“Oh?” Looking up into his face, she couldn’t help but fix her gaze for a few seconds on his lush lips that undoubtedly lingered with the sweetness of chocolate and berries.
“The record label gives us all kinds of perks during recording and rehearsing to keep us happy and sane. I know it’s a lot to process. Sometimes I can’t believe it myself.” Using two fingers, he lifted her chin to where they were eye to eye. “I’m a simple man who got lucky. To be able to share my good fortune with ye is a dream come true. Share this experience with me, Nicky. Please?”
The small ember of heat idling in her belly was suddenly fanned, turning to flames in a millisecond. Swooning in his arms, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth against his, the warmth of chocolate mixed with berry and champagne, causing her to lick her lips when she pulled back. His chest heaved as her eyes raked over his solid frame as if he might be nervous too, the expression on his face imploring.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she reassured. “I mean, I just got here.”
A low rumble of a laugh filtered out of Mac’s mouth, his shoulders relaxing. “Ye had me a wee bit worried for a moment. I thought I might have gone overboard with the romantic gestures—”
“No,” she interrupted. “This.” She motioned with her hand throughout the space. “This is the dreamiest welcome ever. I’m usually the one setting the stage for romance with my wedding business. It’s nice to be on the receiving end for once.”
Averting her gaze, he reached for his flute as a smile tugged at one side of his bearded face. When he turned his attention back to her, his Scottish brogue was thick with pleasure, the candlelight flickering in his thoughtful blue eyes. “Ye deserve all things romantic. Ye better get used to it while ye’re here.”
Nicky cocked an eyebrow and grinned back at him. In one fluid motion, she reached for the plate of strawberries before she snuggled contentedly against him. Taking a huge bite of one, the hardened chocolate cracked in her mouth, the explosion of ripe fruit sending her taste buds into overdrive. With her mouth full, she looked up into the starry sky and nodded. “If bedtime chocolate is involved, you better believe you won’t be able to get rid of me.”
Mac’s laughter echoed across the terrace as she picked up another berry and teased him with the tip of the aphrodisiac, her dimples aching in her cheeks. Watching his sexy mouth open up for her was mesmerizing, his tongue darting out to lure the treat in. They were flirty and comfortable in each other’s arms, and it was in that moment she realized her rattled nerves were finally gone. She’d finally landed. Being with Reid Macpherson felt like home.
Chapter Eighteen
Mac edged himself to the side of the bed and swung his bare legs over the mattress, his feet touching the soft rug below. It was daybreak, and he needed to go for a quick run before breakfast and rehearsal. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the outline of Nicky sound asleep with her hands clasped by her cheeks, her long hair splayed among the white linens of the bed. A smile tugged at his hairy cheek, and he let out a contented sigh. Two weeks had already flown by – two weeks of uncanny bliss. This woman, this ethereal creature sharing his bed, had invaded every pore, every cell, every possible crevice of his thundering heart, and he would never be the same.
During the hours he worked, she became acclimated with their suite and the surrounding neighborhood. Leave it to the successful wedding planner to make new friends with the daytime staff, and even some of the dog-walking neighbors she met along the block on her explorations. The excitement he felt when he came through the hotel door every evening was unexplainable, Nicky always greeting him with her killer smile and a long, passionate kiss. Sometimes she’d welcome him at the door, handing him a cocktail if she knew he was having a particularly challenging day. Other times, he’d walked in to find her in the suite kitchen humming away, dressed in a frilly apron, content to cook him a homemade meal. The woman was a marvel, her company and unconditional love she poured into everything filling a huge void in his rock star world.
The first time he took her to the rehearsal studio, she insisted on gifting the band and crew with a gigantic basket of gourmet cookies she’d bought at the bakery around the corner, her sunny smile and easy cadence instantly winning over the entire lot. Nicky Sinclair was not your typical band girlfriend. She was the real deal – an angel in disguise, bringing calm and clarity into his raucous world. When she’d left, everyone in the band congratulated him, slapping him on the back and making comments about what a lucky bastard he was. He knew full well that lady luck, the universe, and even God himself rained down their providential fortune on him, and he wasn’t about to screw it up. Even James pulled him aside, insisting they go on a double date with him and Shannon before their time in New York was finished, his cousin rarely impressed with the women he spent time with.
