No way. No way was I going to let her feel like she had to apologize.
I told Brandon I’d be right back, then I muted the call and set down the phone on the entryway table.
I closed the distance, cupped her cheek. “Nina, you have nothing to be sorry for.”
She shook her head, like she was mad at herself. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have acted like we were a thing, or like we did things together.” It came out in a whisper.
I tilted my head. “But we do. We do hang out together. And we will keep doing that. You know that, don’t you?”
But her shoulders still radiated tension. Her jaw was set hard. I tucked a finger under her chin, raising her face. “We’re good. I promise.”
She let out a long gust of breath. “Please know I wasn’t trying to suggest anything. It just came out. I guess because you’ve been staying here this week, and we got into a rhythm with the dinners and everything.” She laughed, but it sounded forced. “Anyway, I know we’re not a we. We’re just friends, and it will be so fun to see Brandon as friends.”
She flashed me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, then she shoved my shoulder like a pal would do. “Go finish with Brandon. He needs you.”
I swiped my thumb over her chin. “He’s doing well. I swear. Last time I saw him, he was definitely himself again.”
“Good,” she said with a smile. “I’ve been hoping he would be.”
“But are you okay?” I pressed.
“I’m good. We’re good. I swear. I need to get ready for my client.”
But were we good? Was she? I couldn’t read her. Couldn’t tell if she was covering something up.
For the first time since we’d been friends, I wasn’t sure how to proceed. So I reverted to the other thing we were—temporary lovers. Leaning on that, I curled a hand around her head and whispered roughly, “I’ll see you tonight, and when I do, you’re going to get on your knees, just the way you want.”
A tremble seemed to vibrate across her body. Her chocolate eyes sparkled. There. I’d restored our balance by focusing on the mission—her list. The decadent, fantastic list that I was lucky enough to work on.
God bless women and their to-do-loving minds.
Grabbing the phone, I headed for the door and unmuted it, returning to Brandon.
Brandon stared, wide-eyed, like he was tapping his toe. “Oh, hi. How are you? Good to see you again. I did all my banking and taxes and emails while you were gone. So, ahem, what was that?”
“What was what?” I asked, as if I didn’t know.
His eyebrow rose. “That was, like, a minute-long conversation. On mute.” He tapped his chin, like he was deep in thought. “Gee, I wonder. Are you involved with her?”
Pushing open the stairwell, I headed for the steps so I could have this talk in private, though I didn’t intend to tell him a single thing Nina had confided in me. Well, she’d only confided in me after I’d stumbled across the treasure map to her desire. But even so, she’d shared something private, and I wasn’t about to serve it up to anyone. If Nina chose to tell her friends, that was one thing. It wasn’t my info to share.
“No, but I had something I needed to talk to her about that didn’t pertain to you. What brings you to Vegas? How long will you be in town?”
“Didn’t ‘pertain’ to me? Aren’t you fancy?”
I rolled my eyes. “Answers, man, answers.”
“I arrive Saturday morning. Last-minute meetings at the big convention in town. Didn’t expect to be going, but alas, plans change. I’ll be there for a couple of days, then I’m heading to Los Angeles for a shoot. A commercial I’m doing for a watchmaker.” Brandon was a top-notch cinematographer, working for advertisers all over the world.
“Need a place to stay here? Mine is being painted, but they should be done by then.”
“I don’t want to cramp your style. I’m sure I can find some dingy cut-rate motel off the Strip.”
I rolled my eyes. “The offer stands.”
“Merci.” His expression shifted to serious. “Listen, if you’re not involved with Nina, what do you think about me—”
“No.” One word. Sharp as a knife.
He cracked up, pointing at me, laughing his head off. “You are so busted. The way you flew off the handle was brilliant. Does she know you’re secretly in love with her?”
I bounded down the steps, scoffing at his assessment. He was wrong. Dead wrong. That feeling in my chest last night wasn’t love. It was . . . what was it? I snapped my fingers, finding the answer. Affection. Yeah, that sounded about right. Naturally I’d feel affection for a good friend. Not love. Besides, my heart was in time-out after Rose, and the clock hadn’t wound down yet. “First of all, I’m not in love with her. I’m not in anything with her. But I still don’t want you hitting on her,” I said.
“And why’s that?”
I wasn’t going to tell him the nitty-gritty, but I could still be honest. “Because you’re a layover. And she’s not that kind of girl. She’s not into hookups,” I said, confident that what Nina and I were doing was not a hookup.
We were having a moment to work through her wishes.
A bucket list was born out of need, not out of an itch to scratch.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Then, once you do find the balls to make your move, you’d better make sure you’re not a hookup.”
“Again, I’m not making any moves. She’s a friend. Just a friend.”
