“I’m just surprised, that’s all,” Lexi finally said. “I assumed that someone else had purchased the property and you were just the carpenter.” She winced. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Obviously you’re more than just a carpenter—you’re an artist. The way that I’m an artist. We just work with different mediums.”
Nikos grunted and took a forkful of salad, but he barely tasted the shrimp and pasta. He told himself that he wouldn’t read too much into her reaction. She’d jumped to the same conclusion about him that dozens of other people before her had. He should be used to it by now. When she reached across the table and covered her hand with his, he went still. Looking up, he saw the distress in her dark eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve offended you, and I didn’t mean to. Try to understand. The first time I saw you, you were swinging a hammer. You drive a pickup truck. You wear paint-covered jeans and a baseball cap.” She gave him a smile. “Call me narrow-minded, but you don’t exactly fit the stereotype of a wealthy home owner.”
Nikos sighed and squeezed her fingers. “I’m not offended. And I haven’t always had the means to purchase and restore properties like this one. But that’s a story for another day.” He raised his glass and forced a smile. “Here’s a toast to being…neighborly.”
Lexi took a sip of the chilled wine, but Nikos could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. She wanted to know what he had done before he came to California, but he wasn’t interested in talking about his past. At least not tonight. Maybe one day, but not now. He was grateful that his modeling career had provided him with the means to come to California and start a new life, but when he thought about what he had sacrificed, he wondered if it had been worth it. The day his father had put him on that plane to London, he’d lost everything that had been important to him—his home, his family, his friends, and whatever had remained of his childhood.
Finding Lexi Adams had been an unexpected surprise. She didn’t seem interested in acquiring the material things that other women craved. Granted, she had slept with him based solely on her physical attraction to him, without knowing the first thing about him, but he was guilty of the same thing. He found himself thinking about Lexi when they weren’t together, though. He didn’t care what her motives were for sleeping with him; for the first time since he left Syros, he felt happy. Really, truly happy.
He watched as she took a forkful of the shrimp and pasta and then closed her eyes in sublime satisfaction. “Oh, this is delicious,” she said, looking at him. “I can’t believe you made it.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it. And the wine is perfect.” She took a sip and then paused, looking at him. “How did you know that I would come over here tonight?”
“I didn’t, but I hoped you would,” he admitted.
Which was an understatement.
As soon as he’d left her house that morning, he’d driven straight to his home on Cliff Drive and loaded some items into the bed of his pickup truck, including a box of dishes and cooking utensils, his toiletries and several changes of clothes, a mattress and some bedding. If his cousins thought it unusual that he’d decided to move into the house, they hadn’t said anything. He wasn’t sure he’d even be able to explain his reasons; he just knew that he needed to be near Lexi, and there was no way he was going to drive to his beachfront home each night, not when she was in the house next door.
“I’m glad I did,” she said simply.
Nikos watched as she ate her salad. Outside, the sun was dropping behind the horizon and the flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over her skin. She looked incredibly sexy in his silk robe, with her damp hair in tendrils around her face. He wondered if she wore anything beneath the silk, or if she was nude. Just the thought of her smooth, bare skin caused his body to harden, and he shifted uncomfortably.
She pushed her salad around and gave him a cautious look. “So I’m curious…what did you do before you came to the States? You said you left Syros when you were fourteen. Where were you between then, and when you came to California?”
Nikos hesitated and swirled his drink, considering his words. “I lived in London,” he finally said. He didn’t like to talk about those years, or his own feelings of abandonment. Realistically, he knew his parents had wanted him to go to London because there were more opportunities there than on the island of Syros, but he still harbored feelings of resentment that they had sent him away when he hadn’t wanted to leave.
“Did your family move there?”
“No. Just me. I, um, studied there.”
“Oh. That explains it.”
Nikos sharpened his attention on her. “Explains what?”
“Your accent. Sometimes it has an almost British ring to it.”
Nikos relaxed fractionally. He didn’t want to talk about those days. When people discovered he had been a top model, they invariably looked at him differently. Many did an internet search of his name and were shocked by what they saw. For himself, he never looked at those ads and he kept no reminders of that time, with the possible exception of his comfortable bank account. He preferred to market himself as a master carpenter and a restoration specialist for historic homes.
Turn-of-the-century arts-and-crafts-style bungalows were his specialty, and there was no shortage of them in Santa Barbara. Soon, he’d established a reputation, and now he found he could pick and choose his jobs. It was a good place to be. He no longer identified with the idealistic, naive young man who had walked the catwalks of London, Paris and Milan, and had starred in provocative advertising campaigns with some of the most stunning women in the world. Those experiences belonged to another person, in another lifetime. Given a choice, he’d much rather be here with Lexi. With her damp hair and freshly scrubbed face, she was a thousand times more attractive to him than the supermodels he had once worked with.
He indicated her half-eaten salad. “Are you finished? You didn’t have much.”
She looked at him, amused. “You didn’t eat at all.”
Pushing his salad aside, he leaned forward and laced his fingers with hers on the tabletop. “I’m not hungry. At least, not for food.”
