“It was bad. I broke the law, something I’d vowed to protect.” He quirked a brow at her. “What did you expect? That I'd murdered someone?”
She flinched, then looked away. Nick saw too much, and if he looked too deeply into her, she wasn’t sure he’d like what he saw. “Nothing would surprise me these days.”
He leaned toward her, bringing his face—his mouth—only a few inches from her own. “There's something I need to tell you.”
“What's that?” she asked. Had that sounded breathless? She was pretty sure that it had come out breathless.
“I really admire you. And no matter how this works out, I wanted you to know that.”
She almost asked what he meant by how it worked out—what was it, exactly. But of course, he meant his case. Of course, he meant finding Darrell. What else could he mean?
Then his words sunk in, and she jerked back a couple of inches, surprised. “Why in the world would you admire me?”
He leaned back in his chair too, and she found herself wanting to reach for him. Keep him close. “The way that you grew up—most people with a background like yours don't dream of better things. Definitely, don't pursue them. What you've done with your life is admirable. It took courage.”
Heat rushed up her neck to cover her face. She knew she was blushing. “I haven't accomplished anything yet.”
“That's bullshit, and you know it. You felt it. At the party with your friends. Hell, you probably felt that the second we walked back into your neighborhood.”
There didn't seem to be anyway to respond to that, not that she could think of anyway. Anxious to change the subject, she asked, “Be straight with me, would you? What are our chances of actually getting Darrell?”
His face closed off a bit as he thought about her question. Business face. “Good. It might just take longer than I'd hoped.”
She swallowed, wishing she had something to drink. Her mouth was so dry. “And what if I'm of no help to you?”
He didn't hesitate. “Deal’s a deal. I get him, you get paid. Whether you’re directly responsible for it or not.” Finally, a hesitation. “Frankly, at this point I’d really rather you not be directly involved.”
If she'd had hackles, they would've risen. “Why not? Am I really doing that badly at this?”
He reached for her hands and took them in his own, and she was too startled to consider pulling away. His palms were rough against her soft skin, but warm and gentle.
“That's not it. Hell, you're good at this. Almost too good.” He gave her a small smile that she barely danced up from their joined hands in time to see before disappeared. “I don't want you involved because I find myself giving a shit whether you live or die. More than I should. The way I stormed into the store today — that was unprofessional. And it proves my point.”
In her chest, her heart fluttered madly at the implication. “What do you mean by that?”
He squeezed her hands. “I care about you, Sophia. A hell of a lot more than I should.” A noise of frustration came from his lips. “If my business weren't on the line for this, we would be packing right now so I could take you somewhere else, somewhere safe. Hell,” his sardonic smile reappeared, “maybe somewhere tropical.”
The world dropped from between beneath her feet. Flabbergasted, she asked, “You care about me?”
“Yes, I do. Worse, I think you care about me, too.” His smile didn't drop away, but it became more tentative. There was something else in his eyes—hope.
A rush of feelings and thoughts slid through her. The way the whole world seemed to stop every time he entered a room or entered her mind. The memory of their shared kiss. God, that kiss. Her body flushed with heat at just the memory. But it was more than lust. He'd made her feel safe in a way that she couldn't remember feeling before.
Part of her wanted to deny it. That would be safer, more practical. What kind of future could she have with this man anyway? But she couldn't leave him out there, on the limb he'd stepped onto just for her.
“I guess you could say that,” she finally admitted.
Without saying another word, he leaned in, as if to kiss her. Moving deliberately—slow enough that she could pull away if she wanted.
But she didn’t move an inch.
Only a hairsbreadth away from her lips, he stilled. Waiting for her to take the last step. Her mind jangled with thoughts. What-ifs. Fears.
What if he’s like all the rest?
But he wasn’t. She knew that. There were few things in this life that offered any certainty, but she was certain of that much.
Silencing her wayward thoughts, she leaned in and touched her lips to his. Soft, his lips pressed against hers. A perfect fit.
Once she'd made the first step, it was like she'd released him to do his worst. He took control of the kiss, licking and nipping and making her mouth his. Her legs quivered, and she felt herself growing immediately wet.
She returned his kiss with a fervor she’d only seen in herself the last time Nick had kissed her. Ravenous for him, she couldn’t get enough of his mouth, his tongue.
A groan escaped him, and he pulled her out of her seat and onto his lap.
They kissed and nibbled at each other, exploring one another’s bodies through their clothes. Seated as she was, it was the perfect angle for her to rub her sensitive core against his hard erection.
A small movement—a tease—and he groaned in her ear. Her own body stilled at the amazing feeling of him, so hard and big, pressing against her clit.
He tugged her shirt off over her head, then made short work of her bra. And noise of reverence escaped him when he saw her breasts. He cupped them gently, then kissed and licked them, going back and forth between them making sure neither was neglected. Her fingernails making claw marks in his shoulders, she was driven to the edge.
