Good Girl's Bad Lessons

by Carmen Falcone

  A daughter… Nico had a half sister. An overwhelming sensation filled Nico, and he rubbed his eyes, his vision dotted. He had a sister he’d never known about. “Why not? Why didn’t you talk to me as an adult? When you knew I wanted to buy the property? When you probably knew why—all this time?”

  Desmorais fell onto the sofa, the creases around his eyes bunching. “I wasn’t ready to see you.”

  “Well, now, you’re too late. I’m the one who doesn’t need to see you.” Why waste any more time with the pointless discussion? Besides, Nico had done just fine without a proper father so far. “Emma, where are you? Let’s go,” he shouted in the direction of the kitchen. “We’re done here.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Nico? Talk to me,” Emma demanded, sitting across from him in the jet. After they’d left Desmorais’s home, he’d rushed into his car. She’d never seen him so…sad. Quiet. Disappointed.

  She’d maintained her silence to give him time to process during the ride to the airport, but now, after the jet had taken off, she had to push him. Otherwise he’d bottle everything up inside.

  “What’s there to talk about? I’m not my father’s son, which is a relief, but at the same time, my biological father isn’t much better.”

  She unbuckled from her seat and put Nicky back inside the crate Desmorais had given her. She hadn’t had much time to say goodbye to Desmorais, but he’d insisted she take the dog with her, and provided her with shot cards from the vet and a health certificate.

  “Did Desmorais show any remorse? He looked shaken, too,” she said, remembering the image of the old man with puffy eyes and regret tightening the contours of his face.

  “I don’t know. It’s easy to show remorse after the deed’s done.”

  “I’m sorry.” She slid onto his lap and gave him a hug. “Are you going to talk to your brother?”

  “We get along well. I don’t want to ruin anything.”

  “It’s your choice. He’s your brother either way. That’s what matters,” she said, kissing his nose. His arms enveloped her, and she soaked in the warmth, pulling them to each other.

  Nicky barked from his crate.

  “I can’t believe in the middle of all this, you kept the dog,” Nico said.

  She cocked her head to one side. “Why shouldn’t I? I totally fell in love…” She started, then stared deep into his eyes, the weight of her words clogging her throat. Chicken, a little voice inside her teased. “…with little Nicky.”

  “I received a text from Zaine,” Nico shouted from his home office. “Their flight is arriving next week. And then the wedding.”

  Emma shut her laptop. She’d been doing some work at his place before another naughty lesson. For the past weeks, she’d ended up spending more time at his house than planned. He always offered to take her out for lunch or share takeout dinner, and a few times they ended up watching a movie in the humongous media room that looked like a mini movie theater.

  The same place where he’d eaten her out once while she watched a new release.

  Her cell phone rang, and she looked at the screen. Simon.

  She answered. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Emma.”

  She heard a lot of background noise. “Simon. Where are you?”

  “I’m in Miami waiting for my next flight to get back to L.A. Listen, I have something to ask you, and it may seem weird, but I need to do it.”

  She sucked in a breath and drummed her fingers on the desk. What could he possibly want to ask her? They’d exchanged a few brief texts during the weeks he’d been away, and she hadn’t given them much thought. First, afraid she’d read too much into them. Then, she had to deal with her own feelings after becoming way more involved with Nico than she’d intended. “Go ahead.”

  “Do you want to go to Zaine’s wedding with me? As my date? I know we’re on a break but—”

  She clutched her phone. “On a break? You broke up with me.”

  “I know. I understand, but this time apart has shown me a lot, and I’ve been thinking. Listen, I don’t want to talk about these things from far away. I thought your brother’s wedding would be a good way for us to reconnect.”

  She glanced at the phone, exhaling. Her heart shrank. What was she supposed to do? Hadn’t this been what she’d hoped for all along—Simon back? Besides, he wanted her back without knowing she now gave any sex diva a run for her money. I’m sure that detail can only make my case stronger. Her hand flew to her mouth.

  “Emma?” he asked from the other end of the line.

