JOSS: A Standalone Romance (Gray Wolf Security)

by Glenna Sinclair

  Nicolas broke the kiss and focused on the sensitive area behind my neck. He kissed and licked me there and, when he nipped that place, I began to tremble. In such a short time he’d brought me close to that cliff and my desperation was growing.

  Damn, the man knew me well. Too well.

  “We need to stop now,” I gasped and then lifted his shirt and placed my mouth on his turgid nipple. I licked it and suckled. He swore softly under his breath.

  “In a moment…”

  He sank his hands in my hair, and I felt my scalp tingle. “This is crazy,” I said as I shuddered with need.

  “You’re killing me.”

  “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I muttered moving to the other nipple. I was shaking with desire so intense that it washed all common sense from my mind. “I’m on fire.”

  “You’re burning me up,” he growled when my hand snuck down to rub against his swollen head through his jeans. He lifted me up then and placed me on the edge of the table. He tugged at my clothes, ripping the rubber band from its temporary fix.

  He groaned as he tugged my tee away from my swollen belly.

  “Jesus…I have to taste you now,” he said, as he placed his mouth on my already sensitive nipples, returning the favor, practically kneeling before me. It was a powerful feeling, having this undeniably dominant man on his knees in front of me. And then he stood, needing to taste my lips again as much as I wanted to taste his. He moved between my legs, his manhood pressed against my mound. The effect of his denim clad erection against me was too much. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled, moaning at the combined assault of his mouth and his manhood. Suddenly, the pressure began to build. I felt everything fade away and narrow down to a single trajectory of intense pleasure. I stiffened and shut my eyes as I hovered on the precipice. Waves of pleasure began to waft through me and suddenly, everything exploded. I heard a low wail, and it was not until Nicolas covered my mouth in another very wet, very sexy kiss that I realized the wail was coming from me.

  I slowly came down from my climax. My limbs felt heavy, and my eyes were heavy. I was gasping for breath and wondering what the hell had happened when I felt his hands around my bottom. He pulled me to the edge of the table, tearing my jeans—my panties—from my body. I felt his tip against me. Just like that, I was hot and hungry again. I wriggled closer and bit my lip to stop the cry that was just begging to come out. He felt so good. I opened my legs wider to let him know I was ready and, without a word, he slid deep inside of me, biting his own lip as a groan slipped out. He wanted to be gentle. I could see it in the intensity of his stare, in the tremor of his hands.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “They’re protected.”

  It was as though that was all he needed to hear. He rammed into me with such force that a scream tore from my mouth. He pulled out of me, and I whimpered in protest before he rammed into me again.

  “Oh…ah…I…this is…!”

  I was incoherent. I could not form a single sentence to save my life. This was more intense than anything I had ever experienced. I forced my eyes open and looked into his. They were ablaze with passion as he stared intensely at me. I could see that he was at the edge of control. When he slammed into me a third time, I felt my sex begin to clench around him and knew that I was at the cusp of another fantastic orgasm. I tried to hold back, to see how much I could take, but he was having none of it. He slid his hand between us and pressed his thumb against my clit and, just like that, I fell apart. I held onto him and jerked, screaming, as the orgasm carried me high into the air. Then, I felt myself shatter into a million pieces. I heard him shout my name as his own climax hit, and it triggered mine again.

  We collapsed against each other, each shuddering at the strength of the passion we’d just experienced.

  “What the hell was that?” he murmured.

  I trembled in the aftershock, ridiculously glad that he didn’t deny the power of what had happened.

  “Crazy…,” I said, still not able to speak coherently. “Just crazy.”

  “Yeah,” he said and then kissed me.

  It was different from the hungry kiss we’d shared earlier. It wasn’t even the wet I-can’t-wait-to-be-inside-you kiss we’d shared just before he’d slid into me. This one was gentle and sweet, but no less intense. I sighed and knew I was in trouble.

  Slowly, he broke the kiss and touched his forehead to mine. “You are incredible, Ana,” he said at last. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

  “Take me to bed,” I suggested, too tired and aware of the change between us to deny this…whatever it was anymore.

  He didn’t have to be told twice. He gathered me into his arms and carried me up the stairs like a bride on her wedding night. Only this bride was already five-months pregnant and without benefit of the legal ceremony or even the love of her man.

  One thing at a time, I supposed.

  Chapter 13

  I was in the middle of a wonderful dream. The babies were here, sleeping happily in perfect white cribs and Nicolas had his arms around me, telling me what a wonderful life we were all going to have together. The dream made me smile, even in my sleep.

  And then a loud knocking made the dream fall apart around the edges.

  “What is it?” I heard Nicolas call.

  “You need to come downstairs, Mr. Costa.”

  “What the hell for?” He was angry now. I recognized that tone.

  “The police are here, Mr. Costa.”

  My eyes popped open then. The bed shifted as Nicolas climbed around me, padding off to the closet to get a pair of pants. He was still shirtless when he opened the door, and I saw the top of one of the bodyguard’s head before Nicolas stepped into the hallway.

