She shook her head.
Her panties slid lower as he pushed them, the seductive scrape of the soft cotton over her skin. The maddening heat of his palms on her. The way he cupped her ass. ‘If you cry, you cry. I don’t care. I just care that you want me. I just care that you think I’m good enough to–’
‘Hush, hush!’ she demanded and shoved him. Caught off guard Nick pin-wheeled and fell backward onto his caramel coloured sofa.
Casey kicked off her jeans, still looped around one ankle. Her panties followed and she swept her hair – crazy and messy and wavy from the rain – back off her forehead.
‘I’m on the pill,’ she whispered. ‘And I’m safe and clean and–’
‘Ditto. Well not the pill.’
He grinned and her heart cramped a little. God, he was pretty. And nice. And sexy as hell. A dangerous combo for a broken girl like her.
‘I trust you.’ She didn’t know why she did. Or why she should. But something in her told her she could.
Casey didn’t question herself as she yanked his jeans down. He had on grey boxer briefs and his cock was hard and pressed to his belly and she stalled for a minute just looking at him.
‘Everything o–’
‘Hush,’ she said. She licked her lips, drinking him in. It was shocking to her what a visceral reaction she had to seeing him. Bare and somewhat vulnerable and so fucking hot. ‘Just hush,’ she repeated, hooking her fingers in the waistband and tugging so he had to raise his hips to help her.
He was smooth and hard in her hand. They both sighed in unison and then laughed simultaneously too.
‘We seem to be synched up,’ Nick said, groaning just loud enough to make her grow wet and soft between the legs. He thrust up gently – as if he couldn’t quite help it – and she squeezed his cock to prompt him to make that noise again.
Casey nodded, not trusting her voice. She was still afraid of crying – but mostly because she felt overwhelmed. Joy, fear, sadness, excitement – all of it swirled in her belly like a storm and she sighed, shimmying up over him, straddling him as he watched her with those stark blue eyes.
‘My God, you’re beautiful,’ he said.
‘Hush,’ she repeated. ‘Don’t make me cry.’
He cupped her breasts and just held her that way, letting the heat of his hands cover the slight chill of her skin. Casey’s nipples pebbled and the roughness of his palms made her shake a little.
‘It’s OK if you cry, though. I know–’
‘I know you know.’ She smiled. ‘But don’t actively try to make me.’
‘I would never …’
But his words died on his lips as she trailed the tip of him along her labia. Nudging her clit with the helmet of his cock, she tried to keep her heart rate below the heart attack zone. The smell of him – all man and cotton and cosy heat on a chilly night – flooded her senses and Casey ran him over the soaking split of her pussy.
‘That is making me … nuts.’ He finished with a groan that set her nerves clanging in an entirely good way.
When she sank down on him, she watched him bite his lip.
‘Tell me,’ Casey said, knowing he was holding something back.
‘You feel just so …’
‘Wet?’ She rocked down onto him, feeling that sweet invasive stretch of penetration.
‘Yes, but–’
‘Ready?’ she sighed, rolling her hips to feel the press and stroke of him everywhere. Everywhere she needed it. Everywhere she had needed it for so long now.
‘Tight,’ he growled and thrust up under her, hard. The quick movement and the sudden roughness set her off and Casey came with a low moan that almost sounded like sadness but was soaked in joy and surrender.
She had done it. She’d come and it was good and he was good and …
Her mind went blank when he pulled her down over his chest for a kiss. The fall of her hair shielding them both for a moment. His lips brushed hers and his tongue tangled with hers and then he nipped her, driving up from under her once more.
‘Casey?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Do it again,’ Nick said. Big hands clamped her hips, steadying her as he began to thrust into her from beneath. Now that he was doing it in earnest, she felt the head of his cock manipulating every single bundle of nerves that craved stimulation. Her G-spot seemed to bloom with heat and a slow flexing spasm began deep inside her.
