by Ace Gray
“Sweets, hold your hands behind your back.”
Just his command had warmth spreading through my stomach. Bossy in bed was seriously sexy. I laced my fingers together and let them rest on the small of my back. The position forced my chest out as I started gliding up and down.
Nicholas ran his hands down my neck and breastbone and eventually my stomach. They kept going, down to my hips, and he held me still while he moved away from the headboard and down to the bed. I wanted to follow him and keep his skin against mine, but he wouldn’t let me. Instead, he grabbed my breasts and pressed me straight up on his rock hard erection. He began pushing and pulling, using my chest to control the speed I rode him.
My legs were burning when he pushed me further back so I arched toward his knees. He continued playing with one breast while his other thumb began stroking my clitoris. I had to keep reminding myself to move. And breathe. Every inch of me was jello.
He sat up a little—flexing every single defined ab muscle as he went—and leaned me even further back. His hand stayed cupped on my neck, supporting the arc of my body. He held me still while he thrust repeatedly, swift and shallow, up into me. I came incredibly hard before I knew what was happening.
“Jesus, I can feel every little twitch of yours on my dick,” Nicholas said raggedly.
He kept me bent backwards, his thrusts turning deep and desperate; I involuntarily flexed and tightened around him.
“Shit!”
He shot into me for a third time. Once he finished, he pulled me down onto his chest and let my arms unwind. Underneath my ear was his sticky skin and the erratic beating of his heart.
MMMmmm.
“Hey now,” he chuckled as his hands leisurely wandered across my skin.
We sat there until his heartbeat and breathing steadied. The rhythmic pattern of his fingertips had my eyes fluttering, fighting sleep. I dozed on his chest before he had the sense to roll me to the side of the bed and pull out of me.
I was too tired to make a comment, but I kept my eyes open just wide enough to see him saunter to the bathroom. When he turned back toward the bed he must have thought my eyes were closed because he stopped to stare. He leaned against the dresser with his hand on his chin and watched me snuggle into his plush bed covers. Slowly, his smile gave way to a sharply furrowed brow.
I had the inexplicable urge to go to him and wrap my arms around him, but my limbs wouldn’t cooperate. I could only will his troubled look to go away. Finally, I coaxed my eyelids to flutter all the way open and a satiated smile crawled across my face. He came back to bed and wound himself tightly around me—his naked front to my bare back—and I tangled my legs into his.
As he pulled himself to me, I couldn’t help the MMMmmm that slipped from my slightly parted lips.
10.
Warmth spilled onto my face, heating my cheeks to a rosy flush long before I opened my eyes. For a moment the brightness was disorienting, but then Nicholas’ steady breathing snapped the memories of last night into focus. That honied feeling spread throughout my body as I relived every moment.
An early morning headache thudded between my temples, but I stayed awake. I wanted to see him. Light danced and shifted across his face and exposed chest. Nicholas looked peaceful, which was another new side of him. His hair was wily and hung across his forehead. His chiseled chest rose and fell, and every once in a while his forearm flexed. Soft sheets hugged his strong legs. His lips were parted ever so slightly, letting soft, soothing sounds escape.
My cheeks hurt from the smile plastered on my face. I curled my body against his and was rewarded with his happy sigh. Seemingly still asleep, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into the crook of his shoulder. I nuzzled against him, savoring his warm skin pressed against mine.
For the first time in ages my mind wasn’t racing with thoughts of Vesper or tech components or the million other usual things. My eyelids drooped and my body sagged, content, as I fell back to sleep—something even more rare. When I woke again we were still curled up in each other. I stretched my limbs around him and hummed.
“I could get used to waking up next to you. You’re gorgeous in the morning.”
I couldn’t help the loud, “Ha!” that rang through the room. My hair always tangled when I slept with it down. Some, if not all, of my makeup had to have faded from my cheek. I rolled my eyes then looked up at him.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
He smirked a disarming crooked smirk. And he really did look magnificent with his tousled hair and naked body. The only thing remotely out of place were his stormy eyes.
“Who did I pull you away from last night?” He asked thoughtfully.
“My best friend Laura and her boyfriend, Dr. Malik Waters, who you apparently know.” I didn’t find Dr. Brown worth mentioning.
“How do you have time for friends? I imagine Vesper keeps you rather busy.” He spoke from experience.
“Laura’s been my best friend for years. We went to middle and high school together in Oregon. We even went to Princeton together.”
“A Princeton woman, huh?”
“What can I say, it’s a hell of a lot closer to Manhattan than most schools.”
“You picked Princeton because of its proximity to the city rather than the fact that it’s Princeton?”
His real laugh wasn’t as husky as his sexy chuckle. It was bright and loud and brash, truly something to behold.
“The city didn’t hurt.”
I bit my lip after I spoke, drinking in both him and his mood. It was a walls-down glimpse of Nicholas Bryant, which had to be rare. I could count the number of people who saw me like that on one hand.
“You were saying?”
“Right. We were together at Princeton. I was pre-med and she was studying English. I swam for the school and had every intention of becoming a surgeon.”
“Having a fitness empire is a far cry from the operating room. What happened?”
“Life.”
