by Nina Levine
The alcohol had loosened my tongue and I pursued a conversation with him even though he’d made it clear he wasn’t keen on chatting with me. “I’m trying to work you out, Wilder,” I said as I walked towards him.
“Don’t try too hard, darlin’. Not much here to see.”
“I’d beg to differ. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who didn’t make eye contact with my chest. I know you said you’re avoiding the VP’s friends but for you to honour that even when he’s not around tells me a lot about you. And that intrigues me.”
No words came out of his mouth; it seemed he was doing battle in his mind with what to say or do. His eyes flashed a warning, and when he spoke, his voice was like a delicious cocktail of danger and desire. “Gorgeous, I’m fighting like fuck not to look at your chest. I’ve seen that sweet body of yours and it’s a body I could spend days admiring. I’m no different to any other man where that’s concerned.”
His sexy voice slid right through me. It was a good thing I believed in total faithfulness when I was with a man, because if I didn’t, I’d be more than tempted by him. “No, there’s something decidedly different about you. And I like it.”
He sucked in a breath, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, you’re a dangerous woman.”
I was about to tell him where Scott was when a menacing presence filled the room.
“Wilder.” Nash’s formidable voice boomed around us.
I turned to look at him and found him glaring at Wilder.
“Nash.” Wilder met his glare; his shoulders tensing.
“What the fuck’s going on here?” Nash demanded to know.
I figured I needed to step in; if it hadn’t been for me, Wilder wouldn’t be in this position. “Nothing’s going on, Nash,” I said, walking to him. The need to touch him, to let him know he had nothing to worry about was overwhelming.
His glare landed on me; he was furious, and it scared me, but it didn’t stop me. “Stay out of this, Velvet,” he warned, those beautiful green eyes of his full of anger.
I moved into his space and placed my hand on his chest. “Wilder wasn’t doing anything,” I said, softly.
Nash’s chest heaved. He removed my hand and repeated himself, “I said, stay out of it.” His eyes didn’t leave mine and his voice was dangerously low.
I wasn’t sure what had caused him to have such an extreme reaction but it hurt to have him talk to me like that. I took a step back, away from him. He watched me for another moment, and then turned back to Wilder.
Wilder was looking between me and Nash, and when he finally figured out what was going on, he held his hands up. “Fuck, Nash, I didn’t realise she was your old lady.”
I felt it necessary to clarify that. “No, I’m not Nash’s old lady.”
Nash swung his head to face me again, fuming, before fixing his glare back on Wilder, and declaring, “Yeah, well now you know she is.”
Wilder looked pissed, and although I figured that was directed at me, he didn’t dare look in my direction. Instead, he said to Nash, “Sorry, man. There was nothing going on though. I just asked her if she knew where Scott was.”
They were talking about me like I wasn’t even in the room, and that annoyed me. Now we were all pissed. Tuning out their conversation, I sat and put my shoes back on having decided I would get back to work. Once they were on, I looked up to find Nash still abusing Wilder. His eyes, however, were firmly on me. I stood, checked my makeup and hair, and then attempted to get past them to leave the room. They could continue their argument without me.
Nash watched me walk towards him, and reached for me as I tried to keep going. His grip was firm on my wrist, and I glared at him to let me go. He stopped talking to Wilder so he could give me his full attention. Wilder used the opportunity to leave and Nash didn’t argue; he just kept staring at me.
I tried to pull out of his hold but he was too strong for me. “Nash, you need to let me go so I can go back to work.”
“They can wait.” He was still fuming.
“There’s no need. We’re finished here.” My voice was tight, harsh. I needed to put some distance between us right now; I was worried what I would say in the heat of the moment.
“We’re not finished here, Velvet.” The way he said my name made my skin crawl. There was no soft in it, only hard and angry.
I tried to pull my arm free again, and this time he let me go, but his body language was clear; he had no intention of letting me walk out of the room.
