and he’s kissing me senseless, so senseless I don’t realize we’ve moved till I feel the soft mattress beneath my back. Pulling away, which makes me groan and try to cling to him, he rises up above me and starts ripping at my clothes.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy.”
He’s huffing by the time my dress and underwear are gone, and I feel a moment’s hesitation. I shouldn’t be doing this, I should be—
All thoughts cease when he stretches out naked above me and opens his mouth over my nipple, his other hand coming up to roll and tug at the other bud.
Pleasure and arousal hammer at me, making my blood pulse through my veins in a hot, sluggish pounding that sets up shop in my sex and spreads outward to every cell of my being.
I want him so much in that instant that I allow it all to drop away; I push it all back for later. Now, just this once, I want to feel the rush and crash of mutual desire.
“Your tits are perfect, bigger than they were before,” he says and groans, using his teeth and tongue to torture me. “Does that feel good, babe?”
“Yes. Yes. Please don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. He worships my breasts till I’m nothing more than a muddled mess of writhing and moaning before venturing south. He licks at every inch of skin, scrapes his teeth over my hipbones, and then sets to work between my legs with a focus that has me weeping and clawing at him, begging for relief.
“Law. Please.”
“What is it, babe? What do you need?”
He’s grinning against my thigh, daring me to voice my every dark desire and go with him wherever it is he’s trying to lead me. I want to. I want to tell him every filthy, desperate need I’ve had for the last ten years, and then I want him to fulfil every one.
I want slow and sweet, hard and wild, and then I want to start all over again and let him have me in every position known to man, and even some I don’t think exist anywhere but in my depraved mind.
“You.”
It’s all I can manage to get out through my clenched, choked throat.
I want him so bad.
It seems to be enough though, and he all but falls on me as he rears up, palming my head and taking my mouth in a kiss that is hotter and more intense than any we have ever shared.
“You’re so beautiful, Nic. I’ve been starving for you, babe.”
I can’t reciprocate and tell him that I’ve spent days dreaming about this, craving just the slightest brush of his hand, anything to calm the raging need that’s set in and won’t seem to go, no matter what I do.
He’s kissing me gain, his mouth and hands holding my head still, as he knees my legs wider and lines himself up. I let out a keening cry, as he thrusts home in one hard, heavy movement that seats him before I can utter a protest.
The fit is tight, a little too tight, as he pushes till not an inch of his erection is bare of my sex.
“Goooood.”
“Ssh, babe. That’s it, Nic. Just relax and let yourself feel me,” he croons, taking my mouth in a series of slow, smooching kisses that are meant to soothe and calm the slight pain.
I obey and will myself to relax and just focus on his mouth and the way his hands are gently stoking through my hair. Soon enough, he starts kissing me deeper and sucking on my tongue. His groan of pleasure is followed swiftly by my own when I wiggle my hips and feel an answering pulse of renewed arousal.
He takes the hint and pulls his hips back, never leaving my mouth, forcing me to share his breath as he pulls back and pushes in, back and in, back and in, in a pace that is as slow and sweet as it is hot.
I feel him everywhere, and—man-oh-man—is it better than I ever remembered.
“More.”
He ignores me and keeps at the slow pace.
It feels like hours later that I feel a rush of pleasure so great I scream into his mouth and explode in a burst of twitching legs, clawing nails, and so much pleasure I can’t catch my breath.
That does the trick for Law, too, and with one more thrust, I feel him tense and come with me, his feral groans and growls absorbed by our still clinging mouths.
Minutes later, he pulls away and comes down beside me, pulling me closer and into his arms. The action makes me wary, not because I don’t appreciate the comfort or cuddling after such a mind-blowing event, but because he’s never been a cuddler, and it’s another new thing about him that leaves me feeling terrible.
“You okay, babe?” he whispers, snuffling into my neck with a contented sigh.
“Great.”
But I’m not, and even as the minutes tick by and I feel him relax and then drift off to sleep, I’m fully awake and filled with regrets.
I’ve been a bitter, selfish fool all this
time and it’s time I faced the truth. I didn’t keep Cody from him because he wouldn’t have been a great father or a fabulous champion for his kid. I didn’t keep it from him to protect Cody from future disappointment, or even because I felt that it was better for my kid.
