by Jenna Sutton
He moved to stand beside her as she gazed down at the necklace. He’d never bought a piece of jewelry for anyone, and he hoped he’d done a good job picking something Teagan would like.
“Nick, this is beautiful,” she said huskily before looking up at him. “You know, most women would say something like ‘It’s too much. I can’t accept it.’”
He shook his head. He wanted her to have it. He wanted to give her something special, something that would remind her of him.
“But I’m not most women,” she continued, a glint in her eyes he didn’t recognize. “I’m going to put it on and twirl around the room.”
He laughed. She was right. She wasn’t most women. She was one-of-a-kind.
Removing the necklace from the case, she turned so her back was to him. She bent her head forward until he could see the fine dark hairs at the nape of her neck. He wondered what those tendrils would feel like against his lips, and his mouth tingled.
“Would you take off my necklace so I can put this one on?”
He unclasped the emerald necklace, laying it on the bar. She handed him the one he’d bought her, and he draped it around her neck before closing the clasp.
He ran his finger lightly across the precious metal, and although he told himself he needed to stop, he stroked it along the slope of her shoulder, relishing the feel of her soft skin. She slowly turned to face him, and he dropped his hand.
Placing her palm over the necklace, she traced the gems with her fingers. “How does it look?” she asked, gazing up into his eyes.
He stepped back so he could get the full effect of the necklace. Ever since he’d seen it, he had thought about what it would look like around her neck, resting above the enticing swells of her breasts.
It looked even better than he’d imagined, and when he was alone in his bed late at night, he would think of her wearing nothing but this necklace. He would think of her on top of him, the diamonds glinting against her chest as she rode him, and her name would be on his lips when he came.
“Nick, how does it look?” she repeated.
Clearing his throat, he pressed his tongue against his front teeth to get his mouth to work. “Perfect.”
She smiled and twirled around, her arms outstretched and her head tilted back. Her dress belled outward at the motion, and he saw a flash of a garter belt and the tops of her stockings under it.
Seriously?
What woman wore a garter belt and stockings nowadays? Didn’t they all wear pantyhose, the least sexy undergarment in existence?
Nick squeezed his eyes shut, knowing his late-night fantasy now included a garter belt and stockings. And maybe the shoes. They were pretty hot, too.
Opening his eyes, he saw her stumble to a stop. She laughed as she teetered a little on her heels before making her way toward him. When she got close enough, she grasped his biceps, leaned up, and kissed his cheek. It was so close to his lips he felt as if she had kissed the corner of his mouth.
“Thank you so much,” she said as she drew back. “I will cherish this necklace. Always.”
She looked at him, and her lips quirked a bit. Reaching up, she swiped her thumb across the outer curve of his lips.
“Lipstick,” she explained before pointing to her own lips. “It’s a new color called ‘Inevitable.’ Do you like it?”
He imagined her on her knees in front of him with her “Inevitable”-shaded lips wrapped around his cock. Yeah, he liked it just fine.
* * *
Nick silently cursed Letty. It was her fault he and Teagan were having dinner in a restaurant better suited for lovers than friends. He should have known she’d been up to something when she had convinced him to change the reservation at the last minute from the restaurant he’d chosen to one her chef friend had recently opened.
Located in a trendy area of Boston, the restaurant was dubbed Plum, and now that he was there, he knew why. The entire décor was done in shades of plum, from the dark brownish-plum wood floors to the light lavender color on the walls.
It should have been ugly, but somehow it worked. In fact, the whole space was amazing.
He and Teagan were ensconced in a high-backed booth upholstered in dark purple velvet. It was encircled by floor-to-ceiling plum-colored curtains, and the filmy drapes created a sense of intimacy, along with the dim sconce lighting on the wall and the votive candles on the table.
The restaurant was beyond romantic. It gave off a sensual, sexy vibe, and if he and Teagan were more than friends, this was exactly the kind of place he would have taken her right before he took her back to his condo and stripped her out of that green dress.
Nick fought the urge to loosen his tie and pop the top button on his dress shirt. He was overheated and on edge, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to get through the rest of the evening without jumping on Teagan like a rabid dog.
He wondered if there was a way he could graciously get out of taking her to the club after dinner. Maybe he could fake a stomachache.
Every time he saw her, he promised himself it would be the last time. And yet he always broke his promise because he didn’t have the willpower to stay away from her. Somewhere—somehow—he was going to have to find some. Otherwise, he was going to ruin the best thing in his life.
“I’m so glad I’m spending my birthday with you. And I’m so excited about this club we’re going to later.”
Her eyes shone in the glow of the candles, and her luscious lips turned up in a small smile. She was happy, and he didn’t have the heart to disappoint her by cutting their night short just because he couldn’t stop thinking about her naked.
“This is such a unique restaurant,” she added. “It’s so . . .”
She pressed her lips together, clearly trying to come up with the right word to describe it. She gave a little shrug, which made her necklace—the one he’d given her—sparkle in the light.
“It’s so lush,” she said finally, nodding a little bit, as if she were agreeing with herself.
