The angle opened the way for him to slide his hand under her white shell, which he discovered included a built-in bra. The stretchy material made it easy to pull down the elastic neckline and touch her skin. Hot and soft.
She shimmied against his palm, inviting him to explore. His fingers raked along her rib cage to the underside of her breasts.
She went still and opened her eyes. “This really is going to happen, isn’t it?” she asked. He saw her nervousness, but she didn’t flinch when his hand covered her breast and he gently squeezed.
He looked down at the fullness and felt his knees tremble. He couldn’t wait to see her naked. To taste every square inch of her body, but he felt honor-bound to say, “It’s not too late to call it off if you don’t want…”
She took his hand and pressed it to her crotch. Even through her black hip-huggers, he could feel the heat and moistness. “If I backed out now, there are parts of me that would never forgive me. Including where your hand is.”
A pivoting motion of her hips made him think of a belly dancer. She stepped back and walked to the beaded curtain. The sparkling doorway led to a room unlike any he’d ever seen before. The vivid colors of the be-jeweled pillows on the couch were replicated everywhere—walls, ceiling and curtains. Sheer pink scarves were draped over the two hanging light fixtures on either side of the wall-to-wall bed, which was covered in scarlet satin.
“Wow.”
The long strands of beads gave a tinkling cackle after Grace followed him in. “A little over the top, I know,” she said, shrugging one bare shoulder. “Liz says the decor panders to the stereotype people have of Gypsies. But I like it. I was going for the I Dream of Jeannie look.”
Nick looked around as he unbuttoned his shirt. He found the surroundings slightly titillating. Campy and fun. Could he sleep there every night? That would depend on the company.
Grace leaned across the bed to close the curtains. The hue went from sunshine to mellow amber. She made a global gesture. “Welcome to my magic bottle.”
He laid his shirt on the dresser—the only freestanding piece of furniture in the room, taking care not to topple any of the ornate frames she’d assembled. “Can you make all my wishes come true?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. Her gaze stayed on his chest and she licked her lips in an unconscious way that made him instantly hard. “Nobody can do that. But…” She unzipped her slacks and wiggled free of the stretchy material. “I might be able to satisfy one.”
She held up her index finger, then put it in her mouth and slowly pulled it out. Nick swallowed hard. He clawed at his buckle in a frantic effort to get out of his pants, but Grace stepped closer and did it for him. With a flourish that would have done Zorro proud, she whipped the belt free.
Nick undid his jeans and stepped out of them. “This isn’t going to be a hearts-and-flowers kind of thing, Grace.”
Her hand flattened against his hard-on and she leaned into him. Her breasts brushed against his chest. “We can do it standing up for all I care. Just satisfy me. Now.”
He slipped her panties over her hips. Pink lace, he acknowledged vaguely. He was more interested in the smoothness of her skin and the sculpted shape of her backside.
The stretchy fabric of her top molded to her figure, skimming her hips. He caught the edge and tugged upward. Grace lifted her arms. The elastic inched over her breasts, then suddenly they were free and visible.
Nick’s jaw dropped and saliva pooled in his mouth. “Grace, you’re beautiful.”
She blushed like a virgin, but she didn’t shrink from his scrutiny. “Thank you. Now, what’s good for the gander, or some such thing.”
He took off his shorts and faced her. He was glad for her speechless scrutiny. It gave him time to ask “Condoms?”
“Built-in hidey-hole by the lamp.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the headboard.
As she reached out to touch him, she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. Nick’s body reacted as any red-blooded male’s would. The point of no return was history.
Grace sensed the instant he was committed to making love to her. Some people might have considered the end result a sure bet, but Grace didn’t take anything for granted where Nikolai was concerned. “Can we skip the foreplay and get right to the good stuff?” she asked.
He looked shocked. Grace didn’t blame him. She wasn’t sure where she’d left her rational mind, but this new, wholly sensual side of her had taken over. “It’s been a while for me and I’m pretty much ready when you are, which by the looks of it was ten minutes ago.”
