For Nick, their relationship was all about sex, and it had been since the day he married her. In fact, even before that. When he’d insisted on making her his wife, his first priority had been to assure her she could always count on him to give her unsurpassed pleasure—even if they weren’t a love match, as he’d put it.
To his credit, he’d kept his word. Nothing seemed to thrill Nick more than making her squirm beneath him while she begged for release. It was as if his all-consuming power over her body was more gratifying to him than even his own orgasms.
She gritted her teeth as he leaned closer and his hot breath stirred the curls on her mound.
“How about it?” he coaxed softly. “No strings involved. We’ll simply be friends with fringe benefits. After I make you come a few times, I promise to let you go right to sleep.”
It would serve him right if she used him to relieve her frustration and then left him to see to his own needs. Except, she didn’t trust herself not to ask for a lot more.
Oh, jeez, her body was going to hate her for this. But there was no way she would enslave herself to his lovemaking again—even if he was a selfless, merciful master. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Your loss.”
She flinched at the shrill ringing on the night table next to her. As she picked up the phone, she couldn’t help noticing the name on the caller ID. Bethany Jenkins.
Sam swallowed hard, imagining the humiliation she would have suffered if she’d been on the verge of a screaming orgasm when his girlfriend called. Thank goodness she’d found the willpower to resist him. She handed him the portable receiver. “I believe it’s for you.”
He glanced at the phone’s display and frowned. “I’m sorry, Sammy. Bethany wouldn’t call at this hour unless it’s important.” He punched the talk button, listened for several moments, and finally asked the girl, “How many times has this happened?”
His face contorted with rage while he absorbed whatever Bethany was telling him. Sam could hear the excited rise and fall of the girl’s voice escaping the phone, but she couldn’t make out a single word. Eventually Nick said, “The best solution is to get out of L.A. How would you feel about moving to Pennsylvania? I can get you a sales position at Swann’s in Princeton.”
Sam shimmed back into her pajama bottoms and rolled off the mattress while he listened to Bethany.
“Don’t worry about the cost,” he said. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll reserve a flight for you first thing tomorrow morning.”
Silence again.
“No problem. Dani will be thrilled to see you. I’ll talk to you soon.” He reached over and set the phone back in its charger on the night table.
“Well,” Sam said, yanking down the sheet on the sofa bed. “I guess you’d better think about renting an apartment after all, hadn’t you?” She winced at the bitchy tone in her voice.
“Actually, I have a better idea if everyone is amenable.”
She stared at him, her mouth agape for a split second. “If you think you’re moving your bimbo in here, you’ve got another think com—”
“Relax.” Nick chuckled. “I’m not planning any kinky threesomes. But I do think I’ve found the perfect solution for Bethany’s living arrangements.”
Sam waited for him to explain.
Instead, he rolled onto his side and fluffed his pillow. “Goodnight.”
“Are you intending to share your brilliant plan with me?”
“Eventually. As soon as you quit referring to Bethany as my bimbo. I’ve told you several times now, she’s a friend.”
Right. Another friend with his so-called fringe benefits.
~*~
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to help you out?” Nick leaned against the doorjamb to Sam’s workroom late Saturday morning.
She glanced back at him from her sewing machine. “I believe I made myself perfectly clear on that subject last night. Again, no thank you.”
He pursed his lips, suppressing a satisfied smile. Her immediate assumption that he’d been referring to sex implied she was still as frustrated as a prom queen in a chastity belt. “I wasn’t suggesting that particular kind of help. I was offering a hand with your business. Not to scratch your itch.”
“Oh.” The rosy color in her cheeks deepened to match her cotton-candy pink sundress.
“However....if you find yourself reconsidering my other proposal, El Capitán is always ready, willing, and ab—”
“Yes, I know!” she snapped, whipping her chair around to face him head-on, her breasts heaving.
Whoa. She was teetering on the edge. One kiss and she’d be all over him like sprinkles on a double-dip ice cream cone. Except the fire in her eyes suggested he’d lose an arm if he did something as stupid as trying to touch her at that moment.
“You’ve demonstrated quite well, in the past, how adeptly you pull my strings and make me grovel, oh, Great Puppet Master. There’s no need to remind me I have zero resistance to you.”
Right. If anyone had been enslaved by the red-hot passion during their marriage, it had been him. Sam couldn’t even smile at him without every drop of blood in his brain racing south in a tsunami of testosterone. After a year away from her, he’d forgotten how she made him ache, and what it was like to spend half of each waking hour imagining how good it would feel to thrust his perpetually hard dick into her slick heat.
“You know, that kind of weakness goes two-ways, Sammy. I’m just as helpless to resist you.”
Every day in L.A., he’d worked with beautiful, sexy women. But not one of them had ever made him want her the way he wanted his ex-wife right now. “What I don’t understand is why you resent the chemistry between us.”
“You don’t, do you?”
“Unless....” He raised his eyebrows in hope. “Perhaps you’ve discovered other men can’t get you revved up the way—”
“Look,”—she jabbed a finger at him, cutting him off—“I don’t want to discuss this with you anymore. I’m sorry I misinterpreted your intentions.”
