I Knew You Were Trouble

by Lauren Layne

  She was both hungry for what was to come and nervous. Not a familiar combination of emotions for her, and not a particularly comfortable one.

  Taylor wondered if Nick sensed this, because even when his hands left her face, he kept his touch gentle. His palms glided over her shoulders and down her sides until his fingers gripped her hips.

  His lips found her neck and Taylor moaned, head falling back. Her hands slipped beneath his sweater and she put her palms on the hot skin of his back.

  He growled, and just like that, his touch got a bit rougher, his mouth more demanding as he lifted his hands to her back, left bare by her dress.

  She wasn’t wearing a bra, and if he didn’t know it before, he had to know it now, with her hardened nipples nudging his chest as she wiggled to get closer.

  She nipped at his neck, and he swore, turning her gently but firmly until she faced the counter.

  Instinctively knowing what he wanted, she gathered her hair on one side and tipped her head forward so his lips could play along the back of her neck, then down her back in wet, warm kisses that left her shivering in anticipation.

  His hands slipped into the open sides of her dress, palmed her breasts. Her nipples had always been sensitive, not particularly into rough play, but that too he seemed to know, touching her lightly, teasingly.

  Taylor heard a low pleading noise and realized it was her, realized that she needed more. Now.

  A second later he’d scooped her up, one arm around her shoulder, the other beneath her knees, and she laughed in delight, because nobody had ever made her feel quite so feminine.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  She shrugged and planted a quick kiss on his jaw. “You choose.” This wasn’t about his territory or hers; it was about wanting the other person so damn much it didn’t matter.

  Nick turned toward his own bedroom, laying her down gently before lowering himself on top of her.

  His mouth dropped to hers; the leisurely exploration of before was rapidly turning into urgent need. Her fingers wrangled his pants. His hands slid up her thighs, taking her dress with them.

  Since Nick wore more clothing, they tackled him first, working together to rid him of every bit of clothing.

  Taylor’s was easier. She kicked off her shoes as he eased the silky dress over her head.

  He groaned a little at the sight of her sexy underwear, basic black in the front, but with an unexpected lace-up red bow in the back.

  She gave him a knowing smile. “Thought you might like these.”

  He proved her right by rolling her onto her stomach and flicking a finger over the playful ribbon before moving to the sides and tracing along the outer curve of her butt.

  “I was wrong. The yoga pants don’t do this part of you justice at all,” he said, his voice raspy.

  Taylor lifted herself on her elbows and gave him a smirk. “Nick Ballantine, are you an ass man?”

  “When it comes to you, I’m an everything man.”

  He hauled her hips upward, and before she could absorb what he intended, he hooked one finger into her underwear, pulling them aside before pressing his mouth to her ready wetness from behind.

  She moaned into the comforter. The position was more vulnerable than she was used to, but she couldn’t bring herself to make him stop. Not when his tongue flicked at her clit, his hand pressed to her lower back to hold her in place.

  Her breaths came faster and he licked her harder until Taylor cried out, coming harder than she ever had in her life. An earthquake of sensation that she thought might kill her.

  She collapsed to her stomach, and he kissed up along her spine until shifting to the side to lay beside her, a warm hand against her back. “I always knew I could get you to be a screamer.”

  Taylor let out a tired laugh. “I hate you. You killed me.”

  “Isn’t that how you always figured this would go, though?” he said, kissing her shoulder. “One of us killing the other.”

  She turned her head to give him a narrow-eyed look. “Now that you mention it, I did sort of have that premonition, except it wasn’t me doing the dying.”

  Then she all but pounced on him, rolling him onto his back, her fingers pinning his hands to his pillow.

  He could have thrown her off easily, but he didn’t, instead opting to lift his head and take a breast in his mouth.

  She wiggled her hips, and they both groaned as the tip of his cock brushed against her. “On the pill,” she managed around a gasp. “Any reason I shouldn’t—”

  In response Nick’s hands circled her waist, lifting her slightly before positioning her over him. His eyes were hungry as they held hers, and she knew he wanted nothing more than to take control, but instead he stayed still, letting her take charge. A gift of sorts.

