Nic

by J. M. Stewart

  The thought of making love to her sank inside of him, both right and terrifying at the same time. He wanted to crawl inside her, until they were one being, one soul. The feeling reminded him of a bad romance novel, corny and clichéd. He’d teased Luc for going gaga over Liz. Now look who was laughing.

  The only problem? He was afraid to touch her. Too well he remembered what happened the last time he gave in to his body’s whims. He had no desire to bring up more negative memories for her. It was bad enough he resembled someone who’d brought her too much pain.

  Anna rested her hands on his chest, searing his skin even through his sweater. She’d caught him, like a fish on a hook, simply by walking in the door. They’d never make it through dinner.

  Unable to resist touching her, he cupped her face in his palm, stroking his thumb over the suppleness of her cheek. “You hungry?”

  “I should probably tell you yes. The house smells terrific, which means you went through an awful lot of trouble for me, but no.” She looked down, something defenseless moving across her expression. “Not really.”

  Her hands stroked his chest, slow and methodical, as if it were a nervous action, an attempt to soothe her nerves perhaps. He wanted to rip his sweater off simply so he could feel her soft hands caress his skin.

  He stroked her back. “Tell me.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about what we started the last time I was here.” Finally, she looked up, her beautiful eyes full of heat and longing.

  To see her look at him that way, given everything she’d been through, flat out awed him. The thought of which did nothing but reinforce how wrong their being together tonight was for both of them. He was in over his head, halfway to falling in love with her. He had been since the night she walked into the restaurant.

  He chuckled, unable to resist stroking his thumb over her bottom lip, aching to replace the digit with his mouth. “You realize I’m hanging on by a thread here, right?”

  She lifted onto her toes. “Then kiss me.”

  God help him, he couldn’t resist the call of her hot stare. Her small hands slid up his chest to the back of his neck, pulling at him even as he leaned down. The first brush of her lips against his and the sensibility that kept him from going too far with her in the past deserted him. He wrapped himself around her, drew her as close as he dared without scaring her, and lost himself.

  In the taste of her breath mingling with his. In the soft mewling emanating from her throat. That had to be the most erotic sound he’d ever heard. He wanted to make love to her until the sun came up if only so she’d keep making that sound.

  He backed her against the front door. His free hand slid down to the luscious curve of her small bottom. When he pulled her tight against the painful erection pulsing behind his zipper, he finally remembered himself. If he didn’t slow this down, he’d scare the hell out of both of them.

  With a quiet groan, he forced himself to release her and took a step back.

  Her hands closed around his sweater, stopping his retreat. Her breaths came harsh and quick, her chest rising and falling to the erratic beat of his heart. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

  He groaned. “This is moving a little too fast, Anna.”

  She pressed herself closer, until every inch of her curves molded to the planes of his body. “I want to forget. He made me afraid. He haunts everything I do. Just being here with you makes me shake. I want you, and I’m terrified of you at the same time.”

  He stroked his thumb along her chin, holding on to the last shred of his willpower. “Honey, that’s exactly why this needs to stop. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow with regrets.”

  “You don’t understand. That’s why I want to jump into this. You’ve been nothing but kind and generous. I shouldn’t be afraid of you in the first place. He’s clouded everything, and I’m tired of letting him.” Her big blue eyes searched his, desperate and pleading. “I want new memories, Nic.”

  The shock of her words settled over him. That explained why she was so hot tonight. Disappointment and hurt pinged around in his chest. He shook his head and took a step back. “Sweetheart, I’m flattered, but I can’t be your learning curve.”

  She followed and gripped his sweater in her fists, emphatically shaking her head.

  “No. That’s not … I meant … Damn it.” Her voice wobbled, and she dropped her hands. Tears welled in her eyes, and she swiped impatient, trembling fingers across her cheeks, her chin jutting in defiance. “That’s not what I meant. I want you. You’re the first man since Tony I can even tolerate being in the same room with, let alone falling asleep in your arms.”

