Perfect Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Snow, Nicole

  “Nothing, I just...I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “You’ll get a proper bed next time. That’s how I always imagined it, but Reese, I couldn’t fucking wait. Not after the way you’ve kissed me the last few days.”

  Nice confession. If these are his new scandalous secrets, sign me up.

  I kiss him tenderly, pressing a needy hand to his face.

  “It’s okay. I—I loved it. Couldn’t you tell?”

  He hugs me tighter, mischief gathering into a smile on his face.

  I finally process his words. “Hold up. Did you say next time? Like this isn’t a one-time stress thing?”

  “If you think I can live without that again, you’re insane,” he growls.

  I’m smiling into our next kiss.

  “Reese, when you said you’ve never done anything like this before, you mean in a car, right?”

  “And with my boss. And—um, ever.”

  “This was your first time?” His gaze sharpens.

  “Uh-huh. If I’d known it was like this, I wouldn’t have waited so long. But I’m glad I did so you could do the honors.”

  “Holy shitting balls. You’re telling me I just took your virginity in the back seat of the company car? Christ. I’m sorry.”

  I kiss his cheek. “I’m not. Believe me.”

  He brings his hot lips to mine. His kiss is intense but not urgent.

  It’s slow, sweet, meaningful.

  When he pulls away, he cradles me closer.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything,” he says.

  “So I know we’ve both been through a lot the past few weeks. Do you think this was like burning through all the emotions and exhaustion, or did it—” My face heats. My words stall.

  I don’t know how to ask him this. We’re still naked, this is new, and I kinda want to hide.

  “Or?” he echoes.

  “Do you think it means something? Because if it didn’t...”

  His mouth is on mine in a flash, his tongue tracing inside my cheeks and lavishing my lips.

  “Hell yes, it meant a fuck of a lot. And if you’ll have me, I want to take my sweet time with you, figuring out exactly what that something is.”

  Dear Lord.

  Can one man’s words give me a whiplash? And if they can’t, I think those eyes will.

  “Something big?” I whisper. Because I don’t think I can survive if it doesn’t mean that.

  He chuckles, skimming his hand on my thigh.

  “Something huge, Reese. Something tectonic. Something with a massive fucking heap of potential.”

  I shudder. I could almost cry, as silly as that sounds.

  I never get the chance. In a swift movement, I’m on the seat and Nick is on his knees, half on the floor. He wraps a hand around each of my thighs and he pulls me toward him so I’m at an angle on the seat before edging them apart.

  “Nick...what are you doing?”

  “Making up for taking your cherry in the back of a business car by further defiling you in the back of said car. Isn’t it obvious?” He grins, letting his tongue linger in his parted lips with a wicked suggestion.

  I laugh nervously.

  “Man, I have no idea what you’re talking abou—oh.”

  I gasp when his head comes forward and his lips meet my opening. His tongue flicks across the tiny pearl of pleasure, a tease, and then the main course when his whole mouth goes to work.

  He kisses down the cleft until he’s stroking my core.

  His tongue sweeps in. I’m shaking.

  It only gets worse—or is it better?—when he grabs my ass and pulls me against his face.

  I’m riding his beard, his tongue, his teeth, all trained with the wildest precision.

  Oh. My. God.

  And his grip only tightens, sealing me against his thrusts as his tongue dips in and out, taking what’s always been his.

  I’m moving against his mouth the same way I moved against him earlier.

  It’s so intense I’m on the verge of tears, and it’s still not enough. I wind my fingers through his thick, dark hair and pull him closer—toward me.

  He knows what I want as he rises, meeting my mouth.

  His tattooed arms hook around me and he jerks me forward so my back flops against the seat. Suddenly, I’m ready, wide open for him.

  There’s a rushed crinkle of another condom wrapper and he’s in me.

  We’re doing it again, our bodies two colliding lava flows.

  This time, it doesn’t sting, and if our kiss ever breaks it’s so one of us can gasp for air.