“Elaborate, please.” His hands started circling the small of my back.
“Shit hit the fan, and when I picked up the pieces, I was different.”
“And Laura helped pick up said pieces,” he said matter of factly; I couldn’t help my sad and rueful smile.
“I guess you could say that.”
I sighed. This part never got easier. And what on earth was possessing me to share my life story with Bryant voluntarily was beyond me.
“When I was a sophomore in college my parents died in a car crash.” His hand flinched against my back. “I was completely and utterly alone. No siblings, weird great aunt, or grumpy grandfather. I was an orphan. Am an orphan. Laura took it upon herself to single-handedly replace them. She still does.”
I thought back to those days. The raw, black hole that had settled in my chest, and frayed at the edges, had never really gone away. There were only small memories, tiny snippets, from those three months of mourning. The officers coming to the dorm to deliver the news, followed by pouring rain during the Pacific Northwest, February funeral. I laid on my bed in my pajamas without sleeping for two days, counting dots on the ceiling. I’d been drowning, and Laura pulled me out of the water. I owed her everything.
“I had no idea, I’m sorry, Sweets.”
He turned over to look at me full on before using his strong arms to pull me to his chest. His kissed my head through the tangled mess that was my hair. I let myself breathe in his manly scent before answering.
“It’s OK. It’s no one’s fault, and in a really fucked up way, it got me where I am now. I was numb for a while but I went through the motions; Laura made sure I kept up my class schedule and didn’t fail. I remember waking up one morning and realizing I was wasting the life I was lucky enough to have.
“One of our roommates had a case study due the following week; there were notes and textbooks scattered everywhere. I sat down at the table one morning and started skimming through her work. Over coffee I started my own res
earch and became more than a little obsessive. I saw the case differently. It was a very simple puzzle only the pieces were off the tiniest bit. I wrote a paper fixing the problems and turned it in to a professor whose class I wasn’t even taking. He thought it was brilliant, even made me publish it. I was offered a job on the spot with the company I wrote about.”
I chuckled at that memory. Nicholas was watching me with crystal blue eyes.
“What company?”
“Not telling.” I found a slight smirk. “I turned the job down anyway, flew to Portland the following weekend, put my parents’ house on the market, liquidated their remaining assets and got everything in line for my inheritance. Two weeks after that I had a business plan in place and six months worth of operating capital for the original Vesper studio. I opened in Midtown three months after writing that paper.”
Many people knew of Vesper’s impressive timeline but Nicholas was now one of two who actually knew the whole story. I couldn’t figure out why I was comfortable telling him.
“I changed majors after that and managed to finish undergrad and my MBA in four years. The whole single-minded, obsessive thing worked in my favor.” I blew out a gust of air. “Enough about me. Tell me about your family?”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
I looked up at him and only saw a clenched jaw and steely gaze. What I’d told him wasn’t necessarily life-altering but it was far above and beyond what I was comfortable sharing. And I’d been served a flat rejection in return.
“I mean that I have no intention of speaking about my family with you, Kate.”
I felt like I’d been slapped. “Well then,” I said quietly as I tried to push away from him and out of the bed.
“My stepfather and stepbrother are seriously fucked up and they taint most of my family memories, OK? Will that suffice? Does that make you happy?” He actually growled at me.
“No, that does not make me happy. Particularly if it bothers you,” I growled right back.
I was still at arms length but I stopped fighting against his grip. I narrowed my gaze and he shook his head. When I finally let my muscles relax, he smirked.
“I should feed you. You’re probably hangry.”
He rolled away, left the bed, and threw me a soft V-neck from the dresser. When I pulled it on I was pretty sure he could still see the outline of my body. His eyes went straight to my nipples pressed against the fabric.
“I like you in my T-shirt as much as I like you in my bed,” he said as he slipped into sweatpants that hung sinfully well from his hips. They kept me distracted right up until he threw me over his shoulder.
“Nicholas, stop!” I shrieked as he plowed downstairs to the kitchen. “Put me down right now!”
I wiggled on his shoulder; he chuckled as he plopped me on a stool at the breakfast bar. I crossed my arms, pretending to pout. He paid no attention, instead digging through the fridge. I couldn’t help but watch the muscles of his back ripple. He was athletic, almost animalistic, and it made the flush return to my cheeks and chest.
“Looks like Romana stocked the fridge with yogurt, fruit, and granola. Or I could make an omelet, maybe even a sandwich. That is, if you’re done sulking.”
“You are a real piece of work, Bryant.”
He grunted when I called him by his last name.
“Fine, Nicholas.” I hissed and held the S on the end. “Who’s Romana?” The question was a knee-jerk jealous reaction so I didn’t press. “And I’ll take a sandwich. And yogurt with fruit.”
“Hungry?” He arched an eyebrow.
Truthfully, I was starving; even my grumbling stomach gave me away.
“Yes,” I smirked at him. “I barely ate yesterday, and it’s safe to say I expended more energy than usual last night.”
He laughed his loud, sincere laugh and rounded the bar gracefully. He spread my knees and slid in close before locking my lips in a passionate kiss. He pressed his hands to my shoulders and pinned my arms to my sides. He kept kissing me until my breathing was uneven.
