by Cora Bell
“God. You’re squeezing me so tight,” he said, voice gruff.
My body responded by tensing, tightening even more. And he just kept thrusting his hips, making me ache for yet another release. I shoved my hips back to meet each thrust. Nash’s hand squeezed my ass, then ran up my spine to grab my hair.
He pulled my head back as he thrusted one last time. Then he caught my mouth in a kiss as he spilled into me, body jerking against my ass.
Nash exhaled, his body finally going still behind me. I felt his breath on my neck, felt his fingers twisting gently in my hair, and all I could do was lay still as my heartbeat slowed. When Nash pulled out of me, I made a noise of disagreement and was rewarded with a chuckle.
I rolled over, spent, deliciously sore, and tired as hell. “I can’t move.”
“You need to rest.”
“I need food. And maybe more wine.” I grinned. “And maybe another round of that.”
He lifted his eyebrows, completely comfortable being naked in the middle of the room with windows all around us. Every bit of him was toned, from head to toe. Strong, lean legs, washboard abs, and the finest ass I’d ever seen.
My phone rang from somewhere in the room. I looked over by the door where I’d set my purse.
“You need that?” Nash asked.
I frowned. No. But yes. Because with my mom out there, I never knew when I was going to have to be grown-up Reyna again.
He didn’t wait for an answer, just reached in my purse, plucked out the phone and brought it to me. The ringing stopped, and I almost didn’t want to look at the screen. When I finally made myself take a peek, I blew out a breath. Just Jane.
Probably checking in now that she was back home—or calling to convince me to come there.
“You look relieved,” Nash said.
I set my phone aside and reached for my wine, then realized it was empty. “It’s…yeah. I thought it was someone else.”
“Your mom?”
My gaze flashed up to his. He couldn’t know anything, could he? Sure, he could find things out if he went digging, but he hadn’t gone digging, had he? I hadn’t gone searching for answers about him, even when Stephanie had been telling me all sorts of stories about the elusive Mr. Holmes.
“She…” I balked. “No, it wasn’t her.”
Nash only shook his head and leaned down to pick me up. I let out a squeal of surprise when he cradled me in his arms, making it seem effortless.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Creating the atmosphere.”
I watched his face, bewildered as he carried me through the living room, and to his bedroom. “The atmosphere for what?”
“For you to talk to me.”
“But—”
He dropped me to my feet just outside the bathroom. “A hot bath, candles, wine…”
Mouth open in surprise, I followed him as he started the water in the large tub, added some kind of oil that smelled heavenly, and then lit candles.
“Get in,” he commanded.
I laughed, unable to help myself. “Very romantic.”
“It is, right?” he asked. “I want you to relax. It’ll help.”
It’d help me open up to him, was what he meant. And damn, when he acted like this—showed me the soft, vulnerable side of Nash—I almost wanted to.
I climbed into the bathtub and settled down the in the warm water. Nash vanished for a few minutes and returned with a glass of wine for me.
“I know what this is,” I murmured, already relaxed. “You’re trying to get me drunk. So you can take advantage of me.”
He took a sip of my wine before he passed it over. “I think we already took care of that portion of tonight.”
“Are you going to let me see it?”
His mouth opened, then he glanced down at himself, making me laugh. “See what?”
“The painting.”
“Oh. Not yet. Not until it’s finished.”
“But—”
“All right. Scoot forward.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Make room for me. I’m getting in.”
The water rose precariously close to the lip of the tub, but Nash didn’t seem to care. He spread his legs on either side of me and touched my shoulders, urging me to lean back against his chest.
I smiled when he ran his hands down my arms, and then back up, spreading the warm water all over me. It dribbled down my chest, making my nipples pucker as the drops cooled.
“You’re good at this,” I murmured.
“Taking baths?”
“Taking care of people. Me.” Which wasn’t something I’d had a lot of. Something I tried not to think about. That was life, right? You could really only rely on yourself. “Is it strange for you?”
“What?”
“Being like this with someone after…so long?” I shrugged. “Or—or not, I mean, obviously you could have been with a lot of women since—since—”
“No.” He massaged my shoulders. “There hasn’t been anyone since Brianna.”
“Oh. But—”
“That’s not what we’re here for,” he snapped.
My shoulders tensed, and he massaged harder.
“Sorry,” he said, breath touching my ear when he leaned in. “I wanted to talk to you about the phone call—help you get this taken care of.”
Meaning he didn’t want to talk about himself. My stomach clenched. I didn’t want to talk about me either. Even Jane didn’t know how bad things with my mom had gotten. But if anyone could understand, it was Nash.
He knew a little something about that fucked up world out there. So I rested against his chest and closed my eyes. It was easier to tell him this without having to see that fucked up world.
“You’re right,” I told him. “I thought it was my mom on the phone. Or—not her, but someone calling for her.”
“Calling for her?”
I nodded and forced the words out. “She’s…not exactly stable. She’s in an institution.”
