‘He deals in taking not so beautiful things and making them beautiful. In nostalgia.’
She smiled at him and his stomach dropped. The five other guys were much more accomplished than him. There was a doctor, a neurosurgeon, an attorney, a fireman and a dentist.
I redo furniture. Sometimes houses. Sometimes art … but …
He was going to let her down. There was no way he’d garner the kind of money these guys did. He felt like a horse’s ass and it was all Nick could do to finish what he was supposed to do on stage and not flee the scene as it were.
He wanted to make her happy and he’d probably be lucky to earn enough for a dinner, let alone enough to make a difference to research.
He fisted his hands to keep him calm. He’d have to think it over. There had to be a way to make things right.
Chapter Seven
THE THOUGHT OF AUCTIONING him off to another woman, even for a night, was enough to make her see red.
‘You need to get over that, you dingus.’ Casey fit her key into the door.
It was just past three and she hadn’t eaten all day. Annie and everyone else had eaten at the hotel and then Annie had headed off to her shift at the book store. Casey, once again, found herself grateful that Brendan’s life insurance had left her in a position to do charity work for now. She wanted to work but wasn’t sure at what just yet. This gave her time to think and be productive.
One of her dreams had always been to open an antique store or just a second hand store. When she pondered it, the Jiminy Cricket in her head said, and then Nick can refurbish things for you and you can live happily ever af–
‘Shut it, Jiminy.’
She pulled a container of parmesan noodles from the fridge and put the leftovers in the toaster oven. She washed her hands and started making a small salad as her stomach growled angrily.
She’d have to auction him off. It was for charity, it wasn’t like she was pimping him out for stud service. Casey snorted and rolled her eyes. ‘You have gone mental,’ she said.
She sat in front of the afternoon talk shows and ate her noodles and salad. Then she kicked off her heels and pulled off her thigh highs. Her body still thumped and quivered whenever she let herself remember him moving behind her, flipping her skirt up, fucking her as she pushed her hands to those rough cinderblocks.
Casey took a long hot shower and then dressed in leggings and thick wool socks. The fall weather was truly turning toward cold because the house read 67 degrees. Her favourite navy blue pullover swathed her in warm thick cotton from neck to mid thigh and she decided that a salted caramel hot chocolate was just what the chill weather ordered.
With whipped cream.
She’d taken her first salty-sweet sip when the doorbell rang. Casey hurried to answer. ‘You’re here!’ she said, licking her lips.
‘Annie gave me your address,’ he muttered. His gaze was locked on her lips.
Nick leaned in and licked her upper lip with the tip of his tongue and her heart quickened. ‘Sorry,’ he whispered, running his thumb along her lower lip. ‘You had something …’He licked his lips and looked intent. ‘Whipped cream? It was on your lip.’
‘It is whipped cream. I just made a hot chocolate. Want one?’
‘Can I come in for it?’
She gasped and took a step back, letting a bit of the rain and a few dead leaves sweep in with him. ‘Sorry – sorry. You turn my brain to mush, you know.’ She said it to her wool socks. It was too big a statement to say it right to him.
‘You pretty much do the same thing to me. And I’d love a hot chocolate.’
‘Walk this way.’ She led him to the kitchen and when Casey turned he was behind her mimicking her walk by swaying his hips like a woman. Lean hips shimmying and his upper body rotating and his stance a bit girlish.
Casey covered her mouth as hysterical laughter bubbled out of her. ‘Oh God.’
‘You said, walk this way.’ He grinned and she felt the urge to smash herself up against him and kiss him until their clothes fell off.
Casey turned from him, rattled by her urgent need to touch and kiss him. She set the water on to boil and measured out the dark cocoa, the sea salt, a few squirts of caramel. She added a touch of cream to give it that really decadent richness and waited for the water.
‘Are you OK with the auction? You often look like you want to run away.’ She wanted him to feel comfortable and here was as good a chance as any to let him off the hook.