Obviously he’d struck a nerve.
“Cariño, my only intention is to make things easier for you. That’s why, after I made an airline reservation for Bethany, I took out the trash, emptied the dishwasher, and vacuumed the entire downst—”
“Oh, so that’s your plan now, is it? Make yourself so indispensable I’ll agree to sleep with you for old times’ sake?”
Okay, so she was on to him. Except he didn’t want her for just a few nights. And there was no way he could admit he wanted her back in his bed permanently without making her even madder.
“Damn it, Sam, quit looking for hidden agendas. I simply thought I’d check to see if you need any help with your orders before I go talk to Ryan’s sister.”
As Sam’s anger slowly dissipated, her forehead furrowed. “What do you want to discuss with her?”
“I’m worried about Ryan. While we were changing his brakes yesterday, he admitted he’s missed so much school because he’s up half the night taking care of his mom. That’s too much responsibility for a sixteen-year-old kid.”
“You should talk.” She sputtered. “Weren’t you the one who got a job at fourteen to help your mother pay the bills? How many exams did you fail because you had no time to study? You’ve always thought you had to take care of everyone. You’re already planning to hire your friends as a construction crew, and now you want to take on Ryan’s problems, too?”
“The kid needs help. And I thought of a way out for him.”
“But what about you? Do you think the extra stress from worrying about the whole world is good for you? We didn’t go to sleep until after two, and you were awake again at six, hollering and shaking like a leaf. What was that all about?”
“Just another nightmare. It’s no big deal.”
“Another? Great, so you wake up trembling like that all the time?”
Damn. When would he learn to keep his big trap shut? He should’ve walked—no, run—out of the room t
he moment he’d noticed the inferno raging in her gaze. “It’s nothing.”
“Obviously it’s something.” Sam stood and marched over to him. “Or you wouldn’t be having nightmares. Tell me. What happens in your dreams?”
“I don’t have nightmares, plural. It’s just one.”
“So it’s recurring? That seems kind of significant, wouldn’t you say?” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him, making it clear she was waiting to hear about his dream.
“If you don’t need any help....” He turned to leave.
“Quit trying to evade the issue.” She grabbed his arm and spun him back toward her. “Now spill it.”
“It’s nothing. There’s water pouring into the basement, and I can’t stop it.” He wasn’t about to admit that she and Dani were locked down there with him. When she opened her mouth to respond, he held up his hand. “Stop! You don’t need to say it. I know it doesn’t take a shrink to realize the dream means I feel helpless.”
“Well, duuh! You’re drowning, Nick, and now you want to take on more responsibility with Ryan. And solving whatever crisis your girlfriend is having.”
“That’s the point. I don’t have to do a damn thing. I thought of a way they can bail each other out. Ryan and his sister need help looking after their mom, right?”
“Which they can’t afford,” Sam reminded him.
“And Bethany needs a cheap place to live. If the Flynns are willing to exchange free room and board, I’m sure Bethany would help take care of Mrs. Flynn at night so Ryan could live a normal teenager’s life.”
“That’s a good idea, Nick. But are you sure you want to give up your roomie? Because I’m not letting you sweet-talk your way back into my bed.”
“Damn it, Sam! For the last time, Bethany and I are not and never have been lovers. I hired her to walk Chewie during the day, and I let her move in with me temporarily because her boyfriend was beating the crap out of her. He’s still stalking her, so that’s why I suggested she leave L.A. and move here. She’s taking the red-eye tonight, and I’m picking her up at the airport at six a.m. tomorrow.” When Sam stared up at him, evidently speechless, he asked, “Why can’t you believe me?”
“Oh, I believe you all right.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s exactly like you to try to fix everyone’s life. What I can’t believe is your arrogance in thinking everything is your responsibility. You’re not God.”
“I’m not trying to be.”
“If that’s the case, when are you going to let someone carry a few of your burdens? You’re so afraid of being compared to the deadbeat sperm donor who left your mother you think you have to keep the world turning all on your own.” She held up her hand. “Wait! Maybe if you spin around counterclockwise really fast, you’ll be able to slow down the earth’s orbit.”
“Ha-ha. I didn’t come up here for a damn lecture.” He pointed at her sewing machine and the velour spread over her cutting table. “Look at you. You’re working two jobs while taking care of the house and Dani, all so you won’t have to accept financial help from me. Don’t you think the least I can do while I’m on vacation is pitch in so you don’t burn yourself out?”
She gnawed on her lip for several moments before she finally said, “I’m sorry. I really don’t want to fight with you.” She glanced at the shelf full of completed stock. “There is something you could do for me.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“I have deliveries that need to be made at the various hospital gift shops.” She opened the top filing cabinet drawer. “I have invoices for you to give—” She froze.
Crap. He should’ve taken the time to leave the drawer as neat as he’d found it.
“You were snooping through my files, weren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it—”
She glared at him.
“Okay.” He raised his hands in surrender. “To you it’s snooping. To me it’s helping. I was only trying to get an idea of your production costs so I could find a less expensive way to manufacture—”
“Nobody asked for your help. How can you not see how controlling you are?”
