Resisting Nick

by Kris Pearson

CHAPTER FOURTEEN — A CLOSE SHAVE

  She held the bra between two fingers, gave it a sexy little swish, and tossed it through onto the bedroom carpet.

  “Get in the bath,” he repeated, hoarse entreaty in his voice.

  “But I’ve still got my panties on,” she teased, stepping close enough for him to peel them down. If he hadn’t been coated in shaving foam he’d have buried his face between her thighs the moment he uncovered her. Instead, he consoled himself by grabbing her hand so she couldn’t escape again.

  “Get in here with me right now,” he ground out.

  She stepped out of her pretty panties and kicked them towards the doorway, then lifted a small foot and set it down between his thighs. Only then did he believe it would happen.

  “I wonder how we’re both going to fit?” She sent him a wide eyed mock-innocent grin.

  “We’ll manage.” He tugged on her hand to encourage her to take the last step.

  She sank down through the bubbles. The water rose higher up his chest. At last she was where he wanted her, but just to make sure he looped his legs around her waist and pulled her closer until they were face to face. “Are you really going to do this?” he asked.

  Sammie nodded and reached out for the razor. After a few seconds’ intense concentration she cradled the side of his head in her hand and tilted it back.

  “Stay just like that.” Her fingers moved to his neck, held the skin taut. The razor slid around his chin and bit gently into his beard.

  “Ha,” she murmured. “No worries. You didn’t think I could, did you?”

  She reached sideways and swished it in the bowl to clean it. Another firm grip. Another expert glide downward. The steam swirled around them, and in the silent apartment Nick heard the faint scrape of his stubble capitulating. The blade dragged slightly against his skin. He wondered how long the edge would hold. He was totally in her hands—and the feeling was amazing.

  She rinsed the razor again, and leaned closer to select the site for her next pass. Nick closed his eyes to intensify the feeling. Again she pulled his skin taut, again she guided the blade with the grain.

  “I don’t think this shaving foam is as good as Grandpa’s English shaving soap,” she said. “Not as slippery. You’d enjoy it more if we had some of that.”

  Nick couldn’t imagine enjoying anything more than this. The feel of her hands on him, the glide of the blade, the soft swishing as she rinsed it, all combined into a sensuous ritual that excited as much as it soothed.

  After several more long slow strokes and a couple of short scary ones under his nose, she picked up the washcloth and wiped half his face clean. “No blood,” she teased, running her fingers over his skin. She reached out for the mirror and held it so he could check her work. “Okay?”

  He turned his head from side to side. He had to admit she’d done well. So well he’d forgotten about Brian and Gaynor and his twisted adoption for a while. She was certainly some distraction, but now his past had crept back into his mind again to niggle and abrade at him. “How long since your grandmother died?” he asked.

  Her face showed surprise at his sudden change of subject. “Eleven years or so. Why?”

  “Just wondering what sort of power she had over the old bastard to make him return me during the holidays so she could check my progress. What the hell was her connection? There’s got to be one.”

  Sammie shrugged. A pretty breast rose and fell each side of the mirror she held up for him. Bubbles clung to her skin. He reached out to touch, cupped her gently, and couldn’t resist running his thumbs across her dusky nipples.

  She smiled and swapped the mirror for the razor. “Ready for the rest?”

  When he didn’t respond, she reached down with her free hand and found his cock. That sharpened his attention in a hurry.

  Just before midnight, Sammie sighed and stretched, conscious Nick needed to leave soon. She rubbed a bare foot over his calf and enjoyed the sensation of soft hair over firm muscle.

  The apartment was quiet and dark, finally tranquil after several intense and passionate hours.

  She smiled, listening to his breath flowing in and out. Occasionally he stirred or snuffled—a man at peace, at last able to escape from the torment and upheaval of his recent wrenching discovery. At least she’d been able to give him that.

  She shouldn’t have gone to his parents’ home. His adoption was none of her business, and she hadn’t been the least help anyway. It was too much of a personal connection to him, and she’d vowed not to get entangled.

  And as for joking about shaving him while they sat in his car once they’d left—look what that had led to!

  But it felt intoxicating being able to do exactly what she wanted, when she wanted, with no concerns about Grandpa, querulous and worried, waiting for her to return home. And with no unease he might fall and hurt himself if she went out. She’d loved him very dearly, but her duty toward him was now complete.

  So why, now she was free, had she started looking after another man? Consoling Nick, and putting herself in danger of falling for him?

  She grimaced at her deceitful description of ‘consoling’. She’d made him a straight-out lustful proposition of sex last night. She was fooling herself pretending there was an element of friendly consolation. She’d made the first move and he’d followed all too willingly.

  Why had she made such a terrible choice? Her boss!

  And more than her boss. Her fascinating old partner in crime, too. The boy who’d stolen her heart all those years ago and somehow kept a corner of it. The boy who’d first stirred feelings that were dangerous and thrilling and secret. And who now stirred feelings too deep and special to admit—even to herself.

  Just as well he’d be out of town tomorrow—it would give her a day to try and regain her equilibrium. A day and a night, because she’d booked his flight back to Wellington as late as possible so he could dine with friends.

  And maybe she should do the same? She decided to see if Anita and Ray were free, and treat them to dinner as a thank you for letting her stay with them. It might have to be takeaways though, because their sons had school next day.

  “You trying to wake me up?” Nick murmured, responding to her questing toes.

  “I guess you need to go home and pack a bag for Auckland.” She snuggled a little closer, hating the thought of him leaving.

  “Hand luggage. Just my briefcase.”

