Nothing To Lose: A Grey Justice Novel

by Christy Reece

  Still not understanding, she looked up at Nick again. “Why am I looking at a London Times article, dated…” She glanced back down again. “Seventeen years ago?”

  “Read the article. Then we’ll talk.”

  She dropped into a kitchen chair and quickly scanned the brief story. No identification had been found on the middle-age man, and his only distinguishing mark had been a tattoo of the scales of justice on the inside of his right wrist. The article ended with a request to contact the London police if anyone had any information on the man’s identity.

  More confused than ever, she looked up at Nick. “Okay. So what? An unidentified dead man in London seventeen years ago.”

  “Read the second article.”

  Kennedy shuffled the pages and found the second article, dated a couple of years later. An unidentified woman had been found dead in a burnt car outside Dublin, Ireland. Though the body was burned badly, there had been a tattoo on the inside of her wrist. A photograph of what remained of the tattoo was included in the article. Kennedy had to squint to make out the image, but she could see a resemblance to the tattoo of the man two years before in London.

  “Neither the man nor woman was ever identified, and they both had similar tattoos.” She shook her head. “Connect the dots for me, Nick, because I’m completely lost.”

  “Justice and I worked out in his gym last week. He has a tattoo on the inside of his wrist, identical to these tattoos.”

  “Did you ask him about it?”

  “No. I didn’t think anything of it at first. His last name is Justice. And the little I know about him made having those scales seem right. When I got home, I did some research on the tat and found these articles.”

  “It still doesn’t mean he was involved.”

  “Kennedy? Seriously? You think this is just a coincidence?”

  “Grey can’t be more than thirty-five. Seventeen years ago, he was barely out of high school.”

  “And we know zip about what he was involved in back then.”

  “So, what are you saying? That we can’t trust him? That we need to just forget seeking justice for Thomas?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying at all. But giving him your blind trust, putting your life on the line, based on some kind of vague bullshit that they think something is going to happen is damn stupid.”

  She shot up from her chair. “The only man I’ve given my blind faith to is you, so don’t you dare stand there and call me stupid. Or maybe I am stupid for thinking you actually wanted to get Thomas’s killer.”

  “Damn you, Kennedy. You know that’s not what this is about.”

  “Well, then, what is it about? You accuse Grey of being vague…what about you? You’re keeping something back from me. I know you are. How the hell am I supposed to trust you completely when you won’t tell me everything you know?”

  “I’ve told you everything.”

  “Have you?”

  His eyes burned with an intensity she had never seen in them before. The tick in his jaw, his tell she’d learned long ago, said he was keeping something back. Dammit, she could tell he wanted to say something. “Tell me, Nick. Just tell me!”

  His eyes blazing fiercely, he shouted, “Fine! You want to know the truth? Here it is. The thought of that bastard getting his hands on you sickens me. The thought of anyone but me touching you sickens me. I love you, dammit! So there. Satisfied?”

  All breath left her body. Her legs so shaky they felt as if they might collapse at any moment, she dropped back into the chair she’d just left.

  “You love me?” She stared up at him in wonder. “How? When?”

  He was looking away from her, almost as if he was ashamed. “Almost from the moment I met you.”

  She shook her head as tears filled her eyes. “Oh, no…Nick…”

  “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t need or want your pity.”

  She didn’t know how else to look at him. All this time… All the time she’d been married to Thomas, Nick had loved her. And she had never suspected. He had never let on that he saw her as anyone other than his best friend’s wife.

  “It’s not pity… I just…” She shrugged, feeling incredibly helpless and out of her depth. “I just never knew.”

  His hard gaze zeroed in on her again. “You were never meant to know. But that’s not what we should be talking about. My point is, both Justice and Eli have their own reasons for wanting to bring Mathias and Adam down. Hell, for all I know, Irelyn probably does, too. I want the bastards as bad as they do but not at your expense.”

  Kennedy pushed herself to her feet and walked slowly toward him. Nick had that earnest, intense expression on his face. At one time she had believed it was his angry look. Now she knew it was something entirely different. She could barely believe the truth, but it was staring her in the face. Nick Gallagher actually loved her.

