by Caro LaFever
Chapter 17
Nina had a healthy respect for sex. Her Maw-Maw, not her mama, had instilled in her that respect through a series of talks as well as letting her and her sisters watch the otters and opossums and mink swimming in the bayou.
Sex was natural. Instinctive.
Important.
More than anything else, though, her grandmother had made sure all three girls understood. Their bodies were a precious gift and shouldn’t be given indiscriminately. The old woman had known times had changed and expecting her granddaughters to be virgins when they married wasn’t practical. She’d huffed a bit, before then explaining about birth control and diseases and keeping safe.
But then she’d said it again.
Your body is a precious gift.
As Nina stared up at Luc Miró, watching and noting every nuance of emotion crossing his face, she finally understood the profound truth her Maw-Maw had been trying to convey to her years ago.
Her body. A gift for this man.
“You feel incredible,” he husked as he sprawled on top of her.
The heat of his skin burned through her, like a flambeau torch rising in the night sky. The brilliant light enflamed her, and her breath caught in surprise. A surprise that shouldn’t surprise, really.
This was her man.
The sense of Fate that had swirled around her for days burrowed into her heart. No longer would she fight this, or think she could escape. Escape was impossible when this was your fate, her Paw-Paw had said time after time.
Accept it. Relish it. Understand it.
But never run.
Luc placed his hands on the mattress by her shoulders, rearing up to stare at her. “Is there a problem?”
She realized she’d been still and quiet as she’d taken her Fate in. And for some reason, this man appeared to be nervous about sex in general and sex with her in particular. She didn’t want him to bolt before she took him into her body.
No promises.
Just sex tonight.
A puff of exasperation escaped her mouth. This man was very foolish in his quest to stay separate. However, men often were foolish, her grandmother had warned her, especially about things of the heart and Fate.
“What?” He tensed above her, his expression turning grim. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she rushed to assure him, her hands grasping his hips before he could move away from her. “Not a blessed thing.”
A flicker of relief flashed in his eyes before he zeroed in on her mouth. “Then I can kiss you?”
The request was so tentative, so unlike this man’s gruff, growly demands, she nearly teared up. Whatever had happened to him, she would cure. Whatever had been done to him, she’d find a way to undo. Whatever she could give him, she would.
“Yes, please.” She grinned at him in encouragement. “Anywhere you’d like.”
His words might be tentative, but his tongue wasn’t. It swept into her mouth, hot and spicy. His lips sucked on hers and the heat of his body rose, coating his skin with a mist of sweat. Yet, there was a sweetness in his touch, in the way he moved so carefully. The gentleness, so unlike his rough manners, went through her, making her want to cry once more. There was so much to this man she hadn’t seen. How had she missed these delicious layers of complexity? Of honey and sugar and winsome want?
His sex prodded her tummy, thick with desire. Reaching between them, she caught him in her grasp and stroked up, then down.
“Jesucristo,” he groaned against her mouth. “You destroy me.”
What she wanted to do was destroy whatever had hurt this man. She wanted to track down the person or persons who’d wounded him.
The wound was deep.
She sensed it just as her Paw-Paw had taught her.
But the realization escaped her as he kissed her again, and the feel of him, hot and hard, filled her conscience as well as her hand. His excitement stoked hers, and the wetness between her legs told her she was ready for him.
That shocked her.
Nina was the type of woman who liked to take things slow. She wanted to savor life and its flavors: the varied weather of the bayou and city, the crunch and curl of food, the peace of a garden.
The slow slide into sex.
Right now, though, with this man, she didn’t want foreplay. She didn’t want to play at all.
She wanted him.
“Now,” she stated, her gaze finding his. “I want you now.”
His hickory eyes glazed and his mouth dropped open. “But we’ve just started. Don’t you want—”
“I want you.” She tugged on his sex to make sure he understood. “Inside me.”
He groaned again, a frantic look of confusion and need filling his face.
Wiggling under him, she spread her legs, bringing him closer.
“Mierda.” His glazed eyes narrowed and his mouth went tight. “Birth control. Fuck.”
“That would be the order of things.” She smoothed her hands across his panting chest. “Do you have condoms?”
Every man she knew had condoms. Either in their pockets or in a drawer or in the bathroom. Not that she let every man she knew use them with her. Only a few. But every man was ready, in her experience.
“No, I don’t.” With a hard jerk, he rolled off her and stared at his black ceiling. “I’m an idiot.”
No, he was unique. A tenderness circled inside her. An urge to protect this man at all times and in all ways. She jumped from the bend and threw him a smile. “Be right back.”
His grunt of surprise followed her out of the bedroom and into the hall. Bounding down the circular stairs naked, she silently thanked her Maw-Maw for the lessons about preparation she’d delivered. Her purse sat on the kitchen’s granite counter and within seconds, she’d found what she’d been looking for.
“A girl who’s prepared.” He stared, almost glared at her, when she sauntered into his bedroom. “Mierda.”
She ignored the slight censure in his words and went with a tease. “You use that word a lot. Is life really that shitty?”