  I sat up and picked up Nicolas’ discarded shirt from the night before and slipped it over my body. Despite my swollen belly, it managed to cover me to the top of my thighs. I slipped into the bathroom and cleaned myself up a little, wondering all the while what was going on.

  “You need to go,” Nicolas said, rushing back into the room and grabbing clothes from the closet.

  “What’s happening?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, not even looking at me. “The police are here with a search warrant. They want to look through Aurora’s things.”

  “Why?”

  “If I knew that, they wouldn’t have caught me by surprise, now would they have?”

  He glanced at me then, a touch of remorse skidding across his face.

  “I don’t want you here while they do the search. Adam is waiting to take you to Constance’s apartment.”

  I nodded, obediently marching to the door. Nicolas came up behind me and grabbed my arm.

  “I’m sorry, Ana. I’ll call you as soon as I know what this is all about.”

  I nodded again and melted a little when he kissed me.

  I went to my own room and dressed quickly, tossing a couple of things into a bag since I didn’t know how long I’d be at Constance’s. I was headed down the stairs with the bodyguard—Nicolas called him Adam—when I heard a deep voice reciting the Miranda Rights in the entry way. I pulled away from Adam and rushed to the bottom of the stairs just in time to see a cop in a cheap wool suit put Nicolas in handcuffs.

  “Nicolas Costa, you’re being arrested for the charge of murder in the first degree,” the detective said.

  “Nico!” I cried.

  He looked at me, a lost little boy with shame coloring his face.

  “Take her out of here,” Nicolas said roughly to Adam.

  I felt Adam take my arm, but all I saw was Nicolas being escorted out to a police cruiser.

  Chapter 14

  I was dreaming—a beautiful, wonderful dream—and then my world turned into a nightmare.

  Five months ago, I was just a kindergarten teacher, finishing up the spring semester at a small private school in a suburb of Los Angeles. And then everything imploded. My mother got cancer and that led to a desperate need to get mon
ey and that led to me volunteering to be a surrogate for the actress, Aurora Parker, and her ultra-famous, billionaire husband, Nicolas Costa. But, of course, it couldn’t all go smoothly. Right before the first insemination attempt, Nicolas came on to me in the same house he shared with his wife, then my mother died of a heart attack the night before she was supposed to start chemo, and then Aurora died a week later of an apparent drug overdose in New York City. It was all too much and I took off, well aware that the insemination had worked and I was pregnant. I didn’t think Nicolas would want the baby after all of that.

  But, of course, I was wrong.

  Nicolas followed me to Texas and insisted I return to L.A. until the baby’s birth. If I didn’t, he wasn’t going to hold up his end of the bargain I’d made with Aurora—that I would be allowed pictures and the occasional visit. And once we were settled in his house—the same house he once shared with Aurora and the house my mother’s best friend, Constance, worked as the housekeeper in—he dragged me off to a new doctor who quickly discovered that I wasn’t just having a baby, I was having twins. Plus, I have gestational diabetes that requires up to five shots a day to keep my blood sugar in tight alignment.

  My mom used to say Murphy’s law ruled my life. She wasn’t kidding.

  But last night, things seemed to be getting better. Nicolas and I sat down to dinner together. It was awkward, at first. But then…when he was touching me, it was like all common sense just disappeared. And he was so gentle, so kind and considerate. It felt like we’d actually made a connection for the first time since we met. He took me to bed and we lay in each other’s arms until the wee hours, touching and whispering to each other. Then I fell asleep and dreamed that the babies were here, sleeping happily in perfect white cribs and Nicolas had his arms around me, telling me what a wonderful life we were all going to have together. The dream made me smile, even in my sleep. But then it turned into a nightmare with a knock on the door. Nicolas’s bodyguard, Adam, was there, telling him the police were there. And then:

  I was headed down the stairs with Adam when I heard a deep voice reciting the Miranda Rights in the entry way. I pulled away from Adam and rushed to the bottom of the stairs, just in time to see a cop in a cheap wool suit put Nicolas in handcuffs.

  “Nicolas Costa, you’re being arrested for the charge of murder in the first degree,” the detective said.

  “Nico!” I cried.

  He looked at me, a lost little boy with shame coloring his face.

  “Take her out of here,” Nicolas said roughly to Adam.

  I felt Adam take my arm, but all I saw was Nicolas being escorted out to a police cruiser.

  Now I was at Constance’s, curled up on the couch in her cramped living room, trying not to hear—but watching every second of the news reports on Nicolas’ arrest.

  “Police aren’t commenting at this time,” the pretty blond reporter was currently saying, “but sources close to the case say that police have found evidence that Nicolas Costa was in New York City on the night his wife died despite the fact that he told investigators he was home alone that night. The source states that a witness has come forward, claiming that he saw Nicolas Costa at the restaurant Aurora Parker had just left when she died in the back of her chauffeured limo. And another witness claims that Nicolas Costa threatened his wife on several occasions, most notably the night before her trip to New York City.”

