by Nikky Kaye
“Are you in love?”
“Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
I hauled Zoe closer—not that she could get much closer without being on my lap—and brought my body in front of her so she was out of the line of fire. Then I took a deep breath.
“Yes.”
17
Zoe
When Nathan said “Yes,” at least two people gasped, but I couldn’t be sure whom. Whose question had he answered? Was he crazy about me, or just crazy?
He dragged his hand through his hair, which was really getting too shaggy but he knew I liked to pull on it. He kind of liked it too. There were a lot of things I liked about Nathan, including the warmth of his body pressed against my thigh right then. At that moment his presence grounded me, protected me.
If my head was spinning, I couldn’t imagine how he felt. One night, we lay in the dark with the city alight outside and he revealed a little about his relationship with Benny. The sneer on my stepfath—no, my mother’s husband’s face surprised me, but it surely didn’t faze Nathan.
“I was never good enough, never smart enough, never interesting enough, never whatever enough,” he’d said. I got the feeling he was still bitter and confused about the feelings of guilt and shame that had plagued him since his mother ran off when he was little.
His father had been no help; in fact he made it worse by shipping him off to private school at the age of eleven. I think Nathan had a better relationship with his dad’s driver at the time than did with Benny.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Nathan’s experiments with punishment were due to some unresolved anger. Yeah, he had Daddy issues. Benny had never been anything but warm and polite to me, but maybe he was just playing nice for my mom.
I poked Nathan’s thigh until he glanced back at me. “It’s okay,” I whispered, wanting to reassure him that I was there for him. As our gazes met, his back straightened at the same time his anger sagged.
With his elbows on his thighs, he leaned forward and clasped his hands together tightly. My own curled into fists in my lap, itching to grip his again and never let go.
“Yes, Zoe and I are seeing each other.”
My heart sputtered and drowned with disappointment. His announcement was so… anticlimactic. Had I really expected him to profess his undying love for me? Well, no. But a girl could still hope, right?
Benny snorted. “Zoe, you should stay away from him. He doesn’t know how to have a real relationship.”
“That’s rich, Dad.”
“Yeah, so are you, and that’s the only way you’ve been able to get women so far.”
My mom’s jaw was becoming unhinged at the vile things her new husband was spewing at Nathan. Benny was lucky I couldn’t see him, because if I had to watch his lips move as they spit out these nasty things, I might leap over there and punch him in the throat. From the lines around Mom’s eyes, she was contemplating it herself. Who was this man?
I wanted to wrap myself around Nathan like a force field, shielding him from his father’s bullshit. And it was bullshit. I hadn’t fallen in love with Nathan for his money.
Wow. I am in love with Nathan.
“Zoe?”
I blinked, startled out of my revelation by my mother’s voice. She had gotten out of the line of fire and drifted to the kitchen island.
“Can I help you make some coffee?” she asked pointedly.
I didn’t want to leave Nathan’s side, didn’t want any distance between our bodies. The imploring look on my mother’s face convinced me that she might need me more than he did right now, however. He squeezed my bare knee, confirming it for me.
“’S’okay. I got this.”
I was less than convinced. However, my mother was banging our cupboards open and shut in her quest, so I left him to it. Please don’t let me down, I prayed silently. Zuzu’s anklets tinkled as she moved around the kitchen.
“I thought you only drank tea now,” I said.
“This is no time for tea.” Thus spoke Zuzu.
Clutching my hands, she whirled me away from the temptation of peripheral vision. “How long?” Her eyes rolled up. “What am I saying, you’ve only known him for two months. Zoe, you’ve only known him for two months!”
“You married Benny after only three months.”
“True, but I put him off for two of those months so he wouldn’t think I was a gold digger. He asked me to marry him on our fifth date.”
I hadn’t known that.
“Do you love him?” she asked me.
“Aren’t you at all concerned? He’s my stepbrother. Like, yuck?”
