by Penny Reid
Though it certainly hadn’t felt small, earlier in the pool.
Nik picked up the lip gloss—his towel remaining tragically secure—and moved closer to the vanity. But he didn’t hand it over. Instead, he squatted down beside her chair, those muscular thighs and solid calves making her mouth water. Aria’s gaze caught on the way his towel rode up, and then on the carved lines of his abdomen, and then on the little drops of water sliding through his chest hair. Finally, she reached his face and found him smirking.
“You look good,” he said.
“You don’t have to compliment me, Nik. That’s not in the contract.”
“I know. But since my eyes are working fine, and I can speak, and you’re wearing that… I might as well tell you. You look good.” His gaze ran from her bare legs to the low V of her neckline. He reached out and traced a finger over the fine cross tattooed between her breasts. She tried not shiver as his calloused skin rasped over hers. Her nipples felt like bullets, so sensitive she almost whimpered as they tightened against her dress.
For a moment, his gaze held hers, hot and dark with promise. But then he looked away, shaking his head slightly, breaking the contact between them.
“Sorry,” he said, holding out the lip gloss. “I meant to take my clothes into the bathroom. I forgot.”
The loaded meaning behind that apology stiffened her spine. “It really doesn’t matter to me.”
Nik arched a brow. “It doesn’t matter to you if I wander around half-naked?”
“Nope.” His fingers brushed hers as he handed the little tube of gloss over, and the heat stirring between her thighs became a full-blown inferno. She was surprised she didn’t burst into flames. Still, she opened the lip gloss and prayed her hands wouldn’t shake as she applied it. The way her heart was pounding, they just might.
“Are you sure? Because it seems like it does.”
Well, that did it. Pride and stubbornness truly piqued, Aria turned a slow, disgusted look at him. “Sweetheart. Do you know how many men I’ve seen naked?”
His smirk faded at that, becoming something slightly darker. “I could not begin to guess.”
“Enough. More than enough. Nudity does not bother me. You could walk around swinging your dick like a toddler and I wouldn’t bat an eyelash. So, don’t ever think I’m concerned by your abs and your… towel.” Her don’t-fuck-with-me tone might have faltered a little bit at the end, there. But he didn’t seem to notice; he was too busy scowling at her, his usually cheerful face thunderous.
“So, you don’t care,” he said flatly, “if I wander around naked. You are not remotely affected by my presence.”
She rolled her eyes, flicking her hair as she turned back to the mirror. “Feel free to strip off and stick this lip gloss up your arse, if you want. I’ve got plenty more.”
He straightened up abruptly. “That’s great. Since you don’t mind, I’ll just behave as I usually would.” And then he dropped the towel.
She absolutely did not look. Not at all. And he certainly didn’t stand there and shove it in her face. No, he turned away almost immediately, casually going about his business. He got dressed while telling her where they were going for dinner, how much Varo and Kieran liked her, and complimenting her overhead throw.
While Aria applied her bloody lip gloss, and hummed in response, and acted natural. And tried not to think about the glimpse she’d gotten from the corner of her eye, just before he’d turned away. A glimpse of his thick, dark cock, not hanging by his thigh, but standing hard against his stomach.
Only she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Oh, dear.
Chapter 8
“I think I’ve found my people,” Aria shouted over the music, leaning against the bar. “Cuz if this is your friends’ idea of a quiet night…”
Nik knocked back another shot and grinned through the harsh taste. “It was supposed to be a quiet night. But sometimes we get carried away.”
She laughed a little louder than usual, throwing her head back. The movement made her wobble on her high heels, so he wrapped a hand around her upper arm to hold her steady.
“I think I might actually be drunk,” she said, finally figuring out what her bright eyes had already told him.
“I’d fucking hope so after all that vodka.”
She scoffed. “Clearly, I’m not used to shots that aren’t cheap and watered down. You can let go now.”