  I shook my head, tears threatening, as I sat back and ran my hand slowly over my swelling belly.

  “Did he really do it?”

  I glanced at Mercedes, Constance’s thirteen year old niece. She, along with several cousins and Constance’s two teenaged sons, lived in this tiny apartment with Constance. It was like trying to study in a frat house. There were so many people I could hardly think.

  “Go outside, mija,” Constance said, shooing Mercedes away. Then she picked up the remote and turned off the television. “You’ve done nothing but watch this stuff for two days,” she said to me.

  “What else is there to do?”

  “Eat.”

  Constance set a plate of tamales in front of me. I looked at them and my stomach clutched. I shook my head. If I ate, I’d have to take a shot, and I really didn’t want to do that.

  “You need to feed those babies,” Constance said.

  I ran my hand slowly over my belly. “They seem to be growing fine whether I eat of not. I’ve gained five pounds since I got out of the hospital.”

  “Because they’re taking what they need whether you eat or not. But that won’t last long.”

  I just shook my head and reached for the remote. The television popped back on and the outer gate of Nicolas’ house flooded the screen. I sat forward, staring as a dark car pulled slowly to the gates and the gate slowly began to slide open as reporters surrounded the car.

  “He’s home?”

  Constance just shrugged, as she watched the screen too.

  “I have to go.” I jumped to my feet and grabbed my bag, shoving the few things I’d removed—my blood sugar meter, a book, a couple of clean shirts—back inside and slid my feet into sandals.

  “I’m sure he’ll send for you when he’s ready,” Constance said.

  I shook my head. “No. He’ll want me to stay as far away as possible.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t go.”

  “But he needs me.”

  I headed for the front door, but Constance grabbed my arm.

  “Ana, think about this. This man has been accused of killing his wife. Do you really think he’s the kind of man you want to be with right now?” She touched my belly. “These babies are the most important thing in your world right now. Maybe it would be best if you stayed here and let people who love you take care of you.”

  “These babies are Nicolas’. I should be there.”

  “Ana, you’re just a surrogate.”

  “I know that.”

  I dragged my fingers through my dark hair, my thoughts whirling in a million different directions. However, they all kept coming back to Nicolas alone, dealing with the darkest moments of his life in that big house without anyone who cared about him. I needed to be there. I needed to show him that I cared.

  Constance stood in front of me, her experienced eyes watching me. And I could see in them that she knew it was already too late. Even I wasn’t quite sure what my feelings for Nicolas were, but I knew I had them. And I knew they were deeper than those of a girl who had a crush on the man whose child she’s carrying. All of this began as a means to an end, a way to get the money my mom would need to survive her cancer. But then I met Aurora and I really wanted to give her the gift of a child. Nicolas made it weird when he kissed me, but I still wanted to help Aurora; I still wanted to make her dreams come true. And then she was dead and I was alone with this baby that Nicolas didn’t even know about. And then he found me and made me feel things I’d never felt before…never have I ever hated someone the way I hated Nicolas for taking control of my life and bullying me into coming back to L.A. Never have I ever hated someone so much for making me dependent on them—I’ve never been so dependent on someone, so dependent on a place to live, transportation, medical care, clothes, food, and everything else. But…never have I wanted to be near someone the way I wanted to be near Nicolas. Never have I wanted a man like I want Nicolas.

  I was falling for him, and I hated myself for it almost as much as Constance clearly disapproved of it.

  “You know he’s a good man,” I said softly. “You were the reason I volunteered to be their surrogate in the first place.”

  “He was a good man. Once.” Clouds danced over Constance’s face. “But you don’t know what happened in that house over these past few years, what I heard between him and his wife. I never told you or your mother some of the worst things.”

  “It was a bad marriage.”

  “It was more than that.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t care. I’m going back there, and I’m going to help him through
this because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “But what about all of this?” Constance asked, gesturing to the television. “What about this investigation?”

  “He didn’t do it.” I looked at her, expecting her to agree with me, but she avoided my gaze, as though she didn’t want me to see what she was thinking. And that made a cold shiver run down my spine. “Constance, you know he didn’t do this.”

  “I know they had a fight that day.” She crossed her arms over her chest, a defiant set to her chin. “I know he told her not to come back if she left. And I know he told her he would kill her if he ever saw her again.”

  I wanted to deny what she’d said. I wanted to tell her that she had no idea what she was talking about. I wanted to defend Nicolas with every inch of my being. However, there was this little voice at the back of my mind reminding me that Constance has never told a lie in her life. She was one of those who was convinced that God could hear every word falling from our lips and that he would strike her dead where she stood if she uttered a lie. I also knew how bad Nicolas’ marriage was those final years. He’d told me. So it was possible. But…

  “That doesn’t mean he did what they’re saying.”

  Constance inclined her head slightly.

  “She was alone in the back of that limo when the driver discovered she’d overdosed. And it was an overdose. Who can say that she didn’t take the drugs of her own freewill?”