Home to Me (The Andrades, Book 2)
Page 10
What are we doing, Nick?
Seeing you all week without being able to touch you has been driving me out of my mind. You don’t want anyone to know about us, and I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ll play by your rules, Rena, if you play by mine. No one needs to know about tonight. Go to the opera, Rena, and go commando.
Commando? As in, no panties? Is he crazy?
There is no way I would ever even consider doing that.
No way.
***
That night Rena exited a cab in front of Lincoln Center and clutched the front of the long coat she’d thrown on over her gown. She stood outside by the fountain and looked for Nick but didn’t see him. After gathering her courage, she stepped into the grand lobby of the Metropolitan Opera House. She’d seen these chandeliers many times before, but that night they shone extra bright. All of her senses were heightened. The fall air felt crisper. The deep rich reds were lusher. The paintings on the walls looked more sexual than she’d ever noticed.
She sent Nick a quick text to announce that she had arrived, then searched the crowd. Some were acquaintances of hers, but many more were complete strangers, and she suddenly didn’t want to hide anymore. She shrugged off her long coat and checked it.
She turned back toward the crowd and felt—free.
And beautiful.
She’d swept her hair up off her neck and had carefully applied just enough makeup to bring out her eyes and high cheekbones. Some of the men around her stopped paying attention to their dates and gave her blatantly appreciative looks. Rena held herself proudly and had to admit she’d never felt sexier than she did that night.
She could feel people watching her as she walked past them. Women glared at her. More than one made catty remarks as she walked past and Rena bit back a smile. Never in her life had she imagined she could enjoy that type of attention.
Naughty really could feel nice.
She walked up to her private box alone and was disappointed to discover it was empty. Six seats were placed in two rows. Behind them was a curtain, designed to block the light from the hallway should the door open during the performance. She sat in the back row, but was still visible from the box seats across and adjacent to her.
What did I think he would do—buy out the theatre like he’d bought out the coffee shop?
As she sat alone, waiting for the lights to dim, she began to feel a little ridiculous. She checked her phone for a message from Nick but there wasn’t one. She was tempted to go back down to the lobby to look for him, but she forced herself to remain seated.
The door behind the curtain opened and Rena held her breath. An older gentleman in a tux unfolded a small tray and placed a bottle of champagne on it. “Your champagne, ma’am.” He popped the cork silently and poured a glass. One glass.
If Nick were joining her, wouldn’t he have requested two glasses? She accepted her drink graciously but felt confused. Maybe he’d changed his mind? Maybe we’re only meeting afterward? If so, it’d be a long wait. The opera was nearly four hours long.
After the waiter left, Rena sipped her champagne and resigned herself to once again pretend to be interested in Aida. Yes, the singing would be beautiful. Yes, translations were now projected onto a screen so a person could know what the singers were saying. But Rena had been born missing the gene that allowed people to enjoy prolonged bouts of dramatic singing.
The lights dimmed and a hush fell over the audience. In the quiet of the first act Rena heard the door behind her open. The woman in the box next to hers frowned at her, and Rena smiled back apologetically. Had Nick sent up sandwiches to go with the champagne? Shrimp cocktail, perhaps? Or was this when she’d receive the note explaining why he hadn’t been able to make it?
“Rena,” Nick’s voice whispered from behind the curtain. “Come here.”
Rena turned in her seat but all she could see was the plush velvet door curtain. “Nick?” she whispered.
The woman in the box beside her shushed her and Rena held in a giggle. She skirted out of her chair and pulled the edge of the curtain back to peer behind it. Instantly she was yanked behind it and gasped as she was pulled into the arms of a man she hoped was Nick. She couldn’t tell because of the absolute darkness the curtain provided.
Nick placed a hand over her mouth and whispered in her ear, “If you want to keep us a secret, don’t get us thrown out.” He kissed one side of her neck and said, “I am going to take you right here, right now.” He kissed his way across one of her exposed collarbones and murmured, “Even when you come—and you will come for me, Rena—don’t make a sound.”
With her heart beating crazily in her chest, Rena nodded. Nick removed his hand and kissed her. He dug his hands into her hair and plundered her mouth thoroughly until Rena was shaking with need against him. She clung to the cotton material of his dress shirt and gave herself over to the experience.
This was the passion her life had lacked.
He ran a hand down her back, over her ass, and along her thigh until he found the high slit in the dress. He shoved his hand beneath it and made a soft approving sound deep in his chest when his hand found no barrier to her already wet center. He dipped a finger inside her, then two, stroking her intimately while he continued to explore and ravage her mouth.
He leaned her back and spread her legs wider for his hand. His technique was one of confident expertise. He alternated rubbing her clit with thrusting his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm. Each time he reentered her, Rena clenched around his fingers and hot ecstasy shot through her. She fought to contain her moans, to keep her head enough to stop from crying out as wave after wave of pleasure rocked through her.
With his free hand, he lowered the bodice of her gown, exposing her breasts to his hungry mouth. He took a nipple roughly between his teeth, nipping at her in a way that had her throwing her head back and losing control. “Oh, yes,” she gasped out.
