I grin, and while I absently scratch behind Bucky’s ears, the story unfolds, all details included.
She shares with me what happened at the park, too, interjecting pertinent moments here and there.
And when she tells me that he implied he’d be sticking around for a while with his You might have company exit-line, I cast a smile to Bucky’s sleeping face.
“It’s all because of you, boy,” I whisper.
“I think it was before that, Maddie. Whatever you said to Nicholas in Billy’s old bedroom, made him bring you a drink and stick around.” Denise opens her iPad again. Pointing to the glowing time on her screen, she cocks an eyebrow. “He’s going to be here in a half hour.”
Yelping, I wake up the dog, jumping into action. “I need to shower! Sorry, Bucky! Oh God, I need to shower!” Running to my bedroom where I left the phone, I send a quick text saying I need fifteen more minutes.
He replies back: No worries, Slugger.
Biting my bottom lip with a smile at his quick, cute response, I stare at it a second longer, then dash off.
“Whoa,” I blurt at my terrifying reflection. “He wants to date this? Denise! DENISE!!!”
She comes running, skidding into view, gripping the bathroom door jamb to stop her velocity, eyes wide. “What is it?”
I circle my face with a hasty, disgusted finger. “Dude.”
Her worry drops. “You look better than you did, trust me.”
“I need your help.”
Crossing her arms she dryly jokes, “You want me to bathe you? Because that’s where I draw the line.”
“I need you to help me look my best.”
Waving her hand toward the shower she says, “Get in there and wash off that yuck!”
As soon as I’m out, she’s got a counter-height stool waiting for me. “Sit.”
Drying off I sigh, “I can’t stop thinking about rent.”
My dear friend eyes me. “Honey, does anyone make good decisions when they’re unhappy?”
Blinking, I think about it. “No.”
“What you need is some fun! You’ve been in a depression. Shake that shit off! We’ll figure out what to do about your money situation. Now what are we doing here?”
Wrapping the towel and hooking it over my breasts I sit down, both of us facing the mirror. “I just want to look more like the best me. But not too much of anything, because that’s not me, you know?”
“I hear ya, Madison. You’re never gonna go to all the trouble I do. You just want to be…fresher.”
“Exactly.”
She grabs the dryer. “What if you worked at my store? I bet I could talk Leah into hiring you.” She flicks a look to me and turns it on, picking heavy wet strands from my bare shoulders.
“I would do that, but you’d have to help me dress. Maybe go through my wardrobe and come up with some variations I haven’t thought of?”
“You mean all of them?” she teases me. As she blow dries my hair, Denise explains, “You’ve gotta look at your features and step back from all the things you think you know. Ask, what are my best attributes? What am I most proud of? I’m talking about makeup now—we’ll do clothes when we have at least ten months to prep.”
“Har har.”
She laughs, but quickly goes back to teaching me, “You have full lips so you want to accentuate that. If you had smaller ones, you’d probably work on your eyes more, add some lashes, all that jazz. Your cheeks need some color—everyone looks better with some color, highlight over the top of your bone, some contour underneath—but not too much. You should never see behind the curtain. Makeup should blend, and not draw too much attention to itself. Even if you wear a lot—like I do—it’s always blended well so that it flows, you get me?”
“I’m not going through the trouble of a highlighter and contour, I can tell you that.”
Throwing me a droll look in the mirror, she pauses, then continues. “For someone like you, who doesn’t think this is as fun as I do, all you need are three things.”
“Oh good.”
“No, five.”
“Five?”
“Six.”
“Denise!”
Waving the brush at me, she demands, “You want my help or not?”
Slumping I stifle a smile, “I do.”
“Then hush up!” She goes back to blow drying my hair into submission. “Number one: sunscreen, sunscreen, sunscreen. You want to look like you’re thirty when you’re forty? Sunscreen! Ever leave something in the sun and see how much it faded? That’s your skin!” She pauses. “One-point-five: Powder to cover the shine if there is any, but not a lot, and only on the places where you’re naturally oily. A dewy glow is good.”