She touched the head of his penis and ran her nails down the rock-solid shaft.
Nikolai let out a sound, something between a growl and a groan. “You,” he said, gently pushing until the backs of her knees touched the mattress.
She sat down, legs spread in pure wantonness. Nikolai took in her pose, his left eyebrow lowering rakishly. “You could provoke a saint. My blood feels like it’s going to shoot out the top of my head.”
“I know a better way to blow off a little steam.”
She leaned forward and put her lips on him. Her hands cupped her breasts as she rocked forward and back, drawing him in and out of her mouth. His stomach muscles tensed in a well-defined six-pack and she could see his toes curled against the carpet. He let out a low, painful-sounding moan. “Woman, that’s torture. You’re torture. You’re not supposed to do that.”
“I’m not?” she asked, letting her hand take over so she could look up at him.
“You’re…a…princess.”
The words sounded ripped from his gut.
“You mean like a royal pain in the ass?” she teased, grabbing his left cheek and squeezing.
Nikolai’s head was back and the muscles in his neck stood out. “Yeah. That, too.”
She leaned forward until her breasts were almost touching him, then she rubbed the tip of his penis between them. Nick let out a choking sound and pushed himself against her chest. Her flesh surrounded him and he hunched over as if fighting for control.
“Oh, Grace, you…” His voice broke as he threaded his fingers into her hair and made a fist. The tug on her scalp increased the molten heat between her legs.
He pulled her to her feet then switched places with her, so she was straddling his knees. He buried his face in her chest, filling his hands with her and breathing deeply.
Grace had never made love to a man who was half-Romani. The thought made her shiver.
Nick looked up. “Are you afraid all of a sudden?”
“N…no. I guess not, but—”
He nuzzled one breast, blowing softly on the wet trail left by his tongue. The rest of her thought flew out the large gaping hole in her mind. When he took one nipple into his mouth and suckled, she arched her back, grinding against his knee.
She squirmed with a powerful need until she found just the right placement for his knee. She ground her hips in a circle, reveling in the quick, hot flicker of ecstasy.
He kept her from going too far, too fast, by lifting her hips and bringing them toward his waiting erection. Grace went up on her toes, then she lowered herself with agonizing slowness that had Nikolai letting out a jerky breath.
“Oh, baby,” he said. “You’re sweet, tight and wet.”
Grace took a few seconds to thank heaven for this amazing connection; then she moved her hips in an ageless dance. She pushed harder and harder.
“Don’t worry, Grace,” Nikolai whispered in her ear. “We’re getting there. Trust me.”
She opened her eyes and saw his wicked, sexy grin. “But this damn satin bedspread doesn’t give a guy any traction,” he added.
A second later, she was on her back with Nikolai poised above her. Arms stiff, he looked down at her and said, “Do you mind? The way my butt kept sliding, we were going to wind up on the floor.”
She laughed. When was the last time I laughed in bed? She couldn’t remember.
He didn’t wait for her answe
r. He lowered himself, filling her. She wrapped her legs around him and they rocked together until they found a rhythm that worked for both of them. Grace felt her climax building.
“Oh, oh, oh,” she cried, becoming lost in the sensation.
He was making noises, too. Sounds that told her he was close to coming. She clung to his neck and lifted herself up, up. They met at the same place. He poured into her with a raw cry that seemed to come from the depth of his soul. Grace vaguely realized that they’d shared an emotional release neither could have predicted.
“Sweet,” she said softly, tears slipping past her lashes. “Oh, Nick, that was nice.”
“Nice?” he said gruffly. “Doughnuts are nice. That was freaking amazing.”
She agreed.
He crushed her to him and rolled so they were side-by-side in a nest of rumpled bedding. With a tenderness she didn’t expect, Nikolai swept her hair from her eyes and ran the back of his hand along her cheek. “You are breathtaking in every sense of the word.”
She smiled. Oddly embarrassed by the flattery, but not by what they’d just done. “You’re not too shabby yourself, Mr. Sarna. I mean Lightner.”