Her fingers curled against the heat of him. She let herself be swept away, driving her body down to meet his thrusts. Welcoming his cock with the way she let her legs fall open just a tiny bit more.
‘I’m–’ She was going to tell him she was coming but he kissed her into silence, his tongue gently brutal against hers.
He held her as close as he could and filled her and her body rippled and then clamped down on him with the pleasure of it all. It stole her breath – the force of it – and how he held her. Like he feared she might float off and away from him forever if he didn’t.
His fingers whispered back and forth along her lower back as Nick thrust up once, twice, three times more and came with a low growl that made her shiver all over. The sound of a man losing his firm grasp on control. The sound of a man coming undone.
For her.
Oh God, it had been so long.
And then, even though somewhere in herself she expected it, they came. Dominating her senses, making her eyes water and her throat grow tight. Taking the air from her lungs and the sound from the room – all but the pounding of her heart.
The tears.
Casey tried to curl in on herself. She tried to roll into a protective ball and just ride them out. But Nick was having none of that. He held her firmly against himself, wrapped his arms around her, kissed her hair.
‘Go ahead and cry, Casey. It’s OK.’
‘It’s not–’
‘It is. I’m not going anywhere. Hey, I knew your story from day one – well, today is day one. So, from moment one. From the moment you gave me a hard-on with nothing but your big toe.’
She snorted at that – unladylike – but a genuine laugh nonetheless. ‘I don’t want you to think that–’
‘All I think is that you’re having a lot of emotions right now. And I’m lucky enough to be here to hold you.’
That brought more stupid tears and she was torn between feeling affection, gratitude and annoyance. How does a person ruin such an awesome bout of sex with a bunch of embarrassing tears? She shook her head but let him hold her. She was lulled by the pound of his heart and the heat of his body and the way Nick kept sweeping his thumb along her skin as she clung to him.
She almost fell asleep. Almost.
But her phone started to beep and rattle in the depths of her jeans and she realised what she’d done.
‘Oh, shit. That’ll be Annie.’
WHERE R U? I HOPE A SERIAL KILLER DOESN’T HAV U.
Casey shook her head and tried to text with trembling fingers.
‘Don’t go,’ Nick said from behind her. ‘Let me get us something to drink. Wine? Beer? Tea?’
She almost said tea but said softly, ‘Wine, please. I think I need it.’
‘Was I that bad?’ he asked, cocking an eyebrow and grinning at her. His cool water gaze made her feel naked even though he’d given her his button down shirt from the back of a nearby chair.
‘No, I was.’
Nick suddenly leaned forward over the back of the sofa, surprising her into a gasp. ‘You were far from bad, Casey. You were amazing and lovely and despite what you think ….’ He shook his head as if gathering his words. ‘Despite what you think, nothing you did was off-putting. I would be surprised if after all this time you didn’t have a reaction.’
‘You deal in nostalgia,’ she whispered. Her text to Annie was momentarily forgotten.
‘I do. And I know how powerful and important memories can be.’ He stroked her chin for a split second and when she realised her throat ached too much to answer him, she simply nodded.
/>
‘I’ll get our wine. Red or white? Sorry I’m not evolved enough to also offer blush.’
She snorted, genuinely amused and beyond grateful that he didn’t think her an overemotional wreck. ‘I hate blush. Red all the way.’
‘Ah, there’s my girl,’ he said with real affection.
She was grateful that he walked out before she started leaking again. Because the moment he cleared the kitchen doorway, a fresh sluice of tears were unleashed.
Chapter Five
IM W/NICK. SORRY. MAY NOT BE COMING.
Casey picked her cuticle and then forced herself to stop before she bled. She held her breath as she waited for the phone’s patented chime. When it came she read:
WELL IF UR WITH NICK, YOU’D BETTER COME ;)
That made her laugh. Casey wondered how much of this was Annie and how much of it was fate. Had her friend asked this gorgeous, obviously kind, man to take pity on her? Was she a pity fuck?
