Mike rolled over and glanced at the clock on the nightstand, its green digital numbers staring back at her, bright and bold in accusation.
11:12
She rolled back over with a sigh and kicked at the covers tangling her feet. It was Saturday night, she didn’t have to work the next day and what was she doing?
Lying in bed. Trying to sleep.
And not having any luck.
With another heavy sigh, she kicked at the covers once more then pushed herself out of bed, reaching over to turn on the small lamp as she did. Soft light filled the room, just enough to banish the shadows to the corners.
She ignored the chill of the floor against her feet and shuffled over to the bookcase, picking a title at random, not caring what book she chose, as long as it was something to grab her attention. And since every title on this shelf was considered a ‘keeper’, she was pretty sure it would. At least, she hoped it would.
She sat down in the reading chair, curling her legs under her and shifting until finding the perfect position. She opened the cover of the book and flipped to the first page, hoping to get drawn into the story, hoping to stop the wayward thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her.
A full thirty minutes passed before Mike realized she was still on page one, her eyes drifting over the words without seeing them. She sighed and tossed the book aside then pulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees.
Sleep was out of the question. Reading was out of the question.
Because she was thinking too much to focus on either one.
With another sigh, she pushed herself from the chair and made her way downstairs, not bothering with any lights until she reached the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator, thinking that maybe a beer might help her sleep.
Except she didn’t have any beer, because she had thrown it all out. Just like she didn’t have any whiskey or brandy in the house. Not even wine.
Because of Nick and that damned condition of his.
Muttering under her breath, she reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water then angrily twisted off the cap. Damn Nick anyway. Who did he think he was, with his stupid conditions?
But that had been more than two weeks ago, and she had stuck by them. She was afraid to admit that it had been harder than she thought it would be, something she hadn’t expected.
And she certainly hadn’t expected that she would have lived up to those conditions, at least not in the privacy of her own home. She still wasn’t sure why she had.
Take that back. No, she was.
Because she had said she would.
Because she wanted to prove, at least to herself, that she could.
She took a long swallow of water, recapped the bottle, then walked into the living room and sat on the sofa. She leaned back and stretched her legs out, staring up at the ceiling.
It was a Saturday night, and she had opted to stay home. Again.
Everyone from work had been surprised when she said she wasn’t joining them at Duffy’s last night. To be honest, she had kind of surprised herself. But she didn’t want to go, afraid she’d give into the temptation and have a drink.
Or worse, give into the temptation of Nick.
Nick’s announcement that the next presentation would be the last had surprised her. Not because there wouldn’t be moreâit actually made sense to do one big presentation instead of a bunch of small ones. No, what surprised her was the brief flare of disappointment that cut through her at his words, and she had to wonder why.
She gave a small laugh, the sound almost sad in the empty room around her. She didn’t have to wonder why, she already knew, and part of her was loathe to admit it.
She was going to miss the informal meetings, the routine sparring and even clashing of heads and ideas that had accompanied each meeting.
She was going to miss Nick.
And that’s what confused her the most. How could she miss him, when they had resolved absolutely nothing? Yeah, they had talkedâbut mostly in circles, skating near the edge of things that had to be said without really ever discussing them. The closest they had come had been the other night, when she had come downstairs and confessed just a small part of her confusion.
But they still hadn’t discussed anything, not really.
And Mike still wasn’t sure if she had forgiven him, if she even could forgive him. But would she have really slept with him if she hadn’t?
That wasn’t something she wanted to examine too closely, at least not tonight.
She pushed herself off the sofa with a sigh and walked back to the kitchen to turn off the light, figuring it would be best to go back to bed. She wasn’t foolish enough to think sleep would come any easier now than it had an hour ago, but at least she would be more comfortable upstairs than down here.
Her foot was on the bottom step when a soft knock sounded at the front door. Mike paused, wondering if she was hearing things, then wondering who would be knocking on her door at this time of night when she heard it again.
She walked over to the door and unlocked it, then stepped back in surprise. Nick was standing in front of her, his face covered in the shadows of night. He moved just an inch, as if he had been ready to step inside, then stopped.
She stared at him, not saying anything, wondering if maybe she was imagining things, that her earlier thoughts had somehow conjured him in her mind.
“Hey.” His voice was quiet, pitched low in the night surrounding him, and Mike realized that she wasn’t imagining anything. Nick really was standing in front of her. He was dressed in faded denim jeans and his leather jacket, looking every inch the rebel she remembered from her youth.
Only he wasn’t, not anymore.
Mike blinked her eyes and stepped back, silently inviting him inside before thinking better of it. “Nick, what are you doing here?”
He gave her a half smile, one corner of his mouth lifting oh so briefly as he walked past her. She closed the door against the cold night air and turned, only to have Nick pull her roughly against him, his mouth descending on hers before she could react.