He stared at her, trying to keep his eyes on her face. She was lush, from her thick hair and plump lips to her ample breasts and curvy hips.
She took a sip of merlot, and he watched as her pink tongue darted out to swipe a rogue droplet of wine. His cock twinged, and he knew a full-fledged erection was only moments away if he continued to look at her lips. He pulled his gaze from her and fiddled with his silverware, just to keep his eyes off her.
“This is probably the last time I’ll get to have any fun for the next couple of weeks because midterms are coming up.”
He nodded. Teagan was a very dedicated student, and he knew she studied a lot. She claimed she had to hit the books hard to get good grades, but he doubted that was the truth. Without question, she was the smartest person he’d ever met. If brains were cars, Teagan’s was a Ferrari, while everyone else’s was a Ford.
“But after midterms, I am going to relax with a capital R. Bebe and I are going to Bora Bora for spring break, and we’re going to lie on the beach and drink margaritas.”
Nick imagined Teagan in a skimpy bikini, her breasts overflowing from two tiny triangles and her pussy barely covered by a strip of stretchy material. He cleared his throat to push back the moan that had built there.
Thank God she was going with Bebe. If she’d told him she was going with Marshall, he might have tracked down the other man and caused him bodily harm to prevent him from vacationing with Teagan.
“Marshall invited me to go skiing with him in Whistler, but I wanted to go somewhere warm,” she added.
He clenched his fingers around his knife. The relationship between Teagan and Marshall must be serious if the man had asked her to spend spring break with him. But if it was that serious, wouldn’t she have celebrated her birthday with Marshall instead of Nick? Wouldn’t she prefer to spend this special occasion with the other man?
Maybe they weren’t serious. Maybe they weren’t having sex.
Nick shook his head. There was no way a normal, red-blooded man could spend so much time with Teagan and not want to fuck her. God knew he wanted to, over and over again.
Teagan placed her hand over his, lightly squeezing his fingers. He looked up as she leaned forward, and his eyes dropped to her cleavage. The pale skin between her breasts seemed to shimmer, enticing him to taste it.
“Nick, are you okay? You’re even quieter than usual.” She grimaced. “I talked the whole way here, and now I’m talking some more. You’re probably bored to death.”
He shook his head. She never bored him. He found her fascinating, the way her mind worked and the way it led her from one thought to another. He loved to hear her voice, loved to learn her opinions on any subject, from potatoes to politics.
“Not bored,” he said emphatically.
She smiled and stroked the top of his hand. Her touch shot through him like an electric current, and he casually moved his hand away from her.
“So what did you do today?”
“Visited the kids.”
The first year he’d played for Denver, the team had partnered with the local children’s hospital for a charity dinner. All the players were required to attend the event, as well as a party at the hospital.
Being around the kids, even though they were sick, made him feel good. It was so easy to make them happy. They didn’t care if he could talk or not. They were just glad to see him.
From that moment on, he’d made a point to stop by at least once a week during off-season to hang out. When he’d moved to Boston, he had continued with his routine. He never scheduled the visits. He kept it low key because he didn’t want the media to make a big deal out of it.
He always brought a bag full of team gear to distribute and stayed to toss around a football or play videogames. Occasionally, he painted fingernails and toenails for the girly girls, and when his hair was long enough, he let them play beautician. More than once, he’d ended up looking like a Rastafarian.
“You have a hard candy shell and a gooey marshmallow center,” Teagan teased, a big grin on her face.
He frowned, disliking her description of him. Hanging out with sick kids didn’t make him a nice guy. He got more out of the visits than they did. He was too selfish to do something truly altruistic. He always had been, and he always would be.
Chapter 18
Why do these things always happen to me? And why do they have to happen when I’m with Nick?
Teagan stared down at the tall patent leather heel that had been attached to her shoe just seconds ago. Now it was stuck in a crack in the sidewalk.
She, meanwhile, had to suffer the freezing concrete in her stockinged feet because it was impossible to wear one five-inch heel and one flat shoe. Nick stood beside her, his hands on his hips and a bemused expression on his face.
“How the hell did that happen?” he asked, shaking his head.
She bent down to try to pull the heel from the sidewalk, and Nick jerked her upright, muttering a curse under his breath. He was a little rough with her, and she frowned. He’d been acting weird all night, and she didn’t have any idea why. It wasn’t as if she’d forced him to take her out for her birthday.
Squatting down, he wrenched the heel from the crack. As he rose, he handed it to her, and she wrapped her fingers around it, barely controlling the urge to impale herself with the sharp end.
Once again, her clumsiness had ruined an outing with Nick. One moment, they’d been talking as they waited for the valet attendant to bring his Escalade, and the next moment she had been hanging on to him for dear life as her heel snapped off.
Thanks to her faulty footwear, they wouldn’t be able to go to the club. She wouldn’t be able to sit close to Nick and listen to bluesy music. She wouldn’t be able to slow dance with him, their bodies pressed together so tightly she could feel his heat all around her.