  Stopping within inches of him, she softly said, “Kiss me.”

  “What?”

  She went closer, put her hands on his upper arms, stood on her toes and said, “Kiss me, Nick.”

  For a moment she thought he would refuse. She felt the resistance, the battle within him. Then, with a groan she barely recognized as being human, he jerked her forward and covered her mouth with his.

  The shock of his firm lips stunned her. Nick kept his mouth steady, the pressure undemanding yet unrelenting. Heat swept through her, and with a soft sigh of acceptance…of surrender, Kennedy sank into his warm, hard embrace, opened for him and let him take the kiss even deeper.

  Coherent thought disappeared as she allowed herself to feel for the first time in almost two years. A whirling vortex of emotions swirled through her. Nick’s arms felt wonderful, strong yet tender. She felt cherished, special…so incredibly safe, as if all the problems of the world could be solved within his embrace. A wave of intense longing surged through her, and Kennedy arched up against his hard body, following along willingly. Wanting, needing…giving herself up totally.

  His conscience pounded…Nick refused to listen. He couldn’t. It would tell him that this was all wrong. That she was responding only because of what he had revealed. That she was allowing this only because she was lonely and missed her husband. That the kiss meant nothing to her. All he allowed himself to think about was the here and now—the heaven of Kennedy’s arms, the delicious taste of her mouth. The soft, feminine body moving sensuously against him was the one he’d dreamed about for years. Her arms, her body, her lips were telling him she wanted this. Nick was prepared to give her everything.

  When her mouth opened beneath his, he smothered a groan, pulled her closer, his tongue devouring her sweetness. His arousal, hard and aching, pushed into the softness of her sex. Would that scare her? Would she pull away from him? She released a small sound, and he wanted to snarl in anger. No…too soon. He didn’t want to let her go. But that wasn’t what she did.

  Instead of pulling out of his arms, she grabbed his hips, pressed him deeper into her softness and began a slow, sensuous dance that almost blew his head off. Holy hell!

  Lifting her against him for a better hold, his mouth still on hers, Nick moved swiftly from the kitchen. The bedrooms were too far away…the sofa in the living room was his target. He walked blindly, thankful he knew this house so well, and was next to the sofa in seconds. Laying her on the cushions, Nick did what he had forced himself to believe could never happen. With his mouth, his hands and his body, he seduced Kennedy. Reassured her with words he’d always longed to say, his hands and mouth aroused her…petted and played with her. Allowing her no time to think, to regret…to wonder if this was a good idea, his hands slid beneath her shirt, pulled at her jeans, stripping her bare.

  For too long he had wanted this to happen. He had forced himself to give up thinking about her when she and Thomas married. His feelings hadn’t been right. Even though the knowledge that she slept in another man’s arms every night tore at his soul, he had been at peace because he’d known that Thomas
loved her. And she had been happy.

  But now…now she was his. Nick could wait no longer…he’d loved this woman forever. Telling himself that he was selfish in taking what he desperately wanted would do no good. He had to have her.

  Her clothes lay on the floor, and Kennedy lay before him, all soft, womanly loveliness. He had imagined what she looked like naked. His dreams could never have matched the reality. Perfection. Creamy silken skin, soft and giving, invited…enticed. His hands skimmed up and down her body, adoring, cherishing, loving every inch of the sexy, beautiful woman before him.

  Her breath came in pants, the scent of her arousal so intoxicating he called on every ounce of willpower to slow down and savor. The ravenous beast within him snarled that he’d waited too damn long, urged him to unzip and bury himself deep into her sweet heat. No. After years of dreaming and then forcing himself to squelch those dreams when they’d appeared, he would not rush this. Tonight Kennedy was his, and he would show her how very special she was to him.

