Solving for Nic (Self Made Men...Southern Style Book 2)

by Lexxi Callahan

  “It’s that important?”

  She sighed. Maybe everything might be okay after all. “Yeah, it’s a millennium problem. There’s a million dollar prize if someone proves it, but if it’s proven it will bring down the Internet, destroy e-commerce. No one’s password would be safe.”

  “And you still want to prove it?”

  “It’s the most important unanswered question. Some people are trying to disprove it by finding a nontrivial zero that’s not on the half line, but no one has and I don’t think you win the million dollars if you disprove it.”

  “You want a million dollars that bad?”

  “No.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t take the money. The guy who proved Poincaré conjecture didn’t take the prize money.”

  “You want to solve a million dollar math problem but not for the million dollars.”

  “I’m not making any sense, am I?”

  He shook his head but the corner of his mouth was ticking up and Lizzie decided it was good to be back with the center of her universe. The world was a cold place without him. “Not much,” he agreed, reaching past her.

  She opened her mouth to explain that prime numbers were random but still had structure when icy water crashed down on her. She shrieked and danced up and down as he held her under the water while her lovely buzz went right down the drain and she sobered up involuntarily.

  “I hate you.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “I think I would know if I hated you or not.”

  He reached past her and turned the warm water up. It didn’t help. Her clothes were plastered to her and she was freezing. He worked the wet T-shirt over her head and threw it to the floor of the shower. The loud thwap of soaked cotton hitting tile distracted her from the fingers working the button loose on her shorts. “You don’t hate me.”

  She turned her head and his mouth landed on her cheek. He trailed a line of scorching kisses down her jaw, then her throat. Her bra joined her T-shirt then his fingers moved to the edge of the white cotton panties. They were sheer against her wet skin.

  He slanted his mouth over hers before she could protest. His fingers dipped into her underwear, finding hot slick heat and making her moan. Her shoulders fell back against the tile wall and she tried to catch her breath. He pushed the soaked cotton down her legs, holding her steady as she lifted one foot then the other. He kissed her again, pushing his knee between her trembling legs, the hairs on his chest and legs teasing her skin until her skin rippled in reaction.

  She didn’t remember him taking off his clothes. She had no problem with it.

  He licked the outer shell of her ear. Lizzie shivered, as wet on the inside as she was on the outside, but she wasn’t freezing anymore. He kissed his way down to capture one aching breast. He sucked the stinging peak hard into his mouth, torturing it until she was delirious. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she cried out with each hard pull of his mouth.

  He kissed his way to the other one, his hands at her waist thumbs below her belly, holding her still, rubbing the sensitive skin and making it next to impossible to stand. Her hands bit into his shoulders but she didn’t try to stop him. She needed his mouth and hands on her.

  Then his mouth moved lower as he dropped to his knees.

  “No,” she whispered, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “It’s my turn.”

  He smiled against her abdomen. “You get a turn when you sober up.”

  “I’m sober,” she insisted, then groaned as his tongue dipped into her belly button. “I’m completely…oh, wait…” Then she couldn’t speak anymore. Not words anyway. Just his name.

  His hands moved lower, his thumbs sliding down the sensitive skin below her belly to the tops of her thighs. She made a valiant effort to keep her legs together, but his mouth moved lower, licking her until she forgot all about her turn.

  Her stomach contracted and she melted, knowing what was coming, what he would reduce her to, but her body blatantly ignored all the alarms going off in her brain. His thumb pressed against the inside of one of her thighs, opening her up for him. She jerked, trying to escape and get closer at the same time. He pushed her harder against the wall and took the rest of her weight with his shoulders while she tried not to scream.

  Then he was there, his tongue licking across her before parting her trembling flesh with his fingers. He explored her with his tongue, lashing deep inside, finding sensitive spots and teasing them into a frenzy. She was dying.

