Wine and Whiskey (Surviving Absolution #1)

by Nikki Belaire

  His eyes burn with intensity as he searches her face. His fingers cover hers, squeezing them in worry, doubt lingering in his emphatic touch. “You’re not going to try and leave?”

  “I’ll admit it was my first thought. To run upstairs and grab my suitcase. But I knew it’d be pointless.”

  “Because I’d find you wherever you went?”

  She shakes her head and smiles, needing to confirm her commitment to them despite the obstacles they face. “Because I’m not going to run anymore. I want to be with you.”

  The stiffness leaves his body, and he slumps down on the edge of his desk. Pulling her against him, he rests his head on her shoulder, his heavy breaths warming her neck, slowing her racing pulse from his dissipating fear.

  “I don’t want to cause problems with your business. So, if you—”

  His grip tightens around her waist. “Don’t even say it. All of this is meaningless to me without you. No matter what happens, you and I belong together.”

  Her fingers glide over his scalp, stroking his hair, trying to soothe the uncertainty swelling in him again. “I was just going to suggest you don’t have to go to New York with me, if you need to work. I know it’s a long time to be gone.”

  “I'm going.”

  A small smile crosses her mouth at the ferocity imbedded in his answer, a reminder of his stubbornness amongst the turmoil, of how much she loves him for it. “Okay. We don’t have to decide right now.” Weakness softens her muscles, throbbing from the tension gripping them for so long. She presses her cheek against his, the light stubble tickling her skin. “It’s been a long day. I think I’m going to get ready for bed. Are you coming?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be up soon.”

  As she starts to step back, he entwines their hands, a shiver running through her at his lips pressed against her ear. “Don’t let what Carter said make you doubt us. Nothing has changed how I feel about you.”

  Her heart aches from his worry, unable to fully trust her belief in him or her promise not to run. “I know.”

  * * * *

  Tonight, whiskey doesn’t soothe his temper. Not strong enough to help him forgive his cousin for hurting Shae or make Carter’s accusation untrue.

  It was easy to work sixteen hours a day when he was alone. A focused mind and an empty bed are the ideal combination in this world. Only indulging in the occasional hook-up to satisfy his needs and release his tension, with no attempt at any real connection.

  Now, he’s found this beautiful distraction who makes everything else unimportant, who spurs his dream of leaving it all behind. Of giving up everything to become a better man with a different life. He takes a long drink, welcoming the heat sliding down his throat. She’s already sacrificed so much, he can’t ask her for more.

  “Aren’t you coming to bed?” Concern infuses her question, her soft voice bittersweet against the breaking surf.

  For the first time in his adult life, someone besides Marta worries about him. Waits for him to come home, cares when he’s late. Proof of how alone he really was. Until her. Until she gave him everything he didn’t know he was missing. After all she’s been through, his stomach clenches from burdening her with more anxiety. “I’m sorry, sweetness. What time is it?”

  She accepts his outstretched hand and snuggles into his chest as he leans against the railing. The raspberry scent from earlier lingers on her skin. Next time, he’ll make sure it’s a bath for two.

  “About one-thirty. You’ve spoiled me, and now I can’t sleep without you.”

  Only an angel like her would call what he’s done to her spoiling. “Hell would be a better description of what I’ve put you through.”

  Her hair brushes against his shirt as she shakes her head, her futile attempt to lessen his guilt. “Why are you out here beating yourself up? What’s wrong?”

  She knows him too well. Her intervention keeps him from stewing, using the burn of alcohol to quiet the torture he inflicts upon himself. “Nothing. Let’s head upstairs.”

  “You made me promise not to keep things from you. I want you to do the same.”

  All he wants is to protect her from the truth, to keep from completely destroying her sweet innocence. Although not knowing could hurt her even more. “When I told you I couldn’t quit, I wasn’t completely honest. There’s another option.”

  Her head flies up, her eyes bright with optimism. “What is it?”

  The hopefulness in her voice stabs his heart, guilt slaying him from proposing what he knows is an impossible option. “We could disappear. It would have to be sudden and permanent, and then we would be free from all the threats.”

  A frown pulls down her face at the realization of his suggestion. “Leave everyone behind…forever?”

  “Yeah, that’s why I didn’t mention it. I knew you wouldn’t want to leave your career or your friends.”

  “I couldn’t do that to Carrie. She would be devastated, and I would miss her too much.” She lays her head back against his chest, her disappointment obvious at the impractical choice he offers.

  He pushes the limits of what she can absorb, but he has to tell her everything, one last detail to keep her safe. “I know. It’s okay. I’ve had a fake passport and other paperwork made for you if you change your mind or ever need it.”

  Her fingers feel like ice against his back as she rolls the hem of his shirt between them. “Why would I need it?”

  Ignoring her question, he plows through his instructions. He has to finish before she shuts down on him. “I’ll show you where everything is hidden. I also have five-hundred thousand in cash and my offshore account information. If you ever have to leave, take all of it. I know how you are. Don’t feel guilty about it. Just do whatever you have to do to—”

  “I don’t want to hear this. You have no idea how much it scares me.”