  His hands glided down her satin body. His mouth followed, trailing kisses, licking, nibbling, sucking. He delighted in her shivers when he licked certain sweet areas, like the tender spot between her neck and shoulder, the hollow at the base of her throat. Swirling his tongue around a taut, brown nipple, he lost himself in her taste. His teeth scraped the tight bud and then nipped slightly, and she responded with a gasp and an arch of her body. So responsive, so incredibly sweet.

  Going to her other breast, he cupped it in his hand, loving the silken heaviness. Unable to hold back, he lowered his head and suckled deep, drawing her breast into his mouth. Once again, he bit her tender nipple, only a little harder this time. A cry escaped her as she arched, coming completely off the sofa, and held his head at her breast. He delighted in learning what she liked, discovering her needs…what turned her on.

  Nick trailed kisses down her silken torso to her stomach, bathing her with his tongue. He smiled at the little hitches in her breathing, the soft moans and whispered, “Yes,” when he did something she really liked. Going lower, he took a moment to inhale and savor her scent. He’d never smelled anything more delicious or satisfying than Kennedy’s arousal.

  Burying his face in the soft, mahogany curls covering her sex, he inhaled again. Then he pulled away a little and took in the incredible beauty before him. Kennedy’s entire body was flushed. Nipples, tight and distended, called out for his mouth again. Her body quivered, shook with desire. Her eyes were closed, her soft mouth slightly open as she moaned with need.

  He wanted to go back and revisit every inch of the delicious flesh he’d just tasted, but later. For now, there was only one place he had to go…had to taste. He propped her right leg onto the back of the couch, and shifting her left leg, let her foot drop to the floor. And then she was open, exposed…her delicate scent calling to him. The sweet, moist flesh he glimpsed beneath her curls enticed, invited. His mouth watered in anticipation. Kneeling before her, he cupped her bottom with his hands, buried his face between her legs and claimed her.

  Kennedy opened her mouth on a silent scream of ecstasy, wanting to cry, to shout the incredible magic of the moment…she was too busy flying, soaring into an unknown, never-before-experienced event she never wanted to end. Too delicious, too decadent. Nick seemed to know her body better than she did. His kisses tasted unlike anything she’d ever had. Everywhere he touched, everywhere his mouth went, he brought fire.

  She had been frozen for so long, and she wanted to bask in his warmth. His touch made her feel alive. Her entire body burned with renewal. When his tongue delved deeply inside her, she knew she couldn’t stop the avalanche of orgasm if she tried. Losing all sense of who she was, where she was, Kennedy gave herself up to the incredible ecstasy and beauty of the most delicious feeling in the world. Nothing mattered except reaching the ultimate pleasure. At the pinnacle, she found her voice and screamed, the sound echoing throughout the house.

  For several long seconds, she could do nothing but try to catch her breath and savor what had to have been the most explosive orgasm in the history of orgasms. If a person could have an out-of-body experience and survive, she’d just had one. At last, floating back to earth, she managed a gasping, “Nick...I...”

  His mouth covered hers, stealing her breath, stopping her words. She tasted herself on him, and a new wave of arousal hit her. Pulling at his shoulders, she felt mild, distant surprise that he had stripped. When had that happened? As her hands touched hard, naked skin, she forgot all questions as she explored his beautiful hard male body. He felt wonderful, velvet smooth, masculine and warmth, heat and desire. Nick.

  When he whispered, “Open for me, Kennedy,” she didn’t question his meaning. Arching her body upward, she opened her legs wide and almost sobbed as he slid smoothly inside her, going deep, filling her completely. Her arms wrapped around him tight, Kennedy allowed Nick to take her away from every worry, every care. She felt freer than she had in a long time…reborn, renewed.

  Rhythmically thrusting and retreating, Nick drove into her at a dizzying pace. Kennedy had no time to think, barely had enough time to breathe before she gained a new height of pleasure. She heard distant gasping, sighs, cries for more. Then she heard her voice calling for Nick, screaming his name, begging for release, begging for more, telling him what she wanted, needed. Soaring through a velvet cloud of pleasure, she reached a new, higher pinnacle and then toppled over the edge to oblivion, landing softly, safely back into Nick’s arms.