  For a second time tonight, my body clenches around him.

  Once again, he carries me away in no time, pounding into me like he means to break us both, and God, do I want him to.

  Later, when I check myself in the mirror, I see the living proof he definitely broke something. One eye, bloodshot with crisscrossed lines. My price paid for letting Nick Brandt shake me into the next century.

  It’s that good.

  I come that hard.

  I’m falling that fast.

  When we finish, he holds me, then gropes around the floor. He finds my panties, works them over my feet, and slides them partly up my legs.

  I grab the waistband and pull the rest of the way.

  Heat radiates from my face. “You don’t have to help me get dressed.”

  He kisses my knee.

  “If I know you well enough to undress you, surely it’s okay to put you back together.”

  I never thought about it like that but...having him pull clothes over my body after what we just did feels more intimate somehow.

  But it doesn’t matter what I think, because now he’s pulling my pants over my legs. Piece by piece, Nick dresses me, as good as his word.

  When he’s done, he pulls his pants up and fastens them, then puts his shirt on.

  “Can I button it?”

  The only answer I get is a knowing smile, but he makes no effort to button the shirt, so I fasten it for him, one button at a time.

  We’re dressed, still clinging to each other in the back seat. He cracks the door for fresh air, and I laugh as I realize we turned the Lincoln into a sauna.

  Jesus. I’m going to need to clean this thing before I transport anyone else.

  “Nick?”

  He kisses my forehead. “Yeah?”

  “I think you might have to drive. I can barely remember my own name,” I whisper.

  He laughs and kisses me again.

  “That means I did my job.”

  He can’t be wrong. Because I am floating. Still floating.

  “And did I? Was it just as good for—”

  His grin silences me. “I don’t have another memory that sweet.”

  Is that a compliment?

  Or is it because you wouldn’t call Carmen Seraphina and the other legion of women he’s had sweet. Hot or something, sure. But sweet?

  “You’re frowning,” he says, leaning in so his lips almost touch my ear. “Sweetheart, you’ve got nothing to worry about. It was the best of my life, hands down. If we didn’t have to go pick up a kid, I’d keep you here all night and deal with the guilty conscience tomorrow. Because I damn sure wouldn’t have the patience for the bed I promised.”

  Slayed.

  I’m on the verge of tears again.

  I smile. “I think it’s too late for the bed. I might be new at this, but I know we went a second round.”

  His laughter melts into a heated kiss.

  “Cute that you think that’s all I’ve got. Sooner or later, we’ll set aside a whole day for you to find out,” he says. “Now, come on. We have to pick up Millie before Tiffany kills us.”

  He climbs out of the car, helps me out, walks around the vehicle with me, and opens the passenger door. “Get in. I insist.”

  It’s really happening.

  My boss drives his chauffeur back to Brandt Ideas to pick up my niece, and our hands are twined the
whole way there.

  He parks in the garage and we hold hands as we walk through the door.

  “Do we need to act normal—for Tiffany?”

  He lets go of my hand and slides an arm around my waist.

  “Whatever normal is, I’m not letting go. I get your hand or your waist. Your choice,” he says with a possessive growl.

  I’m smitten, and I want to say it. But I won’t dare go that far. Not until I’ve had time to sort this out.

  We barge in and apologize to Tiffany for being late. Nick promises her overtime, smooth as silk, and the nanny leads Millie away from a table with an untouched plate of food.

  “She wouldn’t eat dinner without you,” Tiffany says. “She said she had to wait because she’s having sleep milk tonight.”

  Millie beelines straight to Nick.

  “Trolls World Tour! Movie night.” She slams into his leg.

  “When we get home, definitely,” Nick says with a smile.

  “Sleep milk?” I ask.

  “It’s just milk with cinnamon, sugar, and vanilla. Old family recipe,” he tells me.

  “It’s magic, Auntie Reese! It makes you have sweet dreams,” Millie says.

