Into Your Arms (A Contemporary Romance Novel)

by Strom, Abigail

  In the sudden darkness he took her by the shoulders and pushed her back against the door.

  She gasped. He couldn’t see her, but he was acutely aware of the scent of her perfume and the feel of her skin, warm and resilient and softer than silk. He heard her breathing, quick and shallow.

  She put her palms against his chest. When she spoke, her voice was low and shaky.

  “Nick. What are you doing?”

  He swallowed. “I wanted to thank you again for helping Keisha today.”

  “I—” He heard her take a breath. “You didn’t have to drag me in here to—”

  “I also wanted to tell you that you really should date Jerry Brookfield.”

  She went still. “I don’t need you to tell me who to date,” she said coldly. “You’ve made it very clear that you don’t—”

  “He’s smart, he’s hard-working, and he even has a sense of humor. And he lives here in New York. You guys could actually have a future together. Get married, have kids, settle down.”

  “Nick—”

  “But it’s not going to happen.”

  Perfect silence, perfect stillness. And then, under his hands, Sara started to tremble.

  “I can’t give you what Jerry could,” he whispered. “But I want you. I want you so much I’m losing my mind.”

  He let go of her shoulders and covered her hands, which were still on his chest. He circled her wrists and pulled them away, down to her sides, and when that fragile barrier was gone he pressed his body into hers.

  His blood surged when he felt her against him. “Do you want me?” he asked, his voice rough.

  “You can’t just—”

  “Do you want me?”

  “Nick—”

  He found her mouth in the dark and kissed her, tightening his hands around her wrists and pressing his erection against her stomach.

  He dragged his mouth from hers. “Do you want me?”

  “Yes.”

  The word was a sigh, and the sweetness of the sound and her breath undid him completely. He thrust his hands into her hair and kissed her again, hard and fierce and with no vestige of civilization clinging to him.

  Her tongue slid against his and he dropped his hands to her hips, pulling her hard against him. Her moan was like a vibration in his bones and he slid his hands up her torso to her breasts.

  She gasped, her back arching as her nipples hardened against his palms, and he hooked his fingers under the straps of her sundress and slid them down her arms.

  She wasn’t wearing a bra.

  “Christ,” he muttered, covering her breasts again and squeezing lightly. They fit perfectly in his hands.

  “That feels so good,” Sara whispered, and her head fell back as he kissed her throat. “Nick…I want…let’s go back to the apartment.”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “We’re not waiting that long.”

  “Nick…”

  He dipped his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth, and she shuddered against him. He moved to her other breast and he felt her hands slide into his hair, gripping hard as she held him in place.

  He pulled away long enough to grab his wallet from his pocket, fumbling for the condom inside.

  “Nick, we can’t—”

  “I don’t care. I’m taking you here, now. Then we’ll go back to the apartment, where I’m going to make love to you all night long. But if you want me, Sara, I’m going to start right here. Do you want me?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  “Thank God.”

  He let his jacket fall to the floor as he jerked his belt out of its loops, but he didn’t bother to take anything else off. He was reaching for his zipper when Sara got there first, and the feel of her hands on him twisted his gut and wrenched at his bones.

  “Jesus.”

  Her hands went still. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No. No.” He took a ragged breath. “It’s just that I’ve imagined you touching me like this from the moment we met.”

  Her hand started to move, and he almost wished he wasn’t so hot for her. He wanted her to keep going, but the way he felt right now, he’d be lucky if he lasted two seconds.

  “Sara—”

  “What?” she whispered.

  “Take your panties off.”

  He heard her shifting in the dark while he ripped open the foil packet and rolled the condom on, and then he put his hands on Sara’s waist and lifted her up.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he said, and she did.

  He could feel the sweet gust of her breath on his cheek as she put her arms around his neck. She hung on while he guided himself to her entrance, and she was so hot and wet and ready for him that when he pushed inside he slid all the way home.

  They both froze. And then, in a spasm of hunger that clawed at his throat and sent heat pumping into every part of his body, he began to move.

  “Nick.”

  Her legs tightened around him and her fingers dug into his shoulders. In the dark every sense was heightened, and the scent of her and the heat of her and the ragged sound of her breath all wrapped him in layers of unbearable pleasure. He went deeper, harder, wanting to drive everything out of her head and heart and body but him.

  “You’re mine,” he heard himself say, the words coming in an atavistic rush that seared through him.

  “Oh, God,” Sara said, and then he felt her body tighten. Knowing she was close brought him to the edge, too, and his heart slammed against his ribs as he thrust inside her one more time, saying her name as they fell over the cliff together.

  His bones dissolved into heat and light, but he couldn’t collapse, not with Sara in his arms. That was his one conscious thought as ecstasy spiraled through him.

  He turned to put his back against the door and then slid down until he was sitting on the floor with Sara in his lap.

  He pressed his forehead to hers, and in the darkness he listened to the sound of their breathing and gloried in the feel of Sara shaking in his arms.

