Nico: Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance (Adamo Bodyguards Book 1)

by Mia Madison

  Everyone who’s still in the room has backed away, giving Nico plenty of room to deal with the student on the floor. He has the guy’s arms pinned with one big hand, and with the other he’s checking the inside of his backpack. Every couple of seconds, his eyes sweep the room.

  This whole scene is giving me all sorts of feelings, emotional and otherwise. My tingles have tingles. If I thought Nico was hot before … wowser.

  Finding nothing in the backpack — so I assume, at least, since he tosses it down and proceeds to ignore it — my bodyguard hauls the guy to his feet, keeping one of his arms twisted up behind him, and says to me, “You know him?”

  I bite my lip; Nico’s eyes flick to my mouth, and then it’s pure reflex to lick my lips. It’s a nervous gesture, but the banked heat in his eyes says that doesn’t matter. “His name’s Jeff,” I tell him. “I’ve seen him in class, but we’ve never spoken.”

  “Can I talk?” Jeff says. His voice is a little strained, which I don’t blame him for, given the situation and the way Nico’s holding him, which can’t be entirely comfortable.

  “Sure,” Nico says, in that smooth, easy, good ol’ boy voice that no longer fools me even a little bit.

  “I’m with the student paper.” His eyes come to me, and I see the silent plea in them. “I was going to ask you for an interview.”

  I can’t help my moue of distaste. “I don’t do interviews. Sorry.”

  “Not even—” Jeff starts, and Nico must tighten his hold a fraction, because he breaks off abruptly, his face going pale. “No interviews. Got it.”

  “No means no,” Nico says to him. “Which means you won’t try again if I’m not around, or send her an email, or anything else.”

  “Right. No contact.” The poor guy’s sweating now. “I understand.”

  Before Nico, I probably would have thought Jeff was kind of cute, in a clean-cut, average way. The type of fellow student I might want to date. Now, he just seems wimpy and pathetic.

  I’m starting to worry that no other man will ever measure up to my hot Adamo bodyguard. And that’s a problem, because once this situation is over, I won’t be seeing Nico anymore.

  Shoving that thought aside, I give him a look that tries to communicate: All done here, so can you let the poor fellow go now? It must work, because he releases Jeff, patting him a little too hard on the shoulder. “See you around.”

  “Yeah,” Jeff says with a wince, rolling his shoulder and reaching down to pick up his backpack.

  Nico comes back to me and puts a hand at the small of my back. “Ladies,” he says, and powers me past the mean girls like they’re not even there. I manage not to smirk, but just barely.

  “Friends of yours?” he asks me when we’re outside, in that barely-audible voice he’s so good at.

  “Not even close. They’re the catty, gossipy type who like to put everyone else down.”

  “Wanna make ’em jealous?”

  From the corner of my eye, I can see the trio trailing after us, not even pretending not to stare. Every nerve ending in my body is alight at the prospect of putting on the girlfriend act with Nico. “Naughty boy.”

  “I’m here to serve.”

  The mischievous gleam in his eye is irresistible. For once in my life, I don’t carefully evaluate an action before taking it. I just go up on my toes, loop my arms around his neck, and kiss him.

  There’s a split second of delay, like he wasn’t expecting me to make the first move. Then his arms lock around me, and the first kiss he gave me suddenly seems like a peck on the cheek.

  The heat of the sun on my back is nothing compared to the furnace of Nico’s body. I’m sheltered in the vee of his massive thighs, my breasts pressed against his broad chest. He has one hand curled around the back of my neck, and the other as low on my spine as it can go without being on my ass.

  His scent winds around me, seductive and sensual. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, and I open to him with a rush of heat between my legs. The power of his kiss, the hunger in it, sends lust roaring through my veins.

  I moan into his mouth, a frantic, needy little sound I can’t contain. That’s when he disengages, slowly, and looks down at me, still holding me close.

  His eyes are blazing with heat, and something else. Something that makes my heart tremble like a butterfly’s new wings, tentative and beautiful and oh so fragile.

  “Hi,” I say. It comes out all breathy, like I’m a starstruck groupie, and I don’t even care.

