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Strictly Business (Mixing Business With Pleasure Series Book 1)

Page 11

by Ace Gray


  Too wrapped up in him.

  I walked up to the windows, still holding onto Nicholas. I pressed my free hand to the glass and looked out onto the city lights then out toward the water.

  “I pray I remember every detail of having you pressed up against my windows.” His voice was low and sultry; his reflection was fixed on me, not out at the city.

  “Me too,” I whispered.

  “Come on.”

  There was hunger in his gaze, but he tried to pull me from the glass. I didn’t budge. “I don’t mind repeating last night.”

  I leaned coyly against the windows and let one toe brush up and down my calf. I had no qualms about breaking in every room.

  “You’re going to kill me.”

  We were taking turns sharing the sentiment. I smiled and let him pull me through the living room to the terrace. Off the living room was a plush office filled with rich cognac leather. Four flat-screens were mounted opposite the windows, and mixed among massive bookshelves. The cityscape would be his to lord over when working from home. The computer shed soft light onto papers scattered across the desk.

  “You were working?”

  “Yes. I have to prep for an early meeting Monday. I figured the more I got done while you were sleeping the more time we could spend together tonight.”

  He was sincere but for some unknown reason his look altered. I ignored it.

  “You want to spend more time with me?” I asked, unable to hide the uncharacteristic giddiness.

  Wordlessly, he pulled me toward the staircase. A massive, gorgeous painting hung above the bar and brought pale yellow into the muted gray space. The slim metal railings of the sweeping spiral staircase barely obscured the view of the city or the artwork. He stopped halfway up to bend me back over the slender rail and kiss me. I gripped hard on his firm biceps and couldn’t help laughing when he righted me. He was devastatingly sexy like this, and exceedingly fun to be around.

  Nicholas barely stopped on the second floor only motioning to a few guest bedrooms. We walked hand in hand to the third floor where he showed me two more guest bedrooms, flipping lights on and surprising me with the beauty of both the interior design and the views.

  The master bedroom had more to it than I’d initially seen. The massive closet had window walls and was more like a dressing room, complete with a lighted vanity. Beautiful bespoke suits lined every inch of the walls. The bathroom was one of my favorite spaces. The walls were still all spotless glass, as was the shower.

  I couldn’t help but imagine sex with Nicholas in that shower; warm water rushing over our entwined bodies, flesh pressed up against fogged glass. He must have seen the erotic thoughts cloud my face because he cleared his throat.

  “I’m trying very hard to remember what was important to me before I met you.”

  He purred and I almost melted on the spot. We locked eyes and instantly the air changed; the room became electric. He drew me in close. His hand cupped my bare backside. He was almost on my lips when a buzzer echoed through the apartment.

  “That would be the food.” He pinched me where his hand rested. “Let’s eat in the theater. Maybe we could watch something?”

  I nodded and his hand shifted to my elbow as he pulled me from the bathroom. When we reached the top of the stairs he swiftly bent to pick me up; I happily threaded my arms around his neck. He set me down on the second floor and pointed toward a room behind the elevator. He strolled down to the bottom floor as I rounded the corner.

  This room was decorated in every shade of white and gray, accentuating shadow wherever it fell. There were four gray suede recliners curved in an arc. A step above was a white leather sofa centered between two more recliners. The couch was soft, supple leather with large silver rivets on the seams. There were video game consoles built into the wall just below a large flat screen. The projector above the couch made it obvious that a larger screen lowered from the ceiling as well.

  But what really caught my eye were the photographs lining the walls. The largest photo was about four feet long by two feet wide and hung above the sofa. The whole series were close-up, artistically-lit snapshots of naked skin. They were sensual and intimate but anonymous.

  Shit.

  Anonymous to anyone but me. Seeing them was a slap to the face. I recognized more than the artist as I climbed onto the couch to take a better look.

  This will be an interesting story.

  One I hadn’t anticipated telling. Ever.

  “You like them? The artist is Patrić.”

