by Claire Adams
I got up and went over to him. He poured us each a cup of steaming coffee and asked what I took in mine. “Black is fine,” I told him. He handed me a delicate cup and then fixed his own with cream and sugar. As I sipped the dark, bitter coffee, my body temperature continued to rise. I felt a trickle of sweat begin to roll slowly from my hairline down the side of my face. I reached up quickly to wipe it away, but Nicholas saw it.
“Can I ask why you would rather be uncomfortable than take off your sweater?”
Again, I smiled nervously. I was a terrible liar. When I was a kid, every time I tried to lie to one of my nannies, or even my parents, I was caught. Clearing my throat, I said, “I’m embarrassed.”
“About? I know you’re not talking about the beautiful body you’re hiding underneath there.”
I felt myself blush. “You know how I told you that I’d been ill?”
“Yes.”
“I lied,” I said. A quick look of worry crossed his face before I said, “The truth is that I’m a terrible klutz and I fell down the stairs of my apartment building.”
“Oh no! Did you get hurt?”
“I’m just a little bruised up,” I told him. That part was true. “I was trying to hide the bruises. I feel so silly, and I didn’t want you to know how little grace I have.”
He shook his head and leaned forward and sat his cup down on the table. “Show me,” he said. I sat my own cup down and unbuttoned the one button I had fastened on the sweater. I pushed it down off my shoulders. On my right arm, just below the t-shirt I was wearing, was a dark-blue bruise about the size of my fist. I heard Nicholas wince. “That looks bad. Did you go to the hospital?”
“No, nothing is broken, just sore.”
He leaned down and placed his lips gently against the bruise. My body shook almost violently at that simple brush of his lips. He pulled his head back up and looked into my eyes. “Where else?” he asked.
I reached down and pulled up the t-shirt on the side where I’d fallen into the side of the couch. That bruise was about six inches long and two or three inches wide across my ribs. It was still dark, almost black. When Nicholas let his eyes drop to it, his face was instantly drawn as if he felt the pain himself.
I saw that he intended to kiss that one as well and I sucked in a hard breath as he lowered his head to my side. The soft brush of his lips tickled and the heat from them sent goosebumps skittering across my skin. He pulled his head up and his eyes held more concern for me that I’d ever felt from a single person in my life. “I wish you would have been checked out by a doctor. I could have one come here.”
Without thinking about it, I dropped my blouse and raised my hand to the side of his face. I was just so touched by his concern. “Thank you, but I’m really okay.”
“Any more?”
“A few small ones,” I told him. “Really nothing to worry about.” I still had my hand on his face. When I started to move, it was quickly covered by his. He held my hand there and brought his lips down so they hovered just above mine. He was searching my eyes, looking for permission.
I knew it had to be there. I wanted him to kiss me so badly. He obviously found what he was looking for because he crushed his soft, warm lips to mine and kissed me. I wasn’t sure what to do or how to kiss back, but instinctively, I let my own lips part and felt his tongue snake into my mouth.
His hand dropped to my waist as the other moved up my back and he took a handful of curls into his fist and used it to hold my head in place. I surrendered to him completely as his tongue swirled lightly across every surface in my mouth and danced against my inexperienced one. My body began to melt into his and I could feel his hard muscles through his shirt as he pressed into me.
The kiss went on and on, with him taking breaks every so often to lick across my lips and suck one in lightly between his teeth. It felt amazing, and the heat from his lips worked its way down my body in a trail that culminated in a burst of flames between my thighs. I was shaking all over, but with desire, not fear.
The hand he was holding my hair with was suddenly sliding down the side that wasn’t bruised and lightly brushing against the sides of my breasts. No one had ever touched me there. It felt wonderful, and I wanted more.
When Nicholas finally broke the kiss, he locked his eyes onto mine again and I could almost see a fire burning in them. I liked that he wanted me so badly that I could see it. Shamelessly, I dropped my own eyes to his lap and saw that his pants could now hardly contain the evidence of just how badly he wanted me.
“Emma,” he whispered my name, and for the first time in six months, I was tempted to tell someone to call me by my real name. I wanted to hear “Ariana” on his lips.
I resisted that urge, however, partly thanks to the fact that once he’d caught his breath, he brought his lips right back down against mine. I moaned into him with need and that seemed to spur him on. He kissed me harder that time, and I kissed him back as well as I could, hoping that I was doing it okay.
That time when he broke the kiss, I felt almost dizzy and my eyes took a few moments to focus. I must have had a strange look in them because he whispered, “Are you okay, Emma?”
I giggled nervously like a kid. It was embarrassing. “I’m so much better than okay. That kiss was…well, it was incredible.”
He smiled. His face was so close to mine that I couldn’t just hear what he was saying, I could feel it. It was intimate and sexy. “It was for me, too,” he said. “You’re shaking, though. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded. Here was the point that I needed to tell him that I’m a virgin. I was afraid it would make him not want me, but it wasn’t something I’d be able to hide for much longer I was afraid. “Nicholas?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve never been with a man.”
