by Snow, Nicole
As hard as I go, she takes it like a champ, and I won’t stop for nothing unless she asks.
She kicks her legs with a shrill whimper. “Ohhh, holy hell.”
Holy hell? That I can do.
Gunning my tongue into her folds one last time, I bring her to ecstasy’s edge, then rear up in a movement so quick I’m hovering over her when she blinks up in surprise. The tip of my seething hardness waits at the entrance to her warm, wet pink, leaking pre-come like sap on her pussy.
Fuck. Where is that condom?
I start to turn around, but stop as she grabs my forearm sharply, digging her nails in.
“It’s okay. It’s safe. Please, Nick, I...I want to feel you,” she whispers.
We lock eyes. I may have had my harem over the years, but one thing I’ve never been is stupid. I always used protection. Thank God, too, no telling what kind of rap sheet I’d have with my clinic if I didn’t.
Going in bare with anyone else would feel like madness if she was anyone else. But with her...with Reese damn Halle, this animalistic urge—this need—flares through me.
I know her.
I trust her.
I want her skin-on-skin like a madman needs his precious delusions.
“You know if we do this, there’s no going back, yeah?” I growl, the head of my cock grinding against her opening with a mind of its own.
I’m going to want her all the fucking time, skin on heated skin.
She’s so wet, so willing to wear the mark of my seed from the inside out. Yes, I know how insane I sound. I wouldn’t take it back for anything.
“It’s safe,” she whispers. “I’m sure of it. I always keep up with the pill.”
That makes me feel slightly better—not that I’m sure I’d have turned her down even if a pregnancy was Russian roulette.
I’m that crazy to be in her, that undone, that dead if I don’t take her now.
She wraps all four limbs around me as I glide in, stroking deep, pushing my forehead against hers when I hit her depths.
“So. Fucking. Hot.” Each word comes out like a staccato snarl as her tightness grips me.
“Kiss me,” she moans.
I bring my lips to hers. Her delicate tongue slides into my mouth. And then I’m gone for any communication involving words.
There’s only our swaying rhythm, only each thrust as I slam into her, crashing my hips into hers.
This isn’t anything I can describe as mere sex anymore.
This is a battle of skin and breath. This is a sonnet written in sweat and breathless curses. This is a frolic, a dance, a bestial mating dance that makes my headboard shake so violently I think the damn thing could break.
She comes hard for me, just a few minutes in, letting out this high-pitched groan as her body seizes.
I don’t know how I’m still thrusting through it, powering on with a mind more animal than man.
When she can look me in the eye again, I don’t let up. I match the thrusts of my hips to the strokes of her tongue in my mouth.
We find a new state of being in the marathon to the finish.
Slow and soft and unbearably steady.
No space to even breathe between us.
No thought left except making these bodies clay flesh that exists purely to melt together.
It’s only that hellfire in my balls grounding me, coiling around my throat with an urgency as my speed quickens and my strokes turn meaner. My release comes on like something clawing its way out of me, flogging my tongue, jerking my head back with a roar that echoes off the walls.
“Reese!” Her name splits me in two.
“Nick, yes!” She locks her legs around me and arches up, her pussy convulsing around my length, pulling me in to the hilt.
I frantically kiss her—consume her—for the split second of no return, catching a glimpse of her blue eyes fluttering shut before mine slam closed like a falling ax.
“Nick!” She whimpers.
I fucking explode.
We come together, our bodies twitching, two coiled machines made to trade heat. My dick pumps for what feels like forever, this feral urge to burn my name on her from the inside out whipping through my brain.
No telling how long it lasts.
I just know when it’s over—when I can finally breathe and check my own pulse—I kiss the top of her head with my last bit of strength and collapse next to her in a steaming mess.
She runs her fingers softly down my neck a minute later.
I pull her to me wordlessly, falling into her eyes, marveling at the first woman I’ve fucked with major intention.
God. Wherever this is going, it should scare me.
But somehow it only makes me need her more, and I spend the next few hours showing her how much she’s become like oxygen. More important, more vital, than my next breath.
Before sleep, we shower together.
She washes my back and I clean my hair between a thousand kisses. Once we’re out, she throws on her pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt from my closet and leans over the bed to kiss me.
Even after four fucking times, her tongue still tastes like a top-shelf dessert wine.
“Aren’t you coming to bed?” I whisper.
“I should check on Millie...maybe stay with her if she’s having trouble sleeping,” she says with thick hesitation.
Snarling, I grab her and pull her into bed with me, reaching for my phone.
“That’s what the camera’s for,” I say, pulling up the app. “See? Sleeping like the gumdrop she is. You can’t leave me. There’s also a house rule against clothes in my bed.”
Laughing, she snuggles up to me and presses her lips to my jaw.
“How did I ever live without you, Nick Brandt?”
I fold my arms around her, squeezing tight, pondering the same mystery.
21
Six Whole Hands (Reese)
“Have you found anything yet?” Nick asks from the hall as I empty my sister’s top drawer one item at a time.