  She rewarded them both by lowering onto him slowly, each inch spreading her wider until she was snug around him.

  “Taylor,” he gasped, his fingers tightening on her hips.

  She began to move her hips, grinding over him in slow circles. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, lapped it gently and she moaned, moving faster and faster.

  It was too much too fast and too soon, but she was helpless against the onslaught. She managed a cry of warning before she tightened around him.

  Nick was right there with her, hips slamming into hers as he roared his release inside her.

  A few moments later his hands slid to her back, nudging her downward so she lay sprawled across his chest, sated and drowsy, but most of all…

  Happy.

  A sort of bone-deep happiness that was both foreign and wonderful, but scary.

  Scary, because Taylor had never felt this way before. And she didn’t have the slightest clue how to hold on to it.

  Chapter 23

  Two weeks after he’d slept with Taylor for the first time (and most definitely not the last time), Nick barged into Lincoln Mathis’s office uninvited.

  A startled Lincoln glanced up, and Nick was mildly chagrined to realize Mathis wasn’t alone; Nick had clearly interrupted a meeting.

  But since the other man in the room was Alex Cassidy, whom Nick considered a friend, he entered the office anyway.

  He stomped toward Lincoln’s desk and lowered himself into the free chair beside Cassidy’s. Then he looked between the two men and frowned. “Don’t these little chats usually happen in Cassidy’s office, what with Cassidy being the boss and all?”

  “He was boning Emma in there again,” Lincoln said. “I refused to enter and expose myself to the sex vibes.”

  Cassidy glowered. “Convinced as I am that you have fooled around with Daisy in this very office, thus making you a hypocrite, lingering on that thought would also mean accepting that you’ve seen my sister-in-law naked. So I’ll refrain.”

  Nick steepled his fingers and let them work through this.

  Everyone at Oxford seemed to be dating someone who knew or was related to someone else, but Lincoln and Cassidy’s situation was especially weird.

  Their respective significant others were identical twins. Not that the two women looked all that much alike these days. Emma had brown hair, while Daisy had gone blond, and so on….

  Still, none of this was why he’d stormed in here.

  “I need help,” he announced.

  “Sure,” Cassidy said, starting to stand. “I’ve got a free hour. Want to talk in my office?”

  Nick waved him back down. “Not that kind of help. The story you gave me is going fine even though it’s boring as shit. I need a different kind of help.”

  He didn’t know what was more annoying: the men’s initial surprise or the knowing, smug grins that followed.

  “Do tell,” Lincoln said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his hands over his lean torso. “Has cocky, know-it-all Ballantine gotten himself in a love knot?”

  A love knot?

  Nick pointed an incredulous finger at Lincoln and looked at Cassidy. “Does he always talk like this?”

  “Mostl
y,” Cassidy said. “But before this conversation goes any further, I have to ask. Are you about to discuss intimate relations with one of my employees?”

  Nick lifted his eyebrows. “Maybe. But aren’t you used to it by now?”

  Cassidy let out a startled laugh that he tried to hide.

  Lincoln nodded approvingly at Nick. “He’s got you there, Cassidy. And besides, there’s no official rule against office fraternization. Cole and Penelope checked.”

  “Of course they did,” Cassidy muttered, referring to Oxford’s star sportswriters, who were also very much involved. “All right, fine. What’s going on?” he asked Nick.

  “That’s sort of the million-dollar question,” Nick said, dragging his hands down his face.

  “So you and Taylor. Really a thing, then?” Lincoln asked.

  “If I knew what the hell Taylor and I were, I wouldn’t be in here talking to you two.”

  “Well, you’re living together,” Cassidy said slowly.

  Nick nodded impatiently.

  “And sleeping together?”

  Another nod, plus a very pleasurable memory of last night. Of every night.