Unplugging the blowdryer, she wraps the cord around it with expert speed, and shoves it under my sink. “But since it’s nighttime, we’re skipping that and jumping straight to item number two: a little mascara.” She digs around for some, and turns to do the job while teaching me. “Apply by slowly blinking on purpose. Drag your lashes over the wand, not the other way around. This curls them. Slowly, slowly, like this. If you want more of the effect, you bend your lashes back just a bit—not a lot! Because mascara is wet, they become malleable, and when it dries fast, your lashes will stay curled.”
“Huh.”
“Three: fill in those brows. Since you’re not an expert, use some powdered eyeshadow the color of your eyebrow. It’s more forgiving than a liner. Apply a light amount with a firm brush. You can always add more. What you want to do is follow the natural contour of your existing brow. Don’t get crazy. Stay within the lines, and maybe draw the end longer in the exact direction it’s already pointing. See? Same way I did this on your date night. Only that night I had a shitload of eyeliner on you, which we’re skipping today.”
Studying her brow technique I nod and hum—doesn’t look as hard to do as I thought.
“Four: apply some blush right over the apples of your cheeks when you smile.” I fake-grin for her and she brushes some on while I watch in the mirror. “Not a lot, just where you can see it. Most people do a contour underneath, but since you like to go natural, you just want a healthy glow.”
“Okay, thank you.”
All business, she continues, “Five: a little trick. Since you won’t do highlighter, apply lotion right here on your laugh lines, and along the high point of your cheekbones. Never put powder here. You can put it here, by your nose, but not under this outside part of your eyes. Even if it looks like you swam in vaseline. Blot it with a tissue instead. This area isn’t naturally moisturized. You want your crows feet accentuated?”
“I don’t have any yet.”
“You want to invite them to show up?”
“No.”
“Moisturize here and you’re ahead of the game. And it catches in the light and will also double as a highlighter.”
“Nice,” I murmur, turning my head.
“And sex, I mean six.” She winks at me, digging around and producing the magenta lipstick she gave me. “Lips lips lips. Make him look at these as often as you can. Your eyes are second.”
Laughing I argue, “I don’t know about that.”
“Trust me. Your man loves your eyes, but his cock loves your lips more. Wake it up for constant satisfaction.” I crack up, and she stares at my reflection with a smile. “There’s my girl. Good to see you back.” As she concentrates on applying my lipstick for me, she mutters, “Guess picking up that dog’s huge poop was good for something.”
CHAPTER 32
8:18 P.M.
N ICHOLAS
She opens the door wearing jeans and a snug t-shirt—just like what I’ve got on.
Movie-watching clothes.
Her face is fresh and bright, eyes sharp as she jokes, “You’re late.”
I pull her to me. “God it’s good to see you smile.” Her expression flickers, hesitantly pleased, and she tilts her head up. “Don’t mind if I do,” I murmur, leaning in to give her the kiss she wants. On
e of my hands slides up her back as our tongues touch, the other one firmly gripping her hip. She relaxes, leaning closer, breasts soft and pressed into my sore muscles. The workout I got in before running this morning was a rough one, and the ache feels good.
A sigh travels from her lips, and I smile while pulling away to greet her friend. “Hey Denise. You still here?”
She juts her hip out, throws a fist on it. “I’ll always be here.” Pointing two orange fingernails from her eyes to mine, she warns me, “I’ll be watching you. Forever.”
Chuckling, “Noted,” I take Madison’s hand.
“You staying here?” Maddie asks her.
Denise shrugs, “If I go home I’ll be doing the same thing. Might as well have Bucky as company. I have to work in the morning though, so I’ll stay at my place. Unless you want me to stick around and help you lick your wounds when this one…” she jogs her orange thumb my way, “…acts like a dumbass again.”
Maddie rolls her eyes up to me. “She’s joking.”
“Hell I am!”