“Oh please. People are connected on different planes of existence. Blood doesn’t matter.”
“We’re not blood-related, Mom.”
“Then who cares?”
“You don’t?” Mom was always a bit of a free spirit, but I thought she’d at least… Mom me.
She waved her hand. “You’re a grown-up. You know what you’re doing.” Did I? “Look at my baby. You’re a college graduate, living and working in New York… I’m so proud of you!” Tears welled up in her eyes and her grip on my fingers tightened.
“What about Benny?”
“Benny better get his head out of his ass if he knows what’s good for him,” she said darkly. “Is he good in bed?”
I was having trouble keeping up. “Benny?”
“No, Nathan. He looks… strong.” She glanced over at our men.
I wasn’t so blasé that I could control my blushes yet. With my skin, it was possible I’d never be that experienced, unless I started escorting on the side.
“How do you work this thing?” She fiddled with the coffeemaker. “You know, after the monastery we did a Tantric sex retreat, and the things I learned—”
Immediately the patented Nathan Brownlow Halt Hand came up. I’d learned it well. “Stop. Please, for the love of Buddha, stop.”
She smiled gently, her mood calming without the help of tea. Caffeine, however, still didn’t seem like a helpful addition to the situation, so I lured her away from the coffee maker. “Does he love you?”
Thankfully she’d forgotten her earlier question about my loving Nathan. Or she just assumed I did. Regardless, I didn’t know how to respond to this one, either. “Um…”
“Are you sure you and he aren’t just…”
“What?”
“Convenient?” Worry lines bracketed my mother’s eyes. “I know things sometimes just happen when you’re living in close quarters with someone. God knows I’ve read enough books where—”
Halt Hand. “No, that’s not it. We really, uh, like each other.” Didn’t we?
Nathan and Benny stood up and moved to the Den of Iniquity. Oh shit. Did my stepfa—mother’s husband—know about the closet? He probably did. And now my mother would find out, too? Double shit.
Should I follow them or not? By the time I asked myself the question, my mother had already scuttled behind them. After her Tantric sex revelation, would she want to borrow anything? Triple scoop shit sundae with my cherry on top. My heart skipped a beat before I remembered with relief that the wardrobe was blocked by the bed Nathan got me.
Until I rocked up to the doorway and saw it was gone. The Den of Iniquity was now just a… den. “Nathan, what—?”
He met my confused gaze. His frustrated tugging on his hair made it look like he’d been in a wind tunnel, but his green eyes were clear and wide on me. “Yesterday. When you went into work for a while.”
I’d pulled some Saturday time with my mentor brainstorming the safe sex PSA brief. We’d decided our best approach was to go with “safer” sex, since no sex was totally safe.
God, did I know that! Falling into bed with Nathan was easily the most dangerous thing I’d ever done.
All the toys were gone? What did that mean? Disappointment shot through me, followed shortly by alarm that their disappearance meant something more insidious. Did Nathan not want to play with me an
ymore? Oh my god, did I turn him off of it?
I shook my head. If Nathan could hear my inner voice right now, he’d probably want to slap me—although, apparently all the sexy slapping stuff was gone now. My mother hopped behind me, trying to see inside the room. My “bed” had become a glorified laundry basket, and the room appeared completely innocuous without the Murphy Bed of Merinthophobia.
“So you’re telling me you’ve changed, just like that?” Ben Brownlow had his arms folded over his chest.
“Not just like that. And I prefer to think of it as ‘evolved,’” Nathan said, his panther-like gaze on me before shifting to his father.
“It’s still a mistake.”
“But it’s my mistake to make, as they all have been.” He tugged me to his side, his arm curled around my waist.
I stepped out of his loose hold, feeling cold prickles in my chest. Was he saying that being with me was a mistake? Or was the implied mistake supposed to be mine? Benny nodded at me knowingly. Infuriatingly.