  “Are you okay?” he asked after what felt like a long, long time, stroking her hair with a tenderness that felt as powerful as need.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been this okay,” she said, and her words thrilled him all over again. He pulled her closer.

  “What happens now?” she asked, nestling against his chest.

  Did she mean tonight, or for the foreseeable future?

  One step at a time.

  “We’re going to leave the hotel and catch a cab back to the apartment. Once we’re there I’m going to take you to bed, where you’ll be lucky if you get an hour of sleep tonight.”

  “That’s quite a plan,” she said after a moment of electric silence.

  “I thought so.”

  “There’s just…I need to…”

  He threaded his fingers into her hair. “What?”

  “Jerry. I told him he could see me home tonight, and we’re supposed to be having dinner together this weekend.”

  His hands tightened on her. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “I figured,” she said drily. “But I need to say something to him.”

  “I’ll do it,” he said after a moment. “I should go back and say goodnight, anyway. I’ll talk to Jerry.”

  “What are you going to tell him?”

  “I’m going to tell him you’re taken,” he said, and when he heard the possessiveness in his voice he wondered exactly how much trouble he was in here.

  Sara cleared her throat. “I’ll go to the ladies’ room to freshen up, and then I’ll meet you out front.”

  “All right.”

  He started to shift her off his lap, but then her hands were in his hair and her mouth was on his.

  “Don’t take too long,” she said huskily, after she let him come up for air.

  He swallowed. “Believe me, I won’t.”

  * * *

  She wouldn’t normally have let Nick talk to Jerry on her behal
f, but when she saw herself in the bathroom mirror she knew she’d made the right decision. Her lips were swollen and her face was flushed and her eyes were glowing like stars, and even after she’d combed her hair and straightened her dress there was no way anyone could see her and not know what she’d been up to.

  As she thought about exactly what she and Nick had been up to a smile spread across her face, and she watched her eyes sparkle at her in the mirror. And she wondered if Nick had meant what he said about the amount of sleep she’d be getting tonight.

  The cab ride back to the apartment gave her a pretty good idea. They kissed the whole way, mouths locked and hands roaming almost desperately. They stumbled up the four flights of stairs as though they were drunk, stopping to kiss at every landing, including their own.

  Which was why they were still in the hallway when the door to Nick’s apartment opened.

  They jumped apart as Kevin stuck his head out.

  “I thought I heard somebody out here,” he said. He started to say something else, and then his gaze moved between the two of them.

  She wondered if Nick looked as guilty as she did.

  After a long moment, Kevin cleared his throat. “You know what? I’m going to go back inside, and it’ll be like I was never here.”

  Then he closed the door firmly behind him.

  Sara bit her lip. “Is it okay that he knows?”

  Nick took the key from her hand and opened her door. “Sara, the only thing I care about right now is you. And as for Kevin…” he paused.

  “What?”

  “Let’s just say he called this one a while ago. He’s a lot smarter than I am.”

  His brother had said something to Nick about the two of them? Did that mean that Nick had talked to him about her, or…

  No. She wasn’t going to overthink this. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t going to be reasonable or sensible or disciplined. She wasn’t going to worry or analyze or—

  “Sara.”

  “What?” she asked, realizing that she’d stopped in the middle of her living room.

  Nick stepped close and smoothed the skin between her brows.

  “Don’t think,” he said softly. “Just feel.”

  She closed her eyes as he pressed a kiss where his fingers had been, and then she squeaked when he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. She squeaked again when he tossed her into the middle of the bed, and then she lay back against the pillows and watched him make short work of his tie, shirt, pants, socks, shoes, and boxers.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  “You’re staring,” he said as he sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled at her.

  “You’re naked.”

  “Yeah, I am. Now it’s your turn.”

  In spite of everything they’d already done that night, her face heated.

  “You’re feeling shy,” he said, reaching out to stroke her hair.

  The sensation made her scalp prickle, and she closed her eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” she opened her eyes. “Because we can see each other now.”

  “I know. And I for one am pretty excited by that prospect.” He leaned forward and put his hands on her shoulders, playing with the straps of her sundress. “Sara, I don’t think you know exactly how much I want you. Exactly how much time I spend imagining you naked. Exactly how many dreams I’ve had about doing this.” He slid first one strap off her shoulder, and then the other.

  She swallowed. “There’s, um, one other thing.”

  “What?” he murmured, grazing the backs of his knuckles over the top of her breasts.

  Her breath hitched in her throat. His eyes were where his hand was, and watching him look at her with that much desire made her dizzy.

  “I…don’t know if you remember that day on the stairs. With Harry.”

  “I have a vague recollection, yeah.”

  “I’m not talking about the fall. Before I knew you were there, I said some things…to Harry…”

  He met her eyes then, smiling slowly. “‘I can bend my body in ways you can’t even imagine. I’ve got muscles in places you can’t even see. I could squeeze you so tight you’d think you were seeing God, and I could do it all night long.’ Is that what you’re talking about?”