He moved closer to the screen. “Sure, for now. But even through the haze of FaceTime, I can tell by the way you look at her. Don’t forget—I record emotions for a living, and yours are written all over your face. You might want to deal with that sooner rather than later.”
“Thanks for the unsolicited advice,” I said robotically. “Please remember to check it at the door next time.”
He smiled, a gregarious grin I knew well. “C’mon. It’s what I do, man. I tell you the truth because that’s my job. That’s what we do for each other. You’ve always called me out on my bullshit when it comes to women and work and life. Hell, how many times have you told me I need to move on?”
I sighed heavily, letting go of my annoyance. How could I harbor any frustration when the man mentioned, even without saying her name, the woman he’d lost? The reason he’d hit on the gals from Montreal last year was he knew he wasn’t going home with them. He hadn’t gone home with anyone since his long-time girlfriend had died three years ago in a fatal car wreck. He’d simply covered up his pain with harmless flirting that went nowhere. But lately, he’d seemed better, happier, more together.
I leveled him with a stare. “I say it because I want you to be happy again, you miserable bastard. I want you to find a sliver of what you once had.”
“That’ll never happen.”
“Do you really believe that?” I asked, hoping he’d say no.
He just shrugged, and I hated that a part of him did believe it. I’d do nearly anything to help him find that place again where he could be happy.
“Look, Brand. I get it. What happened was devastating, no denying that,” I said, because the man splintered in a million pieces when he lost Jenna. But he’d steadily been picking himself up, finding ways to enjoy life. Taking off to live in Paris was part of that, escaping from the memories of his life here in Vegas with his longtime girl. I missed him, but I’d hoped the new location was exactly what he’d needed to move through his grief. Only, I didn’t know if he’d truly made a life there. “And when you’re ready, you’ll be ready,” I added. “But I hope for your sake it’s soon, because it would be awesome to see you with a legit smile again.”
He flashed another half grin. “I’m happy enough. And I’ll be happy for you when you face your feelings for your Robin. Or your Catwoman. Whatever she is to you. See you this weekend,” he said with a smile and ended the call.
As I stared at the blank screen, I shook my head, talking back to the emptiness. “There’s nothing to face,�
�� I said, and I believed it. I had to believe it. Feelings weren’t part of the equation. They couldn’t be. Nina didn’t want them. I was allergic to them. Besides, I didn’t want to play Batman and Robin with her.
When I hopped into my Tesla, my phone dinged with a text message. I slid it open to find the painter updating me.
David the Painter: We will be there shortly! We should be finished by tomorrow at the latest.
I sent a quick thanks and pulled out of the garage, running through options this weekend for our regular crew of friends, plus Brandon. The club we all liked at The Luxe, a nearby pool hall, or maybe dinner at a swank eatery in The Cosmopolitan.
Would Nina and I go out as clandestine lovers or friends once more? Would we be done with her list by then?
My muscles tightened at the thought, but I shook it off as I headed into the office.
Her list was full of items, and we’d tackle them all.
Including number eleven.
I’d find a way to make all her wishes come true.
That was what I wanted for Nina. For my friend. The woman deserved the world. She deserved to know, too, that I was still the man she could trust, that I hadn’t run off and told Brandon anything at all.
After I said hello to my employees, I shut my office door and picked up my phone.
13
Adam
I tapped out a simple text.
Adam: Hey you.
Nina: Hi.
Adam: I need you to know—I won’t say a word to anyone. What we did is personal. I’m not the type of guy who brags and you are NOT a conquest.
Nina: Thank you. Also, I know you’re not that type of guy.
Adam: But I do know you’re close to your friends, so if you want to share with them, I have no issues with that. I get that women like to share.
Nina: Got it. I have the seal of approval to tell Lily and Kate you have a big d-i-c-k.
Nina: Oops!
Nina: Wherever did that naughty side of me come from?
Adam: That naughty side is you, Nina. By the way, this morning was absolutely amazing.
Nina: It was for me. But was it for you?
Adam: Couldn’t you tell how much I loved it?
Nina: I think, but in all honesty, I’m still figuring this out. Everything is new to me.
I leaned back in my chair, rereading that, letting the enormity of her words sink in. Her question was normal, something any woman would ask of her man, and a man of his woman. But with Nina, there was a whole other layer. She didn’t have any history to compare me to. And I loved that. I craved being her first everything. And this was a first for her too—talking about what she’d done. Not only had she let me in, now she was letting me in her head in another way. And I wanted to honor that and give her what she needed too.
Adam: Let me help you figure this out. You shouldn’t just “think” I loved it. I want you to be certain. Without a shadow of a doubt. Close your eyes and remember how I stared at every inch of your exquisite body like a man possessed. How I devoured your perfect pink pussy like I was starving. Nina, I wanted my face covered in your juices. I still do. I could lick you all day. The only thing to figure out is how quickly I can get my mouth on your sweetness again, because I am rock hard right now.