  “I know,” I blurted out when Nicholas startled me.

  Shitshitshit.

  “I have one too. It looks like you bought the entire exhibit. Two years ago in Soho, right?”

  “Yes. How do you have one? I thought I purchased everything.” His brow crinkled. “I rarely buy my own art but I saw this exhibit being unpacked on an early morning run. They tried to shoo me out of the gallery since they weren’t open; the exhibit wasn’t even hung.”

  He chuckled lightly at the memory. “One of the galleries’ girls took pity on me because she found me attractive. When I pulled out my black card and she realized who she was dealing with, she almost fell off of her chair.”

  His face fell again. “Did she not sell me all of them? I requested any future ones.” He set down the food and crossed his arms, accentuating his chest.

  “I’ll tell you on two conditions. One, answer one question, honestly. Two, don’t get mad.” He said nothing but nodded a curt yes.

  “Why did you buy the entire exhibit?”

  “That woman is beautiful.” I frowned and he scrambled to continue. “Not just her body but her soul.”

  He sighed and continued. “I imagine these photos were taken just after sex. That woman adores the man taking them. I want that. I wish I could have someone who doesn’t want me for money or prestige or power. I gave up on someone loving me for me a long time ago. Too many barriers, too many secrets.”

  Seeing his broken face made me physically hurt.

  “The pictures represent hope. I hope someone will prove me wrong.”

  His eyes were the flattest gray I’d ever seen, but he tried to hide the emotion from me and recover. I wanted nothing more to go to him—to hold him—but he turned away and scoffed.

  “And, I mean, she has the most perfect skin I’ve ever seen. Until I met you, that is. She’s the only one I’ve ever wanted to run my fingers across as badly as you.”

  It was a good deflection, but it was a deflection nonetheless. He yearned for her, and his tone was wistful, like the she was a concept out of reach.

  He cleared his throat. “Your turn. How did you get one of the photos? I won’t get angry.”

  He watched me like a hawk, judging how I reacted to every word. I watched him equally curious as to how he’d deal with what was coming.

  “I know Patrić. I was given the one print that was never shown in the gallery.”

  “Why wasn’t it shown? Why did he give it to you?” Nicholas’ wheels were turning; he already had a suspicion.

  Better to be honest—rip it off like a Band-Aid.

  “The one I have is a bit more personal in nature. I asked that it wasn’t hung. It showed up later as a thank you gift.”

  “What were you being thanked for?” Anger rumbled in his chest.

  “You said you liked the woman’s skin. You always wanted to run your fingers along her naked body…” I gestured down my curves as my voice trailed off.

  “That’s you?” he bellowed.

  His eyes were stormy again. I didn’t need to read them, though. This was jealousy pure and simple.

  “Yes, and you said you wouldn’t get angry,” I said as I put my hands on my hips.

  “That’s before I knew someone photographed you!”

  “You know I’m no virgin or saint. You even teased me about it. How is this any different?”

  “Everyone and anyone can see!” His voice didn’t get any softer.

 
“Apparently no one else can see. You and I are the only ones with the photos,” I snarked back.

  “Did you sleep with him?”

  “My super gay friend Patrick? Good God no! He took them while we were in college as part of an assignment. Back when he had a bowl haircut, played drag bingo on the weekends, and admitted he was from Poughkeepsie. He got famous a few years ago from an autoerotic exhibit. When that went stunningly well, he went back through his archives and pulled these out. He re-cropped them, changed printing effects and displayed them. I have the only one that shows anything that isn’t PG.” I crossed my arms and glowered at him.

  “Oh,” was all he could manage as his eyes slowly calmed.

  “Oh, is right.” I nodded my chin. “And thank you for purchasing them. I’m glad you like them.”

  “I can’t believe it’s you.” He studied each one on his wall as if it was the first time he’d seen it. “I wanted you before I even knew you.” His gaze shifted from photograph to me repeatedly, and finally that crooked smirk crept across his face.

