Burning Down the Spouse

by Dakota Cassidy

  He nuzzled the top of her head, inhaling, his wide chest expanding against hers, making her nipples rub with delicious friction against her bra.

  “So, about the naked thing,” he muttered, kissing her earlobe.

  “What about it?” she mumbled back, lost in the sway of their bodies.

  His fingers ran the length of the edge of her shirt, toying with her, teasing her hot flesh. “You ready for it?”

  Her breathing hitched. Yes. No. Yes, yes, no. “Is this a sticking point, or is there room for negotiation?”

  Nikos’s chuckle was thick and sinful. “I hear it’s part of the deal, but I’m pretty creative. I’m sure I could find a way to work around it. Though, I’ll just say here and now, I think you’re worried over nothing.”

  “That’s because you haven’t seen me and my ribs sticking out or the cellulite on my thighs.” Her stomach jolted at the idea of his perfection meeting her imperfection in a blend of perfect imperfection.

  “And I won’t because I can’t see two inches in front of me. So we’re good to go?”

  Point. “Wait. One more little niggle. What if I’m really crappy in bed? What if, because I am a total novice, and I don’t know much more than a recently deflowered eighteen-year-old about, you know, stuff, I end up being the pits in the sack? Will you laugh at me behind my back with Simon and Marco while you slug back brewskis and eat chicken wings?”

  “Simon doesn’t like beer. He’s a booze snob, and we all know what happens to Marco when he slugs back anything alcoholic. But I’m sure he’d be the voice of admonishing reason in our quest to mock your skillz,” he teased against her ear, entwining his fingers with her shaking ones.

  “So you will laugh at me. I should have known you were too good to be true,” she joked back, knowing full well Nikos was trying to ease her fears.

  “It’ll only be just a snicker, but then I’ll move on to the next postdivorce ex-trophy wife and forget all about you and your not-sowicked bedsport ways. Promise.”

  Frankie smiled. “I’d feel so much better knowing you’d move forward with such eloquence and tact.”

  “I’m nothing if not eloquent, and on a serious note, Frankie, here’s the deal. Let’s just say, for all intents and purposes and to ease your apprehension, we don’t see fireworks and rainbows. I guarantee you it’ll be a helluva lot of fun working that out until we get it right. I do have faith we’ll get it right, if not tonight, eventually.”

  Oh, this man. Either he was the smoothest operator this side of the Mason-Dixon, or he was a really genuine find. In a diner. In Jersey. Of all the places. God, please—don’t let him be like Mitch. Please, please, please, don’t let me get this wrong again. I just can’t be a loser in such a big way more than once in a lifetime. “You’re a very patient, decent man, Antonakas. Or you’re full of shit.”

  Another chuckle rippled from his throat. “Well, you won’t know that until the day after, and I’ll have achieved my dastardly goal by then. So I have time on my side.”

  “You’re very charming . . .” Jesus. That word.

  “And that reminds you of Mitch.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I met him. My kind of charming is a whole different breed, Frankie.”

  The sincerity in Nikos’s voice was definitely different than Mitch’s brand of genuine. It was a subtle difference, but it was there.

  Her sigh was shaking, rattling on its way out. “Then, okay . . . I think I’m ready. ‘Think’ being the operative word here. As long as you think you have enough constitution to possibly see me naked in the light. There’s still that. And it troubles me. Big. I mean, moonlight can be a mighty powerful thing. What if some of it escapes through your fancy blinds and you happen to see what you’re contemplating, you know . . . uh, tapping. What if that very light does happen to escape through the blinds and you do see me naked and it totally squicks you out? That would be embarrassing for both parties concerned, don’t you think? Then things would be even more awkward than when we originally set out to, you know . . . If we planned to do it, then didn’t do it because you freaked out, think about how uncomfortable we’d be when we have to look at each other over a tray of marinating brisket. Oh, the horror—”

  Nikos’s silken lips quieted her, soothing her fears with their deliciousness.

