Wanting It

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Wanting It Page 14

by Scarlet Wilder


  Looking at her, I took a deep breath. “This thing between us.”

  She began to speak, then stopped and then started again, choosing her words carefully.

  “I know you are right. It doesn’t make sense. But, I want you,” she confessed, making my heart leap. “I’ve always wanted you. I just can’t bear the thought of being left alone for six months at a time. I can’t live like that, Jake.”

  “Then I’ll quit,” I said promptly. “I’ve been working on my own ideas, my own pieces for a while now, and I’ve been scoping a building downtown back home that would be perfect for a studio. I’ve been playing with the idea for a long time now, but I know that the only reason I’ve held off on it is because I was waiting for someone. I was waiting for you. Fuck, Nikki, I guess this means I’ve fallen in love with you. Shit, I’ve never said that to any woman before.”

  The smile on her face was beautiful, and she held my face with her hands before kissing me. She was crying as she pulled her face away again. “I love you, Jake,” she whispered. “Oh God, I’ve loved you forever.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said. “You’re not getting on a plane today.”

  It wasn’t easy to convince the airline that she needed to get her luggage back, and they informed us that she would have to wait until it came back.

  “Forget it,” I said. “You don’t need it. Pick it up when you get back. Right now, you and I are going back to the resort.”

  The airline agreed to pull the bag and we paid one of the luggage companies to hold it until she was ready to fly home in two days’ time, there being no way we could take it back on the bike with us.

  Until then, she’d have to make do with the clothes she had on, but, if I had anything to do with it, she wouldn’t be keeping them on for long, anyway.

  As she had done the first night we’d met again after all those years, she got on the back of my bike and held on to me as tightly as ever as we roared back to the resort. Once there, I pulled the bike in front of reception and tossed the keys back to the guy behind the desk with a wink. He grinned at me and gave me a thumbs-up.

  The walk to the villa was too far, and I couldn’t wait. Instead, I pulled her into the gym behind reception. It was empty, save for a large woman puffing away on a cross trainer, oblivious to the two of us.

  There was an open door to the changing rooms, which was good enough. We slipped inside and I turned the key in the lock. Then I grabbed Nikki, lifted her up like I had inside the office on Brandon’s wedding day, and I pulled her panties down her legs. She leaned her hands on the washbasin as she opened her legs to me, and I pulled myself out of my shorts and entered her with ease.

  “Fuck,” I breathed as she kissed me desperately, running her hands over my arms. “You’re never leaving me again.”

  “I’m never leaving you again,” she repeated, between groans as she ground her hips and took every thrust I had to give her.

  I’d crossed the sea for her, run to the airport, and brought her back to me, where she belonged. And I had to make her mine in that moment. Nothing else mattered but claiming her, assuring her that every word I’d uttered was the truth. I loved her, and only her, whether it made sense or not.

  I came with a roar and I told her again, and she wept as she kissed me and confirmed the same.

  We slipped out of the changing rooms and strolled back to my villa where we showered under the warm jets in the bathroom, stroking each other. She was suddenly shy with me, as though it was her first time all over again. And, when we came back to the bedroom, we didn’t bother getting dressed again.

  This time I wasn’t in a hurry. I kissed every inch of her body, teasing her, playing with her, getting her wetter than she’d ever been. Then I took that wetness on my tongue, savoring the sweet flavor of her. I sucked her, licked her, stroked her and caressed her until she begged for me. Hearing her scream my name as I entered her once more confirmed what I already knew: Nicole Thomson was mine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  NIKKI

  †

  “HANG ON, LET ME get my tea. I need to get comfortable on the couch to listen to this.”

  I waited patiently for Mom as she put down the receiver, and I envisioned her shuffling to the kitchen in her thick purple slippers. She’d reach for the cup on the counter where the teabag inside it had probably been stewing for the better part of twenty minutes. She wouldn’t add milk or sugar; she’d scoop the bag out, leave it on the side of the sink to use again later, and then she’d come back to her favorite seat on the couch. I’ve never understood how she can drink tea this way; barely warm, strong as hell and no sugar to take away the bitterness.

  It was only a few moments before she picked up the phone again. “I’m so jealous,” she said, “it’s freezing cold here and you’re probably basking in ninety-degree heat over there.”

  “Close enough,” I said. “It’s in the low eighties. But, don’t be too jealous. I’m coming home tomorrow, remember?”

  I was just too excited and couldn’t wait to call her before I left Hawaii. I was itching to call Mia, too, but I knew that Mom had been so worried about me since we came back from the wedding that she’d be relieved to know I was doing okay. As it turned out, she was much more than relieved. She was positively thrilled.

  She wanted far too many smutty details, but for the first time in my adult life, I wasn’t embarrassed by the sex questions Mom asked me. The first thing she wanted to know was whether we were being careful.

  “Don’t get me wrong, you’d make beautiful babies,” she said, “and I can’t wait for you and your brother to give me a whole heap of fat grand-babies, but right now, it’s a bit early.”

  “Mom, I’ve been taking care of that, don’t worry,” I assured her. “Not that there was much point until now, but I guess it made sense just in case someone else had come along.”