#
I kept rubbing her shoulders as she talked, but Reyna was tense the entire time she told me about her mom. About how she used to have to take care of her when she was in high school. About having to pay the bills with her own money. About how her mom would sometimes stay locked up in the house for weeks on end because she thought someone was after her.
I tried not to let it get to me, even though it sounded familiar. I stayed locked up in my house, too, but not because of some sort of illness. Although, that’s probably how the rest of the world saw it. Maybe that’s how Reyna saw it, too.
But she was still here. I hadn’t scared her off yet.
“Every time the director of the facility calls, I know she’s done something else,” Reyna said. “I know they want me to put her in acute care—meaning she’ll be watched pretty much all the time. She won’t be able to have visitors as often. She…” Her breath hitched. “She told me she’d never speak to me again if I did that to her—that she’d kill herself if I did that.”
I squeezed my arms tightly around Reyna, holding her while she fought back a few sobs. Then I brushed her hair off her shoulder and kissed her neck.
“You can’t do this alone,” I murmured.
She gave a choked laugh. “It’s my responsibility. Besides—it looks like you dealt with everything that happened with Brianna on your own.”
My teeth clenched, and I forced myself to relax. She was defensive because she didn’t want to talk about this. I understood that all too well. It wasn’t personal.
“I didn’t deal with it on my own,” I whispered. “Layla helped me.”
“Layla? You mean…?”
“The woman from the store downstairs. She’s my sister.”
“What? You never told me that.”
I shrugged, ignoring her surprise. “She helped, and I had professional help too. I didn’t deal with it on my own. At least not after…”
“What?”
She turned to
face me, and water splashed over the sides of the tub. Her breasts were slick with water, nipples tightened into hard peaks. She was so beautiful. And anything I could do to help her, I would. Telling her about my past right now wasn’t going to help.
“Let me help,” I said. There were a million things I could do. I could make the financial part of those problems go away with a snap of my fingers.
She started to shake her head, so I leaned in and kissed her. “If you could help me, you would—that’s the kind of person you are.”
“I do want to help you.”
“Then let me do this. Tell me the name of the facility. I’ll—”
“No. That’s not necessary.”
“Then move into the hotel. You can have a suite, forget about rent for a bit. It’ll ease the burden.”
“Nash. You can’t—”
“I can,” I snapped. “I can, and I will.”
She huffed out a breath, and then stood, her body dripping warm water. “It’s not that simple.”
She got out, and I let her. Damn woman. This was an easy fix, and she was making it complicated. She was just like Layla. Wanted to do every fucking thing on her own.
I stood and watched as she wrapped a towel around her body and walked into the bedroom. Gritting my teeth, I followed her, already thinking of another solution. But my breath caught when I saw her drying off with the towel. She ran it down her legs and the lifted it to rub her arms, her breasts, her abdomen.
She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
My cock went rock hard. All I could think in that moment was that I needed to fix this so I could be inside of her. So we could both lose ourselves again.
I walked over, grabbed the towel and stepped behind her to dry her back. I kissed her shoulder, her neck, her ear. “Take the job. Take photographs for me so I can use them for my work.” I nibbled her earlobe. “It comes with benefits.”
Relief filled me when she laughed softly. “What kind of benefits?”
“Full access to my body 24/7. Enough money to get you back on your feet—and take care of your mom. Orgasms at your request.”
“I like how you put the important information right in the middle.”
“Trust me, Reyna—all of that was important information.” I gripped her chin and turned her head to face me. I kissed her once. “Take the job.” I kissed her again. “It’ll help me out more than it’ll help you.” I ran my tongue along her lower lip. “I’ll be your love slave.”
“Now that wasn’t in the original offer,” she said, lips curving.
“Consider it a bonus. Say yes.”
She turned and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Yes.”
I tossed the towel on the bed and yanked her hard against me. My cock swelled, pressing into her hip. “I need you.”
“I need you, too.”
I forgot about her mom and worries and the past and focused on Reyna. The woman I was in love with.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I might as well have moved in with Nash with how much I was at his penthouse over the next couple of weeks. I’d head out with Charles during the day, traverse the city looking for inspiration and take hundreds of shots for Nash. Then I’d spend the evening with him, showing him the photos and helping him decide on his next project.
For once in my life, I didn’t spend every waking moment worrying about my mom. Or my finances. Or any of the other things I always ended up worrying about.
In bed that night, I planned where I wanted to take photographs the next day. “Water? Buildings? People?”
Nash glanced over from his laptop. “Whatever inspires you.”
“But what inspires you? What do you want pictures of?”
“Everything you take is inspiring.”
I shifted to face him, setting aside my own laptop. “I have an idea.”
“What?”
I waited for him to look away from the laptop. To focus on me. When his eyes met mine, I said, “Why don’t you come with me?”
His face froze, no expression whatsoever.
“It’ll be fun,” I said quickly. Then started babbling to convince him. “We can spend the day together and you can help me find pictures to take. We can head out to the pier first, you know—be super touristy—”
“Reyna.”