  “Yes, I’m here…” she said in a small voice. “Can I think about it?” The idea of flat-out refusing crossed her mind, but shit… Nico had been honest from the beginning. He didn’t want any commitment, ever. With her or anyone else.

  “Oh,” he said at the other end of the line, probably surprised.

  Falling for Nico didn’t change his modus operandi. Falling for him didn’t change anything…did it? She’d even contacted Desmorais saying she didn’t want to be part of the sanctuary project. Even if Nico didn’t mention him or the house anymore, she just knew it’d be too much to work on the place Nico loved so much and hadn’t been able to buy back. She’d almost feel like…she’d betray him if she continued the job. She hadn’t told him that, because whenever she tried to talk about the subject he got upset. Besides, did he really have to know? Wouldn’t change things either way. Wouldn’t change the way he viewed relationships and women. Wouldn’t change the way he thought of her.

  “Yeah…sorry I’ve been so busy lately. I just need some time to consider the situation.”

  “Of course. We’ll talk more soon.”

  “Thanks. Gotta go, have a safe flight,” she said.

  She hung up and tossed the phone onto the desk like it’d just burned her skin. She wished she could swivel the chair into a different dimension, and return only after this whole mess had been sorted out.

  Her heartbeat thrummed at the base of her throat. Soon, her brother and Monique would come back to California. Sooner than that, Simon would arrive. Then, later, the wedding. Her stomach churned, the nausea floating up her throat. She swallowed, evoking some soothing mantra she should have mastered before.

  Anything to help her calm down.

  Damn it.

  I don’t want to have to say goodbye. She’d wave her current lifestyle with Nico goodbye and go back to her old, safe routine with Simon. She didn’t have to, of course. But…what if Nico didn’t want to see her afterward?

  “Emma,” he called from his office. “Come here.”

  She recognized the edge in his voice. She’d learned how to detect the trace of arousal in his tone even from a different room. Warmth spread across her chest. She could refuse him, of course. But if sex had been a great distraction to keep her from pondering her choices, now it’d come in handier than ever.

  When she walked into his room, all thoughts disappeared from her mind. She’d deal with them later—now she’d get lost in the zingy energy passing between them.

  He sat on the square chair next to his imposing, enormous bed in front of the exposed brick wall. Even the linens in his bedroom exuded a quiet masculinity, with a rich brown coloring and silkiness to the touch. She sashayed over to him, owning her ass, knowing she drove him crazy when she added extra pep to her walk.

  “Emma,” he said, standing.

  She tiptoed, lifting her head to gaze into his gorgeous green eyes. His brows furrowed, and he parted his lips, the agony in his gaze almost palpable. She chewed on her lower lip, her pulse racing wildly. “Tell me,” she demanded.

  Whatever he wanted to tell her she needed to hear it. He pulled her closer, his arms falling about her, and he regarded her with an intensity that made her stomach drop to the floor. She touched his cheek, and he closed his eyes for a moment, basking in her caress. What did he find difficult to tell her? That he didn’t want his time with her to end, or that in a few days it officially came to an end? Out of all the l
essons he taught her, not wanting him anymore wasn’t one of them.

  He hummed, opened his eyes, and passion burned in his irises.

  He outlined her mouth with his finger, and she parted her lips, anxious for more. He slipped his index finger inside, and she sucked it, swirling her tongue around it, then grazed her teeth on the tip, without ever breaking the stare. A groan filled the room.

  She turned him on. She’d done it—she wasn’t a charity case anymore. She’d learned how to leave inhibitions behind and enjoy sex. Dirty, sweaty, skin-slapping sex.

  Desire pumped into her, and she fumbled with his shirt, yanking it off.

  Buttons flew in the air. Growling, he pulled her into his arms and slammed his lips on hers. She opened her mouth and caressed him with her tongue. He lifted her from the floor, and she wrapped her legs around him, the undeniable heat sweeping her off her feet.

  Only took him a couple of steps to tumble into bed, taking her with him. She disentangled from his arms, her breath coming out in small gasps. He propped himself on his elbows, ruffled hair and all, with his glorious chest exposed.