  “Oh, there was never going to be anyone else in your heart but him,” Mom sighed. “I knew it from the day your brother brought him home for dinner that night after football practice. You pretty much melted into a puddle at his feet.”

  I laughed. “I can’t believe you remember that!” I said. “And here’s me thinking I was the epitome of cool that day.”

  “Well, maybe you were to everyone else,” Mom said, “but to me, you were my little girl, growing up much too fast.”

  I could hear her voice crack, but I wasn’t worried. For the first time in a long time, I knew my mom was content. She only ever wanted us to be happy, both Brandon and I, and she knew that my brother was doing just fine with Clea in their newlywed life.

  She knew I was always going to do well in my career, too, but now that I had a good man to ‘look after me in other ways’, as she stated, she was positively beaming with joy. She asked me about Jake’s family.

  “His mom’s still pretty local,” I said. “She lives out of town, maybe thirty minutes away. I think she must be happy he’s settling down, too.”

  I was sad just thinking about how much I’d hate for him to leave me, and then I thought about how much harder it must have been for Janine, spending the last seven years wondering if her only child was ever going to come home from any of his numerous assignments, each carrying their own measure of danger.

  Without Jake’s dad, who’d left when he was still very young, Janine had raised her son single-handedly and, although I’d only met her once or twice when I was a kid, I wanted to fling my arms around her neck and thank her for raising the man who was already making me happier than I’d ever been before.

  Once Jake and I confessed our true feelings for each other, the weight that I didn’t even know I’d been carrying around for the last four months, finally lifted. In fact, I’d probably carried the weight since I was twelve years old.

  I’d remained a virgin for so long because, somehow, my soul must have known that I was always waiting for Jake. After all, when you’ve met perfection, nothing else is ever going to measure up.

&
nbsp; For the final twenty-four hours on Kauai, we were more open and honest with each other than we’d ever had the opportunity to be. I didn’t push him away any longer, and he treated me like a queen.

  I loved him even more when he told me more about what had happened to his friend, Tim, and how he helped to find him in the Congo. It was heartbreaking to hear about what was going on there, and seeing how deeply he felt about the suffering of others made me realize just what a beautiful heart this man had.

  We talked a little about Brandon. From what Mom had assured me, my big brother wasn’t going to spend too much time worrying about his best friend and his little sister once he knew how happy Jake and I were. “You’re the first person to have tamed him,” Mom reminded me. “Brandon was a little wild himself until he met Clea. He’ll understand that Jake’s exactly like him. He just needs a little time to get his head around the fact that you’re the one to have gotten Jake to finally settle down.”

  She seemed sure of her theory, but I knew that Brandon and I hadn’t been the same with each other since the wedding. When I sent him a text about anything, he replied, but was always that little more curt, that little less easygoing. It was something I was going to have to work on when I got back to Omaha.

  Until then, Jake and I soaked up every single second of being together. We spent most of our time in bed, getting to know each other even better, and, when we got hungry for something other than sex, we ordered room service rather than having to go out of the villa. At night, we walked along the sand, talking for hours about everything, getting to know each other and, most importantly, about where we’d go next.

  I began to dare to hope that maybe, one day, we’d be flying out to our own tropical destination, and, maybe, I’d be the one wearing the long white dress and walking down a green lawn with friends and family beaming at me. At the end of the lawn would be Jake, in a suit, and he’d see me and smile…

  It wasn’t right to get too carried away. For now, I was only too thrilled simply to know he was mine.

  What happened tomorrow, or the next day didn’t matter.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  JAKE

  †

  I CHANGED MY FLIGHT to come home with Nikki. While I could’ve stayed for the extra three days I’d paid for, there was no point in my waving her off at the airport to travel home alone only for me to do the same a little later on.

  Instead, I paid through the nose for two first-class tickets and we traveled home in style. When we clinked our champagne glasses as we ascended into the heavens, we didn’t need to say what it was we were toasting. We both knew.

  Back in Omaha, we hailed a cab. We collected the suitcase from the luggage company at the airport before we left Kauai. Thank God, as inside that case was some of the sexiest underwear I’ve ever seen. She modeled plenty of it for me…

  Next to clothing, lingerie was surely my second love. But, it was the woman who wore it for me now who was my first love.

  I spent very little time in my own apartment over the next few weeks; I also got to finally meet Pete the cat properly. While I’d seen him, fat and curious, in Mia’s arms the night I’d gone over to the apartment, we hadn’t yet been formally introduced. He rubbed his big body against my leg, purring, and I guess that meant he approved.

  Marshall wasn’t a happy man when I told him I’d no longer be going on any more assignments. I could almost hear his bank account sobbing with grief when I explained that my contract with Woke had come to an end.

  “Don’t do it,” he begged. “Take a little time off, sure, but don’t give up completely, man. Think of the awards you’ve already won and you’re in your prime!”

  “If I take time off, it means I’ll go back to it again,” I told him. “Look, I’m always going to miss it a little bit. I know that. Being out there in the wilderness is one hell of an adrenaline rush, believe me, but I have other things to focus on now.”