“Nope, you?” I realize it’s stupid after I ask.
If he’d found something, he wouldn’t be asking me.
Of course, the hunt for the needle in the proverbial haystack would be a whole lot easier if we knew what we were searching for.
“Nothing,” he says bitterly.
I hit the bottom of the top drawer. I’ve found random obsolete phone cables, rechargeable batteries, and Abby’s childhood diary. I don’t even know how she managed to keep that.
Each time the system jerked us around, we were given one suitcase each. No more, no less.
Neither of us had an actual grown-up suitcase, so we usually moved all of our things in one giant shared trash bag, or sometimes stuffed into a ratty secondhand duffel bag.
Abby’s seventh grade diary was important enough to always have a place in the moving sack, though.
Still. It’s been almost two hours combing this cramped apartment, and I haven’t found anything to help my sister’s current predicament or uncover Will’s sudden interest in seeing Millie.
Sighing, I replace everything I’ve removed and open the next drawer.
“There isn’t much left to go through,” Nick says gently.
“I know.”
“Quick Nick, will you come play?” Millie asks.
With Tiffany out sick today, Millie tagged along. She’s been easy to entertain, but with everything going on, I don’t want to be here with a defenseless child any longer than necessary.
“Nick’s busy, bumblebee,” I call.
“I wanna ride,” she says with a pout.
He doesn’t answer, but a minute later, I hear Millie squealing.
“Wheeeeee!”
I bite back a grin. I don’t have to peek in to know Nick’s carrying my niece around the living room on his shoulders. A fun distraction from the miserable reality of rifling through my sister’s meager belongings, trying to find a smoking mystery gun.
I don’t deserve him.
“How about you color me a picture, little lady? I have to get back to work before your aunt banishes me to the cornfield,” I hear him say. His old Twilight Zone reference makes me laugh.
Millie gasps. “She’ll put you on time-out!”
Another giggle escapes at that one.
I search the rest of Abby’s room, but no surprise, there’s nothing to find.
“Any luck?” I walk into the living room.
Nick shakes his head. “No. I think I’ve been through everything.”
“Are you sure? Everything?”
“Except this, I suppose.” He stares at a box piled with kid’s books. He leans forward, clasping a blue hardback tucked underneath a couple books on the stack, and pulls it out.
The books that were on top of it slide to the floor.
I recognize it immediately.
“Ohhh, it’s Abby’s Alice in Wonderland. Our mom bought it for her before she died. She always read it a few times each year,” I say.
“Good story. Grandma used to read me the same thing when I was a kid. Does Millie like Carroll too?” Nick opens the book, leafing through it. A piece of paper flutters out and falls onto the worn shag carpet.
I bend down and pick it up.
“What is it?” he asks.
I unfold the paper. A number—a familiar one—is printed plainly on the top followed by a list of what looks like names, but it’s so scribbled through I can’t read them. The word Winthrope is printed under the list.
“Wait.” I pull out my phone and do a quick check. “This looks like that phone number Will called me from. And a Winthrope Chicago header, weirdly enough.”
“Very weird,” he says, taking the paper from me with a frown. “That’s the address of the future Chicago hotel, all right. Looks like the notepad’s some early swag they printed up and handed out—they do it sometimes for the crews and marketers. How does Abby have this?”
“I have no idea.”
Nick stares at the paper, then tilts his head back, holding the scrap up to the light. He slides it back into the novel like a bookmark.
“Didn’t Frisk tell you he was out of town on a job site?”
“Yes.” I nod.
“Something tells me it’s not a coincidence if he works construction,” he says quietly.
“What are you thinking?”
“Not sure, but it bothers me. I’m going to request the work crew manifests. This doesn’t feel right to me.” He puts Alice in Wonderland back in the box along with the two books that tumbled out and lifts it.
“Nick?”
“We’re taking this with for a closer look.”
Fine by me. It’s the closest thing to a clue our two-hour search has yielded.
“Let’s get out of here.”
I nod. “Come on, Millie.”
I glance her way. She sits in the middle of a pile of coloring books and crayons. I grab her things and shove them in her backpack.
Nick holds the door open for us and I walk out with Millie behind me. She stops and taps on Nick’s leg because she can’t reach any higher.
“You guys. Hangry.”
Smiling, he stops, shifts the box in his arms, picks her up, and steps out, shutting the door behind us.
“Why am I not surprised? What does Princess Millie want today for her banquet?”
“Waffles!”
“I think we can handle waffles.”
I lock Abby’s door while Nick punches something in his phone.
“Ah-ha. I found your waffles, Millie.”
I give him a long warning look for spoiling her.
Then again, he’s already spoiled me rotten, so who am I to judge?
* * *
We pull into the cramped side street of a small diner.
“This doesn’t look like a place for billionaires,” I say.
“And I’m not your typical billionaire bad boy. Aren’t you lucky?”
I grin at him.
We walk inside and a young brunette behind the counter says, “Sit wherever you like! I’ll be right with you.”