When she couldn't stand it anymore, she slid off the barstool, off his lap, and tugged him toward the bedroom. He followed her, eyes hungry. They went to his bedroom because it was the closest. As they walked, they continued to kiss each other, undress each other, touch each other.
When they reached the bedroom, she stepped back. Taking a moment to appreciate his sexy, masculine form. His strength was obvious in the corded muscles covering his body from head to toe. His large cock jutted out as if reaching for her.
“You're beautiful,” he murmured.
And she realized that he'd been taking her in the same time her eyes had been feasting on his body.
Tears inexplicably sprung up in her eyes. It wasn't the first time she'd been told she was beautiful. She'd heard it before, but somehow she'd never believed it as she did from him. Something in the way he said it—the raw honesty in his voice. The utter worship in his eyes. Hell, maybe just the fact that she knew he thought more of her than her looks.
He stepped to stand in front of her, their skin now touching. Tenderly, he started his kisses on her lips and began a move at a slowly tourturous pace down her body.. Exploring every inch of her with his mouth—except the part that she really wanted him to touch. Ached for him to touch. Then he gently laid her on the bed.
His much larger form towering over hers, he started his attack again and kissed his way down her neck, over her breasts—pausing to nip and suck on her sensitive nipples. Nick kissed his way down her tender stomach, five o’clock shadow rough against her tender skin.
And when he made his way to her thighs, she gasped.
“I don't know if—” she said when she felt his breath against her core.
“Trust me,” he murmured, dark eyes locking on her own.
Unable to speak around the lump in her throat, she nodded.
Then he started to kiss her where she needed him, licking and sucking her pussy gently.
Shock and utter pleasure overwhelmed her, and she found herself unable to move, unable to do anything other than respond to his unsaid gestures. Scooting back a bit. Spreading her legs wider for his access. Moaning loudly when he teased her just
right.
Other than a high school boyfriend's terrible attempts, she hadn't had anyone go down on her. The concentration on her and her pleasure made her want to cry, at the utter selflessness of the act. But her thoughts looked away as she began to moan and writhe against him. His ministrations made her mindless.
Nick growled and increased his efforts. He slipped a long finger inside of her, still working her clit with his mouth.
A gasp escaped her. The intense pressure was too much. And still he worked her clit expertly, his finger thrusting inside of her.
An orgasm rolled over her. A whole body experience that completely removed her from the world for a long moment. She bathed in the pleasure and utter bliss. When she came back to herself, Nick was kneeling between her legs, his much larger body covering her own. He had a knowing smile on his lips, and she couldn't help a small giggle.
He gave her a questioning look. “Something funny, sweetheart?”
“It was unbelievable,” she explained, knowing he couldn't really understand.
“It was pretty fucking amazing to watch, too.”
She reached between them and found his thick cock. Softly , she began to stroke him, from the base to moist tip. A guttural groan came from Nick, and then he moved to her entrance. She released him, and he kissed her delicately .
Ever so gently, he slid along her entrance. And slowly, he pushed inside of her. So careful with her that her heart broke just a little.
“God, so fucking tight,” he ground out. “And so wet for me.”
She held onto him as he slowly built up a rhythm. As he whispered sweet words in her ear. He brought her body back to the same thrumming, needy place.
She arched her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. Squeezing her fingernails into the muscles of his ass, she spurred him on. His movements became faster, more erratic. He shook her body with every motion. Unable to help herself, she bit his shoulder, hard.
Without warning, the orgasm ripped through her, making her scream Nick’s name.
Above her, he groaned out and thrust into her hard, over and over. Finding his own release.
After a long moment of shared bliss, Nick rolled to his side, pulling her with him, still inside of her. He held her close, and the world slipped away.
9
Sophia awoke to sunshine streaming through the window, filling the room despite the drawn shades. It was late—far later than they usually awoke. But it was no wonder why.
Comfortable within the strong arms of Nick Ward, Sophia was loath to move. His body was hard enough for her to feel safe in his arms, yet just soft enough for it to be perhaps the comfiest place in the world.
The night before had been so precious, so beautiful. Nick had made love with her over and over. They'd explored each other's bodies in ways she hadn’t thought were real outside of romance novels. He'd found all of her little quirks. All the ways she liked to be touched, to be held. And she'd done her best to discover the same about him. It'd been so special. Out of this world.
And so, she didn’t want to get up.
In her experience, things so good never lasted.
“Good morning,” Nick murmured into her hair.
Feeling silly, she held her breath. Waiting for the magic to dissipate. Then he kissed her neck. Kissed her cheek. Kissed her forehead.
Her muscles began to relax.
“Did you sleep?” he asked, rolling away from her on the bed.
“Enough,” she said, then stretched. Her whole body felt good—sore in all the right places. It was like she could feel all of the tiny little microscopic endorphins coursing their way through her veins.
They took turns showering, she made the coffee and Nick was done by the time she got it percolating. After her shower, she came out to find Nick frying up bacon and eggs, English muffins in the little toaster. The man was a hoot to watch cook. Occasionally dodging bacon grease—haphazardly—and not failing to break a single yoke.
