by Box Set
Chapter 9
Nik had been hoping that Aria snored.
He doubted it would turn him off, because she was just—God, she was incredibly fucking hot. But if she snored, it might’ve been easier to get irritated with her. To think something like, Damn, I can’t wait for this week to end so I can sleep without her snoring in my ear. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t allow him even that small solace. Aria didn’t snore, or drool, or kick him in her sleep. Nothing.
He watched her in the faint light that crept past their closed curtains. She slept on her stomach, spread out like a starfish, and he slept on his back, also spread out like a starfish. So, he’d woken to find his right limbs tangled with hers, her skin almost feverish. They’d somehow thrown off the sheets, so the first thing Nik saw when he woke up that morning was Aria’s tight, lacy underwear, barely big enough to cover her arse. No tattoos there. He’d noticed that the day before, but the knowledge felt different now.
Maybe because the second thing he’d seen when he woke up was her face. Her cheeks, soft and smushed and lined with pillow creases; her long eyelashes and the shadows of left-over makeup under her eyes; her slightly parted lips, moving as she breathed deeply. When he looked at her, he’d been seized by the urge to kiss those lips. Thank God he’d come to his senses a moment later. He was trying to make her like him, not assault her while she slept.
Nik sighed and stared up at the ceiling, pressing a hand against his aching cock. He was so hard; his morning piss was about to be a fucking nightmare—but he wasn’t focusing on that right now. He was more concerned with how weird last night had been. He hadn’t considered how different it would feel, going out with a girlfriend instead of just his mates. Different, but good. Their relationship might be fake, but the way he’d felt—as if she were his sun, and he’d spent the whole night orbiting her? That had been real.
Real, and painfully natural. Checking on her, making sure she had a drink, watching her laugh and dance with Georgia; none of that had been a chore. And since Nik knew he was a self-absorbed bastard, that fact struck him as… interesting. Honestly, he adored her. And he was convinced, by this point, that she at least wanted him. Not in the plastic, automatic way most people wanted him, for his looks or his money, but in a way that felt personal. So fucking personal. He’d slept with countless people, but he only felt desired when she looked at him.
Those looks didn’t do shit to soothe the demanding hunger inside him, though. In fact, they made things worse. Because she still wasn’t his, and the idea that maybe she could be was like dangling meat in front of a wolf. Stifling a groan, Nik eased out of bed and headed for the shower. He stood under its powerful spray seconds later, tipping his head back as if the water could wash away his confusion.
It didn’t. He was still hopelessly attached, ridiculously horny, and as reckless as ever. He was also carrying out a plan so far-fetched and audacious, he could barely believe his own gall. He could only deal with one of those issues, though, so he set the rest aside and focused on his throbbing cock.
His hands slick with soap, Nik bowed his head beneath the shower’s spray and slid a fist over his aching length. Oh, fuck. Yes. He stroked himself hard. Harder. Imagined that the tight, wet glide of his fist was Aria’s mouth, because if he let himself think about her pussy, he’d really be fucked.
He’d meant to stay quiet, but as he envisioned Aria on her knees before him, he moaned. His strokes sped up, his grip tightening, desire licking at him like hot flames. And then he imaged her pulling back, running the swollen head of his cock over her lips, slicking them with his pre-come the way she’d slicked them with gloss last night…
He grunted as the wave of pleasure broke too early, his come spilling hot into his hand. “Shit.” He shouldn’t have done that. Even as his body tingled with barely-sated arousal, he knew: he shouldn’t have fucking done that. Because now all the vague fantasies dancing through his mind had a concrete shape, and he’d never be free of them. Not unless he got his hands on her—and he still didn’t know if he ever would.
The spark between them could just reflect his own desire. He could be imagining everything he thought he’d seen in her eyes. He was starving for her, and every sarcastic comment she threw, every arched brow and unspoken challenge, made it a thousand times worse. And he loved it.