  Her cheeks burned. “Yes. I just…I don’t want you to think that I’m, you know, great in bed or anything. I’m afraid that you’re expecting me to be…”

  “Adventurous? Exciting? A sexual dynamo?”

  He was enjoying this way too much. “Yes. I was mad at Harry and I said those things, but—”

  “Sara, do you not remember being with me in the coat closet? That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, and it had nothing to do with your flexibility or muscle tone. It was the best sex of my life because it was with you. The only thing I’m expecting—the only thing I want—is to be with you.”

  He reached around to the back of her dress and slid her zipper down. “I’m not looking for sexual gymnastics. Right now, in fact, I’d prefer to do all the work. I want to undress you, and look at you, and then I want to go down on you for a long, long time. And that’ll just be the beginning.”

  Heat bloomed inside her. “There are things I’d like to do to you, too.”

  “We’ll get to it,” he said softly, tugging her dress slowly down her torso. “We’ll get to everything.”

  And they did.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I’ve kept quiet for a week. A week.”

  Sara glanced at Emilio as the two of them stretched in the studio. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve got that glow about you, and I would have said something sooner except that I didn’t want to jinx it and I was hoping that you, my supposed best friend, would bring it up first. Plus, I’ve had my own love life to deal with.”

  “You are not going out with Sid again. I absolutely forbid it. He’s a nice guy, but he broke your heart.”

  “I slept with him last night.”

  “Emilio!”

  “I know. But I’d just like to point out the hypocrisy of you being critical of my romantic decisions when you haven’t even told me who you’re sleeping with. And don’t try to tell me you’re not sleeping with someone. Is it Jerry?”

  Sara grabbed her hand towel from the barre and wiped her face. “No.”

  When she looked at Emilio again, he was grinning at her. “Holy crap. Is it Nick?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sara! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She honestly wasn’t sure why she hadn’t told Emilio. Maybe it was just that she’d wanted to keep things private for a while, to bask in the glow of being with Nick without talking it over with anyone.

  The last seven days had been incredible.

  She closed her eyes as she thought about that morning, when Nick had brought her breakfast in bed. He seemed to enjoy feeding her as much as making love to her, and as Sara indulged herself in pancakes and syrup and bacon for the first time in years, she caught sight of Nick grinning at her over the newspaper he was reading on his side of the bed.

  “What?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing. I just can’t get enough of watching you eat.”

  “I’ve gained five pounds in the last two weeks and I don’t care. My God, this is good.”

  He leaned over and kissed her. “You taste so sweet.”

  “That’s the syrup.”

  “I don’t think it’s the syrup. I think it’s you.”

  Sara smiled to herself as she remembered the expression on Nick’s face when he said that. And then, all at once, she knew the reason she hadn’t told Emilio.

  “Oh, God.”

  “What’s wrong?” Emilio asked.

  “I’m in love,” she whispered. And then she burst into tears.


  * * *

  Nick caught himself whistling as he climbed the stairs to Sara’s apartment. He grinned, and glanced down at the huge bouquet of irises and tulips he was carrying. It was late, after nine o’clock, but the primary was tomorrow and he’d been with Keisha for her last stump speech.

  When he told Sara he’d be late she’d said it was no problem, and that it would be a good excuse to order pizza, which was her new favorite thing to do.

  His heart rate picked up as he climbed the last flight, and it wasn’t from the exercise. He got excited whenever he was about to see Sara. And it definitely wasn’t just the sex, although that was unbelievable. He loved hearing about her day and telling her about his. He loved sharing food with her, and watching movies with her, and walking through Central Park with her.

  Her door was ajar, and he heard the sound of laughter coming from inside her apartment. After a moment he recognized the other voice as his brother’s, and in spite of everything, he felt a twinge.

  Don’t be an idiot, he told himself. Then he went into the apartment, and his heart skipped a beat when Sara saw him and smiled like a sunrise.

  “How’s Keisha? Her speech was great—we watched it on cable access. She’s like a whole new woman.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  Sara shook her head firmly. “Thanks to everyone. Her family, and you, and all those people working so hard on her campaign.” She grinned. “I’m so excited to vote tomorrow. Emilio and I are going to the polls together.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Am I still invited to the campaign office tomorrow?”

  “Of course.”

  “And you don’t think it’ll be weird with Jerry?”

  “No, not at all.”

  Sara looked at him searchingly. “Are you all right?”

  And just like that, he was pissed. “I’m fine,” he snapped, knowing even as he said it that Sara didn’t deserve to be snapped at for the crime of being perceptive, and noticing that he’d spoken stiffly and that his mood was a little sour.

  And she definitely didn’t deserve to be snapped at because she was sitting in her living room eating pizza with his brother. Who was just as perceptive as Sara, and was looking at him right now with one eyebrow raised.