“Okay then, say what you need to say so that I can get back to work.”
“I don’t want you talking to Wilder, or any of the other guys for that matter.”
My eyes widened. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You’re kidding, right?” But even as I said it, I knew he wasn’t.
“No, I’m not fuckin’ kidding,” he thundered.
My body tensed, and my heart began pounding in my chest. This was the Nash I didn’t like. I spoke calmly, deliberately. “If you’re not kidding, we have a problem, Nash.”
“We do have a problem, babe. I won’t put up with you flirting with any of the boys.”
It was like a kick in the guts; he didn’t trust me. The accusation was barely concealed in the tone he’d taken with me. “You’re saying you don’t trust me?”
“I’m saying that if you don't flirt, then there won’t be a problem,” he said, firmly.
This was Nash laying down the law; laying down his law. And I didn’t like it. Not one little bit. “Well, I’d say we will have a problem then.” I stood my ground; there was no going back now.
His face clouded over. He’d obviously expected he could tell me what to do without any argument from me. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means that I am not the kind of woman you can order around. What the hell happened to us having a rational conversation about this? You know, like the one we had about my insecurities. The one where you said you hated women who automatically suspected you of cheating? Because it sure as hell feels like it’s one rule for you and another for me.”
“Velvet, you’re twisting my words. I never said I didn’t trust you. I simply said I don’t want you flirting. Can you manage that?
“Fuck you, Nash!” I yelled, finally losing my cool. “Yes, I can manage not to fucking flirt but what you don’t get is that I won’t be told to do anything. You can ask me to do anything but the minute you just make a ruling and call it done, that’s not fucking on.”
He stood there, taking in what I’d said, eyes flashing anger, and his face hard. The tension clung to the air while we remained silent, having said what we both wanted. Checkmate.
My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest I was so angry. And hurt. He’d really fucking hurt me. I decided to finally put that space between us I wanted to before. “I’m getting back to work now,” I told him. My tone made it clear there would be no argument.
He blew out an angry breath, and stepped aside to let me through.
Neither of us said another word, and the pain I felt in my chest as I walked away reminded me why I avoided getting close to men.
Chapter 26
The Great Escape ~ Pink
Velvet
I pushed the doona off me, got out of bed and traipsed into the kitchen to get a drink. Bella followed me and almost made me trip when she insisted on getting in my way. I bent down and picked her up. “Baby, don’t make me fall over. I’ve had a shitty night as it is. I don’t need to add a broken leg to my list of things I’d rather forget.”
When we hit the kitchen, I placed her back on the ground and made a cup of tea. Nash would not leave my thoughts; I’d been tossing and turning for hours. I checked the time. Just after four am.
Shit.
I hadn’t heard from him after our argument, and my stomach felt sick over it. Although I was angry at him, I wanted to work it out. I hated the silence that fights caused between people. And the doubting. I fucking hated the doubting
.
Shit.
I drank my tea while mentally sifting through the jobs I had to get through in the morning. My reasoning was that if I was busy thinking about that, I wouldn’t be busy thinking about Nash.
I was so wrong.
“Fuck it, give up, cause you’re never gonna stop thinking about him,” I muttered to myself as I washed my mug up. “Shit, now you’re even talking to yourself.”
I was deep in thought when there was an almighty bashing on my front door. At least that’s where I thought it was coming from. A couple of moments later, I peered through the curtain to see Nash standing on my verandah.
I opened the door to find him waiting for me with an intense look on his face. He didn’t wait for an invitation to come inside; just barged straight in and stalked to my kitchen where the light was on. I didn’t particularly want to talk to him while he was in this kind of mood so I took my time following him.
When I got to the kitchen, I didn’t give him a chance to say anything; I spoke first. “If you’ve come to keep arguing, I’m not interested. I don’t want to fight anymore, Nash.”