  “Do you have any more classes today?”

  Boom. My fantasy crumbles into dust. He told me, straight out, that the purpose of that kiss was to make the mean girls jealous. Why didn’t I listen?

  This is just a job to Nico. He probably flirts with clients all the time. Romances them. Fucks them.

  Maybe it makes me a fool, but I’m almost ready not to care. Ready to be one more notch on his bedpost.

  If all that’s going to be left of my time with Nico Adamo is memories, I might as well make them good ones.

  “Juliet,” he says impatiently.

  Usually, I am the most grounded person I know. Ever since I met Nico, my hormones have taken over my brain. “No more classes today.”

  “Good.” He takes my hand again. I’m still not used to how my body reacts to him touching me. My panties are wet from that kiss, and getting wetter from nothing more than holding his hand and walking across campus.

  The girls from class are still watching us, and I think I see more than a trace of envy on their faces. I’m not sorry. Let them be the ones missing out for once.

  The late afternoon sun is gentle on our faces as we cross the parking lot. Nico doesn’t talk, and though he’s not obvious about it, I can tell he’s on the alert, monitoring our surroundings. I would have sworn, before Nico, that overprotective alpha males were not my type.

  He gets us in the SUV and takes off, still without saying a word. The silent act is not so hot now. “Where are we going?”

  Nico flashes storm-dark eyes at me. “My place.” That’s all he says before he turns his attention back to the road.

  What the hell? None of this is my fault. He shouldn’t be taking it out on me. “What’s your problem?”

  A growl rumbles from his throat before he whips the car down a side street, into a grungy industrial neighborhood. Moments later, we’re parked under an overpass in what seems to be a completely deserted area.

  I’m confused. Is he evading pursuit? Is there some kind of danger?

  Before I can ask, he undoes my seat belt, hauls me close and kisses me again with barely-contained fury. I kiss him back with all my unpracticed need, and he shifts me until I’m straddling him. His hands dive under my top to shape my breasts, his thumbs flicking over my nipples.

  My breath turns ragged. There’s no one around to see us; this is no act. When he finally breaks off, my heart is thundering in my chest and my panties are soaked.

  “You push my buttons, babe. Fuck if you don’t.” He plants tiny kisses at the corner of my mouth, then sips at me, his sudden gentleness in aching contrast to what just happened. “I wanted to drag you down to the ground back there and fuck you silly in front of everyone.”

  “Nico,” I breathe. I don’t have the words for situations like this, no practice in sexy talk. All I can offer is unadorned truth. “I want you too.”

  “I know, princess.” Somehow, the word doesn’t bother me as much now. Maybe because he says it with a tenderness that makes my heart feel bruised.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he goes on. “We both know better. But I want you riding my cock.”

  All my inner muscles clench at his words, like they’re trying desperately to make them reality. There’s no doubt what my body wants — and the rest of me, too. Even though it’s a very bad idea.

  This can never be anything but a wild fling, one of those torrid, forbidden affairs you read about in gossip magazines. We have nothing in common except chemistry. If we get caught, there
’ll be fallout from all directions.

  I’m past caring.

  “Do you have any roommates?”

  A dark fire kindles in his eyes. “Just me, babe.”

  I never swear. But there’s only one word that fits right now. “Will you take me home and fuck me?”

  He closes his eyes like I’ve hurt him. My heart quails. It took all my courage to say those words; if he turns me down, I’ll never ask again.

  Then he opens them and says, “Ground rules.” My pulse starts to race. “This can only be sex. No feelings allowed.”

  “I know.”

  “You can’t tell anyone. Not even your very best friend.”

  “I know.” I’m a politician’s kid; I understand about managing a public image, about controlling the flow of information.

  His hand squeezes my breast. “I’m bossy in bed.”

  “What a shock.” I almost roll my eyes.

  “Careful, princess.” Nico pulls me in for a quick, hard kiss. “You’ve already got one spanking on your balance sheet.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “You are not spanking me.”

  “Babe. By the time I’m done with you, you’re gonna beg me to spank your ass. And then fuck it.”