  His tongue trailed up to trace excruciatingly slow circles around the tight bud of her clit before sucking it into his mouth. The lazy rhythm had her breathing his name out or maybe screaming it but her hips urged him to speed up the torture. He chuckled and continued the slow, sanity stealing spirals.

  Whimpering gave way to sharp hisses and tiny cries. He spun her up into a pleasure so sharp and so sweet she was sure it would destroy her but she would die if he stopped. The coil wound tighter inside her, sparking and burning what was left of her. Fingers invaded her swollen flesh while his tongue continued to torment her. The slight edge of pain cut the coils loose. Her eyes flew wide open and she opened her mouth to scream, then froze as his fingers crooked inside her and one endless heartbeat later, Lizzie broke free. Orgasm after orgasm assaulted her, turning her into someone mindless, weak and utterly incapable of stopping him from doing it again and again until she was no longer in her body. She was out there somewhere, radiant and free and flying into the sun.

  Sometime in the next century, he straightened coming to his full height in front of her. His breathing was as erratic as hers. His hand cupped her face, his thumb pressing down on her trembling lower lip.

  “My turn,” she whispered, or begged. She wasn’t sure.

  His smile was slow and her eyes met his as his thumb pressed deeper into her mouth.

  “I’m not drunk.” She swirled her tongue around his thumb and slid her hands from his shoulders, down his chest until they wrapped around the burning length of his cock. “At least not on alcohol and besides, you promised.”

  “I did?” He gasped, his head falling back as she stroked him. His thumb left her mouth as his fingers curled into a fist and hit the tile next to her head.

  “Should I get on my knees and beg?” she asked nicely, in the sweetest voice she could muster.

  His body turned to steel right in front of her and for a moment he couldn’t speak. When he did, it was more of a growl. “You ever done this, Lizzie?”

  Her smile was slow as she shook her head. A wild and primitive instinct took hold of him. She licked her lips. “You’ll have to show me how.”

  “Get on your knees.” His words were little more than a growl, but Lizzie caught the unsteadiness underneath them and heat roared through her. Then he was pressing her down to her knees and she caught hold of his hair roughened thighs so she wouldn’t tip over. “Open your mouth.”

  Her fingers pressed into hard muscles of his legs as he rubbed the tip of the granite hard erection across her lips. The swollen head was softer than she expected and her first taste of him went straight to her head.

  “Open your mouth and breathe through your nose.” He teased her with another swipe, as his other hand stroked the top of her head. “I’ll do the rest.”

  He nudged at her mouth, stroked her face and watched her with an intensity that speared right through her. Her smile turned sly as she kissed the tip, loving the way he shuddered. She kissed him again then traced the entire hard length of him with her tongue. His hand left her cheek and tightened in her hair. She wrapped her uninjured hand around the hard base of his cock and paid him back for her slow torture by taking her time. She groaned as he stretched her, gliding over her tongue, filling her mouth. Her eyes rolled back as she swirled her tongue around him.

  Warmth flooded her at his sharp intake of breath. He breathed out her name, then curt instructions she tried to follow, then unintelligible sounds that may have been Italian or jungle cat. Lizzie wasn’t sure and she real
ly didn’t care. Her curious nature got the best of her and she decided to find out on her own what he liked.

  Because he totally lied. He didn’t do any of the work. Unless work was defined as intermittent growls and beating one fist against the tile wall over her head while Lizzie learned how to make him lose his mind. She understood every sound, every harsh cry, growl and hiss escaped him even though there wasn’t a single word in English.

  He let go of her head and braced his other hand against wall. She took him deep, his salty taste filling her senses as she tried to find a rhythm with her mouth and tongue. She felt it roll through him the second she got it right and the power burned through her was intoxicating. He was all hers. She’d reduced him to his most primitive savage self, stripped him of everything except his need for her.

  His hand caught the back of her head and he tried to stop her before it was too late. For a moment Lizzie couldn’t breathe as he touched her throat, cutting off her air until her eyes watered. After that he couldn’t escape her and his fist pounding against the tile was all the warning she got before she drowned in him because she couldn’t swallow fast enough.