  Ah. Now he was beginning to understand.

  He settled his hands on her waist and simply held her. “But … ”

  Her forehead smoothed, relief washing over her features. “You scare me. The thought of … that … ”

  “Making love?” That she couldn’t even say the words indicated what this moment meant for her.

  Despite everything, heat flared in her eyes, hot and tangible.

  “Making love.” She repeated the words slowly, thoughtfully. Finally, she nodded and looked down, caressing her hands over his chest. “Yeah. The thought makes me nauseous. It’s an immediate reaction. I can’t help it. Certain touches are triggers for the ugly stuff. I want new memories, Nic, and I want them with you. Not anybody. You. You make me feel safe.”

  She didn’t give him time to respond. Instead, she stood on her tiptoes, molded her supple lips to the curve of his throat, raining hot kisses over his neck, the underside of his chin, and along his jaw. All the while her hands slid beneath his sweater, making contact at last with his skin. Nic couldn’t stop a tormented groan from leaving him. Her small fingers were baby soft and warm despite the chill of the night.

  Christ. She had him shaking. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to hold on to himself. “Are you seducing me?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, her wandering fingers closed over the button of his jeans and popped it free. His stomach muscles jumped in response. When she slid the zipper down, she brushed his erection, and his breath caught. When she slid her hand into his pants and those supple fingers closed around him, his knees nearly buckled out from under him.

  He pinned her wrist, stopping her movement. “Holy Christ. Sweetheart, it’s been a while for me. You keep that up and I’m going to embarrass myself here in about two seconds.” He’d never been quite so honest with anybody, which summed up what had him so caught in her snare. Positive he had himself under control, at least for the moment, he opened his eyes and met the need in hers. He cupped her face in his palms and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I love your enthusiasm, baby, but I need to take this slow, and so do you.”

  She nodded and dropped her hand but didn’t back away. A hot flush suffused her cheeks. “I’m sorry. It’s … it’s a bit like someone opened the floodgates. The freedom of knowing I’m safe with you …. ”

  He understood. More than he could tell her. He leaned down, allowed himself a moment to enjoy the play of her lips with his, the quiet, heady buzz enveloping him, then forced himself to release her. He did up his pants and took her hand. She followed quietly behind as he led her into the kitchen. There, he set the wine bottle on the counter and opened a drawer, fishing out the bottle opener.

  As he reached for the bottle, intending to pop the cork to let the wine breathe, Anna moved to the stove. She lifted the top on the pot of pasta keeping warm, inhaled softly, then replaced the lid and turned off the burner. She opened the oven next and peeked inside. Her chest rose as she inhaled, then she closed the door and again, turned the oven off.

  Caught in watching her and wondering what she had planned, Nic never managed to open the wine. Anna returned to him, took the opener from him, and set it beside the wine bottle on the counter, then took his hand and led him out of the kitchen. He followed her swaying behind up the stairs and around the banister at the top. She stopped in the doorway to his bedro
om and finally turned to him. The confident, seductive light that had been in her eyes downstairs had vanished. Now, standing before him, she was trembling. Her eyes danced with a palpable anxiety. Whatever bravado she’d managed to drum up had apparently deserted her.

  He tugged her close and wrapped his arms around her. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

  With nothing but the lights outside the bedroom window and the nightlights dotting the hallway to illuminate the darkness, he couldn’t see the color of her skin, much less whether or not she blushed. Her gaze skirted away, though, and her hands trembled as she caressed them over his chest; no doubt her cheeks had turned a beautiful shade of pink.

  Nic simply waited. Whatever happened between them needed to happen on her terms, not his.

  After an agonizing moment, she finally shook her head. “I won’t pretend I’m not scared to death, either.” Her gaze flicked to his, eyes reaching. “I want this. I want you. Just … don’t pin me down.”

  God, what was it about those eyes that dropped every defense he had? Their vulnerability, the absolute trust, slayed him.