  “Well now, I don’t know,” Cassidy said, glancing at Lincoln. “What does that sound like to you, Mathis?”

  “Sounds an awful lot like what Daisy and I are doing.”

  “It’s different,” Nick growled.

  “How?”

  “Because Daisy’s…”

  He nearly said easier, but he didn’t want Lincoln misconstruing it as Nick implying that Lincoln’s woman was easy. Mathis was affable on the outside, but he had an alpha, protective side when it came to his woman.

  But Nick had no idea how to explain that being involved with Taylor was like cuddling a stick of dynamite. All was calm now, but she was the most passionate woman he’d ever encountered, and he had a vague feeling that one wrong move on his part would mean he’d have a hell of a time getting her back.

  “Taylor’s complicated?” Cassidy supplied for him.

  “Hell yes,” Nick said, grateful for the assist.

  “All women are complicated,” Lincoln said.

  “True,” Nick granted. He had yet to date a woman who wasn’t. And yet…were he and Taylor dating? Perhaps that was the crux of the issue. They’d somehow gone from enemies to roommates to friends to lovers, but all of those descriptors, while accurate, didn’t feel right.

  He wanted to be more to her. And that right there was the problem.

  The more time he spent with Taylor Carr, the more he wanted all of her. And he couldn’t escape the feeling that she wasn’t his to keep.

  “This about Bradley?” Lincoln asked.

  Nick leaned forward, running his hands through his hair. He wanted to say no. Wanted to say that he didn’t give a shit about Taylor’s ex.

  “She loved him,” he heard himself mutter.

  Taylor might be seeing Calloway more clearly now, and he didn’t think she was pining for the idiot, but she’d never once denied that she’d cared strongly for the other man, even if he’d proved not to deserve it.

  “And how does she feel about you?” Cassidy asked.

  “She likes me,” he muttered, feeling like a junior high kid.

  It was embarrassing how a week ago hearing her admit something as simple as liking him had made him feel as though he owned the world.

  Lately, however, it wasn’t feeling like enough. Not nearly enough.

  “This girl talk is getting good,” Lincoln said, rubbing his hands together. “How do you feel about her?”

  Nick gave the other man a glare to let him know it wasn’t up for discussion.

  Mostly because he didn’t have a good answer. Caring about Taylor Carr felt both inevitable and dangerous. The woman was generous, seductive, kind…

  And yet even as he fell further under her spell, he was aware that their visions of the future didn’t align. She’d been rather adamant about not seeing herself in the mother role, and Nick had always wanted a big family.

  Normally he wouldn’t even be thinking about these things—it was too early in the relationship. He might change his mind. She might change hers. But with the wound of losing Hannah so fresh in his mind, he’d be lying if he said that the prospect of not having another chance at being a father didn’t burn him at the soul level.

  “So, let me see if I can sum this up,” Cassidy said. “She likes you. But she loved Bradley. You won’t even tell us how you feel about her. Nor do you have a name for what you guys are. And you want us to help you with…?”

  Lincoln threw a paper clip at Cassidy, surprisingly taking Nick’s side. “Shut it, Cassidy. I don’t seem to remember you having all your shit figured out with Emma.”

  “I wasn’t this bad,” Cassidy muttered.

  “Really? It only took you, what, eight years to lock that down?” Lincoln asked.

  Cassidy threw the paper clip back. Hard.

  Nick nearly smiled. At least he wasn’t the only one stuck in elementary school today.

  “Ballantine, here’s what you’re really asking us,” Lincoln said, shifting his attention away from Cassidy. “You’re off balance because you’ve met the woman. She’s tied you up in knots, you can’t stop thinking about her, you’re terrified you’ll never be able to stop thinking about her. And you want us to tell you that it’ll get easier. That it’ll pass.”

  Nick gave Lincoln a wary look. “Will it?”

  “No.”

  Nick winced and glanced at Cassidy, who shrugged and then shook his head.

  “Shit,” he muttered. “So what do I do?”