  Breath shuddered through Nick’s body as he worked to control his need. He’d just had her and wanted her again. With the knowledge that no matter how many times he made love to Kennedy, it would never be enough, Nick forced himself to pull from the wet, hot heat still pulsing around him. He was too heavy for her delicate body but couldn’t bring himself to completely release her. What if he looked into her eyes and saw regret?

  “Nick?” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “Could you carry me to bed and make love to me again?”

  Humbled by the softly worded request, emotion clogged his throat. “Hold on,” he said thickly.

  Standing, he lifted her in his arms. Her face dreamy and sated, she wrapped her arms around his neck. The trust in that gesture tightened his chest.

  He pushed opened his bedroom door, dropped her gently onto the bed and then followed her down. Giving her no time to think, to question the rightness or rationality of “them,” he kissed and caressed her back into arousal.

  Every gasp, sigh, hitch of her breath, was something he’d remember to his grave. Nick cherished her as he had wanted to for so long. When taking him became uncomfortable, he brought her to climax again with his fingers and then again with his mouth. When she was close to dozing off, he would wake her arousal again, not wanting sleep to rob them of this night. He never wanted it to end.

  Just before dawn, when he knew he could no longer keep her awake, he allowed her to settle beside him. As she snuggled up against his side, her breathing still slightly heavy from her last explosive release, he whispered into her hair, “Sleep, sweetheart.”

  She smiled vaguely, more asleep than awake.

  Nick tightened his arms around her. Though exhausted, he refused to sleep. What if he woke and realized this had been a dream? No way in hell would he take that chance.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Kennedy woke with great reluctance. Her eyelids felt heavy, weighted from lack of sleep. Why was she so tired? Yawning, she rubbed her face sleepily, tried to bring clarity to her blurred mind…decided that could wait till later. A few more minutes of sleep couldn’t hurt. Rolling to her side, she snuggled deeper into her pillow. Cool sheets met bare skin. She froze, her heart stalling in her chest. Why was she nude? She hadn’t slept without clothes since Thomas...

  Her eyes popped opened. Memories, lush and decadent, flooded her mind. Oh sweet mercy! She jackknifed to a sitting position, her panicked gaze taking in the empty bedroom. She was in the guest
room. How had she not known that? She hadn’t known it because she hadn’t cared. She had been so wrapped up in Nick, lost in the way he made her feel. Lost in a sweet, glorious bliss she’d never experienced before.

  Swinging her legs around, she dropped her feet to the floor and covered her face with her hands. He had told her—actually shouted that he loved her. And the way he had treated her, the care he had taken with her… A hot wave of heat flooded her as she remembered all he had done, the sexy, erotic things he’d said. He’d been tender, passionate, deliciously inventive.

  Every part of her body felt sore, used, achy. Without a doubt, he had given her the kind of pleasure she’d only ever read about in steamy romance novels. She honestly hadn’t believed she was capable of those kinds of physical responses. He had taken her, challenged her, and made her feel things that she’d never…

  No, no. That wasn’t right. She and Thomas had enjoyed a wonderful sex life. It had been filled with passion and tenderness. He had satisfied her in every way.

  She looked around the room. Where were her clothes? A memory washed over her, and a blush burned through her entire body. They were on the floor of the living room. Nick had stripped them from her, while she lay on the couch.

  Kennedy jumped from the bed, dashed out the door and ran down the hall to the master bedroom. Her knees touched the edge of the bed and then she sat down abruptly.

  She needed to see Nick, find out what he was thinking. Had last night meant as much to him as it had to her? Where did they go from here? A giddy sort of hope filled her.

  But before that happened…before she had a conversation that could well change her life, she had someone else she needed to speak with first.

  She began, softly, shakily, “Hi, Thomas, it’s me…Kennedy.”

  Nick carried the heavy-laden tray down the hallway. The thought of waking up a sleepy and sex-exhausted Kennedy made his movements faster than was safe for two glasses of orange juice, two mugs and a large carafe of coffee.