When I could only gasp he let me free. It wasn’t fair seeing him unruffled while I sat breathless. He turned as if nothing happened and started slicing fruit and slathering aioli on bread. When he set the finished feast on the counter, he plopped on the stool next to me and I rubbed my hands together.
“This is quite a spread.” I couldn’t help the purr in my voice.
“Romana, my housekeeper,” he paused for effect and arched his eyebrow, “Will be pleased it went to good use. I’m pleased because I’d like to expend more energy today. Apparently you’ll need the nourishment to do so.”
The flush travelled from my chest to my cheeks. “So it would seem.” I laughed. “Not all of us are used to that much sex.”
“From what I understand, you’re more used to it then I am.”
His tone was light as he spoke through a full mouth. Not even the sandwich could contain his humor.
“Excuse me?”
I was absolutely shocked he’d teased me. I couldn’t resist the urge to joke right back. My jaw went slack and I over-exaggerated a crinkled brow. The face worked like a charm. He sat up, swallowed, and his hands shot up in surrender.
“Kate, it was a joke. I’m sorry. I just meant that your reputation proceeds you.”
His stuttering and scrambling was too good. I kept my outraged face and blurted out, “So you just wanted a sure thing?”
“You? A sure thing? Are you kidding me?” His deep laugh was back, and I couldn’t help but falter and smile, too. “I could sleep with most women in this city. I just don’t want to. They want money, or prestige, neither of which I care to give.”
“That’s rather skeptical.” I set my sandwich down.
“No, it’s a fact. Proven over and over. I stopped dating a long time ago because of it, among other things.”
Somehow he’d turned the joke into something sad, his look far younger than usual and… vulnerable.
“So you never date?”
“No, do you?” He asked as if there was an obvious answer; any trace of weakness had vanished from his face. I chose my words carefully.
“I guess not. Most men are threatened by the amount of money and power I have. I’m fun to have around for a while.” I winked and he scoffed before I continued. “A relationship with me is good for publicity, maybe dirty sex, but the end it’s always the same.” I tried to contain a heavy sigh.
“Good thing we found each other, then. I easily have more power than you, and I know quite well you aren’t after me for my money. Nor do I want publicity. I do however, appreciate dirty sex.” He smiled a sweet smile or I might’ve pummeled him. “It’s like we were made for each other.”
The last part was under his breath. His face crinkled and gray churned in his eyes despite the sentiment.
Silence filled the space between us—besides my teeth tearing at sandwich bread—until Nicholas spoke again. He started talking about Bryant Venture Group and the many types of businesses he owned and financed. He told me the why behind his recent purchases, except for Nectar, the fitness clothing company we’d both bid on. Part of me wanted to find a nonchalant way to bring up tech components, but I took my cue from him and thought better of it.
He got off on acquisitions and fixing problem companies. He bought strategically and approached business like a puzzle, much as I did. He didn’t delve into his past or family; after his blunt statement earlier I hadn’t expected him to. A seriousness filtered into his eyes as he discussed business. I could see where he got the reputation for being a forceful and cold man. But I saw it for what it was: barely contained intensity. Fire pulsed through his veins, not ice.
One thing was clear; he was a passionate man. And it wasn’t limited to bed. I got the sense obsession extended to all aspects of his life.
That’ll make him willful, just like me.
His flooring looks were only rivaled by his intelligence. I found myself in awe of his bus
iness intellect and kept him talking for hours. His fingers grazed against mine, and at times, my outer thigh. Mine wandered up and down the dips of his hand and then forearm. His touch only left me once—when he got up to pour glasses of sparkling rosé.
The sun shone in from the opposite side of the apartment when he moved to stroke my inner thigh. I kept the conversation going as long as my body let me. Business according to Bryant really was fascinating. If his fingers hadn’t teased my clitoris I would have kept it up far longer. I bit my lip, and he got up to pop another bottle of sweet, crisp, pink wine, refilling both our glasses. When he finished his face altered subtly.
“I think I’m hungry again.”
I arched an eyebrow and chuckled. “I’m still full Nicholas but if you want to eat…”
I trailed off when I met his eyes. They were deep, riveting, and fixed solely on me. There was nothing stormy, only self-assuredness. I didn’t know what that look meant but I was more than willing to find out.
“I think I’d like to eat you.”
Yup, definitely willing to find out.
My knees knocked together.
“What did you say?” I breathed.
“You heard me, Ms. Elliott.”
A wicked gleam glinted in his eye; it was different from last night. It reminded me of the balcony the first night and how he’d made me come publicly, simply because he could.
“I, uh, yes…” Apparently I’d lost the ability to formulate full thoughts. “Yes, I did.”
“Good girl.”
He slithered in between my legs, opening my knees and softly scraping his fingers down my thighs. He threaded his hands below my butt and lifted me onto the bar. I sat right where my breakfast had been.
Nicholas pushed my knees open wider so he could reach my lips and kiss me. His mouth jammed against mine with an almost violent edge. As he kissed me, he bit my lip and pulled. Hard. Both of his hands travelled up my body and yanked me toward him, splaying my hips. His warmth radiated against my skin.