It was so… Comfortable. She sat on a barstool, smiling back when he shot her a grin over his shoulder.
She could get used to this.
Her mind immediately shied from the thought. There would be no getting comfortable. Because no matter what, at the end of the day, she and Nick were two very different people.
Nick served the slightly too crispy bacon and over medium-ish eggs. She grabbed them both a cup of coffee, and they sat together at the bar. Silence reigned while they ate, then Nick gave her a couple glances that got her spidey sense tingling.
“What is it?” she asked. When he hesitated, she added, “Just spit it out, Ward.”
He gave her a half smile. “I think you shouldn't be involved in all this anymore. I should take you back to your apartment—or somewhere else safe. Then you'll be free to do whatever you want to do, after I take this guy down.”
His words hit her like a brick to the chest. She thought she'd been doing so well—especially for her first sting operation. “Why?”
“Because if I got you killed…” He reached the short distance between them and took her hand in his, squeezing it. “I couldn't handle that, Sophia.”
She understood that. Heck, the idea of someone—Darrell—getting his hands on Nick… Hurting him. It was enough to make bile rise from her stomach and fill her heart with dread. She swallowed hard. “I get that—I really do. But I can't sit on the sidelines for this.”
He shook his head stubbornly. “I won't risk you. I can't.”
“Let’s just give it another day or two, okay?” She said. He was still shaking his head furiously, but she couldn't give up on this. Had to see it through. “I need to do this. Please. Let me try.”
He'd stopped shaking his head at least, but he was thinking. Thinking way too hard.
“I'm not a damsel in distress. I can do this,” she entreated.
Nick rubbed his face with his hands and let out a long sigh. “I hate this.”
She met his worried gaze with one of steel. “I hate it too. But it's something I have to do. I refuse to let fear ruin my damn life.”
Finally, he gave her a short nod. “Just another couple of days. Like you said. If we haven't got him then, I should go back to the drawing board anyway and try to figure out a new way to suss Ferry out.”
It was not ideal. But it was fair. “Deal.”
When she held out her hand to seal it, he gave hers a quick shake then pulled her in for a long, passionate kiss. The kind that made her toes curl and made her want to drag him back to bed.
They spent the morning together in the apartment, tidying up, chatting, and throwing around ideas on how to get Darrell to come out from his hidey hole.
But they were both very careful to avoid talking about the future, other than how it related to the case.
With the late shift at work, Sophia didn't have to leave until two. Nick kissed her passionately as she headed out the door. And she felt like she was glowing as she walked to work. Knowing he followed closely behind. Keeping her safe.
When had anyone made her safety their top priority? Hell, had anyone ever even put it in their top five of things they were concerned about?
God bless her, her mom had tried. Sometimes. During the short spans of time where she'd fight her demons, her habits. She'd make sure that Sophia knew how much she loved her. Make her the star of the show, make sure her needs were met first.
Which made it all the harder when she'd go back to her habits, stop fighting the fight. Sophia found herself dreading the moments, few though they were, that her mother would sober up. It never lasted. And thus, it never felt real.
She kicked a rock into the street. Her mother — well, you couldn't choose your mother, could you? And at least hers had tried. Every now and then. But the rest of the people she'd chosen to surround herself with… Well, that was on her.
She crossed the street quickly, watching for traffic, and rounded the bend to the store.
Darrell had been her only real long-term boyfriend. Much like her
mother, there were moments he made her feel like she was the most important thing in the world. But those moments were few and far between—especially after the first few months. Especially after she moved in with him, relied on him. When he had her where he wanted her.
She shook off the thought and entered the store, smiling as the bell jangled at Al. Sadly enough, he was probably the closest thing to a friend she really had. The only one she knew who would actually inconvenience himself if it meant helping her out.
Al and Nick.
“Well don't you look to be in a good mood today,” he observed, grinning widely.
“What can I say, Al? Feels like something good is coming in on the wind.” One of Al’s favorite sayings.
He agreed with her, then spent a few more minutes finishing the inventory he'd been working on when she walked in. Then with a wave and a smile, he headed out the door. It took every bit of her willpower not to watch as he left, in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Nick.
Nick. Now that was a puzzle. He'd seemed almost loathe her when he first met her—though she couldn't say she felt any better toward him. Make that more charitable. But in the last week, they had got to know each other. And most dangerous of all, she didn't feel like the man he was revealing to her, bit by bit, was anything but the real deal.
That's when things got dangerous. When you started to believe in people. She shook off the thought, and did her best to concentrate on her work for a few hours.
Her work phone rang during her shift, and she picked up the phone. In her purchased voice, she asked how she could help.
“Hey, girl! How's it going?”
She didn't need an introduction to know Lisa's voice. And she inwardly cringed. “I don't work, so you know…”
Lisa laughed, far too loudly at the joke. Was she already drunk?
Bounty and Bait: Bounty Hunters, Book One Page 7