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Deal Breaker: Billionaire Bosses

Page 18

by Tara Leigh


  Madison wasn’t perturbed in the slightest, her pink sprinkled lips pulling into a wide grin. “That’s a great idea, Uncle Nash. Girls like those.”

  She ran skipping off and Nash turned to me. “Out of the mouths of babes, right?”

  My face was hot, and probably as pink as Madison’s cookie. “That was all your suggestion, not hers.”

  “It got her royal endorsement though.”

  I released a sigh and shook my head. “You’re incorrigible.” He was, much like a four-year-old.

  “Maybe. So, are you still scared?”

  A hollow laugh vibrated through my chest. “Uh, yeah. Of you.”

  “Me?” Nash’s look of bewilderment was almost comical.

  “Yes.” More than you’ll ever know.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Nash

  Nixie hadn’t forgotten her sunscreen, after all, and I discovered that there were few things on earth more enjoyable than rubbing the creamy lotion into her perfect skin. I would have preferred to delve into places the sun didn’t shine, but we were watching the twins while Eva joined Celeste and Reina on a trip into town for some retail therapy. They’d invited Nixie, too, but she’d said she would rather join me and the kids on the beach.

  If I couldn’t see Nixie naked, spread across my sheets, at least the sight of her in a bikini was a worthy replacement.

  We’d arrived yesterday morning and I’d gone for a seven-mile run along the beach last night and again this morning. My parents were arriving tomorrow. My friend Tristan was delayed, overseeing an SEC filing, but would be here soon.

  Until we brought Madison and Parker to the beach, Nixie and I had been surrounded by three grown women who’d made it their mission to talk faster and louder than Madison, which I wouldn’t have believed possible until I heard it with my own ears.

  I’d spent the past hour not so subtly watching Nixie help Parker make an impressive sandcastle on the beach while I took a more daring Maddie out into the waves. Since our kiss, during those blissful few minutes on the plane, this was the closest we’d been to alone—and we were thirty yards away from each other. Me in the water and her on the beach, two preschoolers pushing us to separate corners.

  Nixie was great with Madison and Parker. She didn’t talk down to them, didn’t treat them like a nuisance. She had a way of being present, completely in the moment, neither intrusive nor indifferent. The kids enjoyed being around her, and so did I. And even though my thoughts weren’t exactly PG, not all of them involved getting inside her bikini bottoms. Almost, but not quite all.

  I lifted Madison for one more wave, letting it crash just below her shoulders so I could hear the excited, happy squeal that never got old, and pulled her back against my chest. “What do you say, Maddie—want to go check out your brother’s sandcastle, maybe help them build a moat?”

  She held up a tiny finger. “But first, one more wave.”

  I think my grin was permanently affixed to my face by now. “You drive a hard bargain, Princess Madison.”

  Three waves later, we emerged from the surf and staggered toward the elaborate sandcastle Nixie and Parker had built. “Help has arrived,” I announced.

  Nixie and Parker looked up at us, the same nonplussed expressions on their faces. “Oh good, we were having a rough go of it over here, right Parker?” Sarcasm delivered with a smile.

  “She’s a good builder, Uncle Nash. Even better than you.”

  I feigned hurt. “Even better than me?”

  Incapable of even the whitest lie, Parker looked away, busying himself filling another plastic bucket with sand.

  Madison took advantage of the break in conversation, proudly holding up her hands, palms facing out. “Look—I got brinkles!”

  Nixie’s gorgeous eyes were covered by a pair of Ray Bans, but I saw her brows knit together in a confused frown above the darkened lenses. Duplicating Madison’s gesture, I added, “So waterlogged, we have prunes for fingerprints.”

  Nixie nodded in understanding. “Ah. Are they too wrinkled to dig a moat?”

  “No!” Madison squealed, dropping to Nixie’s side and plunging her tiny hands into the wet sand.

  An hour later, their entire sand city was surrounded by an impressively deep moat, and the two four-year-olds could barely keep their eyes open. I looked at my watch. “I’m thinking we should bring them both back to the house for a nap before they face-plant in the sand.”

  Parker turned drooping eyes to me. “We’re not babies anymore, Uncle Nash. We don’t nap.”