She was so disappointed tears prickled the backs of her eyes. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth to push them back because she didn’t want Nick to see her cry, especially since he’d probably think she was sobbing over her stupid broken shoe.
The maroon SUV came to a stop in front of them, and Nick pulled open the door for her. She angrily tossed her shoes and purse in, and he raised a dark blond eyebrow before offering his hand and helping her into the vehicle.
Clicking her seat belt in place, she turned to look out the window. She wished she were someone else and somewhere else—maybe a tall, skinny blonde lounging in Nick’s bed.
Nick stepped into the SUV, and the valet attendant shut the door, cocooning them in silence. She shivered a little, and he turned on the heat full blast toward their feet.
“T, it’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice soothing. “Let’s grab another pair of shoes and then go to the club.”
“No,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.
He laughed softly at her pique, and she ground her teeth together in an effort to stop herself from yelling at him. Even though she knew it was irrational, she was burning mad at Nick. Why, she didn’t know.
She was so . . . so . . . so . . . hot for him. She was angry because she was sexually frustrated. She was a keg of dynamite just waiting to be lit, and Nick didn’t have a match.
She growled under her breath at that inaccurate statement. Nick had a match. He just didn’t have one for her keg. Marshall, on the other hand, definitely had one.
She’d been stupid to hope Nick would get a clue. He was never going to see her as anything but a friend, so she was going to go home, call Marshall, and let him do what he’d wanted to do for months.
“Stop,” she demanded. “I want to take a cab home.”
Nick slanted an amused glance toward her, which made her even angrier. She’d never thought she had a bad temper, but clearly, she had deluded herself. She felt all kinds of new emotions with Nick, and right now, aggression flooded her veins.
“No,” he said, his voice mild.
“Yes,” she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the SUV.
Turning his head, he speared her with his brilliant green gaze. His expression was no longer amused.
“No,” he repeated, and this time his voice wasn’t nearly so mild.
Knowing she had no choice, she pressed her lips together and turned away from him. They made the trip to her condo in silence, tension heavy in the SUV.
The moment Nick pulled up in front of her building, she grabbed her shoes and purse and jumped from his Escalade. She slammed the door shut without thanking him for a nice evening or even saying good-bye.
The sidewalk was freezing, and she hurried into the building. Stepping into the elevator, she hit the button for her floor before pulling her phone from her beaded clutch. As it ascended, she typed a text message to Marshall: Are you busy?
The elevator chimed, letting her know she’d arrived. The doors opened, and suddenly Marshall stood in front of her.
“Oh! I just texted you.” She stepped out of the elevator. “What are you doing here?”
She didn’t give him a chance to answer before stalking toward her condo. The moment she got him alone, she was going to rip off her clothes and his. She hoped he was ready because she was going to use his body all night long. And she wasn’t going to pretend she was with Nick, either.
Marshall fell into step beside her, gesturing toward her shoeless feet. “What happened there?”
“Nothing,” she answered curtly.
She unlocked her door, and Marshall followed her inside, closing the door behind them. She threw down her shoes beside the door and tossed her purse and coat on the bar once she reached the kitchen.
Marshall gave her an appraising glance, starting at her feet and ending with her eyes. “You look gorgeous, Teagan. Absolute
ly stunning.”
She frowned. She’d spent four hours getting ready, and Nick hadn’t said one word about her appearance. Not one freaking word about her gorgeous new dress or her sexy new shoes, which were clearly defective.
She’d paid $427 for those damn patent leather heels, and she was going to demand her money back. But not until she’d spent all night having sex with Marshall.
“I stopped by to say hello, but it looks like you were out on a date.” He shook his head slightly. “This might not be the right time to talk about it, but I don’t want you to date other guys. I want us to be exclusive.”
Teagan closed her eyes. She didn’t want to have this conversation, not now, not when she was so emotional. She wasn’t sure she had the finesse to say no without hurting his feelings.
“Marshall, it wasn’t a date,” she said, a placating note in her voice. “I was out with Nick for my birthday. We’re just friends, you know that.”
Even as she said it, she knew she lied. Nick was the reason why her relationship with Marshall had stalled.
He shook his head before gesturing toward her dress. “A woman doesn’t dress like that to go out with a friend. You don’t even dress like that to go out with me.”
She looked away, unable to dispute Marshall’s claim. He was right. She only dressed this way for one man. She only bought sexy lingerie and new clothes for Nick. She only bought do-me heels for Nick.
Nick. Only Nick.
Marshall looked toward the gift bag and the jewelry box on the bar before eyeing her. “Did Nick give you that necklace?”
She touched the cool gems encircling her neck. “Yes.”
She had been surprised Nick had bought her a birthday present, although she didn’t know why exactly. He had bought her gifts before—the jersey, the knitted cap, the cuddly bear.
But she had been more than surprised when she’d opened the box. She had been nearly speechless. Except for himself, he couldn’t have given her a gift she would have liked more.
She’d never seen a more exquisite piece of vintage jewelry in her whole life, and she had seen a lot. She had no doubt he’d spent a lot of money on the gift, probably more than most people’s annual salaries.