  My pucker clenches too. “Your ego could fill the Grand Canyon, you know that?”

  Nico grins at me. “It ain’t braggin’ if it’s true, darlin’.” Said in his best Sam Shepard voice.

  “You’re impossible.”

  “I know.” He turns serious. “Still want me to take you home and fuck you?”

  This is going to be hard, and I don’t mean his cock. The more I talk to Nico, the more likable he is. Keeping my emotions walled off won’t be easy.

  But I know he’s right. Letting myself have feelings for him beyond the physical would be the stupidest thing I could possibly do. We probably have, at most, a few days together, and then we’ll never see each other again.

  I have to treat this as an adventure. Like a sex-themed vacation. A brief moment out of time when I can learn about physical pleasure with an incredibly gorgeous man who, it’s already obvious, will be happy to teach me anything and everything.

  Leaning forward, I do my best to channel my inner player. “You’re on, hot stuff.”

  6

  Halle-fuckin’-lujah

  I make sure we’re not being followed on the way to my place, but I still get there in record time. This may be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t care. Something about this girl gets under my skin, and the only way to get her out again is to fuck her out.

  I’ve done it before, scratched an itch until it stopped. I give as good as I get, then ease away before the woman starts picking out his and hers towels. But I’ve never fucked a client.

  It’s a monumentally bad idea to get involved with someone I’m protecting. She’ll distract me, split my focus. It’s dangerous.

  But I know if I don’t do this, reckless as it is, I’ll regret it. I’ll be lying on my deathbed thinking, I wonder what ever happened to Juliet North. Sure wish I’d hit that when I had the chance.

  I’ll just have to be careful. Fuck her brains out when we’re safe at home, and the rest of the time, keep her at a distance. It’ll work.

  It has to.

  I live in a modest house in a modest neighborhood. It suits me; I don’t need a palace. Grabbing Juliet’s suitcase from the back seat, I hustle her inside and reset the alarm.

  She looks around the living room, but doesn’t move from my side. When I’m done, I turn to her. Her breasts rise and fall in an uneven rhythm for several long beats before she puts her hands on my chest and lifts her eyes.

  It’s a question and an answer in one.

  Dropping her luggage, I pick her up with my hands under her ass and pin her against the door. Her hands tunnel into my hair; my mouth crashes down on hers.

  She tastes like sweet, spicy wine.

  I drink her down like a man at a desert oasis who’s been parched for years. My hands knead that delicious ass, shaping it through her jeans. Grinding my belt buckle against her clit, I take the kiss deeper.

  She’s making those little noises again, the ones that go straight to my cock. I set her on the floor, bending with her to keep our mouths connected, and rip her jeans open.

  Her panties are soaked. I tangle one hand in her hair to keep her head tilted back, then cup her with the other, working the heel against her clit before I slide my hand inside the plain cotton fabric and part her folds. Fuck, she’s wet.

  When I push a finger inside her, she’s so tight it almost makes me come. She stills for a moment, and the tiny, pained sound that escapes her stops me too. She clenches around me, gripping and releasing, and I slowly pull my finger back, then slide it in again.

  Her hips start to move, inviting me in, taking me deeper. I get my thumb on her clit and plunge my finger up her pussy in sync with my tongue in her mouth. After a few seconds of that, she’s so slippery that I work another finger into her, swallowing her moan, and pump my fingers, slowly, then hard and fast, then rub her clit some more, alternating between the two. I’m determined to make her come, to feel her honey all over my hand.

  When she tightens around me, I finger-fuck her harder, faster, until she screams into my mouth, her body shaking and shuddering through her release. Slowly, reluctantly, I break the kiss, but leave my fingers inside her.

  Her lips are swollen, her pupils huge. My cock is the size of Mount Everest.

  The need to be inside her is a drumbeat in my blood, but I’m not ready to let her go. I move my fingers in her pussy slowly, steadily, and the look on her face is even better than I imagined. Fuck, I could do this forever.