Water ran into Nik’s eyes as he stared at the come painting his palm. His cock was already hardening again. He was acting like a teenager. But when he was with her, he wanted more than ever to be a man.
By that afternoon, the sun was beating down as if it wanted to kill them all.
They should probably go inside, but a few of them had started messing around with a football, and now they’d never stop. There was nothing better than a kick-about, in Nik’s book. Especially when it was like this: barefoot on the grass, the ball making a satisfying thwack against his skin with each leisurely pass, his two best mates laughing and chatting with him.
And his woman in sight, wearing one of those tiny bikinis, that ever-present sketchbook in her hands.
Not your woman, said the voice of reason.
She should be, said the voice of every reckless thing Nik had ever done.
Really, that voice hadn’t steered him wrong yet. He should probably be alarmed by how attached he was after a chance meeting, a handful of kisses, several obnoxious emails and a couple days of faking it. But, technically, Nik had known Aria for weeks now. If they were his parents, they’d already be married.
The ball hit him squarely in the thigh, bringing Nik back to the game with a jolt.
“Stop thinking about your girlfriend.” Varo grinned.
Nik snorted as he passed back. “You’re always thinking about yours.”
“Quietly, though. When you’ve got Aria on your mind, your thoughts might as well be a foghorn.”
Kieran chuckled. “He’s not wrong. You really like this girl.”
“I do. I really fucking do.” It wasn’t a lie, but an admission. It occurred to him that despite the secrecy around he and Aria, he could still ask his friends for advice about this. “Guys, how do you figure out... you know, feelings?”
The other men paused, the ball forgotten between them. They shared a look, their faces unreadable. And then, as if on cue, they both burst into laughter.
“What?” Nik demanded. “This is serious! I am ignorant! Help me!”
“Dios mio,” Varo wheezed, slapping his thigh—which, frankly, Nik thought was a bit much. “Oh, Nik. I really don’t know what to do with you.”
“I don’t know how you managed to catch her in the first place,” Kieran chuckled. “You’re so shit at this stuff.”
“I know I’m shit at this stuff,” Nik said. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I think I might—” he broke off, astonished at the words that had almost come out of his mouth. I think I might love her.
Actually, that would make a lot of sense. But he’d think about it later.
Correcting himself smoothly, Nik said, “I’m not sure if she likes me as much as I like her.”
Varo shrugged. “Probably not.”
“Thanks for the support.”
“I’m just saying! She’s too cool for you.” Varo dodged, laughing, as Nik kicked the ball toward his head. “Alright, calm down. She likes you. Of course, she likes you. Anyone can see that.”
The words mollified Nik a little. Anyone could see it? So, it wasn’t just a figment of his desperate imagination.
“I do have some advice, though,” Kieran piped up. “I know you don’t think it’s a big deal, so you probably haven’t told her. But trust me, people care about this kind of thing when they’re in relationships.”
“What?” The ball rolled back to Nik, and he tapped it neatly at Varo.
“You should probably mention that you fucked Laurie. And G. And Varo. And Tom—”
“Okay, yeah,” Nik interrupted. “I get it.”
Aria already knew about Tom. She knew about everyone he’d slept
with in this house—except his friends, because she hadn’t needed to know. They weren’t on his I regret it, steer clear list. They were on his That was fun list, or in Varo and G’s case, his Let’s do this again some time list. Would Aria care? Honestly, he wasn’t sure.
“You’re right.” Nik nodded. “I’ll tell her.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t already.” Varo grinned. “How the hell did you get a girlfriend, again?”
I paid.
“Speaking of...” Kieran’s dark gaze shifted to the right, his brows raising as he trailed off.
Nik looked over to find fucking Baxter looming over Aria, Laurie and G like a vulture. The slimy piece of shit. What part of That’s my only, solo, monogamous fucking girlfriend did that prick not understand?
“Woah, man,” Varo said quietly. “Relax.”