  “Sweet dreams? I see.”

  “Millie, I’m starving. Do you think we can stop somewhere and get a hamburger and a milkshake instead of sleep milk tonight?” Nick asks, humoring her.

  Millie looks up at him like the lovestruck little cherub she is and smiles. She takes one of our hands with each of hers.

  We walk out of the playroom together in a chain—almost like a real family—with Tiffany following behind us.

  “Am I still driving?” Nick asks when we get to the car.

  “Whatever you want, bossman.” I wink at him.

  After a very thorough wipe down of the seat with a couple things I keep in the car for cleaning, he watches me buckle Millie into her car seat and close the door. He wraps his arms around my waist.

  “I’ll drive my girls anytime.”

  With one more kiss on the forehead, I climb into the car, walking on Nick Brandt’s sunshine.

  20

  Special Favors (Nick)

  I wake up next to Sleeping Beauty made flesh.

  After our time in the car, I wasn’t willing to let Reese sleep alone. She came to my room after putting Millie down for the night, not long after I installed an extra security camera in the guest room for added peace of mind.

  I’ve made my life a whole fucking lot more complicated, but with her small form huddled beside me, how could I regret it?

  I lean over and kiss her cheek.

  “Reese. You should probably wake up before Millie comes looking for us. She’s an early riser.”

  She rubs the back of her hand over her eyes muzzily, blinks a few times, and opens her eyes.

  “Nick?”

  “Who else?” I whisper, bringing my lips to hers, tracing her bottom lip and then slipping inside.

  I expected a crumb of relief from the reckless fling in the car yesterday.

  Instead, it’s only made me hornier. There’s a permanent simmer in my blood every time we’re together.

  She lets out a moan. I want to give her the proper bed experience I promised. Too bad we both have to get to work.

  She touches my face. “So it wasn’t just a dream.”

  I sit up and pull her into my arms.

  “Hardly. Even if it were, it’d be my dream coming true.”

  “Yesterday was something,” she muses.

  “Something fuck-hot? I agree.” I clasp her hand and bring it to my face so I can kiss the inside of her palm. “You still deserve better than the back seat of a car. I’m going to deliver.”

  She giggles. “It was perfect. We met in that car, after all.”

  I snort. “You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”

  It’s true. Being with her is too easy.

  We always find shit to talk about, and she enjoys whatever we do. Even when we were a mess of warring words, there was a certain pleasure in that, too.

  “Is that a good thing?” Her face tenses.

  “The best,” I say, kissing her hand again. It’s the reason I don’t care how difficult, how complicated, how risky this could be. “I could sit here all morning listing reasons why, but you’d better slip out before Millie wakes up.”

  “You’re right,” she says softly, smiling fit to kill.

  “Reese?”

  “Yes?”

  “At work today, we need to act normal. We’ll figure the rest out soon. We won’t be a secret forever. I promise.”

  She grins, showing a dimple.

  “I’m not worried.” Her voice drops an octave. “I know where you sleep, so if you play me, you will regret it.”

  “You’re making it sound fun. I’ve fucked up enough in my life. This won’t be one more regret,” I promise her.

  She bounces out of bed. “Bye, Quick Nick.”

  I flop back against the pillows, combing my fingers through my messy hair.

  Damn, this woman.

  The more she calls me that, the more I want to show her just how slow I can take it, burning her alive.

  The rest of my natural life might not be enough time to torment her with all the sweet fuckery in my head.

  * * *

  My office phone rings. Birdshit’s name flashes across the caller ID.

  Knowing I’ll regret this, I answer anyway.

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re welcome, Nicholas,” he says in his oily, always too smug voice.

  This guy is a piece of fucking work.

  “That’s an interesting way to start a conversation. How have you fucked me over today?” I snarl, already balling my fist.

  “I killed the latest hit piece.”

  I stiffen, digging the phone into my ear. What the hell?

