Sebring

by Kristen Ashley

Then again, he didn’t like any of the shit they had to wade through.

  It was time he quit fucking around. It was time to form the intricate plan he had to form to get them through the shit and fulfill the promise he made a dead Hettie.

  It was time to get done, move on and guide them both to their happy.

  But first, because it was his job as her man that he give her more reasons life was worth living, he was going to take his woman to Vegas.

  * * * * *

  7:48 – Saturday Morning

  Nick woke feeling Livvie trailing a finger along his chest. The touch was light, sweet, and it stayed that way as she traced it down to his ribs.

  She added her mouth at the base of his throat, it tracked his collarbone.

  When he felt her hair gliding along his shoulder, he turned into her, gathering her in both arms, holding her on their sides.

  She hitched her leg on his hip, her fingers now trailing his back, her face in his throat.

  “Like your place,” she muttered, sounding sleepy.

  “Good,’ he muttered back, not sure why she said that since “good morning” was more appropriate, not to mention, they were waking in her bed for the first time.

  Maybe she preferred his.

  “It’s you,” she went on.

  “Yeah,” he replied unnecessarily, because it was. He spoke at all because she’d stopped but she seemed to be feeling chatty because she continued.

  “I feel safe there.”

  Fuck, he liked that.

  He closed his eyes and pulled her closer.

  “Good,” he whispered.

  She pressed even closer, her fingers no longer sketching mindlessly on his back but instead, her hand was pressed tight to his lat.

  “But I like you here,” she said, her voice softer, huskier, both of these with feeling.

  He rolled her to her back, rolling on top, lifting his head, catching her eyes.

  Yeah, she was feeling.

  A lot.

  Nick said nothing.

  “I like you in my house,” she continued. With her leg hitched on his hip, Nick had fallen through both when he rolled her. Now, she wrapped her calf around the back of his thigh. “I like you here because, if this fucks up, if I lose it, if I lose you, I’ll have that.”

  His gut started burning. His eyes never leaving hers, he wrapped his fist around his hard cock and started rubbing the tip against her.

  He felt her warm damp turn wet.

  He dropped his face closer.

  Her breath came faster, her eyes went slightly hazy, but she still stayed focused and kept whispering.

  “This fucks up, I can ramble around here all alone and be happier doing it, just having these memories of you being here with me.”

  She got that shit out.

  Time to shut it down.

  He caught at her pussy and slowly glided into Olivia’s soft sleek.

  She licked her lips, arching her back, her other leg wrapping around his ass, both her hands pressing hard into the muscle of his back.

  “This is not gonna fuck up,” he growled, gliding out and taking his time, doing the same gliding back in.

  “Okay, Nick.”

  He kept moving inside her.

  “We’re gonna make more memories. Here. At my place. Anywhere we fuckin’ want.”

  “Okay, honey,” she breathed.

  “We’re not gonna lose shit,” he promised.

  He kept moving, going deeper.

  She slid one hand up and curled it tight around the back of his neck, the other arm she wrapped around him to hold on.

  “I’m gonna make it good,” he vowed.

  She tipped her hips up, gazing into his eyes, now panting.

  “You gotta believe,” he ordered.

  “Believe,” she whispered.

  He went faster.

  She held on tighter.

  “You gotta believe, Livvie,” he grunted.

  “I believe, honey.”

  He took her mouth. He fucked her cunt. She came hard for him. He shot deep in her.

  He stayed on top and tangled his hand in the back of her hair, holding her still as he said in her ear, “No more talk like that. You think like that, you don’t sleep. You think like that, you worry. You gotta let that go, Liv. I’m gonna make it all okay. You gotta let it go and believe.”

  “I’ll let go.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise, Nick.”

  He drew in breath.

  He let it go.

  He felt her body yielding beneath him.

  She’d let it go too.

  Letting it go, it was time to move on.

  And it was Saturday. They had time to move on to good things.

  So he moved on, doing it lifting his head and again kissing his Livvie.

  * * * * *

  8:27 – Sunday Morning

  His back and shoulders to his headboard, his knees cocked, feet in the bed, his hand full of Livvie’s hair, holding it back, he thrust up, watching her take his cock with her mouth.

  “Fuck,” he grunted.

  Twisting her hair gently, he went still so he wouldn’t blow.

  She didn’t.

  Without him thrusting, she started bobbing.

  Fuck.

  “Livvie, only warning you’re gonna get,” he growled.

  Without breaking her rhythm, on an upward glide, she wrapped her hand around his dick as she released him with her mouth.

  Then she gave him her hot, hungry eyes as she jacked him.

  Jesus.

  Fuck.

  “Take me there, baby,” he ordered thickly, his hand still in her hair, gripping tight.

  She stayed between his legs but leaned over him, still jacking him, hand in the bed beside his hip, her beautiful face, gorgeous naked body and fist pumping his dick all he could see.

  “Fuck,” he grunted, thrusting up, fucking her hand.

  She made a noise that was hungrier than the look in her eyes.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, and closed his eyes as she took him there and he exploded, shooting on his stomach.