  Finally, I pull my hand free and lick her off my fingers, luxuriating in the taste. She watches me do it, and her trembling, indrawn breath almost wrecks me. Picking her up, I carry her into the bathroom, setting her down to turn on the tap in the sunken tub.

  While the hot water steams up the air, I undress her one piece of clothing at a time, kissing her skin as I expose it, licking the salt from the crook of her elbow, the hollow behind her knee. There’s a fine tremor running through her body, and her breathing is shallow and rapid. I turn off the tap, test the water, and help her into the tub.

  She looks up, shy but expectant. Last chance. I can do the sensible thing and walk away right now.

  But who am I kidding? My good sense went out the window the moment I laid eyes on Juliet North.

  I peel off my t-shirt; Juliet’s gaze never leaves me. Folding it up lengthwise, I go behind her and tie it around her eyes, tightly enough that it won’t slip loose. It makes a wide, multi-layered blindfold that should do a good job of blocking her vision.

  Stripping off the rest of my clothing, I slip into the bath and sit down facing her. She’s got her back against the side of the tub where it curves on one end. The water laps at her breasts, and I’m jealous. Of fucking bathwater.

  Reaching out a hand, I run it along the outside of her leg, from her hip down to her knee. Her breath catches. I do the same thing to her other leg with my other hand.

  “Close your eyes, babe.”

  “How did you know they were open?”

  “Maybe I’m getting to know you.” She blushes. “Are they closed?”

  “Yes.”

  Slowly, I move one of her legs, then the other, so that her feet are on my shoulders. “Lean your head back until it’s resting on the rim of the tub. Good. Now, keep your eyes closed.”

  I get my hands under her ass. She gasps; I can see how fast her pulse is beating in her throat. If I were a vampire, my fangs would be out right now. As it is, something else is protruding.

  When I start to lift her hips, her arms flail out and grab the sides of the tub for support. I move in a little closer, then lift some more, then scoot in again, until her knees are draped over my shoulders, her body’s almost horizontal, and her pussy’s right in front of my face.

  Perfect.

&nbs
p; Bending my head, I breathe her in. Juliet makes a small sound and shifts in my grasp. “Are your eyes open, princess?”

  “I want to see,” she says, a bit petulantly.

  “There’ll be plenty of time to see later. Closing off one sense intensifies the others, and right now, I want you to focus on what you’re feeling. Trust me, babe.”

  She sighs, but relaxes again. Taking another deep breath, I fill my own senses with the intimate perfume of her flesh, with the silk of her skin beneath my hands, with the softness of her pussy, waiting for my hardness.

  And then I lick her open.

  Juliet jerks in my hold. I don’t respond, just keep savoring every taste of her. Her panting breaths, her gasps and moans and whimpers, make my cock ache with need, but I don’t rush.

  I lick, suck, work my tongue inside her, nibble her slippery folds. Every bit of her is delicious, but I’m saving the best for last. My explorations take me up around her clit, as close as I can get without actually touching it, until she’s had enough.

  “Nico.” She sounds like she’s about to cry. “Nico, please.”

  “Please what?”

  Juliet twists, her hips undulating. Fuck, if she could see herself. So fucking sexy. “Please!” she begs.

  I’m gonna make her beg for more than oral before I’m through with her. “You mean this?” I flutter my tongue over the hood of her clit.

  Her hips shoot up. “Yes!”

  “Good girls ask nicely. With their words.”

  “Nico!” It comes out a frustrated almost-scream.

  “Tell me what you want, babe.”

  “I’m going to kill you.”

  I decide I’ve pushed her far enough — for now — and press a soft kiss right where she wants me. Her chest is heaving, but she doesn’t say anything else. I run my tongue all around her clit, then give her another flutter.

  The desperate noise that comes from deep inside her almost makes me shoot my load. My patience evaporates like morning vapor in sunlight. I want — need — to make her come. Now.

  I suck her clit into my mouth, my hands under her ass to hold her tightly against me, and go all out. No stopping — not when her legs kick, not when her hips thrust her against me, not when she cries out my name. Not until her body tightens and her hips buck, rapid-fire, with her orgasm.