NO WORRIES ABOUT THAT. I DID. TWICE. BUT I FEEL AWFUL.
Her vision doubled and then trebled and she wiped her leaking eyes. Listening to Nick in the kitchen getting their drinks had the lazy domestic sounds she missed so much. The sound of another person in the house, moving around, tinkering, making small noises. Not being alone – how much had she craved the sound of another body on slow quiet Sunday mornings?
Her phone burbled again and she read:
DONT. NICK IS A GOOD GUY. NICE. SWEET. HOT AS HELL! IT’S TIME 4U TO DO THIS. NO GUILT!
She typed Kk, their signature sign off meaning OK–OK! and shut the phone. She would go home and process this. Casey needed to figure out if this was a favour to her friend or a pity fuck or … what.
He came in and she started, dropping the phone at her feet.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to–’
There was a knock at the door and they both turned. Her first thought was Annie but then he said, ‘Damn. That must be my Chinese. Only a half hour or so late. Hungry?’
‘No. Um … you get the door,’ she said, taking the glasses he passed off.
Casey set them on the table and started to frantically shove her legs in her panties and jeans. She needed to get dressed and get out of here. She couldn’t seem to breathe. Not at all.
She shut her eyes and sucked in a breath, forcing herself to hold it for a count of four before blowing it out. A trick the grief counsellor had taught her after Brendan died. It regulated your heart, gave you a boost of some chemical she couldn’t remember and basically calmed you down.
When he came back with a bag of food, smiling like he loved the fact that she was here, her heart nearly broke.
‘Hey, thanks but I … I have to go. I just remembered …’ She shook her heard. What? What had she just remembered? That she couldn’t handle this. That she’d left the gas on. That she was on the verge of crying again and was mortified by it. ‘… that I have to go,’ she finished weakly.
‘Casey–’ he started.
‘It’s fine! It’s good! Thanks so much for the um …’ she wiggled her finger at the sofa. What? The sex? The orgasms? The fucking.
She was really bad at this.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, hearing the emotion amping up in her voice and hating it. ‘I just really have to go.’
She grabbed her phone from the floor and her purse and rushed past him before he could touch her. If he touched her, she would crumble. Casey was sure of it.
‘Casey!’ he called out after her as she headed for the stairwell. No time for the elevator. ‘It’s OK!’
She didn’t stop. She hit the metal bar going full speed and started taking the steps as fast as she could.
Nick put the bag down, suddenly not hungry. He didn’t know what to do. Stop her or not stop her. This wasn’t just some fickle thing – this was a woman recovering from loss and he didn’t want to push her.
Annie had filled him in just enough to know that what Casey had had with her late husband had been a bit of a fairy tale love. And he didn’t want to disrespect her memories or feelings by rushing after her like they were in some romance movie.
He rummaged through the paperwork for the charity auction on the breakfast bar. Casey’s number was printed at the top along with: “Please call or text with any questions.”
He dialled, knowing in his gut she wasn’t going to answer, but having to do this anyway. It had been ages since he’d been moved by a woman. Not just the way she looked, but by the way she acted, talked, smelled, laughed.
He’d seen something in her shyly horrified and yet bold expression when she’d hurt her ankle and inadvertently aroused him.
That was a woman he wanted to be around. To get to know.
And the feel and smell and remembrance of being inside of her, feeling her come, was enough to make his fingers stiff and clumsy as he dialled.
When her message came on – he knew she wouldn’t answer – he momentarily froze. Forgetting everything he was going to say and then some.
Finally, fearing the message would click off leaving her only with silence, he said, ‘Hey … .listen. I’m sorry if I … did anything to make you feel bad. I loved being with you. I want to be with you more. Even just, you know, talking …’He chuckled softly, feeling like a pervert and a mental patient. He was sure he sounded like a horse’s ass. ‘But the other stuff was awesome …’
Nick blew out a sigh, fighting the urge to beat his head on the nearest wall. This was not playing out well. His mouth and brain seemed to be disconnected.