  She milked him dry, stroked him sweet and he came down with her pressed to his side, feeling her cheek on his shoulder, his hand still in her hair.

  He gave it a gentle tug, dipped his chin and caught her eyes before he took her mouth.

  Because she tasted good, because he was falling in love with her and because she’d earned it, he kissed her deep and wet and he did it for a fucking long time.

  He released her mouth after she released his cock and wrapped her arm around his ribcage.

  He opened his eyes to see her looking at him.

  “So, did that earn me cinnamon French toast?” she asked.

  Nick stared at her.

  Then he burst out laughing.

  * * * * *

  9:02 – The Same Sunday Morning

  Standing at his kitchen counter with Livvie next to him, close, in the curve of his arm, he lifted to her mouth a fork full of the crunch coated, cinnamon French toast smothered in maple syrup that he’d made his girl.

  When her lips closed around it, he slid the fork out. She chewed. He watched her eyes get big with happiness and wonder and she again meant more to him than she did the previous day…hell, the previous moment.

  And she did this in a way that he knew every moment with her would give him that same feeling.

  He wasn’t falling in love.

  She had him.

  He was hers.

  She swallowed and instantly asked, “Can I blow you and jack you every morning for French toast?”

  “Absolutely,” he answered just as instantly.

  She pressed deep and dissolved into laughter.

  Yeah.

  Definitely.

  Every moment with Livvie.

  She gave him that same feeling.

  In a way he knew.

  He knew.

  He knew she’d give him that now…

  And fo
rever.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Who Do You Belong To?

  Nick

  5:45 – That Next Friday Evening

  Nick sat in the aisle seat, staring ahead of him, only the stragglers that were sitting back in coach coming up the gangway.

  Liv was not beside him.

  An hour ago, she’d texted that she was on her way.

  It did not take an hour to get from DTC to DIA.

  From taking his seat in the waiting area prior to boarding to right then, having been sitting in his seat in first class for the last twenty minutes, he’d texted her three times and phoned once.

  He got nothing.

  His neck was not itching.

  He was coming out of his skin.

  They’d made their plans together, bought their tickets separately, and had chosen their adjoining seats on their respective laptops pressed up next to each other at his bar twenty-three hours and forty-nine minutes ago.

  Now he was getting nothing.

  He looked back to his phone in his hand when it beeped with a text. He pulled it up immediately.

  It wasn’t a text from Liv. It was a text from Sylvie.

  Knight’s men clean. Not a surprise. Your boys clean. Again no surprise. Focus now is on the Feds.

  As he suspected.

  It was good to have it confirmed. It would be fucking great to know, finally, who fucked him and Hettie from the inside.

  He didn’t reply to Sylvie. He also didn’t send another text to Olivia.

  He sent one to his boy who was on her.

  Where’s my woman?

  The reply came quickly.

  Peeled off fifteen minutes ago when she hit the door to DIA. She had no tail so I thought she was good. She’s not with you?

  His thumb ready to move on his phone, his head snapped up when he heard a soft, delicate, winded, “I made it!”

  He saw Olivia, looking flushed and flustered, smiling apologetically at the flight attendant as she rushed around the corner into the aisle.

  Her eyes came to him.

  Her smile got bigger.

  He slid out of his seat and did it frowning at her.

  Not only at her, at the fact she was late, smiling like she hadn’t scared the shit out of him, and last, she had no luggage with her.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” she greeted as she made her way to him. Reaching him, she put her hand to his abs and stretched up for a kiss.

  He continued to frown down at her so her smile wavered, her eyes grew confused and she aimed her kiss at his jaw.

  She slid into her seat while the flight attendant gave the announcement they soon would be closing the door.

  He sat and texted Casey, She’s here, all good.

  He then turned to his girl.

  “You gonna wear that outfit all weekend?” he asked as Olivia tucked her purse under the seat in front of her.

  She straightened, grabbing her seatbelt and looking to him.

  “Sorry?”

  “Babe,” he grunted. “Luggage.”

  “I checked it.”

  He stared at her.

  “That’s why I’m late,” she explained. “Traffic on 225. Just a semi off the road, but everyone had to slow down to gawk. Then I had to check my bag.”

  “You think to return my texts so I didn’t worry?” he asked.

  “I told you I was on my way and you know I don’t text and drive, Nick,” she retorted, her attention to her lap as she clicked her belt. Done with that, she again looked to him. “And calling you or texting you would have delayed me getting to you.”

  “Checking your bag delayed you too.”

  She shook her head in abbreviated shakes, like a head shudder, indicating she found what he said distasteful.

  Her tone stated the same thing when she decreed, “I don’t do carry-ons.”

  “Liv, we’re gonna be gone two days.”

  At that, she stared at him.

  Then she lifted a hand in a sweep up her front, ending with a flourish around her head, and asked with incredulity, “Do you think this happens with security allowances of carry-on liquids?”

  Nick felt his body jerk.

  Then he burst out laughing.