He pulled his head back quickly and looked at my face as if to see if I was kidding. He stared at me for a long time before finally saying, “Never? You haven’t done anything at all?”
I shook my head. “That was my first real kiss.”
I couldn’t read the look in his eyes. I wasn’t sure if he was happy, horrified, or a little of both. I waited for what seemed like an eternity before he said, “How is that possible? How old are you, Emma?”
“I’m 21,” I told him. He winced slightly at that. “I just led a sheltered life before I came to Las Vegas.”
“I knew you were a lot younger than me. I guess I hadn’t thought about just how young.”
I boldly reached for his hand, and he let me take it. Looking into his eyes I said, “I don’t have any experience with this, but I am old enough to know what I want and what I need.”
He cleared his throat, and his voice was raspy as he asked me, “What is it that you want and need, Emma?”
“You, Nicholas. I want you.”
He groaned. I could tell that he was struggling with the conflict between what he desired and what he felt was right. It made me respect him that much more. He wasn’t jumping at the offer I was putting out there on a silver platter without thinking it through.
“I’m not sure I’m the right choice for you for your first time, Emma. Can I ask, why me? I mean, looking at you, it has to be obvious that I’m not your first offer. I’d be willing to bet you’ve had at least dozens of them, if not more. So…why me?”
I shook my head and said, “I honestly don’t know. That day when you came in for your photos, I felt it. I’d never felt anything like that before. It wasn’t simple attraction. It was like a magnetic pull. Then tonight, talking to you and getting to know you more just convinced me that you were the kind of man that I’d be proud to give myself to.”
He smiled. “You are so different from any woman I’ve ever known.”
“Different good or bad?”
He chuckled. “Definitely good. I can’t help but worry that this is an impulsive offer from you and you might just regret it in the morning. I’d hate to know I made you feel that way.”
I mov
ed my hand from underneath his and ran it up his arm to his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch with another groan as I caressed his cheek. “I can’t imagine regretting any time I spend with you.”
He leaned down and captured my lips. This time the kiss was not just hungry: it was starving. His hands were also suddenly all over my body, and it felt so good. My panties were soaking wet, and I knew that the only regret I’d have where he was concerned would be that this was likely our only night together. Tomorrow, I would have to deal with Miguel’s wrath. I was prepared to do that and I was prepared to do what Nicholas and I both had on our minds.
Nicholas suddenly lifted me up, and as he slid over, he placed me up on his lap facing him. His lips went to my neck and my fingers to the buttons on his shirt. I groped at each button with shaking fingers until I had the shirt opened, and then I pressed my palms against his hard, sculpted chest. He moaned into my flesh as I ran my hands down over his nipples and across his hard abdomen.
He kissed and licked his way down to the top of my t-shirt and then his hands went to the hem of it, and I shook even harder as I felt him pushing it up. I wasn’t going to back down now. I held up my arms and let him pull it off me. A low rumble came from his chest as he looked at me in my lacy bra before his lips were busy again, kissing across the swell of them.
I was so caught up in the feelings that I could hardly breathe. When he reached down inside the bra and touched one of my nipples, I jumped nearly off his lap. He looked up and smiled as he reached around behind me and unhooked the bra. I sat up straight and let it fall off my arms. He sucked in a breath and then looked back up at my face. “You are perfect, Emma. So beautiful.”
He leaned down and I felt the tip of his tongue against one of my hard nipples. I let out a little cry as he licked all the way around it. Then, he flicked the tip of it before putting his mouth all the way over and sucking the entire thing into his mouth. My hands went to his hair and I stroked it with my fingers as he pleasured me first on one side and then the other.
I was squirming against him, getting wetter by the second as his bulge rubbed into me, pressing my jeans and wet panties up against my swollen clit. I’d masturbated many times. Nothing I’d ever rubbed my clit with myself felt that good. I was almost embarrassingly humping against him at that point.
He kissed, licked, or sucked every surface of each one of my breasts before at last bringing his lips back up to mine. He kissed the corner first before attacking my mouth with his tongue and teeth like a plundering army. I loved it and I was slowly getting more confident in the kisses I gave him back.
That went on for what seemed like forever, and I wondered how long it would be until he took me to his bedroom. When he broke the long kiss, it took him several minutes to catch his breath. He ran his eyes over me again and said, “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I almost can’t control myself around you.”
I was confused. What was he trying to control? “You don’t have to,” I told him. “I want you so badly, Nicholas.” To prove my point, I squirmed down against his hard erection again.
He let out a long groan and then using both of his hands on my hips, he lifted me off him and stood up. I was sitting sideways. I straightened myself on the couch and waited to see what he planned on doing. He bent down to pick up my bra and t-shirt and handed them to me with a pained expression on his face.
“I want you to think about this a little more. If this is still what you want after the gala on Friday, I promise you to make it a night you won’t ever forget.”
“But, I’m ready tonight,” I said breathlessly.