  “You’ll get it, you know. That relationship you were hoping for.” The words flew out of my mouth before I took a moment to filter.

  “I won’t. I’m not looking. And I don’t deserve it, anyway.” He frowned as he sat and reached for egg rolls.

  All my breath left me. I plopped down onto the couch, sitting opposite of him and shoved my hands through my hair. I’d known that letting my guard down was an immense problem. Hearing that he wouldn’t reciprocate made me sick.

  “Hey,” he said softly, noticing the shift in my body language. “Don’t let my issues get in the way of a wonderful evening.”

  “Well, wouldn’t you just prefer I leave? I mean the sex was great but you don’t need to pretend for my sake. If it’s going nowhere and never will, let’s just call it.”

  I stood meaning to leave but he grabbed me. I didn’t turn, knowing my resolve would falter if I looked at his gorgeous face. He reached for my other hand to make me. I refused to lift my eyes; being stubborn was really just self-preservation.

  “I’m trying. You’re the first woman that’s ever made me want to.” Nicholas reached up for my chin. “It scares the shit out of me, though. I still think you’re going to get hurt.”

  The sincerity in his voice made me take a deep breath. “You’ve said that a few times. Please elaborate.”

  “I can’t. Please, trust me.”

  “I have no idea whether to trust you. You’re hot and cold. You pull away. You speak in cryptic messages except when you say, up front, you’ll never have a real relationship.”

  “Kate…Sweets,” he begged. “I said nothing of the sorts. This is all new to me. I didn’t go looking for you, but you barreled into my life like a freight train nonetheless. I haven’t had a real relationship, and I don’t deserve one, but I already care about you. That’s why this is all so screwed up. Bear with me, please.”

  My shoulders sagged and he pulled me to his lap. He kissed my hair and started tracing small circles on my spine. When I sighed, his smiling lips brushed against my skin. He’d spent years reading people, and was more than familiar with the signs of caving.

  “The food is getting cold,” I said as I pushed away from him.

  Nicholas let me go and unfolded a tray from the arm of the couch. My boxes sat unopened while I chewed on the inside of my cheek instead.

  This is going to be bad.

  Even if I wanted to protect myself, I couldn’t walk away now. And despite everything, the proud, willful part of me really wanted to. I curled into the cushions opposite him with a blanket I’d found draped over the couch. I barely tasted my food once I started picking at it. His eyes stayed fixed on me and I tried not to notice.

  “I wanted to spend an evening with you, talking like we did at breakfast. If you’d prefer, I could spank and, or fuck you. That’ll chase this mood away.”

  He kept calmly eating as I struggled not to choke on my food. My cheeks caught fire and he smirked as he finished the container he was holding.

  “I was just thinking,” I said as I put down my food.

  He pulled me across the couch to him. “Movie or sex?”

  “Movie.”

  Sex would make me forget everything—again—and I wanted time to think this all over. If that was even possible with him so close.

  Nicholas’ brow furrowed but he got up and grabbed a large touch-screen remote, pressing only a few buttons before a movie came on. He returned to the couch and settled in with his arms and legs wrapped around me. The tension melted from my forehead the moment he touched me. I rested my head against his neck and let him hold me.

  Shit.

  I was more than frustrated with myself as the first scenes of Say Anything came on.

  My eyelids got heavy toward the end of the movie. My body was relaxed, and at home, even if my mind insisted on racing. I fell asleep before the end and didn’t wake when Nicholas lifted me and took me to bed.

  12.

  I woke once again showered in brilliant light, only this time no sweet deep breaths were next to me or warm skin wrapped around me. I shot up, recalling our hopeless relationship conversation from last night and assumed the worst. All the same panic—the tight chest, the loss of breath, and racing mind—came rushing right back. My head whipped to the side and my gaze fell on Nicholas.

  He was sprawled across a chair he’d pulled close to the bed, fast asleep. There was an empty snifter on the ground next to him and lines pinched and crinkled his face. Even asleep he looked pensive, and I could relate. My thoughts were jumbled too. I hated that I was powerless to him. I loved the intense pleasure. But the lines got blurry after that. Particularly because I was starting to suspect I might love the man, too.