I did this because I was pissed and hurt and bitter about the way he’d treated me. I’d loved him so much that when he’d left me I’d felt used and broken.
That hurt had turned into anger and then resentment, and I’d somehow fooled myself into thinking that I had a valid reason for keeping the man away from his son.
Seems that for all my intelligence, I am not the most emotionally savvy woman around.
And tomorrow morning, I have to wake up and tell the man—whom I now realize I never stopped wanting—that I wronged him in the worst way.
Chapter Thirteen
Law
I wake with a sense of peace and contentment that I haven’t felt in so long that it takes me a while to decipher the emotion before putting a name to it.
Yeah, I feel happy and…whole…in a way I haven’t experienced since I won my first game or got scouted in college to go pro.
The feeling is warm and graceful and so complete, and I can’t help a grin as I roll over and look at the woman lying beside me in bed. Nic…
I’d met her one day when Dad called and asked me to go to the NYU campus to headhunt the girl. I’d been annoyed to miss a full day of practice checking out some college puff piece who probably couldn’t negotiate a deal if it ran up and bit her on her prissy ass.
Boy had I been wrong.
We’d met with the dean and been shown to a lecture hall that was full to the rafters but for three reserved seats.
And then I saw her.
Nineteen years old, teaching an advanced Econ class and so fucking beautiful it took me ten minutes to stop drooling and tune into what she was saying.
And man, she was way beyond smart. I’d realized soon that my old man had a reason for trying to snatch this young girl up before she even touched her last week and graduated.
Nicolette was well and truly the most vibrantly intelligent and outgoing girl I’d ever set my eyes on. And she was a hot little nerd, who wore a Star Wars t-shirt depicting two lightsabers—one big and one tiny, saying ‘Of course size matters.’
Sense of humor, too.
Shit. I’d all but left a drool trail all the way to the lectern by the time she stopped talking and dismissed the class to a resounding round of applause.
Yeah, my girl was smart and well liked and everything I never knew I wanted. I’d dumped my girlfriend the same day and set out to seduce the hell out of her, as my dad wooed her for James.
I can be a charming bastard when I want to be and had the starry-eyed girl eating out of my hand in the two weeks in which I’d romanced her to death.
Turned out that while she was most definitely a virgin—Roooar!—she was not the shy type, and I’d had her maidenhead before the month was up.
Of course, I fell in love. No smart man in his right mind could have resisted Nic’s quirky charms and her insatiable sexuality. She was simply the perfect woman, right down to her hatred of shopping or wearing makeup.
Mom had taken over there and whipped her into shape while Dad set her up in the company.
I took my sweet time finishing college. I was going pro as a star goalie after all, so wasn’t too concerned about any of it. With Nic at Dad’s side, I was free to pursue my dreams and have my perfect girl waiting for me at home.
I had it great till Nathaniel Lincoln slammed into me the last twenty seconds on the clock, trying to land a goal and end my shutout.
My knee was well and truly fucked, and there ended my career before it even began. And there started my discontent and the need to get free and live my life…because I knew that Dad and Nic would expect me to just forget that my dreams were shattered and join the company.
I didn’t want to be a CEO. A suit. Some stuck up exec who played golf twice a week and attended charity events while my wife pranced around dripping in jewels.
So I steadily got increasingly bitter and angry. I became more resentful of Nic, the happier she seemed to get.
And then I’d exploded one night, the night of Dad and Mom’s twentieth anniversary party.
I still can’t think about that night without feeling weak with regret, and I still feel lingering pain, just as much as when I’d realized I’d destroyed the only woman I ever gave a shit about.
Not only had I publicly humiliated her in front of the people she worked with and needed to lead every day, but also I screamed my distaste of her in front of my parents, ruining their party and losing their respect.
They forgave me, eventually, after about three months of unanswered calls and a lot of pleading on my part. But I never once called Nic to ask forgiveness.
No, I’d done what I always did and ignored it, pretending I didn’t give a shit as long as she wasn’t weighing me down and telling me in her soft, understanding voice how sorry she was for my knee and that life went on, that I had a bigger purpose, that God had closed one door, but there was sure to be another that would open somewhere better.