  “When you go to sleep too late and you wake up too early—”

  Madison’s little body vibrated with exhaustion and anger. “I don’t wanna nap,” she screeched.

  Nixie jumped to her feet and pulled Madison into her arms. “No, of course not,” she crooned in a soothing tone. “How about a rest, okay? Even big kids need to take a little rest after building the best sandcastle on the whole beach.” Nixie began walking back toward the house and I immediately picked Parker up and fell into step behind her. By the time we reached the back door of the Van Hornes’ impressive estate, both kids were sound asleep, their heads heavy on our shoulders.

  We made our way up the stairs to where Madison and Parker were sharing a room that adjoined Eva’s and slipped them beneath the sheets of two single beds. Grabbing the monitor from Eva’s nightstand, I closed the door to their room and joined Nixie in the hall. The comfort that had sprung up between us as we took care of the kids together collapsed as quickly as a sand castle turret struck by a rogue wave.

  “So . . .” I began.

  Nixie lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head. “Are you going to compare yourself to Derrick again? Or tell me that your intentions aren’t good enough?”

  Her tone was light, teasing, but there was an edge to her words it was impossible to miss. “Nixie, I—”

  “What?” She leaned back against the wall, her skin glowing from sunshine and ocean air. “Will there come a time where I’m willing to settle for less and you’re willing to give a little more?”

  Something inside my brain clicked into place. “You should never settle.”

  “And you’re capable of so much more, why deny it?”

  I swallowed heavily. I had my reasons, but right now I couldn’t think of a single one. “I can’t make any promises, Nixie. This is all new to me.”

  “I won’t ask for anything you’re not willing to give.” Nixie was quoting my own words back at me and it made me want to swallow her whole.

  “You’re one hell of a negotiator.” My voice was gruff as I lifted her into my arms, one at her back and the other beneath her knees.

  Nixie gave a quick gasp. “I learned from the best.”

  I walked down the hall and into my room, pushing the door closed with the heel of my foot. Stopping short of throwing Nixie on the bed and ravaging her like the caveman inside of me, pounding against my ribcage, I pressed my back against the door, staring into Nixie’s stunned face. So damned beautiful. Ripples of need coursed between us, oxygen expanding with uncertainly, with risk. “You want this,” I stated plainly, not entirely sure Nixie would agree, not knowing what I would do if she didn’t.

  “Yes,” she whispered, the single word less a declaration than a white flag of surrender. Whatever it was, whatever she meant, I took it. Stalking to the center of the room, I laid her gently across the king size mattress, a carved mahogany post rising from each corner. I stepped back, anticipation building as I took in the view. Fire shone from Nixie’s wind-blown hair, her amber eyes blazing with heat as if she had swallowed the sun itself. Her skin glistened from sunscreen, bits of sand clinging to her curves like diamonds. I didn’t blame them. But it was her soft pink tongue, slipping between her lips, darting from one corner of her mouth to the other, that was my undoing.

  “Nixie,” I growled, setting one knee on either side of her taut thighs sprawled across the mattress. I splayed my palms on her narrow abdomen, fingers curving around he
r waist, my thumbs just below the shallow well of her belly button. Her body was vibrating beneath my hands, like a race car warming up. “You’re shaking,” I said, stating the obvious.

  She bit her lower lip, another tremor shaking her slight frame. “I know. Nerves, I guess.”

  I slid my hands from Nixie’s waist to her ribcage, the curved bones so delicate beneath my fingers, the wild thumping of her heart pulsing against my palm. Running my thumbs along the coral band beneath the twin triangles tied at her neck, I made a silent promise to take things slow, keep my lust in check. Every woman I’d ever been with had somehow led me here, to Nixie. I didn’t deserve her, and I’d be damned if I disappointed her. “You don’t have to be nervous with me, Nixie. Ever.”

  “I know.” Suddenly her hands flew to her face, covering her eyes. “It’s just been a while . . . and I’ve only been with one person, and—”

  Gently, I pried Nixie’s hands away, bringing them to my mouth and kissing her knuckles. “Hey, we’ll do this at your pace. And the only thing I want is for you to feel good. That’s all.” I turned her arms over, exposing fragile wrists with a delicate spider web of blue veins running beneath the skin. I pressed my lips to each one, swirling my tongue along her pulse points.