On the days Nicky wasn’t at rehearsal with him, she spent part of her time parked at the antique writing desk in the living room running her business remotely, roaming the nearby shops, and taking long walks through Central Park. Often, she’d meet her friends Fiona and Chris for coffee or lunch before accompanying Fiona on expensive shopping sprees looking for maternity and baby clothes for the mother-to-be, thrilled to be a part of it all. The Big Apple agreed with Nicky, and she blossomed right in front of Mac’s eyes.
“Don’t get up.” Her breathy voice interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to the present, her bedroom eyes, and tousled hair, causing his tadger to twitch with interest.
“I didn’t mean to wake ye,” he whispered, reaching across the mattress to cup her cheek. “Go back to sleep, lass. It’s way too early still.”
“No,” she mumbled, flinging the sheet to the side and revealing her naked body, her full lips causing his insides to roil.
Raking his top teeth across his lower lip, Mac’s entire body flexed with want. Rolling back onto the bed, he lay on his side and held his head in his hand with a bent elbow, gazing down at her. The faintest glow of light filtered underneath the heavy drapes of the window, highlighting every delicious curve of her body. Without saying a word, he slowly ran his index finger across her lips and could feel the rush of a warm breath escape her lovely mouth.
“Did ye not get enough last night, love?”
His question was answered with a coy smile. With a grunt, he hoisted himself to his knees and straddled her, gripping her wrists with her hands above her head. His chest rose and fell in deep breaths as he stared down at her, his heart fluttering with need. Using his core strength, he slowly bent forward and inhaled her fragrance at the pulse of her neck, her perfect skin soft and warm to the touch. Running his hairy cheeks down her throat to her breasts, she arched her back, giggling from the tickle effect his beard seemed to summon. His kisses were tender and intentional, leaving a trail along the curves of her body he’d become acquainted with over the last couple of weeks, exploring every nook and cranny, learning what turned her on. Her nipples were hard, and his tongue swirled around the pink flesh, causing her to moan with desire.
Releasing her wrists, he dragged a hand down her hourglass side and snaked his way between her thighs, tugging on her soft mound before dipping two fingers into her hot well. Knowing he was the reason she was already soaking wet made him instantly rock hard. Pushing her inner thigh to the side, he grabbed his cock and teased her wet opening as she writhed beneath him. Her beautiful face contorted with lust, her small pants of yearning filling him with satisfaction.
“Ye want me, lass?” he asked in one hot breath.
“Yes,” she mewed beneath him. Her emerald eyes were nothing but dark mossy puddles staring back at him as she brushed his hair back from his forehead, her tender touch sending tingles of bliss across his skin.
Leaned back on his haunches with his hard cock in hand, he peered at her flowering opening glistening in the morning light. Och! She was fucking gorgeous – and she was totally ready for him. The heady feeling of anticipation rocked him to his core as his calf muscles ached
, prepared to thrust. Teasing her wet opening again, his eyes rolled back in his head, trying to fight the explosion building in his center.
“Please, Mac,” she begged, wrapping her fingers around his hands surrounding his shaft and angling her body for him to enter.
And that was all it took. He easily slid inside of her, her squeal of pleasure sending shock waves of ecstasy straight to his groin. With his hands fisted into her hair, he rode her hard, her fingernails digging into his buttocks as he pumped. The slapping of skin on skin was apparent in the large bedroom among the grunts and groans of their lovemaking, their bodies falling into a familiar rhythm they’d created. It didn’t take long for her insides to quiver and tense, the thick pressure around his cock the most intense gratification he’d ever felt. She completely shattered beneath him, yelling out his name in a shrill cadence, causing him to drive deeper. He could feel her aftershocks coming in waves and continued to climb higher, pumping and grinding his way to the peak. When he finally climaxed and convulsed with an orgasm so intense, so deep, he felt like he was falling off a cliff, freefalling into rapture.