Nick covered her mouth with his hand and chuckled. “Do I need to stop?”
She violently shook her head. Oh, God, no.
He rewarded her by moving his mouth to her other breast and nipping expertly at it as well. Rena shook and writhed against Nick, seeking more. She wanted to rip off her own dress and give his mouth full access to her. She wanted to cry out for him to plunge into her right then. No more waiting.
He increased the tempo of his magical fingers, and Rena bit her lip to stop herself from sobbing as a wild orgasm overtook her. He kissed her as the spasms rocked her body and she finally sagged against him.
He removed his hands from her, and she would have fallen to his feet in a satisfied puddle if she hadn’t been holding onto his shoulders. She heard him undo his belt and zipper. Although she couldn’t see it, she felt the tip of his rock-hard shaft against her stomach when he freed it. He sheathed it in a condom, then lifted her against the hidden side wall of the opera box.
Rena pulled his mouth back to hers and shivered with anticipation as he raised her gown and adjusted her to accept him. The emotion and volume of the singers rose, mirroring the passion of their kisses and the frenzy of their touch. She opened herself to him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He thrust deeply into her and withdrew, thrusting again with more force. She met his movements with her own, loving how he filled her. Again and again, each time deeper and deeper, until Rena felt a second orgasm building within her.
As the song reached a crescendo, Rena gripped herself around him, came with a shudder, and absorbed the moan that accompanied his own release. He held her there, intimately pinned against the wall, while their breathing returned to normal. Slowly he withdrew, then lowered her to stand.
He adjusted his clothing while she pulled her dress back into place, and then she was back in his arms as he whispered, “I fucking love the opera.”
She laughed softly. “Me too.”
He whispered, “Now you’ll have something to think about when you come here with your family.”
“I don’t think I cou
ld ever come here with my parents again,” Rena whispered back with another quiet laugh.
He licked her neck with his hot tongue. “You will, and when you do, you’ll think of me inside you. I like that image. You sitting there all prim and proper, wishing I was there to fuck you. Getting wet and remembering how you came for me right here.” He set her back from him and said, “Go back to your seat, Rena.”
“We’re staying?” Rena asked softly.
He didn’t answer, and Rena couldn’t see if he nodded or not. She took a step out from behind the curtain only to hear the door behind it open and shut.
Nick was gone.
Rena was half tempted to chase after him, but that wasn’t part of their deal. She retook her seat and smoothed her dress down over her legs. The woman in the next area glared at her. Rena raised her hand to her hair and realized it was now hanging loose around her shoulders.
Rena smiled shamelessly at the disgruntled older woman. Glare at me all you want, those passionate secret lovers down there would completely understand what I just did.
Nick had forever changed how Rena saw the opera. Suddenly the songs held more meaning, and the emotion, which formerly had seemed overdramatic, was now poignant. She understood the fear, the uncertainty, and the pleasure that could be found in giving in to a lust that could not be contained.
She stayed until the end, and for the first time cried at the sheer beauty of it.
***
After leaving the opera, Nick bypassed the bar and the VIP section of Skal. He found Serge in the club’s office and plopped onto the couch just inside the door. He knew he had a huge silly grin on his face but didn’t care.
Sex with Rena was better than any alcohol buzz. More addictive than any illegal substance. It made him feel—invincible.
“Well, you look pleased with yourself,” Serge said and left his desk to sit in a chair beside him. “Does that expression on your face come with a story?”
“No,” Nick said unapologetically. He propped his feet up on the coffee table in front of the him.
“Does she have a name?”
Nick shrugged. “Does it have to be about a woman?”
“No man looks that dopey happy for any other reason.”
Dopey happy. Well, that was as good a description as any. “Touché, but that’s all I’ll say. I actually care about this one.”
Serge propped his own feet up. “So you came here because you’re happy about something you can’t talk about?”
“Yes.” Nick’s smile widened.
“Is she married?”
“No.”
“Underage?”
“Hell no.”
“Actually a man, but you didn’t realize it until it was too late?” Nick laughed out loud, and Serge threw up his hands. “It happens more than you’d think,” he said, lightheartedly defending his suggestion. “But, hey, love is love. I don’t judge.”
“She’s not a man.” Nick relaxed deeper into the couch. “She’s more than I expected, that’s all.”
“Tell me you’re not talking about that sweet woman who came to see you here. That one I warned you to stay away from?”
Nick shrugged.
Serge slapped a hand on one of his thighs. “I knew you wouldn’t listen to me.”
Nick raised one eyebrow at Serge’s uncharacteristic display of emotion. “You’ve never cared who I’ve dated.”
Serge continued, “I’m trying to save you from making a mistake you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting. It never works out with men like us and women like that.”
Nick surged out of his seat. “I’m not doing this tonight. I was in a great mood.”
With a sad expression on his face, Serge stood slowly. “Wake up, Nick. You want the suburban dream—wife, house, kids—as much as a shark wants to bake on the beach. And that woman—”
“Rena.”
“Is the kind who won’t settle for less than a ring on her finger.”
“You don’t know her.”
“I know women.”
“Right. I’ve never seen you with the same one for more than a month.”