He smiled as he took my hands and pulled me to my feet. He pressed his lips into my forehead and when he pulled back, he said, “You have no idea how much willpower it is taking me to resist that offer. Emma, when you said that you felt that chemistry the first day, I could completely understand because I felt it, too. I’ve never felt anything even remotely like that. I’m sure that I won’t be satisfied with one night with you, and I’m sure that you’re not a one-night stand kind of girl. I want more, so I want to be absolutely sure that you’re not going to wake up in the morning with regrets.”
I nodded slowly. I was disappointed, but still in awe of him and how respectful he was of me and my feelings. He didn’t even know that I was a princess and yet he was already treating me like one.
CHAPTER EIGHT
NICHOLAS
Taking Emma home that night and leaving her there was one of the hardest things I had ever had to do. I wanted her so badly that my cock was not all that ached; my entire body was involved in the feelings I had for her.
I didn’t just want to fuck her. I wanted to ravage her. I wanted to make love to every part of her body, inside and out. I wanted to take all night long with her and maybe into the next day. I thought about how she felt in my lap and smiled. Definitely into the next day.
The only worry I had was her state of mind once she’d given the virginity she’d held onto for twenty-one years away to a thirty-five-year-old man she barely knew. I’d never been with a virgin, but I was smart enough to know that a woman never forgets her first time. I never wanted Emma to regret her first time with me.
I drove through the still crowded streets of Las Vegas at nearly one a.m. back toward the penthouse. My cock was still aching in my shorts when I got home. I was exhausted, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to go to sleep without a very cold shower or a very hard come – or both.
I got out of the car in front of the hotel and handed my keys to the valet. As I did, I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of a long, black car with darkly tinted windows.
I’d seen it before this week – twice. Both times, like now, it was parked almost in the same place. The tinted windows were all up, but I had a creepy feeling there was someone inside, watching me.
Instead of going inside my hotel, I jogged over to the edge of the street. The traffic was still heavy and it took me a few minutes to get to the center divider. I was about to jog from there over to the car and find out who was in it and why they were watching me when it took off.
“Shit!”
“Sir?” James, my bodyguard on duty, had followed me home from Emma’s. I rarely saw them. My bodyguards were some of the best in the business. But, any time I needed them, they were there.
“Did you see that car?”
“Yes, sir. When I saw you looking at it, I wrote down the plate number.”
I smiled. These guys were better than good: They were amazing. I’d resisted the bodyguard thing for a long time. After I’d been drugged once by a woman that was apparently trying to get pregnant with my child and I was robbed, beaten, and left for dead in an alley, I had to give in. “Great. Find out who is in there.”
“Yes, sir. Do you want me to talk to them?”
“No. Let me know what you find out. I’d like to talk to them myself.”
“Yes, sir.” James jogged back across the busy street with me and waited until I was inside before he left. Once again, although I didn’t see him, I knew Trent would be taking over once I was in house.
I liked how invisible they were. It made having a private life a hell of a lot easier…not that I’d had one of those in a long time. I thought about Emma. Suddenly a private life was a lot more appealing than it had ever been.
********
I was in the boardroom the next morning after wrapping up a long and arduous meeting when James stuck his head in the door. “Are you busy, sir?”
“Not at the moment. Come in, James.”
“Here is the info on the car.” He handed me the paper and my eyebrows went up as I read it. “Yeah, heavy stuff,” he said.
“Definitely. Why in God’s name would an advisor to a king of all things be in Las Vegas following me around?”
“I could find out, sir.” James was six-foot six and about three hundred pounds of solid muscle. Kids and animals were drawn to him. He had a soft voice and a gentle n
ature. I’ve seen him break a man’s arm without breaking a sweat or raising his voice. I’m sure he could find out. I was aching to do it myself, though. I think it had something to do with my own boredom.
“I’d still like to talk to him myself,” I told him. “Do you know where he’s staying?”
He nodded, and with a sour look he said, “Giannola’s.” I groaned. The thought of going into one of that asshole’s hotels nauseated me.
“The one on the strip?”
“No, sir, Fremont Street.”
“Okay, good. The old man is rarely at that one. You feel up to taking a drive with me?”
“I’d love to, sir.”
James and I were driven by my chauffer to Giannola’s tacky little resort on Fremont Street.
We made our way through the lobby and to the elevator. Once on the elevator, James pushed the button for the top floor. The diplomat was occupying the penthouse on the 30th floor. I had to wonder why a rich politician from Spain would choose Giannola’s as a place to stay while in Vegas.
As soon as James and I stepped off the elevator, we were surrounded by four, large men in black suits. I’d long ago stopped being intimidated by big guys in suits and I don’t believe James had ever been intimidated by anyone. I smiled. “Hello, gentlemen. I’m Nicholas Vansant. I’d like to speak to Mr. Esparza.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“No, but I’m sure he’ll see me. Just tell him it will be easier talking to me in person than it is to sit in the car and watch me.”
Two of the guys looked at each other. I’m guessing they’ve had “watch” over me once or twice. They whispered something to each other back and forth in Spanish. I speak fluent French and Italian, so I understood a little of what they were saying. What I knew translated into proof that they’d been watching me and they were well aware of who I was.