Which was when Nik realised he was clenching his fists hard enough to make his knuckles ache. He took a deep breath and released the tight grip, ignoring his friends’ stares. Nik rarely lost his temper—only on the pitch, and even then, it took a lot of fucking provocation. His mates would be wondering what the hell was wrong with him. They didn’t know how much he really hated Baxter, because Nik didn’t have the energy to talk shit.
“I don’t want him bothering her,” he said flatly.
“Okaaaay...” Varo replied. “Is he bothering her? I know Baxter’s a flirt, but I’ve never heard about him crossing the line.”
“I don’t know. I just don’t fucking like it.” His eyes settled on the ball at his feet, and an idea winked into his brain like a lightbulb.
“Nik,” Varo said slowly. “Whatever you’re about to do…”
Nik ignored him, moving back a few spaces to give himself a run-up.
“At least let Varo take it,” Kieran sighed. “He’s the striker.”
“You think I can’t hit him?” Nik asked.
Varo rolled his eyes at Kieran. “Now you’ve done it.”
“Bet me.”
“Nik,” Kieran scoffed, “we’re not placing bets on this juvenile—”
“5000 Euro,” Varo interrupted. “Ten if you get his head.”
“Done. Kieran?”
There was a long pause, followed by a deep sigh. “I’m in.”
Nik grinned. Then he hoofed it.
The ball arced through the air so beautifully, he almost came. Christ, that was a perfect feeling. But not as perfect as the laughter that ripped from him when the ball smacked Baxter squarely in the back the head.
Baxter staggered, caught his balance, clutched his head, and spun. “What the fuck?” he bellowed.
“Sorry, man,” Nik shouted. “Thought you’d catch it.” Beside him, Varo dissolved into peals of laughter.
And so, did Aria, metres away, her hand slapped over her mouth and her eyes bright.
The boys messed around with that football for hours—long enough that Aria should’ve been bored or irritated by the afternoon sun. But when her mind wandered from the contents of her sketchbook it found plenty of entertainment in watching Nik. He was shirtless and barefoot, running around the grass with a focus that was somehow turning her on. When beads of sweat slid down her spine, she imagined the same moisture caressing Nik’s skin. When they rolled between her breasts, she imagined his tongue licking them off.
Fuck. She felt like she’d been permanently wet for the past two days. Aria was surprised she hadn’t started walking funny, her clit felt so swollen and sensitive. If she didn’t do something about this, she’d end up losing her head. She could barely think straight.
Which was concerning, really. After all, she was at work. Concentration seemed vital in her position. Which made it her professional duty to handle the throbbing pulse of desire that had taken over her body. Right?
Right.
Aria stood, picking up her sketchbook. “Sorry guys, but I’m going to head upstairs. I think I’ve had too much sun.”
“Oh, no, babe.” Georgia leapt up and pressed a hand to Aria’s brow, even though she practically had to jump to reach. “Are you alright? Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, no! I’m fine. I’m just going to rest.”
“Shall I tell Nik?”
“God, no. Honestly, I’m fine. I’ll just have a little sleep before we head out.”
“Alright then, love,” Georgia allowed, with one last worried look.
“Au revoir,” Laurie murmured airily, calm and catlike as ever.
Aria hurried off into the house.
She climbed the first flight of stairs steadily. On the second flight, her steps became a slight jog, and by the third and final one, she was practically running. She rushed into the bedroom and shut the door behind her, shivering and feverish all at once. Electric anticipation rolled through her as she hauled her suitcase out of the wardrobe and pulled out the sleek black box where she’d stored anything sex-related ever since her awkward teenage years.
The sox’s contents had changed a little since then. There were condoms, lube, the usual—but now she had an impressive collection of toys, too. And since she’d been purposefully, painfully celibate for months now—since November—those were the stars of her show. She put the sox down at the foot of the bed and studied its treasures, the sweet-sharp ache between her thighs worsening which each second. Finally, she pulled out a purple Rampant Rabbit, tracing a finger over the long curve of the dildo, then the ‘ears’ attached to its shaft, designed to vibrate against her clit.
