His tongue slides into my mouth as our kiss grows fiercer. It’s packed with heat and emotion, and dear God, this man can kiss.
I sit up and swing my leg over his so I’m straddling him, sliding my hands across his hard chest. My body feels electrified as he runs his hands down my back, pulling me against him roughly. I arch my back and let out a low moan as he kisses my neck, and I feel my nipples harden inside the cups of my lacy bra. I can’t remember ever wanting anyone this badly.
As his lips find mine again, I rock my hips against him, finding that he’s hard and . . . holy shit, he’s hung like a freaking horse.
“Nic . . .” I groan, pressing my hips forward.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” His voice is rough and growly, and oh my God, why is that so hot?
I don’t even know why I said his name, don’t know what it is I’m asking for. “You’re so hard,” I murmur.
He makes a groan of frustrated need, and my pulse riots in my throat. “I want you,” he admits, pressing one more quick kiss to my lips. “So fucking badly. But what I want and what I’ll let myself have are two very different things.”
My lust-soaked brain struggles to understand his meaning. But Nic continues, touching my cheek gently with his thumb.
“I’ve made too many mistakes. I need to do this the right way.”
I press my lips to his. He’s sweet. I think he’s saying he wants to go slow, but as far as I’m concerned, this is the fourth time I’ve been out with him. I’m ready to toss all my rules out the window.
I slip my hands beneath his shirt, running my fingers along his abs, but he pulls back. He stares deep into my eyes, and there’s that same conflicted look he had last Saturday night.
Nic swallows and takes a deep breath, then lifts me off his lap. He brushes a strand of hair out of my face and kisses me again, more sweetly this time, before pulling back again. Whatever inner conflict he’s fighting has won—for now, it seems.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” he says, standing and running his hands through his hair. “I had a great time. Can I walk you down to your car?”
I’m totally floored by the turn of events. I was sure we were headed for the bedroom, and I already have major lady blue balls. I try not to let him see my disappointment as I stand and pick up my purse, then follow him to the door.
“This was really amazing,” I say as we step into the elevator. We’re alone, and he lives on the nineteenth floor.
By the time we reach floor thirteen, I can’t resist. I turn to Nic and grab his shirt in a fist, pulling him to me. He wraps his arms around me as he slides his tongue into my mouth. We step back so I’m leaning against the wall of the elevator, and his hands run down my chest, gently brushing along my breasts.
I moan as his fingers graze my nipples, and am about ready to start pulling off clothes when the elevator dings. I have just enough time to regain my composure before the doors open to the lobby. There are a few people standing around, and as we walk past the doorman, he smiles at us, and I wonder if he can tell what we’ve been up to.
Once we reach my car, I turn to Nic, searching his eyes for signs. I don’t know why he keeps ending things before they go too far. I’m not sure what’s going on with us, because I’ve basically been throwing myself at him since we met.
Does he only want to be friends? But who kisses their friends like that? Maybe he’s just a gentleman, and he actually wants to get to know me before we sleep together.
“Thanks for everything,” I say as we reach my car. “You sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”
“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.” He smirks at me, his gaze playful.
I have to bite my tongue before I ask him when I’ll get to see it.
He gives me another quick kiss good-bye, sending a shot of heat between my legs before he pulls away. I’ve never gotten so many mixed signals from a guy before, but maybe it’s because I’ve only dated assholes who were trying to get me into bed as quickly as possible.
Despite my confusion, I know one thing for sure. I’m falling hard for Nic, and nothing—not even Christine’s disapproval—can bring me down from this high.
Chapter Fourteen
Nic
I pull open the microwave, and the smell of leftover pasta sauce makes my mouth water. There’s only one small serving left over from my date with Elle, and I figure I might as well eat it while I’m still in this post-Elle happiness haze. It feels a little like being drunk. Like I’m invincible. Like nothing in the whole fucking world can touch me.
The only thing keeping this feeling from being the best thing ever? My dick. He’s not happy with how last night ended.
Okay, maybe he’s not the only one.
I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up. I wanted her so badly last night. Walking her to her car instead of pounding her into a wall left me with a major case of blue balls. The worst part is I could tell that she wanted me too, and that only made the whole situation—and my cock—ten times harder.
She didn’t look upset when I didn’t take her to my bed, but I could tell she was confused. And the whole “I’m just a gentleman waiting for the right time” excuse will only work for so long. If I’m not careful, she’ll start to suspect that something’s up. And if she finds out the truth about me, only one thing will happen. I’ll lose her.
There’s no way I’m ready to let that happen. Not when I’ve finally found a sweet, cool, normal girl who checks off every box on my list.
I spoon the now warm leftover sauce onto a plate of cooked pasta just as my phone starts buzzing in my pocket. My brow furrows, and I set my plate down to answer it. Who the fuck is calling me on a Sunday afternoon?
My stomach drops when I see the name on the screen. Christine.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Hey, Christine, how are—”
“What the hell are you doing with Elle?” Her voice is angry, but firm. She’s trying to keep it under control. But there’s an edge to it that tells me she could lose it at any moment.
“Look, Christine, I—”
“No, Nic, you listen to me. I don’t know what you think you’re doing with her, but whatever it is, it’s not right. You were hired for one thing only—accompanying her to my wedding. Which was two weeks ago.”
I clench my jaw, pushing my hand roughly through my hair. “I know. You’re right. But I have to be honest with you. I really like her. More than I expected to.”
“She would never be with you if she knew what you were. You need to end this. I never would have set you up with her if I’d known you’d do something as fucked up as this.”
“Christine—”
But before I can finish, she hangs up, and the call disconnects.
“Fuck.”
I throw my phone onto the table and bury my face into my hands. She’s right. Christine is fucking right. I’m a horrible person. I can’t believe I’m doing this to Elle.
What the fuck is wrong with me? How did I think this was going to end?
That invincible feeling I had earlier? Fucking gone. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think that I was the right guy for Elle.