  “Baby, I would never.” He lifted a hand, brushing her hair back off her shoulder, luxuriating in the silky texture between his fingers, then cupped her cheek and thumbed her bottom lip. He ached to take her mouth. Her bravado downstairs told him more than words could that he was right. Deep down, given a safe place with which to flourish and the right man to bring it out of her, she had a passion he suspected could burn him up from the inside out. “I tell you what. I’m officially putting you in charge of this. I’m not going to touch you unless and until you tell me to. You tell me what you want and where you want me to touch you, okay?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “You really are too good to be true. Thank you.”

  “I meant what I said. I ache to erase the pain he’s caused you. That requires me to play by your rules, because what’s important is that you feel safe with me. Especially here. I don’t think my heart could take it if you looked at me the way you did last time. So please … ” He pulled her flush against him, for the quiet intimacy playing between them whenever he held her. Anna belonged there, in his arms, in his life. “Put me out of my misery and tell me what you want me to do.”

  She stared at him for a moment then lifted her chin and pressed her body into his. "Kiss me."

  Nic smiled. Following her lead didn’t mean he couldn’t add a little fun to the mix. “Where?”

  She smiled, her body visibly relaxing, and tapped her index finger on her lips. “Here.”

  So he obeyed, brushing a kiss across her lips, but only one, then pulled back enough to meet her gaze. “Where else?”

  Her eyes dropped to half-mast. This time she lifted her chin and turned her head, her index finger trailing from her earlobe down along the column of her throat. “Here.”

  He followed the path with his lips. Her breathing hitched, and her fingers curled into his chest, fisting his sweater in her hands. The faintest of moans slid from her lips, nearly undoing him. Holding on to the last shred of his sanity, he pulled back again. “Where else?”

  She didn’t immediately answer. Instead, her chest rose and fell at an increased pace, and she trembled against him. Nic waited her out. It had to be her choice.

  Anna finally took his hand in hers, skimming it up her side, along the indent of her waist, up her ribcage, and over the curve of her left breast. The nipple puckered against his palm, and a shudder swept through her. When he followed her lead and closed his palm around her soft flesh, flicking his thumb across the tightened tip, her eyes closed. This time an encouraging moan slid from her lips. “Oh, God … ”

  That sound from her mouth shorted out his brain. The absolute bliss on her face, the way she dropped her head back in abandon and moaned again … clearly she was dangling by the same thread he was.

  Yearning to hear that sweet, sexy sound again, he molded his mouth to the curve of her jaw, kissing his way to her ear. He raked his teeth over the delicate lobe then sucked it into his mouth. He skimmed his other hand up her side, claiming both breasts now. “You tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

  “Don’t stop. Please, Nic, don’t stop.” Her hands pulled at him. Her hips rocked forward, her belly pushing into the hard pulse of his erection. “I need you. God, I need you.”

  Her whispered plea sent him over the edge. The last of his willpower snapped. Full of, surrounded by, and lost in her, he groaned into her throat. Desperate to taste and touch all of her, he skimmed his lips over her chin and scraped his teeth over the curve of her jaw. “Touch me, Anna. I need you to touch me.”

  Damn his fumbling words. They weren’t seductive or sweet or even patient. They were filled with a very selfish need. He ached for the heat of her skin against his, to be so close he became a part of her. He wanted to stake his claim on her, brand her as his, but if she knew, would she slap him? Would she run?

  Her hands caressed around his ribcage, and she pulled back enough to meet his gaze as her fingers gripped the hem of his sweater. She pushed it up his chest, pausing to plant kisses here and there over the bits of flesh she revealed.

  He reached behind him and yanked the garment over his head, letting it fall from his fingers to the floor. She met his gaze again, the same vulnerability pounding through his chest echoed back at him as she slid her palms upward. Her hands were like warm velvet. Shivers chased each other across the surface of his skin.