“I do trust you, Velvet,” he started, his voice rough, not at all what I was expecting. The anger I thought he was projecting was something else instead. There was almost a brokenness to it; to him. My heart listened closely while he kept talking, because I was sure he was about to crack himself wide open for me. “I’m fucked up though, where this shit’s concerned, and I find it hard to trust.”
His voice cracked on his last word, and he stopped talking. His eyes frantically sought mine; searching for what, I wasn’t sure, but I sensed his desperate need for me to wait patiently for him to get this all out.
So, I waited.
His hand pushed through his hair, and he blew out a long breath. “I was married. Her name was Gabriella. We met when I was twenty, back when I didn’t have a clue. I would have done anything for her. I married her and planned a long fuckin’ life with her, but she threw it all away when she cheated on me. And not just once.” He placed his hands on his hips, and bent slightly forward, expelling more long breaths. It was like he couldn’t catch his breath; almost like he’d just run a fast race and was struggling. I realised that’s exactly what was happening; he definitely was struggling for breath.
I placed my hand on his back, and said, “Nash, you need to focus on your breathing. Count your breaths.”
He did as I said, and began taking longer breaths. I counted them in my head as he took them, more out of habit than anything. Memories of my mother’s experience with this flooded my mind. I hated watching him go through this just as much as I’d hated watching her. Watching someone struggle through anxiety made you feel useless and desperate; desperate to be able to take it all from them and carry their burden. But you fucking couldn’t and that was the bitch of it all.
The house was silent apart from Nash’s breathing. I welcomed the silence; it allowed me the space to think. My anger dulled as the pain spilled from him. It was in this moment I realised how broken he was. He hadn’t done the work to move past this hurt, and I wondered how long he’d been carrying it.
He was starting to get his breathing under control, and straightened. His eyes found mine. They were wary.
I gave him a small smile, and reached for his hand. “How long ago was this?” I asked, softly.
His chest heaved again, but he maintained his breathing. “Ten years ago.”
I didn’t want to rush him, so I squeezed his hand, and waited for a moment before saying, “Tell me about her, Nash.”
He stared at me, and all I could see was his damaged soul. But his eyes were reaching for me; he needed me. I gently guided him to sit at the table, and prodded him to talk again. “What was Gabriella like?”
His hands fidgeted on the table, and he stared at them for awhile before finally opening up. “She was fun, spontaneous, up for anything. She was everything I wasn't back then.” He paused, and looked at me. I was stunned by what he’d just said, and he must have been able to read that on my face. “You might find it hard to believe, but back then, I was the responsible one. Growing up, I had to be. My father left when I was twelve, and my mother was pregnant with Carla. Jamison and I helped run the house and raise the girls during our teens while Mum was working two jobs making ends meet. I left school when I was fifteen to take on a mechanic apprenticeship to help her with the bills. So yeah, I had to be responsible and organised. When I met Gabriella, I was working as a mechanic, and desperately wanted her to be a part of my life. She made me feel alive again after all the shit I had to deal with at home.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked, wanting to keep him talking, and wanting to know more about his life.
“Dad never had anything to do with us after he left; not one fuckin’ word. Still hasn’t to this day. Erika was ten when he left, and Carla never knew him.” His eyes blazed with anger now. “He fucked them up. Erika got into all kinds of shit; boys, alcohol, drugs, skipping school. You name it, she fuckin’ did it. All she wanted was a father who fuckin’ cared. God help him if I ever find him.”
“So you were helping your Mum deal with all this?”
“Yeah, Jamison and I tried to help. We spent nights trying to track Erika down, nights trying to keep her away from the parties, nights at the fuckin’ hospital while they dealt with the shit she’d put in her body. Mum was wrecked; physically and mentally.” He stopped, and pierced me with his gaze. “The whole thing was fucked up.”
“You wouldn’t know it now; your family was amazing when I met them.”
He gave me a tight smile. “It’s been a long fuckin’ road to get there.”