  Nixie sucked in a quick breath, another shiver vibrating through her. “That feels good,” she whispered, the undertone of awe in her voice sending a surge of heat racing through my body, blistering the skin at the back of my neck. I nibbled along the tender skin between Nixie’s wrist and the crook of her elbow, taking my time, tasting every inch. Her skin was naturally sweet, the sunscreen adding a hint of coconut. If she were holding an umbrella, she’d make a mean piña colada.

  Topaz eyes smoldered like a barely banked fire. I wanted to throw another log on, and then a gallon of gasoline, too, just to see how bright I could get them. Sliding my palms along her arms, I pulled at the string tied at her neck. It came loose in my hands and I kept at it, the triangles peeling from Nixie’s breasts, exposing pale pink nipples that capped two perfect teardrop mounds. Beneath the intensity of my stare, they pebbled, darkening slightly. I didn’t want to breathe, didn’t want to move, but my gaze was pulled back to Nixie’s face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Nixie. Do you even know what you do to me?” The admission was wrenched from my throat, emerging as if the path had been covered in dirt and shards of broken glass.

  Her mouth opened, pink tongue peeking out again. “Show me,” she said.

  I took the request as a challenge. I would show her, all right. Show her so much that tonight would erase the memory of the only man to come before me. There was an edge of fury to the lust simmering in my veins. A possessiveness I’d never felt for anyone before. I hated that another man had ever seen Nixie like this, touched her in places I was just now being given access to. Another man had planted his flag and then hurt her, and I wanted to snap him, and his damn flag, in half.

  But that would have to wait. For now, I wound the string around the back of my hand, over and over until the top lifted completely from her chest. I lobbed the bikini across the room. As my breath caught in the back of my throat, I lifted hands to Nixie’s face, tracing her high cheekbones, delicately arched brows, the slight snow-jump of her nose. My fingers threading into her thick hair, I finally allowed myself to sample her lips, my tongue following the path hers had taken. They parted, inviting my exploration. She moaned, and I swallowed the sound, fed on it. “Fucking perfect,” I mumbled.

  Nixie’s mouth lifted into a smile, a soft laugh escaping. “No one’s perfect.”

  “Then you’ve never looked in a mirror.” She stilled beneath me, her hands sliding to my shoulders. I pulled back, trying to read the questions swirling in her eyes. “What?”

  “I just want to know, is this—” She stuttered, stopped. Started again. “Do you say that to all the girls you take to bed? Because if you do, it’s fine.” Tears welled up, barely contained by the thick fringe of her lashes. “I’d just rather you didn’t say them to me, that’s all.”

  Is that what Nixie thought? That this was some kind of pre-scripted routine for me? That other women affected me the same way she did? Jesus. I sat back on my heels, the backs of my thighs sliding against the tops of hers, running ragged hands through my hair, pulling at the back of my neck and blowing out a heavy breath. “Nixie, I swear to you—nothing I’ve ever said to you, nothing I’ve ever thought about you, nothing I’ve ever wanted to do to you—bears even the slightest similarity to anything I’ve ever said or thought or wanted before. With anyone. This is new territory for me.”

  She sniffed, skepticism reflected in her taut brows as she sank her top teeth into the pinkness of her bottom lip. “Really?”

  “Really. But if you don’t believe me, I don’t want to go any further. Not if I make you feel like some chick I picked up from a dive bar.”

  Nixie tilted her head, lips twitching as she looked up at me from the corner of her eye. “You wouldn’t be caught dead in a dive bar.”

  “Exactly my point.”

  I waited as she mulled over her next question. “When we go back to New York, will this ever happen again?”

  “By this, do you mean the two of us, in a bed, together?” She jerked a nod. “That’s up to you, Nixie. But I hope to hell it will.”

  “Where? The hotel?”

  Understanding was finally breaking through my lust-addled brain. “Anywhere you want. My place, your place, the Central Park Zoo. Wherever you let me.”