Grinning I go to open the door. “Denise, you wanna come to Louisiana with us next weekend?”
Both women blink at me. Madison asks, “What, Louisiana? I don’t get it.”
“My cousin is getting married. I need a date.” Maddie’s eyes widen. Tossing back the same tone she gave me, I tell Denise, “And apparently my date needs a chaperone for such a long distance out of sight.” Chuckling at their combined confusion, I say, “Seriously, you’re both invited. It’ll be fun. Bucky can come. It’s a huge property though, so you’ll have to keep an eye on him.”
Denise dryly says, “Speaking of.”
Bucky is making a run for it, out into the hallway. “Whoa!” I rush out, catch him and bring him back, laughing, “A leash will be necessary!”
Madison is staring at me with this mystified, hopeful look on her face. So transparent, and right now, I’m thankful for that. I’m taking a leap here, and Mom’s right—it might be me who gets hurt.
Blocking the door so Bucky can’t try that slick move again, I say, “We should get going. He knows you’re leaving, and he doesn’t like it.”
She comes to me, rests her hand on the side of my face, and kisses my lips really softly. “Okay.”
There’s that word again.
Simple.
Powerful.
Music to my ears.
She grabs her purse from the coffee table, then her keys from where they slid between her sofa cushions, and nods to Denise with a happy smile. “See you later, D.”
Orange fingernails wave from behind a naughty smile. “Have fun, beautiful girl. Have way too much fun!”
CHAPTER 33
N ICHOLAS
I n my apartment, I close the door and watch Madison glance around with appreciation shining from her eyes.
“Nice place. You can tell a guy lives here. No frills. Not a lot of knick-knacks. I like it.”
I toss my keys in a bowl. “The only thing that was important to me when I furnished it was having a comfortable couch. My Uncle Jake and Aunt Drew have this overstuffed sectional I always loved sitting on. I found one just like it, same color and everything. My cousins called me out on it when they came here for my house-warming.” I do an impression of them, “That’s our couch! You stole our sofa, you thief!”
To test it out, she bounces a couple times and smiles at me. “Did you tell them you really did steal it?”
“Of course I did.”
“I would have.” At the changed look in my eyes, she pauses. “My breasts just bounced, didn’t they?”
My voice deepens. “They did.”
She tilts her chin toward the cushion, gesturing for me to join her. “What do you want to watch?”
Snatching the remote from an accent table, I stroll over and take a seat beside her. Fully committed to keeping my hands to myself, I ask, “You in the mood for a comedy?”
“Always.”
As we stare at my ‘invisible-screen’, movie choices zipping by, the scent of feminine shampoo drifts into my nose, just like it did in the car. Enjoying the freshness of her, the nearness and warmth of her, I breathe it in but keep my eyes on the screen.
“See anything you like, Slugger?”
I glance down as her hand slides up my thigh, over my crotch, and holds there. My eyebrows are up as I meet her gaze.
“I can’t see anything through these jeans, Nicholas. Why don’t you take them off?”
A short, surprised laugh bursts out, and questions are in my eyes. Madison answers them by dropping her eyelashes to watch as she gives my dick a couple of slow rubs.
He awakes with a start, shouting, “About time!”
Down buddy, not too fast.
“I want her!”
I know. I do, too.
Voice soft, Maddie asks, rubbing once more, “What are you waiting for? You need a more direct invitation?”
Taking her hand I rub again as my length grows, eyelids growing heavier with need.
Now can I have her?
Maybe.
Madison climbs on top of my lap, straddling me. She grips the hem of her t-shirt, tugs it over her head, revealing a black bra as she shakes her sweet-smelling hair out. “You’re invited.”
Now can I have her?
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Groaning, I take in the view of ample flesh rising and falling with her breathing, sloped beautifully atop her overstuffed bra.
I massage her fluffy mounds, thumb these taut nipples with hungry dedication, the silky fabric a tease between us.
Dipping down, I kiss the exposed flesh as her fingers shyly slide into my hair, drifting down my neck.