“What happened to you really don’t want to fight with me?”
“I’m not arguing. I’m simply stating a fact. This is my business. I don’t need you butting in and trying to run everything the way you always do.”
“Shoot me for trying to make things easier for you. I hate to see you struggle when I can—”
“—do it so much better than I can? I guess you think I’m so incompetent I didn’t bother finding the cheapest price for my materials?”
“I don’t consider you incompetent. I’m damn proud of what you’ve accomplished.” Although he doubted she’d figured in her labor as part of her production cost or worked up a comparison to the price of outsourcing. “But I do believe you’re foolish not to take advantage of my business expertise. For example, have you looked into applying for a design patent and registering your trademark?”
“I’m not making enough to afford to do that.”
“Sometimes you have to spend a little to make a lot, Sammy. You may need to take out a small business loan or look for an investor. You claim you want to buy me out of this house, and yet you refuse to let me show you how you could accomplish that.”
“When I want your help, I’ll ask for it. Now if you’d still like to make those deliveries after you talk to Ryan’s sister, I’ll be thrilled to let you do that.”
He couldn’t believe what a hardhead she could be.
“Fine,” he conceded. “I understand this is scary for you. If you want to knock yourself out selling a few hundred units each year, be my guest. But in my opinion, you could be moving ten thousand times that volume and making some real money. If you’re too proud to take my free advice, do yourself a favor and hire a business consultant.”
~*~
Sam was still searching for some pithy comeback long after Nick left to make her deliveries. Why did she constantly let him get her goat and allow him to make her feel like an ingrate whenever he butted into her business? If his objective really was to assist her, where was his so-called help when she wanted another baby? He was a total hypocrite.
She flopped back into the chair at her sewing machine, grinding her teeth. When her bare feet bumped into something hairy, her heart jumped into her throat. She shoved her chair back from the machine and discovered two brown eyes peering up at her from under the table.
“When did you sneak in here?” she asked the dog, who must have followed Nick upstairs and crept in while she was distracted by his master.
The animal rose abruptly and laid his big head in her lap, obviously hoping to be petted. She stiffened and winced as she tentatively stroked his head and found his fur surprisingly soft. “Nice puppy.”
Chewie licked her trembling hand, making a soft, high-pitched sound in the back of his throat. As a young child she’d been chased and knocked over by a neighbor’s boxer. The animal had pinned her to the ground and drooled in her face until its master intervened. Ever since, she’d been extremely nervous around dogs.
She dipped her head to look Nick’s pet in the eye. “You really aren’t at all ferocious, are you?”
The dog’s response was to lick her face.
“Yuck!” She swiped his doggie saliva from her cheek. “Just because we’re making friends with each other doesn’t mean I like you slobbering on me. Your breath smells like a trash can.”
The dog lapped at her face again.
“At least he wasn’t sleeping with Bethany,” she said, ruffling Chewie’s fur. Unfortunately, her immense relief over Nick’s revelation scared the bejeebers out of her.
Why would she care unless....
Was she stupidly falling for him again? Assuming she’d ever really stopped loving him—which she’d begun to doubt.
For over a year, her pride had insisted he’d killed her feelings with his mistrust and autocratic attitude about her getting pregnant agai
n. But in only the few days since he’d come back, he’d managed to reignite her hope that he would one day love her.
Nonetheless, his snooping through her files proved he was still the same exasperating, call-all-the-shots idiot he’d been when she divorced him. If Nick really wanted to reconcile with her as he claimed, why would he do something guaranteed to make her angry? And how would it benefit his cause if he assisted in making her independent?
Was it possible he’d been sincerely trying to help her? Or was he simply attempting to sabotage her effort to become self-supporting?
“No.” She shook her head, absently stroking Chewie’s fur. “Your master might be pushy and controlling, but he would never deliberately do anything that would hurt me.”
So if she was sure about the strength of Nick’s character and integrity, why was she resistant to letting him help her earn the most profit from her business?
Could he be right about her? Maybe she really was so determined to prove she didn’t need him that she’d made preserving her pride more important than her business’s success. If she truly hoped to pay the mortgage on her own, she needed to accept good advice and help from wherever it came—even from Nick.
Although she hated admitting it, their dispute that morning had been somewhat productive. But regardless of the fact they’d both driven home a few unwelcome truths, there was one thing Nick had been dead wrong about. She didn’t resent his ability to arouse her.
What she resented was that he really did seem to be the only man who could.
In reality, the key emotion incited by her lust and Nick’s ability to strip her of her inhibitions was shame. Deep, mortifying shame that, with only a few kisses and seductive caresses, he could make her beg like a wanton tramp.
It was a biological imperative for men to mate indiscriminately without regard for their feelings. Whereas she’d been taught nice girls waited for love and commitment. Every time she’d surrendered her self-respect and settled for physical pleasure in her marriage, rather than Nick’s love, she’d heard her pious aunt screaming, “Slut!”
The only thing that saved Sam from acknowledging that Scarlett Letter brand was, if she were truly easy, she would’ve slept with Adam by now. Except, he didn’t spark any more passion in her than Justin had.
The Great Bedroom War Page 13