  He motioned to sit up, but she slapped his chest, pushing him down. “What’s this?”

  “This, my dear professor, is graduation.”

  …

  Nico struggled to breathe—she stole the air from his lungs.

  Now, seeing her like this, confident and glowing, belted a surge of pride through him. He’d done it—actually, she’d done it. He’d only helped her bring out her organic, alluring appeal she hadn’t known she possessed.

  And now…now he’d screw her one last time.

  He’d sensed her hesitation when he’d overheard her talking to Simon a few minutes earlier. Nico couldn’t be selfish and bind her to him when she had her romantic future all planned out with that lucky bastard. Which meant…he got to have her one last time.

  She whipped off his pants and boxers, and soon a cold draft caressed his naked body. His internal temperature, though, only upped with each passing second. She darted out the tip of her tongue and licked her upper lip. Slowly, without taking her eyes off him.

  “I wonder if this is one of those cases where the student outperforms the teacher,” he said, amused and aroused.

  She removed her shirt, skirt, and shimmied out of her underwear, then dropped them to the floor. A sexy turquoise bra barely cupped her breasts. He lifted his hand to cop a feel, but she slapped his hand away and touched her tits herself.

  “Cock tease,” he said. “You’ll pay for it later.”

  “You’re paying for it now,” she said in a seductive, raspy voice.

  Challenge flashed in her irresistible hazel eyes, and she reached for the back of her bra. Her pretty breasts—not too big, not too small, just perfect for his hands and mouth— spilled into view, and she made invisible patterns around her areolae, her pink peaks tightening.

  A current of arousal traveled from top to bottom, and he shifted on the bed, restless. She straddled him, pinning him in place with the warmth seeping from between her legs. On his sides, he felt her sticky thighs hinting at how wet she was for him. His cock grew, his balls drawing tighter and fuller.

  The tip of his dick poked her, but she managed to inch away just enough so he wouldn’t be able to tease her if he wanted.

  And did he want to tease her…

  She leaned down to kiss his neck, her hair spilling on him. The tips of her waves caressed him as she traced pecks down his chest, her tongue lapping at his taut nipple. The contact of her hair on his chest shot an electric current charged with heat through himt. He thrust his hand into her mane, touching it, massaging her scalp, and earning a loud, raspy moan.

  She continued her torturing, her open-mouthed kisses heading south. He groaned and pulled her hair a bit, warning her with a little tug that she poked a wild animal. She raised her eyes to him for a moment and shot him a look full of mischief, adding another notch to his insane attraction.

  She grinned, possibly aware of how much she affected him, and continued to trace her tongue all over him, until she made it to his aching, seriously hard cock.

  She put it in her mouth, and a tremor rolled down his spine. He watched as she tried to fit all of him in her mouth, her lips closing around his flesh. His blood rushed to the tip, and he touched the back of her throat.

  Yes, she had definitely learned a lot—how to drive him insane with desire.

  She cupped his balls, and his groin stirred. “Emma,” he hissed out, unable to string many words together. She sucked him into and out of her mouth with no rush, her tongue teasing his underside veins, which expanded under her command. He tugged at her hair, silently pleading her to slow down. This last time, he wanted to be inside her pussy, to fill her with his jism one more time. One last time.

  Moaning, she clutched his balls a bit tighter, and he growled. Perhaps sensing his hungry need for her, she gave his dick one more wet kiss, then pushed him back against the mattress and straddled him.

  He shifted on the bed to make it easier for her, and she took him inside her. His rod pulsed in her soaking wet, tight pussy. She began moving, swaying her sexy hips from side to side, then rocking back and forth, riding his cock. He lifted his hands, unable to resist, and played with her tits, squeezing them together.

  She threw her head back, and he seized the opportunity to sit upright without slipping out of her sex. Surprised, she parted her lips, and he pulled her hair, bringing her mouth to his in a scorching kiss. He gave her all of him, his tongue stroking hers into submission. She rocked on his dick and linked her arms around his neck.