  Clothes shifted, lifted, then fell to the floor in whispers of linen and popping buttons. Shoes were kicked off and landed with a heavy thud to an unknown destination. Now she wished she hadn’t wanted total darkness if only to see all of Nikos, naked, sculpted, hard. Her hands clung to his neck, longing to boldly run them over every plane of his body. Yet uncertainty warred with desire.

  Though, there was no wasting time for Nikos when he opened the clasp on the front of her bra, brushing the straps from her shoulders with skilled hands. Hands that were warm, firm, lightly callused from the physical labor he put in at the diner.

  Frankie shivered with anticipation when he ran his fingers between her breasts, skirting the globes of flesh, pressing his mouth to hers and sliding his tongue inside.

  Her legs trembled, turning to room-temperature butter from the heat of Nikos’s tongue, swirling to meet hers. The white-hot pleasure of his mouth encompassing hers was like nothing she’d ever experienced.

  Stabs of desire rose and fell in her belly, pricking nerves, making them aware of sensations she didn’t know existed until the touch of Nikos’s mouth on hers as his fingers traced the outline of her breast.

  His groan was deep, rumbling with approval, bringing a jolt of unexpected pleasure to her. When his thumb grazed her nipple, Frankie bucked beneath his hand, moving closer, seeking more of the crazy need he so easily evoked in her.

  Disappointment followed by sheer anticipation shivered over her exposed flesh when Nikos left her breasts to run his hands over her ass, plucking at the garters she wore. “I like,” he said with a husky silken tone, drawing her thigh up over his lean hip still clad in boxer briefs she now regretted not seeing.

  Frankie’s heart crashed against her chest in an almost painful agony of rhythm when Nikos artfully released the garters one at a time, letting them drop to her thighs and pull at her nylons.

  He cupped her ass, drawing her hard against him and releasing a hiss of approval when their flesh made full contact. Skin to skin, Frankie was almost dizzy from the combination of warm flesh and the rigid press of Nikos’s cock against her.

  She fought a sharp groan when he slid his fingers under the edge of her panty line, caressing the skin where her thigh met her most intimate place. Frankie’s head fell back on her shoulders as Nikos tugged her underwear off, following with his until they were both the naked she so feared.

  There was nothing between them but her thigh-high stockings with the sexy line up the back.

  More fear swept over her in waves of dizzy reminder.

  Nikos’s mouth sought hers again but not before he whispered, “Do you hear that?”

  Frustration made her question almost desperate. “What?”

  “Nothing. Absolutely not a sound, and you’re very definitely naked,” he pointed out, nipping at her bottom lip. “No gasps of horror. Definitely no screams of terror from any of my southern locales. In fact, you’re getting a resounding cheer of ‘more, more, more.’ You know what this means, don’t you, Bennett?”

  His voice slithered along every inch of her flesh in a blanket of smoky decadence. “What does this mean?”

  “It means you’re a total hottie,” he said before thwarting any more conversation by pulling her to his cushy bed with him.

  She lay on top of his solid weight, soaking in the sweetly sharp contact of their flesh in unison, reveling in doing nothing more than discovering one another.

  Fingers skimmed, soft moans filled the room, heated flesh shivered, giving way to the flex of muscles straining against one another.

  Nikos drew her hard against his cock, allowing her clit to experience the hot length of him. Crisp pubic ha
ir scraped her swollen flesh, leaving her needy and with an ache she didn’t care to find an explanation for.

  With two hands, Nikos lifted her to the top of the bed, setting her on plump pillows she sank into with a trembling sigh. Parting her thighs, he centered himself between them, running his hands along her hips, past her ribs, along her collarbone until he came to her hair, dragging his fingers through long strands of it. His wide chest whispered against her cheek, smooth and leaving her with a feeling of security.

  Lips pressed to hers in brief kisses, skirting along her jawline before stopping at her breasts.

  The sensation was so exquisite; Frankie bit her lip to quell her gasp of pleasure when he cupped them, kneading the globes of flesh. His mouth lowered until she felt his hot breath, hovering over her nipple. It was all she could do not to beg him to envelope it.

  When Nikos did, the world tilted upside down, only righting itself when she curled her fingers into his thick head of hair and arched her back to encourage the hot swirl of his tongue. His mouth moved over each nipple with sweetly flaming strokes as he reached between her thighs and dipped his fingers into her wet flesh.