***
“I swear to God Almighty, it’s true,” James chuckled. His arm was slung over his wife’s shoulders, the expression on his handsome face boyish with glee. Shannon snuggled close to him in the comfortable private booth of the expensive restaurant, away from prying eyes. The manager was acutely aware of the cousins' celebrity status, eager to accommodate them away from the main dining area. The remnants of dinner lingered on plates the efficient waitress was stacking in her arms, the clinking of silverware and china mixing in with the evening weekend hubbub.
Nicky took a sip of her wine and angled herself so she could see Mac’s expression as he shook his head. His mouth was clenched in an attempt to fend off one of his charming smiles. “Fess up, Mr. Macpherson,” she insisted. “Is what your cousin saying true? You have to take an anxiety prescription every time you fly?” She knew the man was afraid of flying – he told her as much when she asked about his airplane tattoo. But still, she couldn’t comprehend someone like Mac, who heavily relied on the airlines to get him from point A to point B, to be fearful of anything.
Mac ran a hand through his reddish hair and exhaled slowly. “I just don’t like being catapulted across the ocean in a metal tube going trillions of miles per hour. My mind can’t fathom it. It makes absolutely no sense how the fucking plane stays up in the sky.”
Nicky glanced across the table at James and Shannon, who seemed humored by Mac’s angst.
“Ye should have seen him the first time we flew to London,” James started. “Which was the first time we were on an airplane. We were just lads, and he insisted on holding my hand the entire flight.” James sniggered, nonplussed, telling her the story. “His face turned all peely-wally, and I thought he might pass out.”
“Oh, Mac,” Nicky sympathized, squeezing his thigh, trying to stifle a giggle. “You fly all the time now. You really can’t conquer this fear?”
Mac took a large swig of his dark ale and swallowed before answering matter-of-factly. “Drugs.”
“What?” Her eyes went wide as she angled away from him to try and read his paled expression.
Shannon chimed in. “Aye, the poor thing needs a little Xanax before flying, and he settles right down. Either that or he gets steamin’, drinkin’ the in-flight whiskey,” she added, reaching across the table to pat Mac’s hand lightly. Shannon and James knew a lot more about Mac than she did. Nicky was sure there were a thousand more stories in James’ catalog.
“Nothing wrong with a little Xanax.” Nicky bit her lower lip to keep from laughing and noticed the skin above Mac’s beard tinged crimson. To divert attention from him, she boldly changed the subject. “I hate to admit it, but we all have a few ‘isms’ in our lives we’re uncomfortable talking about. I admit I’m a bit of a perfectionist myself.”
“Aren’t we all?” Shannon admitted.
Nicky leaned her forearms across the white tablecloth and made a face. “I’m pretty bad. I’m that girl who straightens the pillows on her couch before leaving the house. I also have to have all my cans and spices in my pantry lined up in alphabetical order facing forward.”
“Get out,” James laughed, amused by her admission. “Ye sound just like Shannon and her color-coordinated clothes lined up in the wardrobe.”
Shannon swatted at her husband. “Now, don’t ye be spillin’ all my secrets.”
Mac turned to Nicky with praise. “Ye’re my little organized lass. No wonder yer business is so successful.”
“That’s not even the half of it,” Nicky continued. “I have this little ritual I have to do before every wedding reception.”
“Ye must tell us,” Shannon grinned back at her, her pretty blue eyes striking against her porcelain skin and dark hair. She and James made a striking couple.
Biting her bottom lip, Nicky dipped her head with hesitation. “It’s kind of silly. I don’t know why I do it, and I certainly don’t know why I’m confessing it to all of you tonight.”
“Ye don’t have to tell us anything,” Mac reassured. His arm snaked around her waist, and he held her firmly by the hip.
“No, it’s okay.”
“What is it then?” Shannon asked, sipping from her glass. Her fingernails were painted black, and her wrists jingled with several silver bracelets, the woman looking every bit the rock star wife.
“Well, before all the guests arrive, I make my rounds to every single decorated table and make sure the place settings are perfect, the candles are lit, and the place cards are perfectly aligned at the tops of the plates.”
“Well, that sounds like part of yer job, not an odd quirk,” James quickly lamented, as if he was disappointed.