  Nixie

  Nash ran a hand through the thick hair at his scalp, giving it that sexy, mussed look only Abercrombie models could carry off. And Nash Knight—too well. His eyes were dark with desire, and I could picture him as a surly teen, fighting off busty cheerleaders more often than opponents at the boxing gym. Although if teenaged Nash was anything like thirty-something Nash, he probably didn’t resist very much. My stomach clenched, jealousy turning the contents to acid.

  But the Nash above me wasn’t a teenager, or the cocky jerk he’d been when we first met. His personality had so many facets it was impossible to encompass with one pithy stereotype. Nash was real. And right now, he was mine.

  Another tremor rolled through me, each vibration shaking off a little more of my fear, another layer of my doubt. Could it be that I actually meant something to Nash? That he wanted me, cared for me? That I wasn’t just another body in the endless stream that had slipped beneath him?

  I wanted to believe him, so much. And something in his voice, in his touch, something etched into the tiny creases at the corners of his eyes, and his eyes themselves—soft green moss I wanted to roll around in, framed by inky black lashes I wished I could steal—told me he was telling the truth. Or, at least, what he believed to be the truth. Not exactly the same, but I was finally willing to leap over the gap.

  What had built up between us was too strong to deny, and whatever happened after this, so be it. I didn’t know what I was getting into, only that I wasn’t willing to push Nash away again. “Okay,” I murmured, reaching for his arms and pulling him back down. I needed to feel his weight on me, run my hands over muscles that rose beneath his skin like a topographical map commissioned from Michelangelo.

  Nash dropped his chin to the curve of my shoulder, his breath dancing along my flesh. “You’re like no one I’ve ever known, Nixie. And whenever you look at me like you’re doing right now, with your eyes all soft and a smile on your lips, you make me think I must be doing something to deserve it.” He planted a light kiss in the center of my forehead. “You’re a challenge and a gift, and I’ve been waiting to unwrap you since the minute I tucked you beneath the covers of my bed.”

  A nervous laugh tripped from my throat, my breasts pressing against him. “There’s not much wrapping left.”

  He glanced down at my bikini bottom, his grin like a matchstick dragging along the surface of my skin, leaving sparks in its wake. “I saved the best for last.”

  I would have laughed again,
but suddenly that mouth was closed around my nipple, my eyes rolling back in my head as I felt the graze of his teeth, the flick of his tongue. I arched up into his mouth as my fingers curved around his shoulder, running my palms along smooth skin and taut muscles that coiled and jumped beneath my touch. Forget about a knight in shining armor—Nash was a goddamned gladiator.

  Another bite, not enough to hurt, just enough to make my breath shudder inside my lungs. My fingernails became claws, leaving half-moon indents at uneven intervals along his spine. Just as I was about to scream at the sensory overload, he lifted his head, blowing softly on the wet peak. There. Are. No. Words.

  My entire body tensed. I was a fish caught on a line, or maybe the worm used as bait, temporarily paralyzed with shock at the first sting of the hook.

  Perfectionist that he is, Nash did it all over again on the other side.

  The moment broke, sensations flooding in. My limbs loosened and I was squirming, making noises I didn’t recognize as my own. Nash lifted his head, pushing back on his forearms, his gaze sweeping along my heated flesh. I’d always felt shy when Derrick looked at my naked body, never able to read those fathomless eyes of his. Ignoring the vulnerability solidifying inside my bones, I forced myself to watch Nash’s face, reading the hard planes and strong hollows. What I saw didn’t make me feel ashamed or afraid. Or dirty. Adoration was written in every pore.

  He drew in a shaky breath. “Point of no return, baby. I swear on my life I’ll take care of you, but if we go any further, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

  An air bubble of panic broke free, rising up the column of my throat. I swallowed it, flattening my palms on his chest, taking comfort in a pulse that was racing as fast as my own. “Don’t you dare stop, Nash.”

  He bit down on a roguish smile, one eyebrow lifting at my command. Rough hands wrapped around mine, holding them above my head as he slid down my body. “I wouldn’t dare,” he quipped, but the words were lost as his tongue scavenged the hollow of my belly, the slide of my hips, the curve of my thighs.

 

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