  “Fuck. She’d better be worth it,” Marshall grunted. “From the piece that you did about her award for Architect of the Year, I knew she was the reason you’re quitting. Anyone would think she’d discovered the cure for cancer or something reading that article.”

  “Well, in a way, what she’s doing is just as important,” I said. “She stands for everything you do at Woke. She’s creating the kind of sustainable living solutions that the planet needs. It’s this kind of thing that’s going to keep the earth going for the next few hundred years. When all the fossil fuels have been taken and there’s nothing left, her buildings are going to be the only ones still standing.”

  “That might be taking things a little too far,” Marshall said, dryly, “but I understand what you mean. Maybe you should be her official photographer, and give us the rights to all her new designs.” Typical Marshall. Always the businessman.

  “Ah, you’ll have to talk to Nikki about that,” I said, “but it’s not a bad idea at all.”

  “So what now?” Marshall asked. “Surely sitting on your ass and getting all flabby means you won’t be able to hang onto this girl very long.”

  I laughed. “I’ve got no intention of sitting on my ass and getting flabby,” I assured him. “I still want to travel. There are plenty of places in the world I want to take her to and new places we’ll explore together. For now, though, I’m happy staying in five-star hotel rooms and sitting by pools rather than backpacking my way through war-torn lands where I have to bribe mercenaries and sleep in tents.”

  “Come on,” Marshall said, coaxing me. “You know you loved that life. It wasn’t just about the photographs. You’re not fooling anyone here.”

  He was right, and I told him so. But, as I assured him, the adrenaline rush I got just from seeing Nikki walk into a room was worth giving up the exciting globe-trotting life. Marshall wished me well for the future and promised me that I’d always have a job with him and the magazine.

  There was no doubt he’d made a good point, though, and so, on a freezing cold February fourteenth as Nikki and I sat in a restaurant in the aptly-named city of Valentine, Nebraska, eating steak and drinking an extremely good red wine, we talked over my conversation with Marshall.

  “It’s been the thing that plagued me the most since we met again in that nightclub,” Nikki said. “I know what you’re like. You were made for adventure. There’s no getting away from that.”

  “What I can’t understand is why that plagues you,” I said, stroking her hand. “The only reason I spent so much time filling my life with one exciting exploit after the other is because I wasn’t truly fulfilled. I didn’t realize it until I met you. And, besides, it’s not like all the adventure’s stopped because we’re together.”

  “True,” she conceded. “You’re still the master of surprises. Take tonight, for instance. I thought we were going to have a quiet meal at home. I had no idea I’d be whisked away for a cheeky weekend with you.”

  “It’s our first Valentine’s day, baby,” I said, leaning in to kiss her. “I wasn’t about to let you get away with a quiet night in. Maybe in fifty years’ time, but for now, we’re still young.”

  She gazed at me, and in her eyes, I could practically see the cogs turning. “Do you really think we’ll be together in fifty years?” she asked slowly. “I thought I was the only one to think about that kind of thing.”

  “Well, I’ve spent the first twenty-eight years of my life without you in it,” I said. “I don’t intend on spending another single day without you if that’s what you mean.”

  And she smiled. I loved to see her smile. The fire had never left her eyes, but it was rarely directed at me these days, at least not in anger.

  That evening, after our meal, we bundled up against the cold and walked slowly around the small town, stopping in a couple of bars for drinks. Then, when we got back to the hotel, I slowly undressed her in front of the log fire, and we made love on a blanket on the floor. When she sat with one leg either side of my waist, moving her hips and looking down on me holding her ha
ir up with both hands before letting it fall over her shoulders as she moaned, I knew that we’d move like this together until the day we died.

  Back home once more, I finally made a decision on the studio. I sold my apartment and Nikki gave up the lease on her own place. We took an apartment together downtown, close to her office and not too far from the studio.

  When I bought it, it was little more than an empty space that needed a lot of work, but I knew the potential it had. It became my new project and, every evening as we ate dinner together, Nikki would wipe a smudge of dust from my face, or pick a fleck of paint out of my hair.

  Occasionally, as I walked to the place in the mornings, I’d stop to get a coffee and a newspaper. Spring was coming to Nebraska, and I enjoyed sitting outside the studio on the steps.

  One time, I bought a copy of Woke, and, as I opened the magazine, I looked at the new, groundbreaking articles they were writing. There was a piece on the jade mines of southern China, and I felt for the poor guy who’d trekked deep into the hills of the Guangxi province, searching for the caves whose walls bore the priceless green rock.

  Then there was an article about tiger attacks on villagers in India, and I empathized with the photographer credited for the work; a guy called Bill Grayson. I knew he would’ve had to make several plane rides and rickety bus journeys to the remote village where humans lived alongside huge, terrifying cats that poached their livestock and even their friends and relatives. I thought about Bill, struggling to eat the spicy food the locals made him, resulting in hours on the toilet when he should have been poised in a blind, waiting for the perfect shot of the magnificent beast of legend.

  I missed it. There was no denying it. But, I had something new to work for and someone in my life who made me smile every second we were together. So, while I was no longer hacking my way through the jungle with a machete, I was punching holes in walls with a sledgehammer.

 

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