  Frankie bucked beneath him, rising up to meet the exploration of his hand with a cry she couldn’t stop. Nikos’s thumb on her clit, swollen with need, rolled in lazy circles, waiting to discover which motion made her moan with the most pleasure, which turn of his finger made her tighten her grip on his hair.

  Dizzy, Frankie struggled to hold back the thrust of orgasm, but the need for sweet relief crashed hard against her will for restraint. The writhing of her hips refused to be thwarted as she pressed hard against his fingers, riding the crest of release.

  Her shoulders slumped as the breath in her lungs left in a whoosh of pleasures now met.

  Leaving her breasts, Nikos clearly wasn’t done. He ran his tongue in electrifying strokes over her ribs, along her belly until he came to the space between her thighs.

  The cool air of the room hit her exposed flesh with a scintillating tingle, leaving Frankie gasping for breath, still recovering from her orgasm.

  Hot and confident, Nikos took his first taste of her clit, teasing the bud with short, measured strokes, then laving her in long swipes of raspy tongue. His finger found its way to her slick passage, slipping inside her with ease, increasing the once more mounting need for release.

  Her groan of pleasure elicited a groan of approval from Nikos, heavy and thick with his ministrations. Frankie cried out when he hit her sweet spot, hooking his finger against it and bringing her to a height she’d never attained before.

  Her hands had a will of their own when they reached down, clutching his wrist with frantic fingers, fighting the swell of another climax in the hope of making it last.

  Yet, she couldn’t thwart the kind of intense pleasure he created with his tongue and finger. It rose and peaked, hot and so stingingly sharp, she came with a crash of her hips against the bed and spikes of decadently sinful liberation.

  There wasn’t enough air to satisfy her lungs when she attempted to force some into them. Her huffs resounded in the bedroom, clinging to her ears.

  Nikos crawled back along her body, moving upward to settle above her. He stroked her hair, trailing his fingers through it, soothing her until her raspy breaths became easy puffs. Cupping her chin, he brought her mouth to his, and Frankie, for the first time in her life, tasted herself on Nikos’s lips.

  Forbidden and intoxicating, she didn’t stop him when his tongue delved back into her mouth, licking, stroking, while his hands ran in tender impatience over her thighs and hips.

  Her heart stopped when she finally made contact with his cock. Her hands had a will of their own as curiosity got the better of her and she reached between them to take a tentative stroke of his rock-hard length. His hips shifted, straining against her hands, the cords of muscle in his back bunching with tension.

  Frankie wanted to touch every inch of his flesh, but his groans of pleasure, muted against her lips, were too inviting as she enveloped him between her hands. Thick and just long enough to make her sigh, his erection responded instantly to her touch, and she luxuriated in the pleasure Nikos appeared to derive.

  “Frankie, honey,” he husked against her lips.

  “Hm?” Her response was thick and sluggish.

  “Condom. Now,” he gritted out with a clenched jaw, fumbling in the dark for what she assumed was a nightstand.

  The sound of a drawer opening and closing broke her haze of desire for a moment until Nikos rose above her, the warmth of his body hovering over hers sending a shiver of longing from head to toe.

  In that fragile moment, while his arms bracketed her, while he was poised above her in the velvet cloak of darkness, Frankie understood what it was to feel cherished, treasured. It burrowed into her gut, threading its way to her heart. A heart she thought would always be at odds with even the idea of another man in her life.

  The simple purity of that thought made her burrow beneath Nikos, pulling him to her to mold their flesh together. His groan, muffled against her lips, spurred her on, making her wrap her thighs around his lean hips and encourage him to enter her.

  The thrust of Nikos’s cock was swift, a silken glide of white-hot heat, driving into her and stealing her breath. Her chest expanded, crashing against his with the sweet sting of impact. Her nipples tightened to hard points, rubbing against his hairless chest as he took stroke after masterful stroke.

  Frankie’s arms tightened over the solid planes of his back, her fingers kneading his well-muscled flesh while she clenched her teeth at the delicious stretch and tightening of her aching body.