“Yes, usually.” His gaze lowered to her body and turned hot. “Not right now, though.”
“Good.” If it was the last thing she’d do, she’d create a world for this man that didn’t have any shitty in it at all. Using her body to continue to distract him, she strolled to the bed. “Shall I put this on you?”
He stared at the silver packet, his eyes going from hot to burning.
“Yeah.” His hips rose, his cock straining. “Be my guest.”
Fate and Nina knew she was going to be far more than that, yet for now, being his guest in his bed was enough. Ripping the packet apart, she kneeled on the bed and touched the tip of him. A gasp was his response, making happiness twinkle through her bones and blood. She thought about playing with him a bit, but the same driving need she’d experienced earlier wouldn’t be denied.
There’d be time to play.
Later. After this first time.
Like his body, his sex was big. The condom rolled tightly down his girth and he groaned at the firm touch of her fingers.
“Come here,” he growled, yanking her on top of him.
“You want me to ride you?” she purred, totally willing to take any position he wanted if it would give him the most pleasure.
Learning a man’s likes and dislikes was always one of the best parts of being with a new guy. She enjoyed touching and kissing and listening to understand a man. But this time, this time of learning would last for her entire life.
The fact astonished and pleased. Surprising her once again.
This man. Forever.
“Yeah.” His gaze never left hers, his hands caressing her breasts and hips. “That’s what I want.”
Placing her own hands on his chest, she pushed herself into position. “Whatever you want, cher. Whatever you want.”
Whatever you want.
Her words echoed in Luc’s head and body like a faint call from his past. The pas
t when he’d been a believer in love. When he’d dreamed of his life as a combination of loves. Love for his work, love for his home, love for his family. His parents always fought, but from childhood on, he’d understood underneath the squabbling lay a bedrock of love and commitment that would never be broken. He’d thought he’d laid his own bedrock with Genia. Except what he’d believed in hadn’t been true, not in the least. What he’d wanted had destroyed him.
The whispering ghost of his dead wife wafted into the room like a cold chill.
“Hey.” Nina stroked his condom-covered cock with a sure grip. “Come back to me.”
When he’d decided to do this, to take her, he’d thought he could prove to himself that he could be a good lover, that he could give a woman pleasure. Yet somewhere in the last few minutes, he’d lost the thread he held on his lust and his control of this situation.
Much to his disgust.
Not much to his surprise.
“Climb on top of me,” he ordered. “Take me.”
With a languid ease, so womanly and wise, she swung her leg over his and rose, his cock in her hand.
Luc stared at her in wonder. He could say it was a general wonder at a woman’s naked body. The line of her shoulders and arms, graceful and fluid. The sway of her perky breasts, exactly right for her shape. The way her slim waist dipped and flowed to her hips—so elegant, so classic.
But he knew, in his gut, she wasn’t a woman. She was this woman. This woman who’d invaded his street and come into his home. This woman who’d fed him and cajoled him into a laugh. The woman who’d lured him to bed with an invitation he couldn’t resist.
Any more thoughts were cut off when she began to slowly ease down onto his aching cock.
Throwing his head back on the pillow, he closed his eyes to her appeal and focused in on the feeling of a woman taking him inside her.
Dios. He’d missed this.
He’d forgotten.
“Ah, cher,” she murmured above him as she slid to the hilt, encircling him in heat and wet and wild. “You feel amazing.”
Yes, he did. He felt like a man again, like a guy who deserved sex. When he’d met Genia he’d been a stupid, eager virgin. He’d married her thinking he made her happy, in bed and in life. He’d thought he did things right in bed, he thought he knew how to be a man.
He’d been proven wrong.
Maybe he had a second chance here. Maybe with this woman, he could do things right. His hands grasped her hips in a tight, frantic grip.
She gasped.
Mierda. He was already screwing this up.
With a swift move, she leaned into him. Her breasts swished against his skin, making him sizzle. Her smile dazzled him into a daze. And then, her smoky eyes met his and he saw something in there, something that drove all his ghosts away.
“Let’s ride together,” she said, her voice low and sultry. “Let’s give each other what we need.”
Apparently, she didn’t mind his roughness, his lack of control. Maybe he still could do this. With her. His heart lifted, his scowl at himself turning into a tentative smile. “Ready?”
“Oh, yes.” She returned the smile. Her body eased up, sliding along his aching flesh, a hot, tight fist of woman. “So good.”
Yeah. Yes. Oui. Sì.
So, so good.
His hips bucked in a reflexive response and she moaned above him, the sound running through him like a river of desire.
Time and conscience and reality slid away. Luc only felt. His body took over, driving him closer and closer to an orgasm. He closed his eyes at the sensation of being accepted, of being wanted. And he knew it was true. He could hear her panting, feel her wetness, experience her frantic stroking of his chest and hips. He fell into the deep well of sex he’d lost long ago.
“Cher,” she husked. “I’m coming.”
He was too. With a shout and a hard jerk of his cock. With his blood pumping in his veins and his breath clutching in his throat. With his dreams and ghosts and past floating away in the steam of his passion.