He closed his eyes and pushed his head into the pillow. “Not yet, Grace. Please? Let’s keep the real world at bay for a little longer.”
She let out a sigh and curled up beside him. “Smart idea. Sex always turns my brain to mush. I swear that’s the only reason Shawn and I lasted as long as we did.”
“Good, huh?”
“Nothing like this, of course,” she said, truthfully, although she kept her tone light and teasing.
“You’re wicked.”
“I know.”
He ran his hand up and down her back as if drawing a map. Grace closed her eyes and threaded her fingers through the small triangle of wispy chest hairs between his pecs. Most of the men in her family were wooly bears compared to him. As she idly wondered whether hirsute genes skipped a generation, a sudden thought made her let out a gasp. They’d forgotten the condom.
“Damn.”
“It hasn’t been a minute.”
“Sorry, but…”
He opened one eye.
“Look down,” she said, pointing in the direction of his groin. “Do you see a used raincoat on that big boy?”
He didn’t look. Instead, he muttered a low, rather appropriate expletive.
“You’re not on the pill, I take it?”
“No, but even if I was, what about AIDS and STDs?” she asked, swallowing. “Pregnancy isn’t the only thing to worry about.”
“I give blood once every couple of months. It’s a c…common thing when you’ve been in jail.” He blushed. “I’m pretty sure I’m clean.”
She found his embarrassment endearing. “Me, too. Clean, I mean. Not the blood-donor thing. I get queasy just thinking about needles, but I was tested after I broke up with Shawn. I haven’t been with anybody since.”
Neither spoke for a minute then Nikolai cleared his throat. “Going back to the subject of pregnancy, I’ve heard about a pill you can take after the fact.”
Grace pushed back to gain some space. The flatness of his tone disturbed her. She stared at the ceiling to avoid seeing that other Nikolai, the one who was too much a part of the real world. “I could probably ask Liz,” she said, feeling the warmth they’d shared start to slip away. Faking a smile, she added, “At least, we’ve established that we’re not related. No potential pollution of the gene pool.”
Nikolai’s lips didn’t flicker. He looked dead serious. “I’d expect to be told if anything came of this.”
An edict, not a request.
Suddenly feeling naked and exposed, she grabbed the loose end of the bedspread and hugged it to her chest. “Um…okay.”
Neither spoke for a minute, then Nikolai let out a long, deep breath. “I didn’t mean that to sound like an order,” he said, sitting up to face her. “I’m sorry.”
The apology pushed her over the edge. The emotional roller coaster she’d been riding crashed. Tears backed up into her sinuses. She wadded up the corner of the blanket and pressed it to her face. “I think you should go.”
She managed to hold herself together while he dressed and kissed her goodbye, but once he closed the door, she gave in to the grief, pain and disappointment that had been dogging her all day. The lovemaking—wonderful as it had been—hadn’t changed her reality. She knew, deep inside, that her life would never be the same again. Nikolai or no Nikolai.
NICK LEFT Grace’s snug, sensual little haven feeling more conflicted than ever. Her scent lingered on his body and made him crave her. Despite the low note that he’d left on, Nick had never felt more complete after making love.
He wanted to be with her. Which made him mad.
He didn’t form strong attachments to people this fast. He wasn’t a love-at-first-sex kind of guy. Not that he used women then abandoned them. In the past, he’d made sure his affairs were easygoing, mutually beneficial. He went out of his way to pick women he wouldn’t fall in love with. And who wouldn’t fall in love with him.
Never in a million years would he have chosen someone like Grace. Someone who put family first. Who led with her heart. Who couldn’t fathom a father willingly giving up his child. At least she got that right. If Grace was pregnant, Nick would be on the first plane back. Leaving your kid for someone else to raise was the kind of thing Jurek Sarna did, not Nick Lightner.
Suddenly, Nick needed to talk to his dad. His real dad, Pete. He jumped the fence and let himself into Claude’s house to use the phone.