  Her inner muscles contracted, and a raw lust surged in his core. She grazed her teeth on his lips, and he moved to withdraw from her just enough to catch his breath, but she clutched him tighter and nipped his lip again, sucking on his bottom one until she released it with a pop.

  This madness had to stop.

  He outmaneuvered her and flipped her onto the mattress, covering her with his body. She gasped, her hazel eyes darkening to a matte brown. If he couldn’t control his desire for her, he had to at least control her. One last time.

  She wrapped her legs around his ass, and he retreated his cock midway. She squirmed, protesting, scratching his shoulder blades with her fingernails. When he plunged into her kitty, they moaned in unison.

  For the next few minutes, he continued the dirty dance, kissing her languidly, and claiming her assertively. She arched toward him, whispering his name, nipping his jaw.

  He propped himself to contemplate her and intensified his rhythm when she began trembling under him. In slow motion, he regarded the delicate contours of her face, the pink staining her cheeks. He wanted to record her moans, to bottle her scent, to die with the memory of her tattooed on his brain.

  Because he loved her.

  As he withdrew then thrust deep into her one last time, the truth unraveled. Sweat slicked his forehead, and his heart thumped with each breath.

  I love her…so I have to let her go.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Emma slung one leg over the other and scooted out of bed. She didn’t want to—a tingle still hummed between her legs. The smell of sex and male cologne filled the air. She glanced at him—he lay on the bed, hands behind his head and eyes on the ceiling.

  She scavenger-hunted for her clothes on the floor, picking them up and getting dressed. She didn’t need to bolt out of bed, but she wanted to talk to him, and with clothes on it was easier. Even though it’d physically hurt to screw him again should he want to, just the thought of it puckered her nipples and added a layer of moisture between her folds.

  Maybe later, after they talked it out. First, she needed to know if he was still the same guy from before—if those glimpses he’d shown her were human glitches, or if he’d be willing to change their dynamics. To be more open-minded about a possible future together.

  She rubbed her hands in a soundless clap then threaded her fingers. Her stomach knotted, apprehension ca
using a nauseating sensation to float up her throat. Still, she needed to talk to him. She swallowed the lump of fear and blurted, “Nico, I want to ask you something.”

  He uncrossed his hands from behind his head and propped himself to a sitting position on the bed. She glanced at his naked body, and he pulled up the sheet to his waist, maybe thinking the same thing she did—no clothes equaled no real conversation.

  She licked her lips. “As you know, Zaine’s wedding is coming up, and I know you’ll be his best man. I was wondering, if—”

  The muscle in his jaw flicked. “You should go with Simon.”

  She clapped her hand to her heart, confused. Acid leaked into her stomach, unsettling her. “Did you hear the conversation?”

  He rubbed his forehead and peered at her with dark eyes. The hesitation she expected to see in them—the one she’d seen before—was nowhere to be found. “I know he wants to take you. Wasn’t that what you wanted? To go back to him?”

  “Yes, but…” She pressed her palm into her chest to will those crazy beats away. Sweat slicked her palms, and a veneer of fear cloaked her. This isn’t going well. “Things change. I mean, do you want me to go with him? After all we’ve done together, you don’t want to be my date?”

  “So we can have a hard time explaining to your brother, then when he finally gets it, guess what? We’ll be over. And we’ll both hear I-told-you-sos. Is that what you want?”

  Moisture evaporated from her throat. What kind of bullshit excuse was that? Who cared about what Zaine thought? “Is that how you see it happening? I mean, there isn’t any other possibility for us?”

  He thrust his fingers into his hair. “I’m sorry, Emma.”

  Tears fell from her eyes, and she hated herself for crying. She wished she were like one of his more sophisticated, sex-club-going partners. But now…she was plain Emma, the girl with silly old-fashioned dreams like marriage and kids. The girl who’d never be enough for someone like him.

  “I’m sorry too.” Her voice wavered.

  He scrambled out of bed, still naked, and walked up to her. His facial features softened a bit, and she recognized some of the agony she’d witnessed when Desmorais had told him the truth.