“Or if that’s too crowded, we could go somewhere else. Start off simple, maybe have some lunch. And then—”
“I can’t.”
My stomach clenched. I held his gaze, hating the hurt I saw there. Also hating that he wouldn’t at least think about it. “We could try something smaller.”
He went back to his laptop with a shake of his head. “You know I like all the pictures you take. Anything will do.”
“Damn it, Nash. Don’t act like that.”
He glanced over, warning in his eyes. “Act like what?”
“Like it’s not a big deal. Like what I’m saying doesn’t matter.”
His jaw flexed. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
I snatched his computer from his lap and set it aside. “Then talk to me. This is important.”
“Reyna,” he said, voice low.
“Talk to me.”
“I was working.”
When he reached for the laptop, I blocked him, then gasped when he grabbed my wrists, knocked me back, and pinned me to the bed, his body holding mine down.
“This isn’t something we’re going to talk about right now,” he said, eyes dark.
“When are we going to talk about it?”
He frowned. “This isn’t even an issue.”
My hands flexed in his strong grip and my chest heaved. “Let me up.”
“Give me my laptop back.”
“You’re such an asshole! You want me to talk about my mom but then you won’t talk about this. It is an issue.” Emotion bubbled up, making my words thick. “It’s an issue because I want to go places with you. And you know how hard this is for me—staying locked up here. It’s just like my mom—it’s just—”
“Okay, Reyna, hold on.”
Nash released my wrists and pulled me up so he could cradle me against his chest. I shoved at him, but he only caught my arms under his so I couldn’t push him again.
“Stop, Nash. I can’t—”
“Reyna, wait,” he said, voice softening. He cradled my cheeks in his hands. “Don’t cry. Please. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not. You’re—you don’t understand—”
“I do. Please, listen to me. I know this is hard for you…” He brushed tears from my cheeks, then kissed them one at a time. “Take a minute and breathe.”
I did because I didn’t have a choice. His words were soothing, and my breath was hitching, and all I wanted was for him to understand.
“That’s better,” he murmured.
He kissed my throat and my jaw, then slid his lips along the seam of my mouth, trying to get me to open. I did because I wanted comfort, and this was how Nash comforted.
His tongue tangled with mine, breath warm and heavy on my lips. He yanked off my shirt, and my hair fell over my shoulders, tickling my nipples.
“Reyna…” he breathed.
I ran my hands up his shoulders, tracing over his muscles and down his abdomen. I reached a spot just above his hip and looked down, smoothing my fingers over a scar.
“What happened here?”
He grabbed my hand and pressed it to his cock instead. “I want you.”
“Nash…”
But when he sat up to take off his boxers, I was derailed. He removed my panties next and leaned his back against the headboard, pulling me up to straddle him.
“I need to feel you around me. Reyna…”
I rose up and took him in me inch by slow inch, already familiar with his girth and length. I sighed as he went deep. He gripped my hips, grinding me down as far as I could go before his own groan slipped out.
“Yes, that’s it,” he said as I began to rock.
It wasn’t the first time Nash had distracted me, and I doubted it’d be the last. But right now, with his thick cock inside of me and his hands on my breasts, all I could think about was the pleasure he was giving me and the same pleasure I wanted to give him.
#
She rode me until my mind went blank with everything but her. She rode me until I couldn’t even remember what had gotten us here.
“Fuck,” I bit out, gripping her hips. “You’re so wet.”
She swiveled her hips against mine, grinding in circles and then sliding up and down my shaft like she was the only one in the entire world who knew how to pleasure me. And when I was close, so close my whole body tightened, she eased off of me. Cool air swirled between us, shocking me for a moment.
But then she crawled between my legs, hands on my hips, and licked the head of my cock. When her mouth opened and her lips closed over me, I died a thousand deaths. It took everything I had not to explode, to slow down and enjoy the sweet agony of her blowing me.
“God. Reyna—”
She responded by tightening her lips and taking me even further in her mouth. I gripped her hair, the wild tangle of it that tickled my thighs and brushed my balls. Fuck, the sensation of that alone nearly drove me crazy.
She gripped the base of my dick with her hand and jerked it up and down while her mouth did the rest of the work. My hands clenched in her hair. Damn it—why the hell hadn’t I demanded Reyna come up to my penthouse sooner? I’d missed so many months, so many moments with her. And…fuck!
I grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back on the bed. Her hair feathered out on the comforter like silk. She spread for me right away, and I sank into her, hips jerking at what I knew was coming.
“You’re mine,” I murmured, finding her mouth.
“Only if you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
I pumped my hips against hers, hiking one of her legs up at the same time to go deeper. Her breath rushed out, followed by a moan of pleasure.
“Yes,” she whispered, hands clenching on the comforter. “Deeper.”
I obliged by shoving harder, shifting my hips up at the same time to hit her where I knew she’d feel it the most.
“I need to feel you come,” I said. “Come for me.”
I couldn’t finish until she did. Couldn’t let myself go over the edge until she was right there with me.