She was already wet, but she rifled through the box for some lube anyway; there was no such thing as too wet, after all. She caught sight of a little bottle lurking under her butt plugs.
Then the bedroom door opened.
Chapter 10
Shit, shit, shit.
The vibrator landed back in its box with an ominous thunk as shock loosened Aria’s fingers.
Nik stood in the doorway, looking pretty fucking surprised himself. “Georgia said you…” He frowned, stepping into the room, shutting the door behind him. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing!” she said brightly, looking around for the sox’s lid. Where the fuck had she put that thing?
“Aria.” Nik’s tone was calm and steady as he came closer. “What is that?”
Well, there was really nothing for it. Slapping a smile on her face, Aria turned around and sat on the box of toys. She just… sat. There was a hideous creak, and she felt the poor thing give under her enormous arse, but she kept her smile firmly in place. “What’s what?”
Nik’s lips twitched with the effort of holding back his laughter. “The thing you just sat on.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said primly.
He studied her awkward perch on the bed, clearly skeptical. “Get up, then.”
“No, thank you,” she clipped out. “I’m not feeling very well.”
All at once, concern softened his features. Nik sank to his knees in front of her, then winced.
“Are you supposed to do that?” she asked, remembering the recurring injury that he claimed was just fine. It probably wasn’t quite so fine after he’d spent all day playing football.
“Doesn’t matter. Are you okay? Georgia said you felt weird.” He smoothed a hand over her hair like she was a fucking kitten or something. “Do you want a drink? Are you hungry?”
Well, now she felt bad. He actually seemed worried. “Um, no. No, I just need a rest.”
Nik nodded slowly. “Why don’t you lie down?”
“I will.” Her voice came out a bit too high and squeaky.
He arched a brow, suspicion creeping into his gaze again. “Okay.”
There was a pause. Apparently, he was waiting for her to move. Aria, meanwhile, was trying to figure out how to make a box of dildos disappear. Why had she even brought the fucking thing?
Oh, yes; because she was incredibly horny at the best of times, and he was gorgeous enough to make the issue almost unbearable.
“Aria,” he said,
“what is that?”
“What is what?” she snapped. He couldn’t see the sox she was currently crushing to death, could he?
No; Nik’s gaze wasn’t even close to her arse. He was staring at the suitcase she’d dragged out of the wardrobe—or rather, at the lid of the sox, sitting beside it on the cream carpet.
“Oh,” she said quickly, “that. It’s… nothing.”
His smile turned predatory, a cocky glint lighting his eyes. She could tell just by the look on his face that he was taking this interaction as a challenge.
Which did not bode well for her.
“Nothing?” he repeated. “So, it’s definitely not the lid of the box you just sat on?”
“I’m not sitting on anything,” she said stiffly.
“You’re not?”
“No! Good Lord. Sitting… on a box… why would I possibly do such a thing?”
“Sweetheart. Move, or I will move you.”
“Fuck off,” she scowled. “You can’t—” Aria broke off as she remembered that, yes, he could. He’d already proven he was strong enough to throw her around. Fuck. “You put a hand on me and I’ll bite you.”
Grinning, he leaned in until their noses almost touched. “Don’t tease, moro mou.”
“Nik…”
“If you want to bite me, you can. You only ever had to ask.” She became uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was only wearing a pair of swimming trunks, his chest bare. And she was only wearing a bikini, for that matter. A bikini whose top he was now staring at openly, because her nipples were hard enough to cut diamonds. They only got harder when he released a low, heavy breath that almost sounded like a moan, dragging his teeth over his lower lip.
“I should warn you,” he murmured, his voice rough. “I bite back.”
“Menstrual cups!” she blurted out.
Nik looked up with a blink. “What?”
Yes, Aria. What?
“Um… In the box.” Her words blurred together awkwardly. Her heart felt like it might burst out of her chest and flop around on the floor like a fish. How the fuck could one man be so disarmingly, stressfully sexy? “My menstrual cups,” she repeated, “are in the box.”