‘Well,’ he sighed, seating himself on one of the high stools. ‘I came here to ask you a favour.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Will you bid on me if no one does?’
‘What do you mean if no one does?’ she asked, laughing. Casey could hear the water starting to jump and simmer in the pot.
‘I’m not … I’m not like the other guys. I’m a restorer, basically. I work with furniture and fabric and upholstery. Some people would call it junk.’
‘Well those people are morons.’ She mixed her concoction put his drink in front of him. Steam curled and danced around his face.
‘I just want to make sure we save face.’
‘You will be bid on, Nick,’ she assured him. Casey allowed herself to stroke her fingernail along his knuckles, one at a time. The colour came up in his cheeks and he shifted just a bit in his seat. ‘I promise,’ she said.
He ran his fingers over the lip of the counter and Casey tried not to be distracted by it. ‘Mmm,’ he said, licking his lips. ‘Good stuff.’
‘The trick is the salt. Are you sure you’re OK? I thought I was the only one freaking out.’ Her fingers tickled a bit higher, stroking his wrist and then up under the cuff of his blue button down.
Nick reached into his back pocket and tossed an envelope on the counter. ‘There’s the money.’
‘Money? What money?’ For a split second she thought he was offering her money for sex. And she almost hit him. Hard. But then he shook his head looking as worried as ever.
‘The money for me. The money to bid on me so I’m not the dud.’
‘Dud, my ass,’ she said, pushing the money back. ‘You’re the hottest guy there.’
‘That’s because you slept with me. You have to think that.’
‘Nonsense.’ She went around to hug him and when she got close, that magnetic pull he had on her became overwhelming.
‘I’m the filler. I’m the bread crumbs in the crab cake,’ he laughed, running a strong, nicked-up hand through his thick short hair.
‘I’m the pity fuck,’ she blurted.
Nick’s eyes flashed, icy and assessing. ‘What? What the hell are you talking about?’
She swallowed hard; here came all those pesky fucking emotions. ‘Annie asked you to … and you … and we …’ She shook her head. That had been effective. ‘I’m the pity fuck,’ she repeated as if that explained it all.
‘You’re no such thing.’ He grabbed her wrist, squeezing it hard enough to grind the fine bones and make her wince. But there was also a sparkle-flare of arousal under the lancet of pain.
‘Are you sure?’ she sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted. ‘Because it’s OK if I am.’
‘No, it’s not.’ He looked pissed. ‘And the fact that you would think that makes me feel like I haven’t really explained to you what I think of you.’
‘You have but–’
‘I think you’re amazing.’ He ran his finger over the purplish blue veins on the inside of her wrist. Then he tugged her forward so he could kiss her. ‘I think you’re sexy and sweet and funny and smart and you obviously have a big heart.’
‘And a dead husband, hence the pity fuck.’
‘Casey!’ he said, shaking her.
‘I’m just saying … Hey!’ She let him yank her gently into his lap and there, waiting for her after their shared kiss, was the hard hump of his erection beneath her ass. ‘You’re the one who’s worried you won’t get bid on.’
‘So maybe we both need to work on
our self esteem. What do you want to do, Casey?’
‘Fuck you,’ she said, the words tearing free of her lips before she could think about it.
Nick groaned. He took her face in his hands, his fingers sweeping along her cheekbones. When he kissed her, he nipped her lower lip so she startled and sighed. ‘I meant with your life,’ he said.
‘I like the charity stuff,’ she muttered, unbuckling his belt. ‘But I really like antiques, used treasures, I’d like a store, I think.’
He kissed her again, sliding his slick tongue inside her mouth, making her breath shake in her lungs. ‘Are you messing with me?’
‘No, why?’ She curled her fingers around him, rubbing her thumb over the slit at the tip of him. A small jewel of pre-come lubricated her skin over his and he groaned a second time.
‘Because it sounds so much like what I …’ He shook his head, letting his eyes drift shut. Lost in her touch and what they were doing.