Nathan continued, not noticing I’d moved away. “You’ve never supported me in any way other than financially. Congrats—you did a bang-up job at that, Ben. Believe me, I got a lot more out of your seed money than your actual seed.”
Ouch.
“I see your manners haven’t improved, son.” Ben turned to me. “Zoe, you deserve better than him. I hate to say it about my own flesh and blood, but he’s a power-hungry user. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.”
Genetics at work, I wanted to say. My illusion of Benjamin Brownlow had been ruptured, and I now struggled to reconcile his cruel words with the Birkenstock-wearing middle-aged hipster in front of me.
“I think it’s time we left the kids alone, Benny,” my mother said from the doorway. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about, but hopefully someone will fill me in later.”
I hoped not.
“But clearly we’ve outstayed our welcome—” She was interrupted by both Ben and Nathan’s snorts, which was the only thing they were in sync on. “And well, okay, we’re just going to go.”
With an apologetic smile, she grabbed her husband’s hand and pushed him to the apartment door. Ben’s lips were still curled into an ugly sneer as he bit out a goodbye that sounded more like a warning. Their departure was heralded by the chiming of Zuzu’s anklet bells, like the world’s tiniest cathedral on V-Day.
“Well, that was fun.” Nathan sighed heavily, looking like he wanted to punch something.
“It could have gone better,” I admitted. “Do you think we should have lied?”
“About what?”
Good question. He’d already been lying to himself if he didn’t believe that things like his mother’s abandonment or batshit ex-girlfriends hadn’t affected him. It was unfair of his father to brand him some kind of power-hungry sadist, though, since the only person Nathan had really been punishing was himself.
“Why did you get rid of everything?” I jerked my head in the direction of the den.
“I didn’t think—does it really matter?” He wiped his hands over his face, looking like he’d already had a long-ass day and it was only eleven on a Sunday morning. Something told me we weren’t going to get through the Times today.
It kind of mattered, if it represented his thoughts about a future with me, without me, or some kind of epiphany that he wasn’t sharing.
I gravitated toward him and wrapped my arms around him to hug him tightly. His heart thudded like a nail gun under my ear, and his breathing was harsh in the silence. Smoothing my hands up and down his back eroded some of his adrenaline, though, and soon his breathing was deep and controlled.
“Thanks.” Nathan’s arms tightened around me, and he lifted me off my feet in his embrace.
“F’wha?” I managed to get out.
Lowering me to the floor again, he took my face in his hands and kissed my lips. “For being here, I guess.”
“I love you, Nathan.” I clapped my hand over my mouth, our eyes widening at each other. Shit. That was supposed to be my inner voice.
18
Zoe
He dropped his gaze to the floor, looking like he wanted to throw up. It was not the reaction I was hoping for, to be perfectly honest. “Oh, Zoe,” he finally said.
“I’m sorry, that was a mistake. I mean, I didn’t mean it that way, for it to come out that way. But you already knew that, didn’t you?” My words were like a wet bar of soap in the shower—slippery and eluding capture, dangerously slickening the ground I stood on. Bad enough that I’d let it out; worse if he didn’t say it back.
When he reached for me I went into his arms willingly, but was afraid to meet his gaze as he slanted his mouth over mine. His kiss was hard, ruthless, chastening me while stoking the fire inside me that was always banked there for him. I’d put enough of myself out there now; I was dangling from the edge, and I wanted him to catch me.
My eyes closed as I reached under his t-shirt, compelled to feel his skin. I needed Nathan without the costume of sarcasm or success. I needed the man, not the millionaire. With my mouth and lips and tongue and hands I tried to show him that he was all I needed, and he was very much loved.
After I pulled his shirt off, there was no thought of going back. He groaned into my mouth, steering me to the bedroom while shoving the blue cardigan off my shoulders. My feet tangled in it at the same time that he unzipped my dress, both making me unsteady.