  And she loved it. Every primitive second of it and she wanted to do it again.

  She let him go and he came crashing down next to her, his face dazed with shock. She licked her lips provocatively and almost laughed at the way his eyes fixated on her mouth. His chest heaved, but his eyes never left her. He couldn’t speak, she realized, and knowing she’d done that to him did something wild to her. Her whole body rippled with it.

  She grabbed the mesh sponge and bath gel and worked the pear scented lather into his chest and arms and shoulders. He caught her wrist when she moved lower.

  “Wait.” He groaned. “I need another minute.”

  He let her wash his hair instead and it was impossible to say who enjoyed it more. He practically purred as she massaged the shampoo into his scalp with her good hand. Then she was in his arms, slick skin against slick skin. Arms and legs tangled together until they formed a knot she never wanted to undo. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and stared straight ahead. Maybe they could stay here.

  Maybe the rest of the world would go away.

  She sighed and smiled when he hardened against her. He didn’t make a move to go any farther. Instead, his fingers trailed lazily down her back until he whispered in her ear, “Beautiful girl, are you going to let me do everything I want to do to you?”

  Heat sheared through her again and the throbbing ache between her legs roared back to life. She nodded unable to lift her head. She tried to protest when he stood, taking her with him but he kissed her until she slumped against the wall shaking and useless and ready for whatever he wanted to do.

  “Good, because I have this fantasy.”

  Wildfire streaked through her as he turned her toward the wall. She imagined all kinds of dirty things they could do in a shower. Before she could turn to see what he was doing, his hands were working shampoo through the long strands.

  He was washing her hair? A thick wave of pleasure unlocked inside her.

  “You have a thing for my hair, don’t you?”

  “Yes, and if you ever cut it, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

  He kissed her while the soap rinsed away. It was tender and searching and a whole host of other things she wasn’t prepared to admit yet.

  When he reached past her to turn off the water, she was clinging to him. Or they were clinging to each other. She couldn’t let go of him. As long as they were touching, the world stayed away. Lizzie would have given anything to stay in that moment with him and escape the rest of the world.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nic toweled her dry, then dried himself with the same towel. There was something so intimate about him using the same towel. She shivered a little, tears pricking her eyes. She turned away and dove for her toothbrush before he noticed the emotions overwhelming her again.

  She ran the brush under water and watched him in the mirror as he stepped back into his jeans. Such a shame. She paused brushing her teeth when he shoved his arms through the sleeves of his T-shirt and pulled it down to tuck it into his jeans. It was a crime to cover his body in clothes.

  His eyes met hers in the mirror and she turned bright poppy red. “You just brought me to my knees and you’re blushing?”

  She almost went to her knees again, as his words set her insides on fire. The sound of his voice was enough now. He stepped up behind her. “Don’t look,” she said, her words slurred around the toothpaste. She rinsed off the tooth brush and tapped it on the sink. He was watching her. “Don’t look!”

  “You don’t want to spit toothpaste out in front of me?”

  She shook her head.

  His smile was incredulous. “Toothpaste? Seriously? When a minute ago you—”

  “Okay! Shut up.” She grabbed a handful of water and swished it around in her mouth. She spit it out as daintily as she could, but she shouldn’t have worried. He swung her around and crushed her mouth with his so fast and so hard, she lost her balance. He caught her and set her on the vanity, never breaking contact with her mouth.

  “Cinnamon,” he teased against her lips as he plundered them, making noises deep in his throat as if she was the best thing he’d ever tasted. He lifted his head, his eyes warm, scorching her as they searched her face. “You knew I didn’t send those roses, didn’t you?”

  She nodded, sliding off the vanity. “I don’t know how she knew to send them here, unless she’s having Rogan followed.” She grabbed her Princeton T-shirt she’d slept in last night and started to pull it over her head.

  “I’m sure they are.” He caught hold of her shirt while he spoke and pulled it back off her.