Surprise froze her in place, but for only a second before her body reacted to his. Her hands came up to his chest, but instead of pushing him away, her fingers curled against the thermal weave of his shirt, her knuckles grazing the bare skin at the opening of the collar. A soft sigh escaped her, immediately lost in the warmth of his breath as his tongue swept into her mouth and pushed all thought from her mind.
Time lost all meaning as the heat of his body warmed her. He turned and pinned her to the door, his body flush against hers so she could feel his erection against her stomach. She sighed again, her hips thrusting against him, searching, as he pulled his mouth from hers and dragged it down her neck, then back up before stopping to nibble at the sensitive lobe of her ear.
“Do you want me to leave?”
She heard the words through the heated fog of passion but had trouble understanding them. Leave? No, not when he made her feel like this. She shook her head, unable to speak as his tongue teased the soft spot behind her ear.
“Tell me, Kayla. Tell me you want me to leave.”
“What? No. No, I…” Her words drifted off, her mind trying desperately to understand what Nick was saying, what he was asking from her. She shook her head again and pushed against him, just enough so he would leave her ear and neck alone long enough for sanity to return.
“Nick, what are you doing here?” Her voice was a ragged whisper in the semi-darkness. She looked up at him, trying to gauge his reaction, but the shadows danced across his face, hiding his expression.
But they couldn’t hide the burning she saw so clearly in the depths of his eyes. Nick blinked then lowered his face until his forehead rested against hers. His arms tightened around her, holding her more firmly against him.
“Nick, is something wrong?”
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his dark eyes intense. He slowly shook his head. “No. I just needed to
see you. Do you want me to leave?”
His words, along with the intensity in his gaze, had an odd effect on Mike, stealing her voice and creating a whirlwind in her mind. She must have been quiet for too long though, because Nick eased his hold on her and started to pull away. The small movement sent a panic through her, a panic she didn’t understand and didn’t stop to question. She lifted her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, closer until her mouth met his.
Nick held himself still for a brief second but before she could question his hesitation, heat exploded between them. He quickly became the aggressor, taking control of the kiss and demanding her mouth open for him. His tongue swept in, invading, conquering even though she eagerlyâwillinglyâsurrendered to each thrust.
She ran her hands around his neck and down, pushing the jacket off his arms before reaching for the button on his jeans. Minutes dissolved as quickly as the barrier of clothing between them.
Nick’s touch became more frantic, mirroring her own desperation. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her, pinning her against the door, holding her in place with one arm while his free hand skimmed her body.
His fingers teased her nipple, pinching and squeezing before moving lower. He stroked the sensitive flesh between her legs, over and over, hard, demanding. Her insides tightened and she thrust her hips forward, needing more, so much more.
“Nick, please.”
His mouth closed over hers and she could feel him smiling, felt her own smile in response as he shifted and drove into her with one long thrust.
Her head fell back on a low moan, all sensation, all thought, centered on him. He pulled out, slowly, then drove home again. And again, harder.
And yet again.
Mike cried out his name and shattered, her body exploding into a million fragments. But Nick didn’t stop.
He thrust into her, harder, faster.
His breathing harsh, his hold unforgiving.
His body demanding.
Another climax rocked her, long and savage as she clung to him, saying his name over and over, whether in demand or in surrender she didn’t know. Didnât care.
His hips thrust once more, grinding into her, holding her in place as his body stiffened. Nick threw his head back, her name a low groan falling from his lips as he found his own release inside her, filling her.
Minutes went by, maybe more, before Mike slowly became aware of her surroundings.
The darkness of the living room, broken only by the light escaping from upstairs.
The quiet hum of the refrigerator, broken by the sudden drop of a cube from the ice maker.
The slight chill against her back from the door closed against the night behind them.
The intensity in Nick’s dark eyes as he studied her, reading into her very soul.
“I love you, Kayla.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Nick sat at his desk, holding his head in his hands as he stared at absolutely nothing. Not the reports scattered in front of him, not the ring of condensation forming under his water bottle, not the scratched surface marred from years of use.
He only wished his mind was as unseeing as his eyes as he questioned, for about the millionth time, the wisdom of the last time he had seen Kayla.
He let out a deep sigh and ran his hands down his face. Even that wasn’t enough to erase the memory of the look on Kayla’s face when he had stupidly told her he loved her. Surprise. Disbelief.
Horror.
What the hell had he been thinking?
Well, he hadn’t been. That was the problem.
He still didn’t know what had possessed him to go over to her house that night. And not just go over. No, he had sat outside for over an hour, feeling like a stalker as he debated the wisdom of knocking on her door, arguing with himself over the pros and cons.
When the kitchen light had come on, he had taken it as a sign. She was awake, maybe she wouldn’t mind some company. At least, that was what he tried telling himself.
He still didn’t know why he had gone over there, but it sure as hell hadn’t been to take her right there, right up against her front door, minutes after she let him. That hadn’t been his intention. He hadn’t even remotely considered the possibility of making love to her when he had gone over there.
But he had.