  Nikos ground against her, pushing forward, then holding back, thrusting, retreating until the need for another round of completion tore at her. Frankie tightened her legs, hooking her ankles against his lower back until the slap of their flesh became hypnotic.

  The noticeable tension in his strained muscles, the hiss of his breath brought with it her own mounting climax, so intense, it bordered sweet agony.

  With her head buried in his tightly corded neck, the scent of his mouthwatering cologne in her nose, Frankie came again, with a flaming streak of electricity She reared upward, clinging to Nikos, the sweat of their bodies gluing them together.

  He threw his head back with a growl, rocking into her, driving against her with a force that left them both haphazardly strewn across the bed until they both became boneless heaps.

  Nikos was the first to raise his head, his pants for breath easing. He cupped the side of her face, running his thumb over her lips. “So, have we dispelled all the fears about the naked and the sex not being all we cracked it up to be?”

  Her smile was genuine, topped with the bliss of completion she still couldn’t wrap her head around. Sex with Mitch had been good, even satisfying, but it wasn’t electric blue with streaks of purple. And it never entailed more than one orgasm. “You’re not considering turning on those lights, are you? I won’t have it, pal. My hair’s an entity all unto itself after all that sheet wrecking.”

  Gathering her in his arms with a chuckle, he slipped from inside her but held her close. “Your hair’s pretty sexy. I’d really like to see it in all its afterglow glory.”

  “You’re a masochist.”

  The shrill ring of the phone stilled any reply Nikos might have readied. Frankie stiffened. “Oh, boy. I’d bet we’ve been gone a long time. Jasmine’s probably looking for me because she’s my ride, and your family’s bound to be wondering where you are. We’re in deep doo-doo if they come looking.”

  Nikos laughed, dragging a blanket over her. “Cover up so I won’t burn my retinas when I turn on the lights. I can’t find a phone I can’t see.”

  She giggled, hearing the teasing quality to his tone, burying herself under the warm comforter, grateful now that her body had returned to room temperature.

  Much stumbling and a choice word or two was had while Nikos found the bedside lamp and lunged for the phone. “Hello
?”

  From beneath the cover of blankets that smelled like Nikos, Frankie peered at him in all his buff gorgeousness. Oh. God. For as long as this lasted, he was never allowed to see her naked. There was no measuring up to such incredible, well-preserved perfection. Every lean, olive-skinned, sharply planed inch of his, right down to the smooth skin between his pecs, was glorious. His hair was mussed, his cheeks flushed but not in an unattractive way. Instead, their lovemaking had left him more fabulous than he was before.

  The frown marring his forehead sounded out an internal alarm. “Yep. I’ll tell her.” Nikos hung up the phone after his curt parting words.

  Her concern mounted. “What happened? Is Jasmine looking for me? Oh no. Did something happen to Aunt Gail?”

  Nikos sat at the edge of the bed, so evidently unashamed of his nudity, his face unreadable, but his eyes scanned hers with a hawklike gaze. “You got an urgent phone call.”

  “From?” she prompted, sitting up.

  His eyes sharpened to two onyx points of discontent. “Your ex-husband.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  From the journal of ex-trophy wife Frankie Bennett, aka Wannabe Vixen: I swear on my life I will, as long as I live, never, ever let Jasmine Archway talk me into wearing false eyelashes again. Oh, and I’m actually going to follow more of Maxine’s advice about your first postdivorce relationship. Lay out the rules for your relationship requirements from the beginning and make them crystal clear. Do not be charmed into bending them even a little by the wiles of a man who’s to-die-for delish. Because I don’t give a hot Greek and some meatloaf with gravy how winningly Nikos Antonakas smiles at me—I’m not budging. Go. Me.

  “Hah! Everything with Mitch is urgent. He probably just lost his garlic press.” Frankie’s eyes narrowed. What was up with Mitch these days? He hadn’t spent this much time with her in all of their marriage. Suddenly she was on his most-wanted list? Twice in the matter of a few days after seven solid months of total silence while he cranked out his angst, looking for the Fountain of Youth in Bamby’s girlie bits, just wasn’t acceptable.