  He holds her tighter as she tries to pull away. If he or Max can’t protect her, he must make sure she can take care of herself and won’t leave a traceable paper trail if she needs to escape. “Okay, I’m done.”

  She stops struggling against his embrace. Her deep breaths against his chest reflect her attempt to calm her anxiety. As much as he hates scaring her, he can at least be at peace now that she knows everything. No more secrets between them.

  Stroking the back of her head, he whispers against her soft hair. “I’m sorry. You said you wanted to know the truth. This is it.”

  She nods and holds him tighter. After a few minutes, she rubs his back, her fingers like silk against his skin. His body relaxes at her intimate touch. The connection between them remains unbroken.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been on the beach at this time of night. It’s so peaceful.”

  He kisses the top of her head, grateful she’s found a bit of happiness in this screwed-up day. “I think I could fall asleep out here.”

  “That’s what my fantasy is.”

  Fucking shit. This woman takes him to the edge of self-control with just one word. A low growl rumbles in his throat. “What fantasy?”

  “Making love by the ocean with the breeze blowing on our naked bodies. Then falling asleep to the sound of the waves crashing.”

  Fire blazes through his body at her words. There’s no way in hell he won’t make this happen for her. “Your wish is my command.”

  Her eyes are wide as she lifts her head and shakes it. “No, not here.”

  “Why not?”

  “What if Max comes out, or one of the security guards? And all the cameras? I don’t want to have to worry about being seen.”

  Her questions remind him once again of her unassuming nature, never considering the power he wields, controlling everything that happens in his business and his home. He kisses her forehead before releasing her waist. “I’ll be right back.”

  “What are you up to?”

  After winking at her questioning smile, he jogs into the house, tapping on his phone. Inside his office, he slides his Glock out of his desk drawer and lays it
in the decorative chest some overpriced decorator thought should adorn his credenza.

  “What’s up?”

  Max stands in the doorway, failing to stifle an enormous yawn.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d still be awake.”

  Max rolls his head side to side and gives Nick a smirk. “You know I don’t sleep until you do. I have to make sure you won’t fucking bother me once I lie down.”

  Always appreciative of Max’s heartfelt and gracious candor, he nods toward the living room. “Have the guys kill the cameras on the deck and don’t let anyone come out there until I give the okay.”

  “It’s done.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anything for Shae.” Max winks at him before pressing the cell to his ear. “Have fun.”

  Her face lights up brighter than the sun when he steps outside and places a blanket and the box on the table next to the chaise lounge. Scooping her up, he wraps her legs around his waist before sitting them down on the double cushion. He drapes the afghan around her shoulders, running his hands over her cashmere skin. “Your fantasy can begin.”

  She glances toward the door. “What about—?”

  “I’ve given strict orders we aren’t to be disturbed, and the cameras have been cut. I can protect you with what’s in that box. So, you don’t have to worry about anything but enjoying yourself.”

  Pinkness tints her cheeks as she tilts her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her sudden shyness intoxicates him, a heady combination of adorable and sexy, making her pleasure his only goal. He slips his hands under her negligee, lifting it off and tossing it aside. The pressure in his groin almost erupts at her nipples straining taut against his chest.

  Keeping him from taking one in his mouth, she slides her delicate hands under his chin, studying his face, scanning his features as if searching for something beyond the surface. He freezes under her gaze. She delves deeper than any other woman, almost farther than he can endure, fearful she’ll pierce the mask hiding the real him. And despise what she finds underneath. His voice chokes in his throat. “What?”

  A soft smile graces her angelic face. “Has anyone ever told you how wonderful you are?”

  No. Because no one’s ever thought it but her.

  Her mouth finds his. Chaste kisses, smiling against his lips. “And romantic.” Pressing softly, barely touching. “Thoughtful.” Driving him to the edge as he resists every urge to devour her. “Sexy.”

  Just when he can’t hold back any longer, she thrusts her tongue inside, making him moan as his fingers slide across her cheeks and into her hair, absorbing all of her sweet essence. Fighting to control his desire, he breaks away, dipping his head and flicking his tongue against the hardened nub, keeping her in place as her back arches.

  She drives her hands through his hair, wrapping her fingers around the burgeoning curls on his neck he hates, her breathy whisper like fireworks against his skin. “These are perfect to hold onto when you make love to me.”

  Okay, maybe they aren’t so bad.

  She lifts up from straddling him as he grasps the waistband of her panties. Her fingertips burn his skin in their urgency to help him push them down. In her raised position, he teases her wet core, stroking the soft folds before plunging a finger inside. She gasps, her legs trembling, and begins to lower herself back down. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he holds her up as she rests her head on his shoulder.

  His body flames with need at her lips on his ear. “Your fingers are magic.”

  “That’s not my only trick.”

  As she whispers his name, her hands move to his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them as he lifts up to free himself from the fabric separating them. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a foil packet before kicking his pants all the way off. Her eyes never waver from his as he guides her hips over his throbbing tip. She slides down his length, her lips parting in a sharp gasp, her small fist wrapping around his shirt.