Nicky laughed. “That’s the normal part of my routine, for sure. But it’s when my staff finally opens the doors to let the guests in that I do something really sneaky – something terrible I’m ashamed to admit.”
“Do tell!” Shannon insisted, her twinkling eyes fixated on Nicky’s face.
Leaning in for dramatic effect, Nicky brought her voice down a notch. “I don’t know why I do it. It’s become a bit of a habit now – like a pregame ritual, I guess. But as the guests are coming in, I casually walk by the corner table where the wedding cake and groom’s cake are displayed and I…,” she paused.
“And ye, what?” James implored.
“I…I run my index finger along the bottom tier of one of the cakes and stick a blob of frosting into my mouth.” Her words came out fast, and a little bit warbled. The entire table remained silent for a moment, all eyes on her before a peal of laughter erupted, sending a surge of relief through Nicky.
“Oh, my god! That’s so funny. Do the bride and groom ever notice?” Shannon asked, her expression a mixture of perplexity and humor.
“Never. I’m very discreet with my drive-by frosting swipes. And there’s always a little flower girl or ring bearer in the crowd I could blame it on if anyone ever noticed.”
Another roar of laughter ensued, and Nicky joined them, wiping at the corners of her eyes with a napkin, amused by her own odd behavior. James and Shannon mumbled something between them, which allowed Mac to garner her full attention.
“Does Fiona know ye did this at her wedding?” he asked, his blue eyes glimmering with amusement.
“No!” Nicky swore, suddenly mortified. “Don’t you go and tell her either.”
He chuckled, looking down at her. “Ye told me the first day we met ye had an affinity for wedding cake. Ye weren’t kidding. It’s more of an obsession if ye ask me. Ye must be going through severe withdrawals not having any for so long.”
“Bedtime chocolates seem to take away the craving,” she mumbled closely into his ear, making him smile. “Just promise me you won’t say a word to Fiona and Chris, okay?”
“I swear by the patron Saint Andrew, yer secret’s safe with me.” Running his nose along the shell of her ear, he placed a tender kiss on he
r temple, his exhale warm and intoxicating.
After their last round of cocktails, the party of four dispersed, the trendy restaurant mere blocks from their hotel. James and Shannon decided to duck into another quaint bar for a nightcap along the way, the husband and wife taking full advantage of the rare weekend off. Mac and Nicky continued down the sidewalk under the lights of the streetlamps arm in arm toward the hotel. The late September air held coolness in the night, and she shivered next to him.
“Are ye cold, love?”
Nicky adored it when he called her, “love.” It was a term of endearment he’d started using shortly after she arrived in the city, usually calling her the name when he was feeling affectionate toward her. With his massive arm cradling her at his side, she nestled against his warmth, contented by the nearness of him.
“I’m better now,” she beamed.
It was funny how she hadn’t been homesick at all, hardly missing her staff or her parents, who she communicated with daily. She and Mac had made a home for themselves in their hotel suite, settling into a familiar and comfortable routine. Sharing his bed and his meals was easy, their relationship easygoing, and the sex off the charts. Watching him rehearse stirred a whole other slew of emotions. The man was totally in command on the makeshift stage, his incredible talent like watching a meteor shower in real time – she was in awe, starstruck witnessing his rise to fame. No wonder his manager and label spoiled him. This man was a superstar, about to take flight in the most crucial world tour of his career.
But there was the other side of Reid Macpherson besides his rock star persona – he was a normal, fun-loving man, albeit a hunky Scot with a sexy brogue, and Nicky genuinely liked being around him. No, if she was candid with herself, she loved being around him. Everyone commented on what a great couple they made. But could they continue their relationship when he went on the road as the Scottish rocker? He’d be gone for months at a time, traveling and performing – exhausted and exhilarated – sought after and fanned over. Would he even have time for her once they said their goodbyes and he took off in a haze of Xanax on the first plane of the tour? Would he remember her when his star-status exploded like fireworks for the entire world to see?
I'll See You Again: A Scottish rock star, standalone opposites-attract romance (Reigning Hearts Book 4) Page 13