My heart was hurting for what he’d been through; for what he’d missed out on in life. “And Gabriella?”
His words cracked my heart a little bit more. “I fell hard for her; hard and fast. I’d fucked around with a lot of chicks before her, but she was different. She made me want more. I chased the shit out of her. She was all I wanted, and I felt like the luckiest bastard alive when she said she would marry me. Problem was, she didn’t have a fuckin’ clue what loyalty was.”
“How long were you married for?”
This question seemed to rattle him, but he kept talking. “I was with her for five years, three of those we were married.”
He stopped talking and I sensed a change in him. It was like he’d put the wall back up and wasn’t going to talk anymore. Suddenly, he stood, and began pacing the room.
I stood and moved towards him. “Nash, what - ”
He cut me off, his voice rough again. “Velvet, I can’t do this with you if we don’t have total honesty. I’m not saying you haven’t been honest with me; I’m just telling you what I need. And I’m not trying to control you when I tell you I don’t want you flirting with the boys. What I am telling you though, is that I can’t be in a relationship with someone who does that.”
The vulnerability in his words touched me. Nash had a way of doing that in the most unexpected moments. He laid his heart out for me, and I had no intention of trampling it. I would happily give him what he needed, and although I regretted the fight we’d had to have to get to this point, I was also grateful for it because it had forced him to open up.
I nodded. “I hear you, Nash. And I understand what you’re saying.”
The look he pinned me with revealed his need. “Can you give that to me?” He expelled a ragged breath, and I watched as his shoulders slumped a little.
I was close enough now to touch him, and I placed my hand on his cheek. Softly. Lovingly. I whispered, “Yes, I can give you that, baby.”
His chest heaved once again, and he curled an arm around my waist. Pulling me into his arms, he pressed a long kiss to my forehead before tightening his hold on me. I lost track of how long we stayed like that. It was time we needed to reconnect after everything that had been said.
When we finally pulled apart, he murmured, “I’m sorry, baby.”
I looke
d up into his eyes. The anger was gone, but there was still something there. I wasn’t completely sure, but I sensed he had more to tell. He’d shut down towards the end there, but I wasn’t going to push him anymore tonight. I whispered, “Me too.”
He bent his lips to mine, and kissed me. It was a gentle kiss, but I felt his desire tangled in with the softness. I felt his need too; it matched mine. Our lips and tongues slowly explored each other; there was no rushing, no wild frenzy. There was urgency though. Our bodies pressed together, and we clung to each other while we drew the kiss out. I didn’t want it to end; Nash was whispering sweet nothings through this kiss. And for a man who didn’t do hearts and flowers, I knew it meant something.
When his lips left mine to trail kisses along my jaw and down my neck, I tilted my head to the side to accept everything he wanted to give me. His hands moved to the bottom of my t-shirt and he slowly removed it, his eyes firmly focused on my chest. He dropped my shirt on the floor and bent his mouth to my nipple. When his tongue circled it and he began sucking, I moaned, and moved my hand to the back of his head to hold him there. He lavished attention on both my breasts, causing my whole body to light up with desire.
When he’d finished, he looked up at me, and murmured, “I’m a lucky man, sweet thing.”
“We’re both lucky, Nash,” I said.
“Fuck, I need to get you under me, baby,” he growled.
He didn’t wait for a response, he scooped me up into his arms and walked us into my bedroom. My body sung with desire and anticipation in a way it never had for anyone else. He placed me on the bed, and I watched as he removed his clothes. His muscles always drove me wild, especially when they flexed while he undressed.
Once his clothes were off, he grabbed a condom out of his wallet and put it on, watching me while he did this. My tummy fluttered as he watched me; Nash’s attention on me always had this effect. It only intensified when he joined me on the bed and removed my panties. And when his tongue licked my clit a second later, my eyes squeezed shut as I let the pleasure take over. I was no longer in control of my of body; Nash had complete control now.