  “Only thing you can do,” Lincoln said. “Try not to fuck it up.”

  Chapter 24

  Taylor put her hands on her hips and looked at the belly-up dog at her feet.

  The brown eyes clearly said love me, but it was more demand than was plea.

  “I’m not going to rub your belly until you apologize for chewing my shoe,” Taylor told the dog, who’d come with the name Twinkie.

  Twinkie wagged her tail, and Taylor relented, bending and running a tentative hand along the dog’s soft pink belly. “Promise me I won’t regret bringing you home,” she said.

  The dog rolled onto her feet and licked Taylor’s chin. Promise.

  “Okay, and you’ll protect me from Nick when he sees that I brought us a third roommate without asking him first?”

  Twinkie’s brown tail swished furiously against the hardwood, obviously quite confident in her ability to charm anyone.

  Taylor wasn’t so sure. To say that the dog had been an impulsive decision was an understatement.

  One minute she’d been taking a YouTube break at work, planning to watch a makeup tutorial to give her brain something to think about other than mockups that all looked exactly the same.

  The next minute she’d been watching a commercial talking about the thousands of dogs in shelters, with no home, no one to love them….

  For some reason that damn commercial had just gotten to her—the dogs’ sad faces, the hopelessness.

  She’d wanted to save them. And of course she couldn’t save them all, but she could save one….

  So she’d done just that.

  After work she’d stopped to pick up a leash and collar and called a pet store near her apartment to have dog food, treats, toys, and dishes delivered to her place.

  Then she’d marched into a Manhattan shelter, faked confidence she didn’t have, and announced that she wanted a dog.

  The twentysomething volunteer had asked what kind of dog, and Taylor had simply said, “The one that needs love the most.”

  Twenty minutes later she’d walked out with Twinkie pulling giddily at the leash.

  She didn’t know dogs, but she supposed that as far as conventional dog looks went, Twinkie wasn’t a beauty.

  The shelter had told her that their best guess was that Twinkie was about five years old and part Lab, part German shepherd, and part pit bull. All attractive breeds in th
eir own right, but mixed together? Taylor was utterly, thoroughly charmed.

  No, more than that, she thought as she stroked the scratchy fur on Twinkie’s head.

  She was already head over heels in love.

  “Okay, let’s see what else that hundred dollars at the pet store got me,” Taylor said, going to the bag.

  She pulled out an ugly-looking cow toy and laughed when Twinkie leapt high in the air and grabbed the toy out of her hand.

  “Hold on there,” Taylor said, grabbing the toy right back. “We have to take the tags off.”

  Twinkie whined mournfully as Taylor snipped the tags, then wagged her tail in gratitude before bounding toward the living room, cow toy in her mouth, thrashing it furiously.

  “Make yourself at home,” Taylor muttered as Twinkie hopped on the couch and settled down to squeak the toy.

  An hour later Taylor was sitting on the couch beside Twinkie, sipping a glass of wine and reading a blog for first-time dog owners on her iPad, when Nick got home.

  She’d just finished a post about how dogs—especially older dogs who hadn’t come from good homes—often didn’t respond well to strangers. Especially men.

  That apparently wasn’t going to be the case with Twinkie and Nick.

  The door hadn’t even shut behind him when Twinkie launched herself at his knees.

  Twinkie wasn’t particularly tall, but she was sturdy, and her brown body knocked Nick back a full step.

  “What the—”

  Nick stared down at the dog trying to climb its way up his body before his eyes searched the room for Taylor.

  She gave him a nervous smile. “So. I got a dog.”

  He stared at her, then back at Twinkie. “You got a dog.”

  “Surprise?”

  Nick didn’t respond, setting his bag on the floor before lowering to a crouch.

  Twinkie gave him an enthusiastic kiss on the face, and his big hand stroked the dog’s head. “Hey, buddy. I’m guessing from the pink collar you’re a girl?”

  Taylor took another sip of wine for courage. He didn’t sound mad. This was good.