She hadn’t stopped him, hadn’t asked him to leave. Hadn’t pushed him away. And then she exploded around him and screamed his name, her voice as flush and heated as her body.
He shook his head at the image, trying to banish it from his mind, but it was too late. His body was already reacting to the memory. Nick shifted in the hard chair and reached for the water bottle, not knowing if it would be better to take a long swallow or spill it in his lap.
No, he hadn’t planned on taking her against the door like that, but he didn’t regret it. He would never regret a single second, no matter how fleeting, he shared with Kayla.
His regret was not keeping his mouth shut afterwards.
He closed his eyes and sighed at the memory of Kayla’s face. Her eyes widened, a look of horror banishing the warm flush on her skin, leaving it pale. Her mouth snapped closed and he saw the panic overtake her, knew it was happening probably before she even did. Her body stiffened against his as she dropped her legs from their hold around his waist and pushed against him. For a second he had thought he could just hold onto her, apologize and pretend she misunderstood.
But he couldn’t. She didn’t misunderstand, and he wouldn’t take it back. He wouldn’t lie to her, and he was through lying to himself.
He loved her. Looking back, he doubted if he had ever stopped.
So no, he wasn’t going to lie, not to either one of them. But Kayla didn’t want to hear it, that much was obvious. She pushed against him again and stepped away, quickly grabbing her oversize night shirt and pulling it over head. She had remained silent, just watching as he quickly pulled on his own clothes, her mouth a grim line, her arms crossed tightly in front of her.
He didn’t need to be fluent in body language to understand what she was trying to say. And yet he still tried talking to her, thought that maybe they could sit down and try to talk things through.
That was when she had asked him to leave, that look of panic-stricken horror still clear in her eyes.
He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since.
And now it was time for the big presentation and once again he questioned the wisdom of what he was about to do. He didn’t need a shrink to analyze his intentionsâhe was more than qualified to self-analyze on this one.
And yet he still doubted himself, knowing that a million and one things could go wrongâand only one thing could go right. He had weighed the pros and cons, approached the idea with intelligence and yes, even hope. He wasn’t stupidâfar from it.
It all came down to whether or not he thought the payout was worth the risk. Just over three months had gone by, more than enough time for him to realize what he wanted. And more than enough time for him to realize that he was, quite possibly, playing a losing game.
It didn’t matter. The payout was worth the risk. He didn’t even have to stop to think about that part.
He rubbed his hands over his face once more then looked down at the stack of pictures in front of him. Graphic, brutal. He had once told Kayla he didn’t want to use them because they were too graphic, too brutal. Stark in their realism. His excuse had been that they were too inappropriate for the students.
But he could be honest enough with himself now to recognize that for the lie it was. They were too graphic for him. The memories they brought back were still too raw, even after all this time.
He was through lying to himself.
Nick pushed himself out of the chair and grabbed the photos before walking out of the room. He was ready for the truth.
He only hoped Kayla was there so he could share it with her.
***
“You’re all set. Is there anything else yo
u need?”
Jay stopped playing with the projector and turned to look at her, his nervousness etched on his face. He cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to offer her a small smile. Mike looked at him, one brow raised in question. She didn’t understand why he was so nervous.
“You’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
“Yeah, I know.” He wiped his hand down his pants leg and glanced around the stage again. Mike followed his gaze and had to admit that she was impressed with what he had accomplished.
The twisted wreckage of what had once been a compact car sat off to one side, the harsh stage lights reflecting off the torn metal. The windshield, shattered and twisted, rested haphazardly on what used to be the hood of the car. Clumps of bloodied hair stuck in one crack of the windshield, framed by a splattering of even more blood. A body hung halfway out of the car, its face unrecognizable, a pool of blood congealed on the floor under it.
It was all staged, of course. The car was nothing more than a prop, easily carried in pieces and quickly reassembled to resemble the realistic remains of a bad accident. The blood was nothing more than a hardened gel, easily removed by peeling it off the floor like a strip of plastic. The body was merely the top half of an old mannequin, one who had definitely seen better days. Kayla walked over and adjusted the dummy’s position just a bit, then stood back and studied the wreck.
“Poor Annie has definitely seen better days,” she mumbled before turning back to Jay. He was looking at the wreck, a frown creasing his forehead. He raised one hand and motioned behind him. Stage lights winked off, plunging the corner in darkness and effectively limiting view of the wreck.
Mike walked to the side of the stage and quickly descended the steps to stand next to Jay. He still looked worried, so she reached out and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Relax, this’ll be fine.”
“Yeah.” He let out a deep breath and looked around him. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Stop worrying, okay? You got the principal’s permission, so it’s not like you’re going to be sent to the office.” Mike walked over and grabbed her jacket from the front row seat then shrugged into it. She had expected at least a small smile at her joke. Instead, Jay fixed her with a look of panic in his eyes.
Once Burned (Firehouse Fourteen Book 1) Page 20