Rapid goosebumps light up skin, inspiring a shiver as I cup her, slide one impatient hand around, unsnap this barrier, slide it off, freeing her.
Moldable breasts tumble into view and my breath catches.
In response, Madison bravely arches just a little, slightly thrusting her gorgeous chest out, nipples aroused.
As I massage her, she starts to yield to me, our eyes locked. I buck my hips up, crash our crotches into each other. The pressure is pure thirst.
Her eyelashes dip as she gulps.
It feels like I found the key to a door she’s kept carefully hidden from everyone but me. Everything happened so fast in that warehouse, and it was dark—we were distracted by the danger of it all.
But now…
It’s just me and Madison.
She’s opening up.
“I want it all,” I groan, bucking again and massaging her tits. She sighs and throws her head back, but thinks twice, locking eyes with me, hers worried that she looks dumb.
I grind on her, beg her, “Do it again. Throw your head back.”
She bites her lip, but gives it a try.
“Yeah, that’s it. Your breasts look incredible. And this exposed part of your neck…” I run a finger down it, then my lips travel up ever so slowly as I rasp into her trembling skin. “…it shows trust.”
Her fingers slip into my hair again, a little firmer this time. As I bend to lick her nipples and the feathery skin around them, I buck my hips, thrusting my bulge against the heat of her crotch.
“Your jeans are on fire,” I groan, closing my eyes and burying my face in her cleavage. “Can you feel the heat building?”
“Uh huh,” she breathes.
We grind some more, the demand for penetration becoming desperate in both of us. Her moans grow more courageous, hot as fuck, and I’m dying here.
My cock is attempting to punch his way out.
Suddenly I hear myself asking, voice deep and thick with desire for her, “Will you be my girl, Maddie?”
“What?” She searches my eyes. “Are you sure?”
“I want to give this a real shot.” Kissing her lips I explore her for a second and confess, “Don’t want to be without you anymore.”
Her fingers trail along my shoulders, down my biceps, fi
nally tugging at the sleeves of my t-shirt.
“Nicholas,” she murmurs and kisses me. This kiss is Madison’s answer. She embraces me, presses herself as close as she can, breaking free of my lips to burrow into my neck. “Please don’t hurt me.”
I flip her on her back, laying on top of her. “I’m fucking terrified, just so you know.”
She smiles up at me, soft dark brown hair splayed out on a silver throw pillow. “Really?”
“Yeah, really,” I smirk, “But I don’t give a fuck. Terrified is better than bored any day.”
We kiss for a very long time, tongues tasting, dancing, molding, communicating. It’s a bond I feel with her, that’s what’s different. I know that now.
I pause, catching my breath and thinking how to word this. “I want to clear something up before I strip you all the way naked.” Kissing her nose, her lips, her chin, I close my eyes a second and then look at her. “You’ve made a pretty big deal about my reputation, so I need to address something, make it really fucking clear to you. This isn’t just sex for me, with you. My heart is in it this time, Maddie.” I frown, because there’s a tug in my chest. “I’ve never asked someone to be mine before. Ever. So…I need something from you.”
She traces the back of my neck, sending more goosebumps flying as she guesses what I’m going to ask of her. “You want me to drop the past.”
“Yes. If we’re going to do this, we start fresh. That was them, us is now.”
Madison smiles, “Nice twist of an old proverb.”
“You like that?” I smile.
Biting her lip, she nods. “I think to start something real, that’s a great place to start.”
“Something that lasts.”
She blinks at me, surprised.
Done with talking, I kiss her deeply, embracing her, enjoying the soft moans she gives. We grind for a little while until I’m too fucking hard to take this any more. “Mine,” I murmur, and run my tongue just inside her parted lips.
Getting on my knees, I pull up her foot, slide her sneaker off and rub the arch of her foot, my fingers wrapped around her colorful sock as her toes stretch on her breathy, “That feels good!”
Nicholas Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 16) Page 15