  Love. Fuck!

  I swallowed hard. I could not be emotionally attached after such a short time. Emotions were unpredictable, unintended, and a surefire way to get hurt.

  Shadows shifted across his skin as I studied his perfect face and followed a now familiar line down his equally perfect body. I smiled at the outline of his erection, visible even through sweats. It reminded me there was one definitive way I could regain some footing.

  With my mind made up, I slithered out of bed and over to him. I slipped my shirt off and wiggled between his legs. His erection sprang free as soon as I pulled on his waistband. Before he completely woke, I wrapped my lips firmly around him and began to suck. A groggy, primal groan escaped his lips. I added flicks with my tongue that had him swelling further inside my mouth.

  “Fuck, Kate!” I let my teeth graze his shaft after he swore. “Oh Sweets. Uh. I thought waking up with you yesterday was good. Ah!”

  I drew him to the back of my throat a few times. I added a hand to his shaft and twisted in the opposite direction. He laced his fingers into my hair and started dominating my rhythm. I gasped for breath when he pulled me up. The slightest tears pooled in my eyes, but I twirled my tongue on his head and plunged back down.

  He had a very Nicholas, very sexual taste. It was toe-curlingly delicious. I got sidetracked by how the saltiness mixed with just a tinge of sweet and a smokiness reminiscent of a good bourbon. I made myself refocus. I was blowing him because I wanted to control; he should be frantic and falling apart because of me, rather than me lost in him. I pressed my lips back down along his shaft—my nose now able to tickle his skin. It only took a few of those deep swallows for me succeed.

  He pinned my head between his hands and pumped hard and fast into my mouth. I kept up just fine. Then he stood from his chair without breaking pace. I rocked back toward my heels and looked up to his face, still taking it all. When he saw my big, teary eyes bat up at him he shook violently and his thighs bunched. The vibration made my teeth graze him again.

  “Shit, Kate. I’m going to come.”

  I hummed and sucked harder to make sure he knew my answer was yes. For a moment, his eyes went wide, but then he shot thick into my throat. I made a point to keep suck
ing as he trembled. Only when he slid back down to the chair did he fall out of my mouth. His fingers slowly unwound from my hair and he took a few deep breaths.

  Watching his every move, I simply licked my lips and sagged to my heels. He hadn’t caught his breath, but reached down for me anyway. He pulled me onto his lap and leaned his forehead against mine. The sheen on his skin mixed with sunshine to give him an otherworldly glow.

  “Why weren’t you in bed with me? Imagine what I would’ve done to you then,” I said seductively while his ragged breaths beat against my shoulder.

  “Lying there, you reminded me of your photographs.” His fingers grazed my skin. “You were so peaceful. So beautiful to watch.”

  That made me laugh lightly. “I’ll try not to be creeped out.”

  “You shouldn’t be. It was a compliment. For a moment, I forgot you were real. I thought maybe…” Something colored his voice but I couldn’t place it as he trailed off.

  I twisted, hoping his eyes would explain. He kept me pinned. Maybe what? was on the tip of my tongue but he continued.

  “I’ve never let a woman stay here overnight. You are, among many other things, unique.”

  He said it with such a mix of tenderness and vehemence that I smiled my new, weird blushing smile.

  “It’s not even eleven. Should we crawl back into bed?” He finally looked me full in the face, arching his eyebrow, and smirking rather mischievously.

  “No, this time I really should go.” Before he could sway me, I continued. “Not because I want to, but because I have other obligations. I have this tiny little thing called a company to run.”

  I followed the words with kiss that lingered on his neck. He, of all people, had to understand it was difficult to be out of touch for thirty-six hours; it was approximately thirty-four more than I’d ever been before. The fact that I’d let it get to this point unnerved me. His face sharpened and his eyes clouded, but he nodded.

 

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