  “No,” she snapped through his laughter. “It doesn’t. One day. Two. Three. It doesn’t matter. I’d have to be gone an hour to do carry-on.”

  Still laughing, he caught her by the neck, pulled her to him and took her mouth in a deep kiss.

  She kissed him back just as deeply.

  Even so, when he lifted his head away, she declared, “That was a much better, ‘Hello, Livvie. I’m excited for our weekend away.’”

  “Hello, baby. I’m fuckin’ ecstatic about our weekend away.”

  Her mouth quirked and she murmured, “That works too.”

  He smiled at her.

  Her mouth stopped quirking and she smiled back.

  The plane started reversing from the gate and the flight attendant began the safety address.

  * * * * *

  7:45 – Vegas Time

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Olivia said while wandering into their suite at the Cosmopolitan, Nick following, his carry-on over his shoulder, rolling her huge-ass piece of luggage. “Because I’m famished and I need to inspect that Swarovski chandelier much closer, hopefully doing it holding a cocktail…oh!”

  The oh! was due to the fact he’d dumped their shit, and when she got close to the bed, he’d thrown her on it.

  He didn’t delay in shoving up her skirt.

  “Nick, sweetheart, I’m hungry.”

  Chest to the bed, hips over the side, he pushed her legs open, looking to her to see she’d lifted up on her elbows.

  “So am I.”

  “But, Nicky, I’m really hungry,” she whispered in that voice of hers, words he didn’t give a shit about but he still felt them in his dick.

  He took hold of the gusset of her panties and twisted them aside.

  Her eyes went hooded and her legs melted open.

  “So am I,” he growled in repeat.

  She made no reply.

  He dropped his mouth.

  Her head fell back.

  Nick ate first.

  He fed his woman later.

  * * * * *

  10:52 – Saturday Morning

  The curtains closed, the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, front to front on their sides, Nick lay naked and entangled in the king-size bed with his Livvie.

  “The mountains,” she whispered into his throat, her body warm and peaceful, her arms holding him lightly, her breasts brushing his chest, her legs entwined with his. “A house in the middle of nowhere but with a town close by so I don’t have to drive too far in bad weather to get groceries.”

  He’d started their day making love.

  Now Olivia was in the mood to whisper to him.

  Whisper about everything.

  Not everything in the sense there were a lot of words.

  Everything in the sense the words she was saying said a lot.

  But Nick said nothing. He gave back only his silence as indication he wanted more of Liv’s everything while he wove his fingers in her soft hair.

  “House big, but not ostentatious. Rustic. Homey. Lived-in,” she went on quietly.

  Nick remained silent as she told him her dream future.

  “Good people in town,” she continued. “They know me but don’t know me. Friendly. I’ll be friendly back. But my life will be at home.”

  At that, Nick spoke.

  “Kids?”

  This time, Liv stayed quiet.

  He dipped his chin to see the shadowed top of her head.

  “Livvie?”

  “I can’t,” she told his throat.

  She couldn’t?

  Reflexively, he stopped playing with her hair and wrapped both arms tighter around her.

  “You can’t?”

  She tipped her head back. “Not safe.”

  She could.

  Because
of those jackals in her life, she just wouldn’t.

  “I’ll make you safe, Liv.”

  She shook her head.

  “Not safe,” she repeated.

  He gathered her even closer, pulling her up so they were eye to eye. “We get there, we get to that place, we want kids, I’ll make it safe.”

  “They can’t have anything to use to get to me,” she told him and finished, “or you.”

  “They won’t factor in the equation.”

  “Nick—”

  “Livvie, honest to God, don’t want to sound like a conceited asshole, but I know I’m not hard to look at and you’re fuckin’ beautiful. It might have taken me a while to demonstrate I had a brain in my head, but I eventually did. I’m not dumb and you’re far from stupid. We get to that place, we gotta have kids. It’s our duty to this earth to give it that beauty.”

  In the light eking around the curtains, he saw her lips part, she pressed closer for a moment, only to move slightly away.

  He pulled her close again.

  “I don’t want a child of mine to become me,” she said.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he stated, steel in each word.

  “You know what I mean, Nick,” she replied, each word soft and edged in pain.

  “I know what you mean and that’s just not gonna happen.”

  “And maybe my mom thought that before she had Georgia and me, gave up and took off,” she noted.

  “And maybe your mom is a stupid, weak, useless bitch,” he returned. “What’s not a maybe is you’re not.”

  “Nick.”

  His name was all she said.

  So he kept at her.

  “We get there…and just so you know, baby, that’s where I’m heading us and I like where we’re going…I can’t say I’ll take you to the mountains so you can disappear. I got a business. I gotta see to that business. And that business is in the city. What I can say is, I’ll get you a place up there we can visit. And when we’re at home, wherever we’re makin’ that home, I’ll make you safe. And if we get to that place, we’re making a family. When we do that, I’ll make them safe. You’ll live free and easy. They’ll live free and easy. That’s what I can say. And we keep on, we get to where we’re headed, you gotta do what you promised along the way and believe.”