‘Now bear with me,’ she whispered against his jaw before kissing him once more. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.’
Casey dropped to her knees between his splayed thighs. His jeans were open, his cock out. She nuzzled her cheek to the warmth of his flesh. Her tongue darted out to gather the sweet and salty dot of fluid on his skin. She sucked the head of his cock into her mouth and licked him, keeping her eyes on his face. The look he got, the way his jaw clenched and his eyes kept drifting shut only for him to wrench them open. Amazing.
‘I don’t think you’ve forgotten anything.’ Nick put his hand on the back of her head, gently pushing her just enough that she was forced to take him deeper into her throat.
She sucked him hard, tasting the soap and sweat and cotton on his skin. His other hand joined the fray and she got a jolt of electricity low in her gut when she felt him thrusting up under her. He’d lost his firm grasp on manners and mores and was fucking her mouth.
Casey stroked his balls with her fingertips curled against that paper-thin skin. Nick shifted just enough to give her better access and she took that moment to draw the firm tip of her tongue along the blushing blue veins of his cock. She licked hard against the small gaping slit at the top of his erection and then swallowed him down.
She was mildly confused when he pushed her back, pulling free of her mouth, shoving her back only to yank down her leggings and wrestle her socks. He turned, shoved, lifted and she found herself airborne, hair flying, gasping.
Casey’s ass hit the counter and he said, ‘I’ll clean your counter, I swear. I swear. Clean, clean,’ he repeated like mantra and then he dropped to his knees between her legs, spread her wide with rough hands and latched his mouth to her slick cunt.
‘Oh,’ she said like it was all a big surprise.
It only took him a few good licks, a flat brandishing of his heated tongue to her clit and the plump labia that framed it. On the final drag of his tongue over her, she came, fingers gripping the cool edge of the counter to steady herself.
He stood fast – his movement urgent – and positioned himself at her opening. Keeping his eyes on her face, he slid into her with a lazy kind of reserve. She could tell by the dancing bunching muscles at his jaw that it was taking all his strength to keep his body calm and slow.
‘Keeping yourself on a tight leash?’ Casey whispered. She pressed her palms to his strong chest, feeling the gallop of his heartbeat under her hand. ‘I wish this was gone. I wish I could feel your skin.’
He ripped the button down over his head without using the buttons. The white tee he wore underneath, that simply said MARYLAND WINE FESTIVAL, went sailing across the room next. And she was pushing the pads of her fingers and the palms of her hands to his quite alive, quite hot flesh.
He buried into her to his root, the soft slap of his balls against her ass, made her smile and she wrapped her legs around his waist to part herself even more for him. To open to him – get him deeper.
Nick claimed her mouth with his, his tongue brutal and insistent and sweet.
‘Is this what you wanted,’ he rasped, driving into her.
‘Yes.’
‘And you’ll bid on me?’
‘You’ll get bid on,’ she said, her voice turning wispy as she got closer to orgasm.
‘You’ll bid on me,’ he repeated. He thrust deep and very unexpectedly pinched her ass cheek so her cunt clenched tight around him with adrenaline and surprise.
She nodded stupidly, fighting the rising orgasm. She didn’t want to come yet. ‘Yes, I’ll bid on you. I will. I promise. If you …’
She broke off there, because he’d leaned back just enough to watch his cock sliding in and out of her. He watched attentively as her body ate his up an inch at a time and then let him go when he withdrew. His thumb pressed the thumping knot of her clit and he applied pressure and slow circles until she was panting, hooking her ankles behind his hips and letting her head fall back as she came. The overhead kitchen lights spurring sparkles and shimmers in her eyes.
A fine tremor had started in her entire body and he sprawled over her, sucked her nipple hard enough to make her heart skip. ‘Come for me again. God, I love to watch you come. You look so … untamed when you come.
He gripped her hips tighter, losing his control – his rhythm growing as untamed as he claimed she looked. Casey pushed herself forward in short little burst to take him and when he growled, ‘Fuck,’ she knew he’d lost his control.