When no one answered at home and Pete failed to pick up his cell phone, Nick tried the office. “Is Pete Lightner around by any chance? This is Nick Lightner calling.”
“Hey, Nick, it’s me, Roxy,” the voice on the other end of the line said. “How’s Vegas?”
After exchanging small talk for a few minutes, Roxy told him, “Pete isn’t here. Hasn’t been back since you left. I think your mom’s keeping him busy. I heard their house sold in like six hours.”
Nick thanked her and hung up. Six hours? That meant they’d be leaving sooner, rather than later. And he’d be alone. Just him and his dog.
Before today, he probably could have handled that. He wasn’t looking forward to his parents leaving, but he was an adult. He’d be okay. But, now, after making love to Grace, Detroit felt a world away and the word home had taken on new meaning.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
AFTER HE SHOWERED and changed clothes, Nick tried Yetta’s house, but there was no answer, although her car was parked under the carport beside Grace’s. She could be out with one of her daughters or she might be at The Dancing Hippo, he decided.
He made the two-block walk with growing trepidation. Kids were an interesting phenomenon that hadn’t played a huge role in his life until his sister gave birth to two beautiful baby girls. He’d held them as infants and watched them grow into intriguing little people, but he’d been a somewhat distant uncle and certainly hadn’t given a lot of thought to what it would be like to have a child of his own.
Until now.
A kid. With Grace. If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture a toddler with dark curls and a flashing smile.
The toe of his boot caught on a knob of concrete and he stumbled. A reminder to stop daydreaming—for everyone’s sake.
He studied Alex’s house as he approached. The building was situated on the corner lot and sat at an angle so most of its backyard was sheltered from view. From all the horror stories he’d heard about sexual predators, Nick could appreciate the wisdom of that.
He rang the bell.
Alex, holding a small child in her arms, opened the interior door. The heavy metal screen door remained closed. “Hi, Nikolai, what’s up?”
“Looking for your mother.”
“She isn’t here. Maya was having a bad day. There’s been a lot of that going around lately.” Her wide smile reminded him of Grace, although the two didn’t look very ali
ke. “Mom and Liz took her to the park.” She opened the door. “Do you need to talk to her? We can try her cell.”
He walked inside and was immediately engulfed by a mob of kids. All shapes, sizes and colors. Nick found he had to fight for balance because he couldn’t move forward without stepping on tiny toes.
“Rita,” Alex called. “Quick. Save him.”
A young Hispanic-looking woman wearing an apron adorned with dancing pink and purple hippos corralled the youngsters by promising them a treat. “Who wants to make ants on a log?”
The collective squeal hurt his ears. Alex set down the cherub she’d been carrying, then picked up the phone. Nick only heard her side of the conversation, but he gathered Yetta was returning within the hour.
Alex put her hand over the receiver. “She wants to know if you could stop by the house later this evening?”
Nick nodded. He had a couple of errands to run.
She relayed the message then hung up. As he turned to leave, she put her hand on his forearm and said, “Could we talk?”
A minute later, after Alex had removed her apron and redirected two quarreling youngsters, she joined him on the front stoop. A steady stream of traffic played stop-and-go at the intersection.
According to Grace, Alex was thirty-five. Today, she appeared older. She used her index finger to rub a spot between her brows. “Headache?” he asked.
“A reaction to my new medication, I think. But I’ll live.” She looked at him. “I heard you were at the hospital the other night. I guess that means you know all about my ongoing minidrama.”
“It doesn’t sound very small to me. Your sister was quite upset.”
She rolled her shoulders. “Yes. Grace is the baby of the family. We tended to shelter her from the everyday disappointments most people experience when they’re growing up. That’s why she takes it so personally when a person—or fate—messes with her plans.”
“I’ve noticed,” he said drily.
“Anyway,” she said, scratching at a dab of purple paint on the knee of her jeans, “I just wanted to say thanks for helping out. She said you were a calming force in the waiting room. Grace is a pacer. We love her, of course, but she has a tendency to drive the rest of us crazy.”
Betting on Grace Page 19