Before she could respond, he released her hand and stood up to carry their dishes through the house and into the kitchen. With the sun setting, the house was dim and cool with deepening shadows, and Nikos didn’t bother to switch on any of the overhead lights. “It’s a beautiful night. Why don’t I grab a blanket, and we can go outside and enjoy the view.”
He stacked the bowls on the counter, but didn’t hear her follow him on bare feet. He didn’t know she was there until she slid her arms around him, pressing herself against his back and splaying her hands over his chest and stomach.
“At the risk of sounding rude, I’m not interested in going outside,” she said softly. “Not when the view in here is so much better.”
Her hands stroked over his torso, and Nikos barely suppressed a groan at the sensation of her warm palms through the thin cotton of his shirt. He turned around and leaned against the counter. She tipped her head back to look at him, her eyes filled with suggestion. Her hair was drying in soft waves around her shoulders and her skin had a faint flush of color.
“What did you have in mind?”
Lexi smiled and slid her hands beneath the hem of his shirt. Her fingers stroked over his skin, and suddenly the room felt overly warm.
“I was thinking of dessert, actually,” she said, pushing the fabric upward. She leaned forward and pressed warm, moist lips to the center of his chest, before licking him lightly. “Mmm. Delicious.”
Framing her face in his hands, Nikos studied her. Her mouth was lush and pliant, and with a soft groan, he bent and covered it with his own. She responded instantly, pressing herself against him and sliding her hands to his back and then lower to cup his butt and urge him closer. He broke free just long enough to drag his shirt over his head and drop it onto the floor before Lexi pushed him back against the
counter and resumed her sensual assault.
“You taste so good,” she breathed, dragging her mouth along the length of his neck and collarbone.
Nikos sucked in air and tried to focus, but it was impossible with her hands and mouth on him. He’d spent most of the day thinking about her and replaying their night together. Then, during dinner, he’d found himself fantasizing about what she might—or might not—be wearing beneath his bathrobe. But when her fingers went to the button on his waistband, a small vestige of sanity resurfaced and he caught her wrists.
“Do you really want to do this here?” he asked, his voice rough with arousal.
But Lexi merely smiled. “Oh, yeah. I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
Keeping her eyes on his face, she unfastened the button on his jeans and slowly drew the zipper down. Her eyes grew heated as she slipped her hand inside and cupped his rigid length. Her breath slipped out on a soft sigh of appreciation as she stroked him.
Nikos gripped the edge of the counter and watched as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and slowly pushed them down over his thighs. His erection stood out stiffly from his body, and when Lexi dropped to her knees in front of him and curled her hands around his length, he thought he would lose it right then and there.
“Lexi,” he groaned. “Maybe we should take this somewhere more private.”
In answer, she looked up at him briefly before returning her attention to his twitching cock. “Why? It’s just the two of us. Nobody can see.”
Before he had time to think of a reason why they shouldn’t do this, she drew her tongue along his length. A shudder went through him, and then he ceased to think altogether.
Lexi rocked back on her heels and her gaze traveled over him. Nikos could see the feminine appreciation in her eyes and felt himself grow even harder. He gripped the counter and struggled for control.
“You are so beautiful,” Lexi whispered, and leaned forward to take him in her mouth. He groaned deeply as she suckled him, running her tongue around the corona and then drawing on him like a Popsicle. Her mouth was hot and slick, and when she wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft and squeezed, he thought he would come undone. With her free hand, she stroked his bare thigh before cupping his balls and rolling them gently in her palm. Nikos gave a deep sigh of pleasure and released the counter to bury his hands in her hair. His fingertips traced the contours of her ears and jaw as she drew on him. Finally, when he could stand no more, he told her to stop, but she didn’t reply. He was only vaguely aware that he’d reverted to his native Greek. He gripped her by the upper arms and hauled her to her feet.
“If you don’t stop,” he rasped in English, “I am not going to last.”
“I don’t want you to—” She didn’t get to finish her sentence as Nikos grabbed her face and kissed her hard and deep, spearing his tongue against hers and feasting on her mouth. Without breaking the kiss, he slid his hands down the length of her back and cupped her buttocks in his hands, lifting her against him. Lexi moaned her approval and wound her arms around his neck as he turned and set her down on the edge of the kitchen counter, shoving dishes aside in his haste.
“Oh, thank Christ,” he breathed as he opened the front of her robe. She was nude beneath the silk, as he’d wanted her to be. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly with her agitated breathing, and her nipples were erect, begging for his touch. “You are naked.”
“I was hoping you’d notice,” Lexi said coyly, slanting him a provocative smile, and then gasped as he cupped both breasts in his hands and leaned forward to press his mouth against the side of her neck. She speared her fingers through his hair as he lowered his head to one breast and drew a nipple into his mouth. He laved her with his tongue, flicking the distended tip until she arched against him and gripped his hips with her thighs. But when he eased a hand between their bodies and stroked her intimately, Lexi mewled with pleasure and widened her legs to give him better access.
“You’re so ready for me,” he groaned, swirling a finger through her dampness.
“I want you inside me,” she said breathlessly. “Now.”