The diner is mostly empty this time of day, so we have our pick. Nick chooses a booth beside a window and sets Millie down.
“Okay, kiddo, you’re on this side. Grown-ups on the other,” he tells her.
“Not fair. I’m almost a whole hand.” She holds up five chubby fingers.
“And I’m over six whole hands, so I make the rules.” He flashes her that disarming smile.
Millie gasps. “Will I be six whole hands someday?”
“Yep, and then you can sit wherever you want,” I say.
Nick slides into the “grown-up” side of the booth with me.
“You handled that well,” I whisper.
“I have my moments.” His side-eye makes me laugh.
I can’t help but stare into his emerald eyes.
We barely shift our focus to the waitress arriving at our side.
“I’m Melissa, your server.” She takes a folded piece of paper out of her apron and hands it to Millie. “Would you like to color?”
Millie takes the paper. “Wanna eat a waffle.”
Melissa laughs. “Well, the kids’ menu is inside the coloring sheet. Isn’t that cool?”
Millie isn’t impressed, but she does try to unfold the paper. When she can’t, she lets out a frustrated sigh and slides the paper over to Nick with a pleading look.
Nick begins unfolding it for her.
Melissa hands me a menu and sets one down in front of Nick. “Do you know what you’d like to drink?”
“Coffee,” I say.
“Times two.” A four-pack of crayons fall out of the now open placemat. “Look what I found.”
He holds the box up for Millie to see. She reaches over, and Nick hands over her loot.
I smile at the sight.
“And what would she like?” Melissa asks, nodding at the kidlet.
“You want hot chocolate, Millie?” I ask.
“Yeah!” Millie holds her hands out. “With whippy cream.”
“We can do that,” Melissa says with a grin before walking away.
Millie furiously scribbles at the paper placemat with a red crayon.
“Millie, can I see your placemat for a second?” I ask.
She looks up at me and narrows her eyes.
How did my sister manage this kid all day, every day for four years?
“I’m taking your drawing. I just need to look at the kids’ menu so I can help you order,” I say.
She drops the red crayon and picks up the pink.
“Waffle,” she says again, like that answers everything.
“I need to make sure I find you the right one.” I reach over to take the placemat.
“Stop!” She drops her crayon and slams her pudgy hands over mine. “You can’t, Auntie Reese. I’m working.”
“Kiddo. You’re four. You don’t have deadlines,” I say.
“Can I see what you’re drawing?” Nick asks ever so gently.
She beams at him.
“She’s wrapped around your finger.” No girl—even a four-year-old—is immune to Brandt charm.
Nick puts his hands on the paper and she deigns to let him slide it over.
“Very impressive, Millie,” he says with an exaggerated edge in his voice.
I lean over to see what she’s drawn.
An oddly proportioned woman with long hair sticking out of a driver’s cap and pink earrings holds hands with a much taller and equally odd-sized guy. I think his tie goes down to his feet. They’re both standing inside a big red heart.
Heat pulses under my cheeks.
Oh, God. I didn’t need that feeling.
Nick gives me a longing look and slips his arm around me. “You okay, sweetheart? You’re red.”
“Sorry.” I’m perfectly aware I’m getting redder by the second.
<
br /> He chuckles, pressing his lips to my forehead.
“Can I have my picture? Not done,” Millie interrupts.
Nick is about to hand it back to her when I put up a hand to stop him.
“Wait, I need to see it first.” I lean and quickly scan the menu. “Fruit or bacon?”
“Waffle!” Millie says.
“With fruit or bacon?”
“Pineapple. Give it back!”
Nick passes her menu back to her with a knowing smile.
“What if they don’t have pineapple?”
“Grapes.”
“So, fruit? No bacon?”
“Yeah.” She’s back to coloring.
“That drawing reminds me...I wanted to talk to you about something,” Nick says, taking a pull off his coffee.
“Sure.”
“I’d like to come clean about us sooner. It doesn’t have to be a huge announcement, but I need to be honest with Ward and Susan the HR Cerberus. We have to do this the right way, just like Ward and Paige did when the time came. Also, I’d like to be able to take you out without worrying if someone with a big mouth sees us. I don’t need more secrets, Reese. For all the things I’ve done wrong, this has to be the one thing that’s right. Are you ready to be official?”
He swallows another long sip of coffee, staring at me.
My heart leaps.
“Nick...” I’m barely able to speak.
His arm tightens around my waist. His gaze looks way too intimate for a public diner, even if it’s perfectly warm and innocent.
“Yeah, beautiful?”
I move so I can press my hand to his face, pull his mouth closer to mine, and press my lips over his. He flicks his tongue against my lips and they part.
A shiver bolts through me. It’s beautiful and sudden and sensuous.
A throat clears awkwardly as Nick pulls away with a snort.
“Umm—I can come back,” the waitress says.
“No,” Nick says. “Corned beef hash and eggs for me, over easy. A waffle with fruit for the little miss,” Nick says.