‘Look, I sound like a moron. My point is. I was thrilled to see you today, and I was more than thrilled at the turn it took when you came in. And God … Casey, you are amazing. But it doesn’t have to be about sex, you can just come talk to me. Or we can go hiking or get a drink or whatever you like to do. What I’m trying and failing to say is that I–’
‘To hear your message, press seven. To erase your message, press four. To save and send your message press two or hang up.’
He hung up. Hopefully he didn’t sound like a total dick.
She couldn’t answer it. She just knew it was Nick and she was too embarrassed to talk to him. She’d shown up after a very dirty dream about him, attacked him, made him get naked and then burst into tears and ran away.
Every man’s dream date, she was sure.
She’d blubbered and sniffled all the way home and now she found herself standing in her walk-in closet looking for something comforting to wear. She was chilled to the bone but found, embarrassingly, that she didn’t want to take a shower. She wanted him to stay on her. The smell of him the feel of him and the remainder of him left inside of her.
Casey blushed when she realised it but shrugged. Fuck it. She had acted like a fool, but as for right now, she wanted to keep the essence of Nick on her. She wanted the smell of him to comfort her. She was not ashamed of being with him; she was ashamed of her reaction.
There were her favourite fleece pants peeking off the top shelf and a sweatshirt that had once been her dad’s but she’d liberated it from him when she was 20. The thing was at least 15 years old. Standing on tiptoe, Casey yanked the pants and everything shifted, dumping a pile of clothes on top of her. A box fell off the shelf too, to land noisily at her feet.
‘Jesus,’ she sighed. Somewhere in her, though, she was grateful for the mess. It would give her time before having to listen to his message. But when Casey saw what was in the box, she changed her mind. A whole stack of mementos and photographs were stuffed inside and on the top of the pile was the last birthday card Brendan had given her. It had drifted open during the tumble and the line that rose up to smack her in the face read:
Casey, all I ever want for you in life is for you to always be happy …
She waited. And waited. But no tears came.
‘Of course not. Now that you’re home alone and no one can see you or hear you, you are perfectly calm and in control.’ She shook her head.
Putting all the stuff back in the
box and placing it on the shelf with trembling hands, she drew out the clean up process. When she turned off the closet light she said, ‘I miss you,’ and headed to her bed.
It was chilly in her room and she bundled herself up, sipping from a bottle of water she always kept on her nightstand. The mist had turned to rain and Casey listened to it tapping against the windows. She played Nick’s message back on speakerphone.
Her heart clamping tight, her stomach buzzing with nerves, her throat growing tight all over again. She shut her eyes and listened to his warm rich voice and when it ended, she was so touched and somewhat turned on by hearing him, she played it again.
She waited to cry, all over again. And didn’t.
‘No. Of course not,’ she said yawning. ‘You’ll see him tomorrow. That’s when you’ll cry. No use crying if you can’t make an ass of yourself, right?’
She snorted, softly and felt herself drifting. Good. She wanted to sleep. For a year now, sleep had been the only place she felt calm and in control. Being utterly unconscious had been her only source of true solace since losing Brendan.
When she woke her body was tangled in damp clothes. The sky was a gunmetal grey, spitting flecks of rain against her window.
Casey felt the thump and thrill in her pussy from her dream. She’d dreamt of his head between her legs. His fingers in her cunt. And then finally him, pinning her to the cool white wall of her bedroom, thrusting up and into her. Bringing her to that sound that only erupted from her when she was coming undone inside. When she surrendered to her pleasure.
‘Jesus.’ Casey ran a shaky hand through her hair. She couldn’t quite shake the dream. She couldn’t quite shake the images that skittered through her mind at top speed – her own personal porn movie.
The Highest Bidder (Xcite Romance) Page 3