  “What are you doing?” she sputtered, whirling around.

  “You don’t wear another man’s clothes.”

  Suddenly, Lizzie wasn’t cold anymore. “Have you lost your mind? It’s my shirt.”

  He’d already shrugged out of the cream cotton long-sleeved shirt he’d been wearing earlier over the V-neck T-shirt. He held it up for her so she could put her arms through it.

  She huffed in indignation, then shoved her arms through the soft cotton sleeve. She choked back the sigh of pleasure as the fabric moved over her skin. It was warm and it smelled like him. She’d never admit it but she should’ve stolen it herself.

  “Caveman,” she called him, pouting so she wouldn’t smile.

  The Caveman refused to let her do up the buttons. She stood still while he closed up the front of the shirt, then rolled up the sleeves.

  “Possessive much?”

  “Very much,” he warned her, his fingers sliding up the exposed skin of her neck, his thumb skimming up her throat until it pressed under her chin, tilting her head back. “You keep pouting, and I’ll show you how possessive I can be. If you don’t want to wear my shirt, fine.” His smile was one shade away from evil. “Give it back.”

  Arrogant jerk. He knew she wouldn’t part with it now. “It’s mine now,” she warned him. “You’re never getting it back.”

  He leaned to kiss her and stopped midway. His eyes widened. “Why do you have a Princeton T-shirt?”

  A chill flickered down Lizzie’s spine making her nervous. Unsure what to say, she answered with a question. “Because I’m in graduate school?”

  He straightened, his expression closed off as he backed away from her. “At Princeton?”

  She nodded, stepping into the cut off shorts she’d been wearing earlier. “It’s not a secret.”

  “Why Princeton?”

  “Do you know who John Nash is? They made a movie about him when I was a kid. Had the Gladiator guy in it.”

  “It sounds familiar.”

  “The movie made me curious so I read his biography. He went to Princeton.”

  “You wanted to go to Princeton because of some guy in a movie?”

  She smiled sadly. “He’s not just some guy. He’s one of the most brilliant mathema
ticians in the world. He won a Noble Prize.”

  “You’re studying math? At Princeton?” Shock rippled off him in a freezing cold wave.

  She’d gotten over the way people reacted when they found out what she did but with Nic, it felt like the world was coming to an end. “Or I discovered life on Mars. Which is easier to believe?”

  He ignored her sarcasm. “So zeroes, complex planes and some hypothesis destroying the Internet wasn’t the tequila talking?”

  “No.”

  “The mathlete T-shirt. Not ironic?”

  Her hands went to her waist. “I told you I wasn’t a cheerleader. You never asked any other questions.”

  His eyes were so hard, his gaze felt like cut glass scraping over her skin. “You knew I had no idea. Were you having a laugh at my expense or was it like your virginity and none of my business?”

  Lizzie took a deep breath and folded her arms across her chest. A blue pill would come in handy right about now because she wanted to be anywhere else.

  “Has anything been the truth from you, Lizzie?”

  Screw the blue pill. She wasn’t running anymore. “I tried to tell you I wasn’t that girl.”

  “You deliberately misled me. What else have you lied about?”

  She swallowed a painful lump in her throat. “I’ve never lied to you.”

  He pushed his hands through his hair then shook his head again. Then he found his shoes and started putting them on. “I’ve told you before, lies by omission are still lies.”

  Her lungs weren’t working. She needed fresh air. She needed to get away from him because she was either going to fall apart or murder him or both. She wasn’t sure which. She knew he was leaving so she was determined to beat him to it. She headed straight for the door then stopped.

  Lies by omission? Seriously? Who the hell did he think he was?

  She spun around and faced him. “I may not have told you all my dirty secrets, but you didn’t tell me yours either. At least my secret wasn’t that I was already in a long-term relationship.”

  It would have been an impressive exit if his hand hadn’t shot out and slammed the door as she opened it. His hand stayed flat against the door over her head.