Nina: Well, that *does* seem to answer my question. Thank you for knowing what I needed. And thanks for making me need to go change my panties again because they’re soaked now.
Adam: As they should be when you talk to me. And now that we’re clear on how I loved every single second of going down on you, I want you to tell me where your head is about last night, about this morning. I want to know how you’re doing.
She didn’t respond right away. But the three flashing dots indicated she was typing, and considering how long they flickered, she must have been typing a lot. But when her reply arrived, it was short. To the point.
Nina: This is where my head is—what do you think of me now?
I sat up straight. Dragged a hand through my hair. Was she worried I’d think differently of her? That wouldn’t do.
Adam: I think you’re beautiful and sexy, and I love that you know your own mind. That you want to explore your body. I love that you’re taking charge of your pleasure. And I feel like the luckiest man in the whole damn city to be the one to help you. Does that make it clear where my head is?
Nina: I think so. Also, I can’t stop thinking about the table.
Adam: I can’t either. You were spectacular. You come so gloriously. It’s incredible watching you.
Nina: I like to watch you too when you touch me.
Adam: Yeah? You liked looking at my face between your legs?
Nina: I loved it. Loved the way you looked when you devoured me.
Of course she loved to watch. She was the observer. And she was dead-on with her summation.
Adam: Did you take pictures with your mind’s eye?
Nina: They’re in my head. They don’t stop playing.
Adam: Don’t I know that? You are all I can picture right now. I should be working through my call list, but instead I’m seeing your lush body spread across the table. I can still hear your noises, I can feel your smooth skin, and I can still taste you. You taste like heaven, Nina.
Nina: I want to know what you taste like. All of you. I want to feel you in my mouth. I want to take you deep in my throat and watch the expressions on your face as you come.
I dropped my forehead to my hand. I was an inferno. How was I going to make it through this day? The images in my mind were obscene, just the way I liked them, and just the way that would distract me all day long.
Adam: Woman, I am so goddamn hard right now, and I have to go to a meeting in fifteen minutes. And I don’t want to stop with you. All I want to do is tell you how much more I want to do to you and with you.
Nina: I want you to do everything.
I swallowed roughly as I read that last one again and again. I wanted to do everything with her. Every last thing. And since we were being so open about our bedroom wishes, I needed to open the door for her to back out. That was the last thing I wanted in the universe, but I cared too much about her not to ask. I had to.
Adam: Are you still good with this? Do you still feel okay about working through your list? What you told me this morning stayed with me. It resonated. I listened. We don’t have to cross that line if you don’t want to.
Nina: Adam, I’m so good with this. I promise you. I’m ready. I feel like I’m finally breaking free of my head.
Adam: Your head must be a wondrous and filthy place.
Nina: It is. That’s the good and bad of it. I’ve lived all my sexuality in my mind and in my bed by myself. I’ve only ever had sex with myself and with my fantasies. And now my fantasies are becoming reality. It’s like I’m understanding who I am in a whole new way.
This was another text that called for a second read, a third, a fourth. Because this one touched a different part of me. It touched my mind. It touched my heart that cared deeply for this woman. And it stirred up something new for me too—a deep and powerful sense of privilege. It was such a privilege to be the one she trusted. I never wanted to betray that trust.
Adam: Who you are is incredible, and I want to be the one to help you explore all your desires. So I’m going to ask now, and I’ll ask again tonight, because I want you to be 100 percent certain—here goes. Will you give me your virginity tonight?
14
Nina
He didn’t say fuck.
Or sleep with me or make love to me. There would be no making love. I didn’t want that. We weren’t those kinds of people.
But even though I liked it hard and rough, I also discovered something new as I read his last message.
Every now and then, I liked a little tenderness. Maybe it was the occasional soft kiss like he gave me before bed, or perhaps it was his devoted touch, like in the shower this morning. Or maybe it came in the form of words.
Like now.
&n
bsp; Will you give me your virginity?
He didn’t say he wanted to take it.
He wanted me to give it. And give it to him. He knew it was my body, my innocence to give away. It wasn’t his to take. It wasn’t anyone’s to take. It belonged to me, and I had the power to choose when to walk away from it.
He understood that deeply.
That was what his question told me. In a message about sex, I saw there was so much more to this man. And I feared when I gave my virginity to him, the act might be more than sex for me.
I’d have to do everything I could to focus on the physical, and only the physical.
Thank God I had a shoot in a few minutes. That was what I needed. Bodies, images, pictures. A world I knew intimately.
Me in my zone. The more time I spent in a space I knew well, the better off I’d be later tonight. Because I didn’t want to lose myself when I entered new territory with Adam.
Photography would center me, as it always had.
The Virgin Gift Page 8