Nik wet his lips, feeling slightly dizzy himself. It wasn’t alcohol, though—at least, not all of it. Hours of drinking with Aria, dancing with Aria, trying and failing not to flirt with Aria, were going to his head way faster than the booze. And the silken feel of her skin against his palm wasn’t helping. “Right,” he nodded. “Of course. Yeah.”
She looked down at his hand, which hadn’t moved. Then she looked up at him. He thought she was trying to arch a brow, but it came out more like a surprised-looking head loll. “Nik—”
“Sorry.” He dragged his hand away and slapped it on the bar, letting the cool chrome soothe his skin. He felt like he was burning. Maybe he really was drunk. Because he was supposed to be getting to know her, not mauling her like a twat.
“You know, you’re really cute,” she said. “Sometimes, I mean. Other times you’re kind of scary-sexy.”
He frowned, biting the inside of his cheek. “I scare you?” That was the last thing he’d wanted. But he knew he pushed things too far, sometimes—all the time, actually—and Aria, tough as she seemed, was fucking fragile if you took a minute to look. “I’m sorry. I'm really sorry, Ri.”
“No, no, you don’t scare me. I mean, you don’t scare me, scare me. It’s more like… you know when you’re about to fuck a guy and he whips out some monster dick and you’re like Well, fuck, how’s that gonna fit?”
A smile tugged at his lips. “No, I don’t know. I usually—”
“Nope!” She held up a hand. “No more filth from you, sir! Not when you make it sound so good.”
His smile blossomed into a grin. “Good, huh?” Nik leaned in close, smoothing her hair out of her face. This time, he knew he didn’t imagine her shiver, the way she shifted restlessly as his fingers skimmed her neck. He brought his lips close to her ear and asked, “You like my dirty mouth, moro mou?”
She met his gaze, her glossy lips parted. Every time she reapplied that fucking lip gloss tonight, he remembered the way she’d looked at him earlier in their room. She thought his mouth was filthy, but she’d die if she heard him thinking about what else would make those lips shine.
“Maybe I do,” she said finally.
“Would you like to hear more?”
One of Aria’s many wonderful traits, he was learning, was the fact that she never backed down. If he was outrageous, she outdid him. If he laid down a gauntlet, she picked it up. So, he was awaiting her response with almost embarrassing eagerness when he felt a strange hand sliding up his arm, demanding his attention.
Turning to glare at the owner of that hand, Nik snapped, “What?”
A redhead with cheekbones sharper than a knife blinked up at him. “Aren’t you Nikolas Christou?” she asked, excitement all over her face.
Well, now he felt bad, snarling at a fan. With a sigh, Nik drummed up a weak smile and nodded. “Yep. That’s me.”
“Oh my God!” She leaned in, her hand sliding further up his arm—okay, so she was touchy—over his shoulder—friendly, then—and down his chest…
Until Aria grabbed the girl’s wrist between finger and thumb like it was a bag of dog shit, pushing it away. “He’s busy,” she drawled, running her own hand through Nik’s hair. There was a possessive edge to her touch that made his muscles tighten and his blood race.
The redhead gave Aria a look that was half-nervous, half-disgusted, and 100% pissing Nik off. “Calm down. I’m just trying to talk to him—”
“Talk less. Walk more.”
After a moment’s tense hesitation, the woman turned with a huff and a flick of bright hair. Aria watched her g
o with clear amusement, shaking her head slowly. Then she turned back to the bar. “That’s another shot for you, sugar.”
He should never have agreed to this game. He hadn’t realised before, but it seemed like he actually did need Aria—and not just because her presence soothed all his niggling anxieties. He’d been approached by more than enough people tonight to warrant a fake-girlfriend-bodyguard. So many, in fact, that she’d turned it into a drinking game.
He wrinkled his nose at the prospect of more alcohol. He was going to end up getting his stomach pumped. “Oh, come on. She was barely flirting.”
Aria snorted. “After tonight, I’m starting to understand why you hired me. That was a blatant come-on. No wonder you fall into bed with people and don’t even know how it happened.” She raised a hand to catch the bartender’s attention.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? That’s what this is about.”