His grip was tight enough on my upper arms that I worried they would bruise. The thought flew from my head as he stripped me of my dress and pushed me down on the bed. The newspapers still on the bed rustled. I pushed them off and into a pile on the floor like autumn leaves.
With little ceremony, he shoved his shorts and briefs down and kicked them off his lean legs. His gaze raked over me, from my damp panties to my neck flushing pink with arousal.
“I need you,” he warned, stroking his cock up and down. “I want you all the fucking time, but I need you even more than that.”
“You have me,” I promised. “I’m yours to do what you want with—haven’t I proven that to you?”
Nathan was my reward, not my punishment, and I wanted to be his.
There were so many ways in which we were not equals. Couldn’t the intensity of our feelings even things out? I didn’t love him any less because I had less money or experience. If anything I loved him in spite of those things, not because of them.
I swallowed hard as I watched him fist his erection. My nipples tingled, and the low, squirming sensation in the pit of my belly intensified. I wanted and needed him, too. My fingers clawed at the bed in an effort not to reach for my own throbbing clit. I had to wait for him.
I didn’t have to wait long. He kneeled on the bed, my legs parting for him automatically. There was pure, shimmering heat in his gaze, and it singed me as though I was too close to a roaring fire. Sparks flew, our own doubts serving as a screen between us.
He looked stricken. “I’m so sorry about my father. Zoe, you have to know that I—”
“I know, Nathan, I know.” Unable to stop myself, I reached for him.
But before I could pull him onto me, he held me back with one hard hand, guiding himself to the folds of my entrance. My toes curled against the mattress, my knees instinctively going up for my thighs to cradle him in welcome. He rubbed the hot, swollen head of his cock against me, painting me with his pre-cum and teasing my sensitive clit.
“Oh god, please!” The ripples of a shallow orgasm threatened my already tenuous grasp on my self-control.
“Beg me,” he growled.
“I am!” My neck arched back, my need swallowing any hesitation or self-protection. “Fuck me, please!”
He paused before pressing in an inch or so, stretching me deliciously. Then stopped. My fingers plucked at his body—his biceps, abs, hips, cheeks. I couldn’t get a grip on him, and he held himself just out of reach but for the tip of his erection opening me up. Why won’t he just—
“
Aaahhh!” A cry whooshed out of me as he pierced me without further warning.
He never withdrew or retreated, only surged onward until he was buried deep within me and his pelvis rocked against mine. He literally couldn’t get any closer. The determined look on his face was one a warrior takes into battle, a soldier on a suicide mission.
Relentlessly, he drove me higher and higher, faster than I thought possible to a shattering climax. It was not equal in any way; I was helpless under the onslaught of sensation and emotion he ransomed from me. He didn’t need a flogger or a crop to beat me into submission, or even the open palm of his hand.
I was his, completely. If it was a mistake, I would own it. Someday. Today was all I could think about.
“Fuck, Zoe, I love you!”
My throat was dry, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth as I tried to swallow. I knew better than I trust words spoken with such passion, but he’d never lied to me before. My heart, along with the rest of my body, exploded.
Fireworks.
19
Nathan
“Have you ever considered therapy?”
It was a fair question, but it still made me want to punch self-help guru extraordinaire Marcus Blake in the throat.
“I live in Manhattan and I’m rich. Of course I’ve considered therapy. But who has time?”
Marcus narrowed his eyes at me over the chef’s table at the back of Settlement. “You have time for this,” he pointed out.
It was Billionaire Book Club night, but we were down a few billionaires. Silas was in Vegas, Viktor was… Viktor, and who knew where the new guy Luke was. I made time for “this,” because it was the only time I spent with other successful men who weren’t total douchebags. When you had money, everybody wanted something. However, when you were on a level playing field with people who were leaders in totally different businesses, it all evened out.
“Can we still call this a club if there are only two of us here?” I asked, sliding the giant bottle of hot sauce from hand to hand across the stainless steel table.