Without answering, Nikos bent down and fumbled through his jean pockets for his wallet. Pulling it out, he withdrew two condoms. “I picked some up this morning, just in case.”
“Smart man,” Lexi said. “Here, let me.”
Opening one of the foil packets, she covered him quickly with hands that trembled. Nikos pulled her to the edge of the counter, and she moaned softly as he pressed himself against the most intimate part of her and then, sweet, blessed Mary, he was pushing himself into her welcoming moistness.
She gasped and hooked her heels around his thighs as she met the thrusts of his tongue against hers with equal urgency. God, she felt incredible, all slick heat and pulsating tightness. He grasped her hips in his hands and thrust himself into her, knowing he wasn’t being gentle, but beyond the point where he could restrain himself. She welcomed him just as fiercely, gripping his hips tightly with her thighs and using her heels to urge him deeper. Her fingers tunneled through his hair and she moaned into his mouth, making small sounds of pleasure and rising need.
He dragged his mouth from hers. “I want to see you,” he growled, and lowered his forehead to hers, watching himself surge into her. Her nipples were tightly erect, straining toward him. With a groan, he drew one into his mouth, suckling her hard. She cried out and arched her back, and he felt her tightening around him, gripping and squeezing him until, with a harsh cry, he climaxed in a powerful surge of exquisite pleasure.
For several long moments, there was only the sound of their harsh breathing. Nikos knew he should pull away, but his body wouldn’t obey. For the first time since he’d left the island of Syros, he felt as if he’d finally come home.
8
SEX. SCULPTURE. NIKOS.
Over the course of three weeks, Lexi’s world had been reduced to these three realities, and they blurred into each other so that she was no longer certain where one began and the other ended. One thing was certain: she’d become an addict. When she wasn’t actually having sex with Nikos, she was consumed with thoughts of having sex with him. Even the time spent in her studio, away from him, didn’t provide a reprieve since she was essentially sculpting Nikos, which only led to more thoughts of sex with him.
Somehow, Lexi managed to get herself to her studio and put in ten to twelve hours of solid work each day. By rights, she should be exhausted, and while there were times when she got home and fell into bed, it definitely wasn’t so that she could sleep. Essentially, when she wasn’t working, she was having sex with Nikos.
She didn’t want to think too much about what she was doing, or what she was getting herself involved in. She wasn’t sure she could explain it, even to herself. She and Nikos had never gone out in public, and she hadn’t told anyone about him. They were lovers, certainly, and she hoped they were also friends. But she hesitated to think they were anything more than that. She told herself it was for the best, since Nikos had already informed her of his plan to sell the house once he completed the renovations. Beyond that, they hadn’t talked about their future, but Lexi had no illusions that once his work was finished, he would stick around.
Her own work was progressing quickly. She had finished the head and face and sometimes she found herself just sitting, staring at what she’d created. The resemblance to Nikos was uncanny, and she’d exceeded her own expectations in capturing his likeness. She’d also completed most of his torso, and had begun defining his taut, muscular butt and manly parts. Maybe that was the reason she arrived home each night with sex on her mind.
She’d fallen into a habit of grabbing a quick shower before walking next door to see what transformation Nikos had accomplished in the house that day. Sometimes they would make love right away, urgently, as if they didn’t have all night to enjoy each other. Other times, they would prepare a light dinner, either at his house or hers, before going upstairs to her bedroom.
Lexi had never slept in Nikos’s house. No matter how late she stayed, he always walked her home and then spent the night in her bed.
Lexi knew she was treading dangerous waters; she was at serious risk of falling for Nikos. The worst part was that she actually looked for flaws, but could find nothing. The guy was pretty damn close to perfect—not only gorgeous, but great in bed. She loved spending time with him. He had a wry sense of humor that appealed to her, and he could talk knowledgeably about any number of topics. He was hardworking and financially independent, and he seemed genuinely into her. So why did she feel as if she was always waiting for the other shoe to drop? She tried to keep an open mind about Nikos, but there was a little voice in the back of her head warning her not to get too attached. She’d only end up disappointed.
The days passed swiftly for Lexi, as if in a dream. Her entire world had become this man and her sculpture. Each night, Lexi would focus on one particular part of Nikos’s body, memorizing the shape and texture of a limb, the sleekness and strength of a particular muscle, the thrust of his shoulders. The next morning, in her studio, she would draw on those sensual memories to slowly chip away at the sculpture and draw forth the strength and beauty of Apollo.
On the third weekend, they both took a break from work to spend the day together. They made leisurely love before Nikos went downstairs to make coffee. Wearing a robe over a pair of flannel shorts and a camisole, Lexi joined him in the sunroom. He’d found a soft-jazz station on the radio, and a tray of breakfast pastries stood on the coffee table alongside two steaming mugs.
“Mmm, this is nice,” she commented, but her eyes were on Nikos, who lounged on the big sofa with his legs stretched out in front of him. He wore a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, and his bare skin gleamed warm and brown in the sunlight that slanted through the big windows.
Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume IX: The EqualizerGod's Gift to Women Page 15