“You’re not backing down, are you? We agreed. A shot for everyone I get rid of.”
“Fine,” Nik sighed. “Make it tequila, this time.”
“You guys want to stay up and smoke?”
Aria paused in the act of unbuckling her shoe, leaning drunkenly against the hallway wall. She looked up at Varo with her mouth hanging open, shock overtaking the ache in her feet. “You can’t be serious.”
No-one heard her over the sound of enthusiastic agreement. Apparently, this group of absolute nightmares weren’t ready for bed yet. How, she had no idea.
Nik appeared by her side, keeping her steady with an arm around her waist. “Relax,” he murmured. “I’m taking you to bed.”
The words zipped through her like electricity. Down, girl. He didn’t mean it like that. “We can stay up, if you’d like.”
He chuckled. “Please. I saw your face just now. There’s no way I’m getting between you and sleep. Anyway, I’m tired too.”
“Well, in that case…” She straightened up, holding her shoes, and wiggled her poor toes against the cold floor. “Ahhh, that’s good.”
“Give me those.” He took the shoes in one hand and twined their fingers together with the other. He’d been holding her hand all night, pulling her here and there. She found herself wondering—was Nik this affectionate with everyone? Judging by the awed looks his friends were giving her, apparently not. But if he were in a real relationship, would he be?
She remembered what he’d said before, about wanting love. About his parents, and his sister’s marriage. Yeah, she decided. He’d be like this in a relationship.
It was worrying how much the thought appealed to her.
“We’re gonna head upstairs,” Nik called as they walked away. “See you all tomorrow.”
There were a variety of responses, from Kieran’s Later, guys, to Georgia’s Bye, hon! to the low, ribald mutterings of some of the men.
“I’d take her to bed, and all!” shouted a pink-faced blond named Harry with laughter in his voice.
Aria rolled her eyes. “Your friends are children,” she murmured as they reached the stairs.
Nik flashed her a sleepy grin. “That’s why we get on so well.”
Aria stood in front of the enormous bathroom mirror, biting her lip as she stared at her reflection. She usually slept naked, but she’d brought pyjamas along for this trip, for obvious reasons. The little vest top was fine, even if it did cling to her belly for dear life—but the bottoms turned out to be way too hot, even with the air con blasting. So, she was standing there in her vest and the biggest pair of knickers she owned—which weren’t that big—wondering if it would be incredibly weird to lie next to Nik in bed like this.
I bet he won’t be wearing pyjamas.
True.
It’s not that different from a bikini. In fact, you’re showing less skin than you were by the pool.
Also true.
He was wandering around bare-arsed in front of you six hours ago. You really don’t need to consider his delicate sensibilities.
Okay, that decided the matter. He’d take her knickers and he’d fucking like it.
“Wow. That thought came out much dirtier than intended.” She shook her head at herself in the mirror and turned to leave the bathroom.
Nik was already in bed, the sheets pushed down enough to show his bare chest and the arrow of hair above his waistband. He was in his underwear, then. She hoped he was, anyway, because otherwise he must be bloody naked.
Still, she felt a little awkward as his eyes tracked her path from the bathroom to the bed. He didn’t say a word, which wasn’t like him. It wasn’t like him at all. And maybe it was the alcohol in her system, but this silence was making her nervous.
“So,” she said brightly as she climbed into bed. “How—oh, holy shit, this mattress is amazing.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. That was it. Just, Yeah. His voice was soft, almost raspy, and his gaze never left her, even as she laid down beside him.
Aria cleared her throat. “Um, anyway… How do you think today went?”
“It was good.” He turned on his side to face her, and God, this was just too much. His golden skin and dark stubble against the white pillow, his brown eyes turning onyx in the shadows, the way his voice lowered almost intimately. It hit Aria all at once that she was in bed with Nik. They’d expected this, discussed it, agreed to it—but she was starting to realise she hadn’t been ready for it. Plans had nothing on actually being with him.