  He closed his eyes, a quiet groan wrenching from his throat. “You’ve got me on my knees, Anna. I’m yours. One hundred percent yours.”

  He shouldn’t have said that either, but he couldn’t deny the truth of the words. Right now, he was, and it scared the hell out of him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Anna tingled all over as she stared at Nic. Head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut, he looked like he hung on by a thread ... one wrong move, and he’d explode. She’d done that. Her touch, her kisses, had put that tortured expression on his face. The idea filled her with a sense of power she’d never held before.

  She’d tried to pretend she was only coming over to explore taking a step away from Tony. She’d vowed to only have dinner, enjoy Nic’s company. Yet the minute he’d opened the door, the idea went up in smoke. Deep down, she’d hoped to finish what they’d started in his bedroom, to dive into the promise of his kiss.

  Anna screwed up the last ounce of her courage and took off her jacket, letting it drop to the floor behind her, then reached for the hem of her T-shirt. Her hands trembled so hard it took two tries simply to pull her shirt off over her head. When the garment dropped to the floor with a soft shush, Nic’s head finally came up. Desire flared in his gaze, searing her from the inside out. The hunger in his gorgeous amber eyes gave her the courage to continue.

  She kept her gaze locked on his as she undid the buckle on the belt around her waist.

  “I’ve never been beautiful to anyone, but the way you look at me … you make me feel beautiful.” That fact alone was amazing. She’d been an obsession to Tony, something to be possessed, like a house, or a car. Nic wanted her.

  Her belt dropped to the floor with a noisy clank, and she reached behind her, sliding down the zipper on the back of her skirt. It dropped to the floor, pooling at her feet. She fisted her hands at her sides, determined not to fidget as she let him look.

  Nic’s nostrils flared as his gaze raked over her, and Anna’s nerves got the better of her. She glanced down at herself, at her cheap white bra and plain white panties. No doubt his wife had been tall and blonde, with legs that went on forever, breasts that made men drool, and expensive, sexy lingerie.

  Her hands fluttered over her breasts, over the starched line of her bra. “I’m sorry. I don’t own anything fancy.”

  Nic snapped out of his stunned stupor, settled his hands on her waist, and pulled her close. He bent his head, skimming his lips along her jaw and down the side of her neck, his voice a husky murmur against her skin. “You really want to
know what I’m thinking right now?”

  “Please?” She dropped her head back in abandon and reached out, laying her hands against the warmth of his chest. It had been far too long since she’d wanted a man this way. Heated shivers chased each other over the surface of her skin. Every nerve ending came alive, and all sensation pooled low in her belly, dampening her panties.

  He dragged his tongue along the exposed column of her throat. “You captivate me. Watching you undress, I’m not even sure I remembered to breathe. I couldn’t care less what kind of underwear you wear, because right now, all I’m thinking about are the treasures I’ll find when I take it off.” He pressed his cheek to hers, his breath hot and erratic against her earlobe. “I want to taste you, baby.”

  “Oh God … ” A quiet, shaky exhalation left her mouth. Her fingers curled against his skin as her body shuddered with the force of his hot suggestion. His mouth, his tongue, probing her intimate flesh. Yet another act she’d heard about but never experienced.

  Nic’s hands slid over her curves, skimming down her sides, cupping and squeezing her backside. He thrust against the softness of her belly and groaned against her throat. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.” The word rolled off her tongue just that fast.

  Nic stilled. “Look at me.” When she lifted her head and met his heat-filled stare, his brow creased. “Do you?”

  “Yes.” She slid her hands up his back, enjoying the warm silkiness of his skin beneath her fingers, the firmness of the muscle. His scent, a combination of the soap and shampoo he used, his deodorant, and a musky, male scent she could only describe as being all him, filled her nostrils with every erratic breath she dragged in. She was surrounded, encompassed, and wrapped in him. Exactly where she wanted to be. “You’re not the only one on your knees. I’m all yours.”