“Because I know myself, too. I tried to change for a woman once and ended up nearly destroying both of our lives. You’re heading down the same path.”
“I’m not you, Serge, and Rena knows the score. We’re having fun. No harm. No foul.”
“Hardheaded. Just like me.” Serge folded his arms on his chest and shook his head.
Nick sighed. Serge had been too good to him for too long for Nick to stay irritated with him. Unlike his family, Serge was uncomplicated. Nick didn’t second-guess his motives. If Serge was getting involved it meant he really was concerned. “How has business been?”
“Good. How about you? I heard you’re doing well at Cogent.”
Nick rolled back on his heels before answering. “It’s interesting. Gio is a powerhouse, and the company is ahead of the pack when it comes to finding new energy resources. I have a lot to learn, but it’s a challenge I’m enjoying.”
“So, you and your brother patched things up. That’s good.”
Nick grimaced. “Nothing has changed, but we have a truce for now. I’ve kept my visits with my mother brief. That helped immensely.”
“That’s what you came to talk about, isn’t it?”
Burying his hands in his pockets, Nick nodded. His questions weren’t about Rena—they were about how being with her affected everything else. “I thought I needed the truth to be happy, but maybe I don’t. I started working at Cogent to find answers, but I didn’t expect to enjoy being there. I look forward to going to work every day. Rena is part of the reason, but so is everything else about the job. Gio and I used to talk about running the company together one day. Do you think I’m nuts to believe that’s possible?”
“Ah, you’re asking the wrong man. I don’t talk to my family. I haven’t in twenty years.”
Nick rubbed his chin roughly. That was my old solution. With the security granted by the substantial trust fund his grandparents had left him, he’d never needed his brother’s approval. Walking away had always been easy. Too easy.
He was only now beginning to see what it had cost him.
Serge stood. “But you’re right—you’re not me, Nick. I don’t claim to understand why you want to be with people who drive you crazy, but you do. Just remember that seeking the truth about family is like looking at your ass when you’re over thirty. It always leaves you wishing you hadn’t.”
Nick covered both of his eyes with his hand and groaned. “That’s a vivid image I didn’t need.”
Serge chuckled. Nick joined him in a tension-relieving laugh. After a moment, Serge said, “Seriously, Nick, you came here for my opinion, so I’ll give it to you. End it now.”
“Working at Cogent?”
“And seeing your lady friend. Both situations have the potential of blowing up in your face.”
Nick had found his own answers merely by entertaining Serge’s response.
“It’s not that simple,” Nick responded. “I can’t walk away. No matter what the truth is. I see that now.” Then he walked away from Serge, heading out of the club. “And I won’t stay away from Rena.”
That would be like trying not to breathe.
Chapter Nine
Rena smiled and buried a tomato beneath a leaf of lettuce with a swipe of her fork, absently playing with her food. Even though she was having dinner with Kane and her parents, her mind was far away.
Would Nick call her that day?
What was he planning next?
Being with Nick was about more than the sex. She felt younger, sexier. There was a spring in her step that hadn’t been there for years, and keeping the reason for it a secret was killing her. She’d spent the morning smiling at strangers and boldly meeting the eyes of the owners of the coffee shop near her house. She could tell they knew what she and Nick had done on their premises. But rather than feeling embarrassed, Rena wanted to lean in an
d say, “You think that was shocking? You should see what we did at the opera.”
What had Nick said? “I’ll play by your rules if you play by mine.”
Oh, Nick, I like the way you play.
I like it a lot.
Her mother was retelling a week’s worth of charity-related stories. Her father was listening kindly, as if she hadn’t told him each story twice already. Kane was also dutifully attentive.
And I can’t wait to return to the city to see if there is a message waiting from Nick.
She playfully stabbed at the tomato. It sailed into the air and bounced off her mother’s shoulder. She knew she should apologize, but she was too busy reliving the feel of Nick’s hands, the heat of his lips on hers. Waiting to experience either again was sheer torture.
“Rena,” her mother said in gentle reprimand. When she didn’t instantly receive an apology, she studied her daughter more closely. “Would you like to talk about whatever is on your mind before I wear your entire salad?”
“What?” Rena said, still somewhat bemused by her thoughts as she laid her fork down beside her plate. “Oh, sorry. I guess I’m distracted today.”
“Out late last night?” her father asked, but his question held no bite. She’d never been a wild one so her parents didn’t worry.
“I went to the opera,” Rena said, a wide grin spreading across her face.
“I didn’t realize you liked it,” Kane said casually.
Rena bit her bottom lip. “I do now.”
Kane’s eyes narrowed at something in her expression.
Her mother leaned toward her and exclaimed, “You’re glowing. You met someone, didn’t you? What’s his name?”
Rena blushed. Her father sat back in his chair and beamed a smile at his wife. “I believe you’re right, Helen. But we shouldn’t pressure her. We kept our relationship a secret in the beginning and look how we turned out. Rena has impeccable taste. I’m sure we’ll love whomever she’s seeing.”
Helen took one of Rena’s hands in hers and said, “Just tell me, am I right? Are you seeing someone new?”