Pretending to be with him, she reminded herself sharply. Pretending. You can’t be with anyone. You’ve proven that much. And when a contract is involved, it’s best to keep your thoughts compartmentalised.
That’s what she needed to do, Aria decided. Yes, she was attracted to Nik, and yes, she liked Nik, and yes, she was in bed with Nik. And all of that was fine, as long as she compartmentalised.
“What do you think?” he asked suddenly. “Was it good for you?”
She didn’t miss his teasing inflection or the slight curve of his lush lips.
“Oh, it was great for me,” she purred, just to watch that little smile of his turn into a grin. He didn’t disappoint, his eyes lighting up the way they always did when she took his shit and gave it right back. “By the way, thanks for not getting my hair wet in the pool.”
He laughed. “You noticed that?”
“Of course I noticed. It was kind of impressive, actually. But this is a sew-in. You can get it wet. I mean, I’d rather you didn’t, but I won’t throttle you if you do.”
“Ah,” he grinned, tapping her on the nose. “You might regret telling me that.”
She scoffed to hide the fact that a single nose tap had turned her mind all rosy and fizzy like pink champagne.
“Now, I was going to ask this in the morning,” he went on, “but I suppose it is morning now, and we’re talking, so.” He shrugged, and his shoulder brushed hers ever so slightly. After a night of dancing with him, holding his hand, and hanging off his arm whenever admirers got too close, the touch should’ve felt like nothing.
Should’ve.
“If there are any boundaries that you want to shift,” he said, “let me know. I mean, anything we’ve discussed that you want to change now. Like the touching.”
She blinked, surprise corralling her scattered thoughts. “You’d be willing to change things now, after we’ve already started?”
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I thought I should check in. And I wanted to tell you: if I’m ever out of line, don’t think you can’t stop me just because everyone’s watching. Just tell me to fuck off. I mean, that’s what you’d do if you were really my girlfriend.” He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. “But if you don’t want to do that, we could have a… a safe word, for when we’re in public. Something you can work into conversation, to let me know if I’m doing shit you don’t like.” He finished that baffling speech with a sweet little smile that, if Aria wasn’t mistaken, was supposed to reassure her.
She wasn’t reassured. Well, she was sure that Nik meant
everything he said. His consideration was genuine—but all that did was make her worry, because he was so fucking sweet. Sweet enough to ruin all the little boxes she’d stored her neatly wrapped-up emotions in. Aria knew she’d grown up starved of affection, knew she inhaled love like it was oxygen, knew that all too often she gulped down toxic, poisoned air in her quest for a connection. But despite all that—and despite knowing how badly she’d fucked up last time—the hole in her chest had started to whisper that surely this man would be the one to fill her up.
No. No. This man is not for us.
“I’ll remember that,” she said finally. “Thank you. And as far as the safe word goes…” She ignored, with difficulty, the sexual implications of that phrase. This was business, dammit. “I’m thinking banana split.”
“Banana split?”
“Yep. But, really, so far, I’m fine with how things are between us.” So, so fine. Almost as fine as your perfect fucking face.
Nik’s smile was soft and pleased, his happiness glowing like the bedside lamp behind him. “Good.” Then he reached out and ran the tip of one blunt finger over her lower lip—over her lip ring, she realised. He didn’t seem seductive; just curious. Which was galling, because that small touch had her nipples tightening within seconds. If he looked down, he’d see them poking holes through her vest.
Please don’t look down.
“You can really hold your liquor,” he said, pulling his finger away.
“Yeah,” she managed. “Of course I can. I’m British.”
He grinned. “I like that.” Then he rose up on one elbow, his biceps bulging right in front of her face as he reached over for the lamp switch. “We should really sleep, shouldn’t we? You ready?”
“I’m ready.”
The light winked out. “Night.”
How can this thing between us feel like more of a connection than every relationship I’ve ever had? How can an acquaintance and a few fake kisses be more solid than any ephemeral love I’ve chased? Why does everyone else taste like crappy corner shop sweets in my memory, but you taste like brown sugar melting on my tongue?