And that was what tipped her over the edge again. Him losing his steely strong tether to control.
She came with her arms wrapped around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist, body clamping and spasming around his as he emptied into her.
Casey pushed her lips to his neck, feeling his pulse thundering under her lips. She wondered if she bid enough if she could keep him. Just for a little while.
Chapter Eight
HE WANTED TO STAY but could tell that she got scared after. They’d stayed locked there in an embrace, her perched on the counter, him secured in her arms. It had felt perfect and right and wonderful. But in the end she had promised to bid on him if no one did. And that was what made him feel some relief in his gut.
‘Now what are you going to do about the fact that you seem to be falling for her?’ he asked himself, moving slowly around his apartment. Touching the sofa where they had been, imagining he could feel her there. Her energy.
Casey was beautiful and brilliant and kind. The mere fact that she was certain he’d earn as many bids as all the other bachelors spoke of her good heart. It had never occurred to her that he would be “less than” in some of the bidders’ eyes because he basically lived a somewhat struggling but often artistic living. Sometimes he was flush; sometimes he ate noodles every night for dinner.
‘She wants an antique store. Second hand,’ he muttered.
He grabbed a beer from the fridge and tried to remind himself that she’d just lost her husband. Not much more than a year ago. And he had clearly been someone she loved very much. She probably wasn’t ready for him, no matter how nice she thought he was.
Someone knocked and he had a ridiculous romantic moment imagining it was her. But when he put an eye to the peephole he saw Annie’s smiling face.
‘So … how was … did you? Jesus, have you actually asked her out yet or are you two doing this magnets drawn to each other bullshit.’
‘Why hi, Annie. Come on in,’ he said, laughing as she barrelled past him.
She opened his fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer, twisting off the cap.
‘Would you like a beer?’ he asked, trying to keep a straight face.
‘Don’t hurt her,’ Annie said, plopping down on his sofa.
‘I wouldn’t.’
‘She’s all fragile and dented. She doesn’t think she is, but she is. But I see the way you look at her.’ She pointed the neck of her beer bottle at him and winked. ‘And, honey, I’ve seen her look at you. She’s got it bad. You make her feel …’ Annie rolled her hands around in the a
ir searching for a word. Finally she shrugged. ‘Feel stuff, I guess. I haven’t seen that much colour in her cheeks since Brendan. Now don’t fuck it up.’
‘Christ, Annie. No pressure there!’ Nick drained his beer, remembering the taste of Casey. It was still on his skin. He could smell Casey and the scent of their coupling and it was making him insane.
She waved her bottle at him. ‘Cheers. You’ll do fine. Tomorrow’s the big auction and then you can get down to the business of courting her. And not just banging her in the coatroom.’ She winked at him.
Nick shook his head. ‘Just for the record, that was her idea.’
‘I’m sure it was, cowboy.’ Annie left quickly and he felt more confused than when she’d come.
Nick took a shower and did the only thing a man could do when the smell of a woman he was currently falling for was all over him. He stood in the hot spray, stroking his cock, replaying it all in his mind. The fragrant pink knot of her clitoris under his tongue. The petal pink of her outer lips that bled to rose red in the centre. The blushing wet invitation of her cunt. Christ, the way it felt to slide into her, inch by impatient inch, until he was buried in her, balls deep. And the way she kissed him.
Fuck, the way she kissed him.
He came with a long slow exhalation. Hoping he didn’t fuck this up. Hoping he could make her proud and hoping, more than anything, that she’d give him a real chance when all was said and done.
She was going to throw up. She was. It was almost a done deal. Casey nervously twirled a lock of her hair around her finger. She shuffled and reshuffled her papers over and over again with her notes. She was having a heart attack. She was not going to make it. The other groups of bachelors were going first and she was the grand finale.
‘You’re not going to throw up and you’re not having a heart attack.’ Annie waltzed up and handed her a coffee.
The Highest Bidder (Xcite Romance) Page 5