Yeah, I’d fucked it all up royally, but I have another chance now, and I swear I won’t ruin it by being the same immature, cowardly loser I was at the tender age of twenty-two.
This time I’ll be everything she needs and more, and I’ll get the family I’ve been denying myself all this time. I think it’s been my way of punishing myself for what I did, but I’ve suffered ten years of loneliness, so I’m quitting my shit and just taking what I want.
What I need to survive.
Grinning once again, because yeah, I’m just that damned happy, I pull her naked body into my arms and groan at the feel of her hot, smooth skin making contact with mine.
She sniffles and groans, stretching with a jaw-cracking yawn before opening her eyes and smiling softly at me.
“Morning, beautiful,” I murmur, kissing her and chuckling when she tries to push away, muttering about morning breath.
“God, you still look great in the morning, even with bed head and stubble,” she gripes, pushing away.
I grin at her and feel a weight lift off me when she smiles back and reaches out to caress my jaw.
“We need to talk about the future, babe.”
“I know,” she says sadly, pulling her hand away and closing her eyes on a shudder. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Nico
I’m so nervous it feels like my lungs are compressing within my chest cavity, and God, my heart’s fit to beat right out of its moorings the longer he lies there and stares at me with that sappy grin on his face.
Apparently, he’s put as much stock in our one-nighter as I have and plans a lot more for us. Heaven willing, he’ll be in a fit frame of mind to forgive me for my mistakes, or I’m pretty sure I’m about to get my ass booted out and there’s a huge possibility that I may be in a custody battle soon.
Law keeps grinning widely and shuffles onto his stomach, his arms gripping his pillow.
“So here’s the thing. I’m pretty sure that last night was some of the best sex you and I ever had, babe. Let me just say that whatever you learned after me…well worth the sacrifice of having some other asshole screwing my girl.”
I don’t say anything because, well, I’m quite frankly a bit speechless that he has it in him to be this crass. I wait instead, coward that I am, for whatever else he has to say.
“I’ll be a good father to your son, too. We have so much in common that I can’t see how we won’t get along, and to be honest, I’ve kinda been thinking about kids lately,” he admits ruefully, giving me a gentle smile.
Law…thinking about children? You can knock me down with a feather I’m that flabbergasted because, honestly, I would never have suspected Law James of wanting kids.
Maybe one day in his late forties the guy would feel the need to co
ntinue the hallowed line—and then only for duty’s sake—but to actually want kids…Law?
“Really?”
My voice is nothing but a whisper of breath.
“I never would have pegged you for the type.”
That makes him laugh, and I feel my heartbeat even out a little that he’s not taking my words as an insult.
“Yeah. About two years ago I had this chick claiming she was pregnant with my kid. After that initial shock, I kinda got so into the idea that by the time I found out she was lying I was more than a little disappointed.”
“Really?”
Okay, honesty time; I do not like the idea of some other broad carrying his kid, and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m jealous that he’d been with someone and risked impregnating her.
That was my special thing!
“Yup. She was some ditzy, Euro-trash, yacht hopper who was an easy time and not much else.”
I have to admit to being shocked that the man I…like…is being this callous about another woman. I’ve never seen this side of him, but for that one time…no, I won’t think about that now…and it’s annoying to think that the man I’d just slept with can be that unfeeling when talking about someone he was interested in enough to sleep with.
His words give me pause. Do I really want him as a role model for my son?
“You liked her enough to fall into bed with her.”
He shrugs nonchalantly.
“Sure, but she was never going to be wife or mother material, that’s for sure.”
“Okay? But you would have married her to raise your child together?”
Please say yes, I beg silently, hoping and praying that he isn’t going to say anything more to ruin what I was looking at as a new start for us.
“Marry her? Hell no, babe! The chick wasn’t even that good in the sack. I drew up a contract and was prepared to pay her handsomely to give up parental rights to the kid.”
Oh Jesus, it just keeps getting worse!
“Uh—”
LUCI (The Naughty Ones Book 2) Page 71