  Since when does the most infamous hunter in Chicago media ever back down?

  “About time,” I grind out, trying to play it cool. “Guess it sunk in that I’d own your little empire of dust within a week if you didn’t back off your bullshit?”

  He laughs in this low, dark, booming chuckle that goes on too long. Maybe this asshole really did crawl out of a crypt somewhere.

  “Believe me, my change of heart had nothing to do with your pathetic threats. My legal team would chew up your lawyers without leaving table scraps. If your overpaid attorney were worth his retainer, he’d tell you that up front.”

  “He did. He just thought he could bury you so deep in paperwork, that you couldn’t afford to do anything else.”

  “How cute. You’d be shocked how fast my ad revenue grows when the good people of Chicago know their favorite tea master has First Amendment issues. Nevertheless, my act of kindness was a personal favor to Miss Beatrice Nightingale Brandt. Ring a bell for me and I’ll wait for my angel wings.”

  I grind my teeth. This prick is incurable. I’m also baffled.

  “My grandmother offered you a kill fee?” I say slowly.

  This is not how I wanted him to fuck off.

  If Ward told Grandma about my sex tape, knowing she’d come running to my rescue, I’ll bash his head in. I know I fucked up, but he didn’t have to go to her.

  Nobody ought to be fighting my battles except me.

  “No, but she’s still good friends with two of my biggest advertisers. Deep pockets and all that jazz. I can’t afford to have my strings clipped to two large luxury brands over ruffling a darling old lady’s feathers.”

  “Watch how you talk about my grandmother,” I snap.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of insulting the Brandt everyone respects—even me.”

  “Since when do you have a soul, Osprey? Even when it comes to protecting your bottom line?” I sigh. “This is about the video, isn’t it?”

  “I can’t confirm that, and I’m not promising to hold off indefinitely on publishing a content starring you and Miss Seraphina if such an amorous curiosity rolls across my desk. This was a one-
time favor to Mrs. Brandt—and to you.”

  “Favor?” I snort. “So you’re still going to publish the fucking thing?”

  “Were you listening? If and when Miss Seraphina passes it on, I’ll decide what to do then. That decision hinges on several factors, including whether or not you choose to do anything worthy of thrusting yourself back in the limelight.”

  What? I don’t understand his game.

  “What story did you table then?” I demand.

  “I can’t comment on content that’s no longer being published, but it would’ve dropped today. I didn’t need a video from Miss Seraphina to confirm it. Suffice it to say, it would not have been flattering.”

  “Come on, Birdshit, you have to give me something.”

  “I’ll say it involves credible doubt that you and Carmen are rekindling an old flame. However, you seem to have a new leading lady who looks awfully familiar from a certain flap months ago at a major charity event.” He pauses, and I can practically see the brutal smile on his face. “She’s a bit untested in the spotlight, don’t you think? I looked her up, though even I feel strange about subjecting Jane Doe to your level of—shall we say, public intrigue?”

  Fuck him.

  How did he find out who Reese is?

  “Leave her the hell alone, or I’ll do more than make legal threats,” I growl into the phone.

  “Yes, yes, you’ll find me in a dark alley or something. I suppose you’ve forgotten I was a military man once, just like you,” he says with an audible yawn. “Also, don’t push my fucking buttons, Nicholas Brandt. I can still go forward with elements of the shelved story if I want. It’s saved as a draft. My benevolence evaporates as easily as it comes if you remind me how stupid you can be.”

  I need to get off the line. Now. Before I commit a terroristic threat.

  Thankfully, there’s a knock at my office door, all the more reason.

  “Bye, Roland.” I slam the phone down, terminating the call, and turn to the door. “Come in!”

  Ward flings the door open, wearing a smug expression. I wait until the door clicks shut behind him.

  This isn’t going anywhere good.

  He sits down across from me.

  “Everything okay? I noticed Reese was late to pick up Millie yesterday, and you were with her,” he says.