  Pain grips his chest at her hesitation. “Are you okay?”

  A slow smile curls her lips as she nods. “I’ve never been on top. You’re a lot to take in at once.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Coiling her arms around his neck, she slowly raises and lowers her body, letting him stretch and fill her, building tension in him begging to be released. Silky perfection moving under his fingertips. All he can see is her. Nothing else exists. No barriers between them. Only her sweetness surrounding him, flowing over him like the purest honey. “Do you know how much I love you?”

  She nods, her eyes heavy with desire, locking with his.

  God, she’s so beautiful. “How right this is?”

  Her head dips again, her gaze boring into his, humbling him with the enormity of her love.

  “How I’m never letting you go?”

  Her pace quickens at his words. Their bodies slick with sweat, skin sliding against skin, as she accepts him completely. He grasps her hips, grinding into her while helping her ride him faster and deeper. The rhythm of his hard thrusts matches her racing heart against his chest, her muscles pulsing and tightening around him.

  “Nick, I…”

  He can’t hold back, and he’s taking her with him. “Tell me, sweetness.”

  “I know you love me.”

  His body jerks then stills, pleasure overcoming him with his release inside her, at the sound of his name wrapped in her satiny whisper, like the answer to every question she asks. She falls against his chest, and he holds her as her breathing returns to normal. He tucks the blanket around her waist, letting the cool breeze ruffle her hair and waft against her back. “Happy?”

  “Absolutely blissful. Thank you.” A satisfied sigh blows against his neck. She snuggles in while he strokes her hair, enjoying the peacefulness. “Now, you have to tell me yours. I want to know what your fantasy is.”

  “I’ll show you on Saturday.” He promised her they wouldn’t be trapped in his house, hiding from Juan. This is his chance to keep his word while giving her a bit of the same happiness she brings him. “I’m taking you out on a date.”

  “You are?” A trace of excitement tinges her voice. “What are we doing?”

  “It’s a surprise. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

  Dark pink fingernails trail down his stomach to his treasure trail before her teeth graze his ear lobe. “What if I try to get it out of you?”

  He sucks in his breath at her feathery strokes, his body responding to her delicate touch. “You won’t, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I have to get going. I love you.”

  Nick’s whisper tickles her ear. Even in her grogginess, butterflies take flight in her chest from his lips warming her skin. She’ll never tire of hearing his voice, never grow weary of the absolute certainty as he says those three words, like cool water to her once parched heart. She forces her eyes open, burning from lack of sleep, and reads the clock—5:24. They’ve only been in bed a few hours. “Why are you leaving so early?”

  “I’ve got a call with some international investors. It’s afternoon where they are.”

  She sits up and reaches for her robe. Maybe she can work out on the deck and watch the sun rise, although trying to rouse Carrie to join her won’t be quite as enjoyable.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting up.”

  He laughs and sits down on the bed, pulling the fabric out of her hands. Her cheeks lift into a smile from the gentle brush of his fingers across her skin before he shakes his head. “It’s not a competition. I’ve got something to take care of. You don’t. Now go back to sleep.”

  Once again, his thoughtfulness stirs that ache, that longing she’s never known before. Not even with Evan. He was always careful, hesitant, timid. Exactly what she needed at the time, yet also not enough, always leaving her wanting more. Now, with Nick, desire overwhelms her, coming from a place deep inside s
he didn’t know existed. Hungry and raw not just for his touch, but for everything behind it, the meaning he conveys with each insistent stroke, each tender caress.

  She forces herself not to reach out to him, not to ask him to stay longer. Already a problem with his work, she can’t be the reason for more arguments, the cause of added danger because she distracts him. He lifts the covers, and she snuggles back in, smiling at his last nuzzle of her neck before the door closes behind him.

  She wakes again. Clammy fingertips glide down her arm and over her curled hands. A hint of gasoline wafts around her as his body curves behind her. Something’s different, not quite right. Not his scent. Not his feel.

  Not Nick.

  Her eyes fly open.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  Gasping at Spencer’s voice, she tries to jerk away. Her legs tangle in the blankets, and his grip tightens, pressing her against him. Every muscle clenches, every nerve pulses with the fire roaring through her body. “Get off me!”

  “You don’t like your surprise?”

  He cups his hand over her mouth as she tries to scream. His fruity breath blows on her hair as her head twists side to side, her body arching off the bed, futile against his calloused fingers digging into her skin.

  “Stop fighting me. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to ask you something.”

  Tears prick her eyes, and she squeezes them shut, succumbing to the realization of her own stupidity. She knew it. All this time she thought something was wrong with him, and she didn’t say anything, couldn’t really accuse him of anything except stirring an overzealous imagination. Now, he’s in their bed, and there’s nothing she can do. Except try to talk him out of whatever he’s planning.

  His smile greets her as she opens her eyes, panic surging from the maniacal look in his. She lays still and nods her head. After a minute, he lifts his hand, keeping it a few inches from her face as she gasps for air, filling her lungs, calming herself.