  It felt magic to be curled against him, protected and warmed by his big body. She’d never in her twenty-six years spent a whole night asleep beside a man. “Do you want to stay?” she heard herself suggest. “I can set the alarm for early.”

  Sammie, you’re crazy. Don’t make this harder than it already is.

  “I’ll wake. I’m an early riser.”

  She just bet he was...

  “Hmmm...” she hummed sleepily, overcome with delicious languor at the thought of spending hours cuddled up with him. “G’night then.”

  Nick must have made check-in with only moments to spare. Sammie smiled as she trekked up the stairs to BodyWork, remembering why he’d ended up in a mad dash an hour earlier.

  His fault. Absolutely his fault. If he hadn’t insisted they’d showered together he’d have been out of the apartment much earlier, into his business clothes much earlier, into his seat on the plane much earlier. Instead he’d just been into her. And she really had to do something about it.

  Waking to feel the weight of a well muscled arm around her waist, finding she was tucked back against a very aroused man who smelled like sin and sex, she’d spent a few slightly panicked moments wondering if she’d died and gone to heaven.

  No, no dying required. Heaven available in big hot chunks.

  “Come and wash me down,” he’d suggested, pushing the bedcovers back and standing rampant in the dawn half-light.

  Sammie snapped on the bedside lamp. Oh. My. God.

  “You start washing, I’ll make coffee,” she countered,
knowing how much he liked a caffeine hit as soon as he arrived at BodyWork. She’d found Kelly’s coffee machine concealed in one of the lower cupboards.

  “Deal. But don’t be long.” He sauntered through to the en suite bathroom while she scurried out to the kitchen. She made use of the guest toilet while the coffee brewed, and soon returned with two white mugs wafting deep dark coffee aromas.

  “In there or out here?”

  “In here.”

  She carried the mugs into the bathroom and set them down on the vanity. Nick stood under the shower jets, soaping up. “You’re managing perfectly well without me,” she said, stopping a moment to admire the view through the glass shower wall.

  A long arm shot out and grabbed her wrist. “Need my back scrubbed. Might need my front scrubbed, too.”

  Sammie quickly shucked her robe. He drew her in under the shower and pulled her close. Half blinded by the pelting water, she shut her eyes and felt his lips glide down the side of her face to the corner of her mouth. His slippery hands cupped her breasts, squeezing gently, massaging her nipples until they beaded into tight peaks. At last he kissed her, long and deep, hungry and hot.

  “Give me the soap then,” she agreed when he released her. Every sense had come alive. Her skin felt super-aware. Nick’s own scent swirled through the hot damp air. The soap added another layer of fragrance. The rush of the water, his murmured suggestions of ‘touch me, touch me’ sank into her ears. She moved a little aside to get her face out of the water. Through spiky lashes she watched as Nick turned his back to her and leaned against the shower wall, feet braced apart. How could she resist him? Simply not possible.

  Switching off the water she ran the soap across his shoulders, kneading his slippery skin with her other hand, making him grunt with pleasure. Slowly down his spine, pushing into the lines of defined muscle either side. Over his cute butt, now clenched tight. Down and around his thighs and calves, hard and hairy and male.

  “Turn around, Nick.”

  And front-on he looked even better. She soaped over his chest, pushing her hands up to his neck, out over his shoulders, down through the dark hair that covered his pecs. And then down his long streamlined torso to his ever-hopeful cock and heavy balls.

  She watched his eyelids droop closed, and she set the soap aside. Now both her hands kneaded and massaged together, gentler where they needed to be. He groaned as she teased him, cock jerking in her hands as she stroked up and down his length.

  “I want that inside you,” he growled, opening his eyes and fixing them on hers.

  “There’s no time, Nick. You won’t even get your coffee. You’ll miss your plane.”

  “I can get another flight.”

  “No—you have appointments to keep.”

  “I’ve got one hell of a hard-on and need to come.”

  She bit her lip at his forthright description, and her internal muscles clenched in delicious quivers just thinking about it. She handed him the soap. “Lather me up and then we’ll rinse off together.”

  “We could do it right here.”

  “Not a hope. We’re too slippery. You haven’t got a condom. And there’s still no time.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he growled, making a rapid assault on her, soaping and caressing her all over as she slithered against him, laughing and squealing.

  He turned the water back on, lifted the shower head from its holder and rinsed her off, then aimed it at his chest. Sammie escaped, grabbed a towel, and did her best to blot herself dry. Nick burst out of the bathroom seconds later, making only the most cursory effort with his towel before he sheathed himself.

  She scrambled up onto the bed, giggling as she tried to escape. In a flash, he’d caught her around the waist and pulled her back against him. She felt his cock slide between her thighs, rubbing in her slippery juices. God, she was so turned on! He pulled away, adjusted his angle, and drove in, deep and sure.

  Sammie curved over and laid her forehead on the bed, absorbing the sensation of the different position. Then his hand dipped low and found her clit.

  “Come for me first,” he whispered, rubbing as he pumped slowly and sweetly. “I want to feel your muscles grabbing me.”

  She trembled all over as her nerve endings responded to his insistent rhythm. “I can’t...do it to order,” she protested.

  “Yes you can. Just a quickie. Come for me now.”

  He thrust faster, fondling with slick fingers. Sammie squeezed her eyes closed. The warm tide of orgasm lapped closer. Seconds later, she gulped a huge breath as everything tightened and tightened, and finally released in deep surging spasms. Nick climaxed a moment behind her, breath hissing through his teeth, and then escaping in a long low groan of satisfaction.