Luc came back to stunned reality when she snuffled into the crook between his neck and shoulder. “Mmm,” she hummed on his skin.
His eyes shot open.
Her topknot had come off at some point during their strenuous sex, and her silky hair lay on his chest and shoulders like a tangled web. She slumped on him, a warm, humid covering. The scent of their lovemaking permeated the air, clogging his throat.
Jesucristo.
He’d fallen.
He’d done what he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do. Have sex with this girl who was too young and too flighty. Hell, she’d been having sex with her idiot boyfriend only a few days ago.
With grim determination, he grabbed her and pushed her off of him.
“What?” Her expression turned quizzical as her brows rose. “You’re not a cuddler, saleau?”
“No nicknames.” Scowling at the ceiling, he cursed himself for coming to his bedroom. If he had to make this gigantic mistake, why hadn’t he just taken her in the kitchen? Or against the hallway wall? Or at least in her borrowed bedroom. Then he’d have been able to escape.
Not taking the hint from his expression or his taut muscles, she nestled into his side, her hand lazily gliding across his sweaty chest. “I suppose you should go and get rid of the condom.”
Right. Mierda. He was worthless at this sex stuff. Yanking himself out of her grasp, he didn’t even look back as he stomped toward the door.
“Such a nice ass,” she said, her voice warm and rich. “Come right back. We’re not done.”
They were so done. Luc would make sure of this. Now that he realized the danger she represented, he’d push right past his popa’s reluctance and go through the family holdings himself, if he had to. He needed to find her another apartment immediately. Before he slipped again and made a fool of himself.
Locking the bathroom door behind him, he ripped the condom off, flushing it down the toilet. His gaze caught his own in the mirror and he glared at himself with disgust.
A baby.
He’d fucked a baby.
But damn.
His body still hummed with leftover lust. Dios, it had been good. How could he have forgotten the pleasure a man could find in a woman? How could he have stopped having sex for all these years, just because Genia had dripped her contempt in his ear?
Because it had been deceptive poison, something he’d only realized when Nina had slid down his cock with a purr of her own pleasure and then orgasmed right before he had.
He’d done that.
His body had done that.
Yet, he hadn’t thought about the condom, he didn’t know what to say to get that woman out of his bedroom tonight, and he had no clue how to fumble himself out of this situation without hurting her feelings.
The mix of emotions and thoughts made the sweat on his back go cold.
“Luc?” Her knock, exactly like her personality, was bold and determined. “What are you doing in there?”
His hands fisted.
Hiding. That was what he was doing. Hiding from her, definitely. But also hiding from the impact of the sex. The impact of the change to his life it represented. He hadn’t had time to figure this out, and he didn’t need Nina Blanchard running around naked in front of him as he did so. “Go back to your own bedroom.”
There was a short, sharp silence from behind the door.
“Cher,” she finally drawled. “Are you throwing me out of your bed?”
There was a trace of hurt lingering in her question. A thousand of his grandfather’s swear words zipped through his brain, making him dizzy. Why couldn’t the woman back off and give him some time? Why did she always have to get up in his business? “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“What’s happening here?” Her tone had turned rough and ragged. “We both had a good time.”
A good time. Was that all it was to her? Probably. Most likely, she jumped from bed to bed in that jaunty way she went
through life. Maybe she had the right attitude about sex and relationships and skating on the surface.
Except Luc had learned some painful truths about himself five years ago. Even before that, actually. He’d learned his heart fell hard and long. He’d learned sex was dangerous, not only because it could destroy his confidence, but it could ultimately lead him into emotional destruction. He’d learned, more than anything, he wasn’t a man with a heart that took things lightly. Took things easily.
“Come out,” she demanded. “We need to talk.”
Anger, a familiar friend, sprang to life. Striding to the door, he whipped it open. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“No?” Her brows arched and she crossed her arms in front of her. “You don’t think so?”
Thankfully, she’d put on one of his T-shirts, covering her temptations.
She looked adorable in his T-shirt.
Meirda.
“I want you to go to your own bedroom. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Her gaze widened at his gruff words before slowly sliding down his body. Making him realize he was naked.
Fuck.
No, don’t think of that word.
Twisting around, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist.
Her husky laugh swirled around him like cool fingers of winter fog from the Mississippi. “I’ve already seen everything. It’s too late to hide.”
The fire of his temper choked off his confusion, to his relief. “You think this is all a joke, don’t you?”
The laugh stopped with an abrupt cough. “A joke?”
“Yeah, a joke.” The steam of his fury blocked out anything but driving her away. “I’m just another of a long line of guys to have sex with. Hell, you were in bed with the idiot only a few days ago.”
A dead silence fell between them.
“Mais.” She dropped her hands and her face went cold. “You do have a way of killing things, don’t you?”
Yes. Yes, he did.
He had a way of killing many things. A wife. A best friend.
And his heart.
Chapter 18
Luc slapped a skillet on the stove and threw two pieces of tilapia in it.