Chapter 14
I unlocked the front door and made an exaggerated gesture inside like I was a chauffeur.
Nicola passed through, and, without warning, smacked my ass on the way in.
I yelped. Spine stiff, my face burned as he moved straight to the bedroom with his luggage.
My hand went to my cheek that still stung and I rubbed over it idly.
"What was that for?" I called after him.
"You deserved it," he replied over the 'zzt' sound of his luggage opening.
I turned on the oven to preheat and pulled out a frozen ziti casserole I made last week. It was supposed to be for Dad, it was one of his favorite dishes Mom made. But he told me couldn't stomach it.
It was nice knowing I would have someone else to share my cooking with. I caught myself smiling at the thought.
I moved into the bedroom and found Nicola carefully bringing out his clothes. I pulled out a dresser drawer that was half empty since I hadn't done laundry in a while, and took the rest out. I helped him hang up his suit jackets and trousers.
Nicola brought five suits. Which begged the question– just how many fucking black suits did a man need? They all looked exactly the same to me.
More importantly, did it mean he planned on staying a really long time?
I showered first. My pajamas of choice were sparse again, a camisole, booty shorts. I wore a black lace thong beneath.
It was the only lingerie I had left. The rest was tossed when my divorce finalized. At the time, I convinced myself I would never willingly go near another man again.
It wasn’t like I had any idea I would be thrust back into Nicola Moretti’s life.
A few minutes later, Nicola emerged from the bathroom like some dark angel, absently scrunching the water from his hair with a towel.
He hadn’t bothered putting on anything except a pair of black briefs. I watched him cross the living room toward me, unhurried and completely unaware of the effect he had on me.
A few stray droplets of water traced paths over tattooed skin before disappearing beneath his waistband.
No, he wasn’t built like Michael-- he wasn’t all brute strength and broad shoulders.
Nicola was different. Elegant, lean, but no less dangerous. The kind of handsome that made people stare a second too long without realizing they were doing it. Like me. Every fucking day.
My pulse sky rocketed as I drifted toward him, pulled into his orbit. The moment I reached him, we folded into each other and I could have wept.
His flesh was warm and supple from the shower, his arms held me so tightly I could actually delude myself into believing he was just as happy as I was.
“You smell nice,” I murmured.
“Use my soap next time you shower.” He pulled back just enough to brush a kiss across my lips. “I have it imported from France.”
“That might be the most un-gangster sentence in history.”
Nicola snorted and smacked my ass again, making me jolt.
"Keep cracking your jokes, Abs," he whispered in my ear. "I’ll introduce you to a whole new world where people spend irresponsible amounts of money on the dumbest shit and you'll love it.”
“I don’t need your fancy soap.”
“No?”
“No.” I wrapped my arms tighter around his waist and rested my cheek against his chest, smiling when I heard the quick rhythm of his heartbeat beneath. “Or your money.”
Nicola's chin settled on top of my head. “Just use the soap, anyway.”
"Why?"
“I like the thought of you smelling like me."
I laughed softly. “I think I already do. Your cologne is everywhere, here.”
His warm mouth found my neck again and trailed down my shoulder. “Good. I like that, too. Keeps the creeps away.”
“There are no men creeping around me, Nicky," I said wryly.
"Please.” He kissed just below my ear where he knew I was sensitive. “I know my brother. He came onto you, didn’t he?”
“Yeah. Jokingly. At his age, you flirted with everything that moved, too.”
Well… almost everything. The thought slipped in before I could stop it. Even now, I still didn’t understand why I’d been the exception.
Before I knew what he was doing, Nicola lifted me effortlessly onto the kitchen counter. My legs instinctively parted around him and he stepped between them.
Our mouths met again and we kissed, slowly, gloriously languid. His hands caressed up my sides before settling against my waist.
“You are fucking beautiful, Aubergine.”
My heart squeezed tight. It wasn’t so much the words, but the conviction in his voice. The same certainty he used in the stairwell when he called me family. The same certainty when he’d promised he’d never hurt me.
The trouble was… Nicola had no idea of the pain he could– would inflict.
He would never hurt me on purpose. But I knew full well this beautiful, hopeless man was going to break my heart without ever meaning to.
And somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not tonight.
Fuck it. If I was going to get my heart broken, I might as well enjoy the good parts.
We kissed again, I threw my arms around him this time and greedily took, took, took. I liked his hands on me. I wanted him to explore.
“You are such a tease with this–” he mused, tugging on the camisole. "It's almost see through."
“Would you prefer I wear a Nun’s habit instead?”
I saw his cheeks round even as he bent down to kiss the tops of my breasts. His fingers grasped the hem, then lightly tugged.
I let him pull the camisole off and by instinct, crossed my arms over my front.
“You know, I lied before,” he mused. “I saw everything the other day. You don’t need to hide.”
“Oh, my God,” I whispered with shut eyes. “You are the worst.”
My eyes opened again to witness Nicola smile like the devil. He tapped my forearms in encouragement.
Slowly, nervously, I lowered my arms to my side.
Cool air touched my skin, made my nipples pebble while he took me in. Nicola exhaled hard and slowly through pursed lips.
He bent down as one of his palms cupped my breast. His tongue drew confident lines over the curve, then his mouth took in one of the hardened peaks.
My hand braced onto the counter; I tried to keep my sounds quiet, but everywhere his mouth touched was like running electricity through my body, making me writhe, wet and flushed.
“Do you like to be touched like this?” he asked before his tongue teased over the tip again.
I nodded mutely.
“Where else?” he pressed.
“Everywhere," I wheezed.
He huffed a soft laugh as his fingers drew up my arms and down again. “You are the most loud-mouthed, strong-headed brat I’ve ever known in my life. And now you’re shy?”
“I…” My face probably resembled the color of a fire engine at this point. “I don’t want to disappoint you, Nicky.”
He had been with so many women. And my experience was… sparse. Kind of lame.
Nicola's thumb traced a slow circle against my side as he studied me. “Aubergine. Those women... it wasn’t real.”
“What does that mean?”
He studied the ceiling for a second. “It's just what you do. You show up together. You go to dinners. People see you with beautiful women. They talk. It’s like a commodity.”
“So you never...” I wasn’t even sure how to finish the sentence, or what word I was searching for.
“Cared?” he supplied, and I nodded.
His mouth twisted. “Not like that.”
“And… me?” I asked quietly. “Am I just a commodity like them, too?”
Nicola didn’t have an answer. He stared blankly like his brain had shut down and wasn't restarting.
“You’re… you.”
When he didn’t clarify, I sputtered out a laugh. “That’s not an answer.”
“I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck with uncertainty. “You're different. Everything’s easier with you. My head is chaos all the time, Abby.”
He frowned slightly, as if surprised he’d admitted a weakness aloud. Our eyes met. “But when I’m with you, it stops. I sleep. I mean, I haven’t actually slept like that in years.”
Oh, I was so fucked.
Nicola would never use a term like love. I doubted he would even use it with his brothers. At the moment, I wasn’t entirely convinced he understood what that word meant.
But in his own strange, carefully coded world… I think this was as close as he could get.
And all I could wonder was how long it would take before this situation started to feel too real for Nicola.
Before he packed up his suitcase and then left me.
“Okay,” I whispered, desperately fighting the pressure behind my eyes. “I do like your money, though. A little bit. I’ve been wanting one of those fancy Dyson vacuums that are cordless.” I made a hoovering motion with my hand to illustrate what I was talking about.
He snorted. “Vacuums can wait. Brace your hands on the counter and lift your hips.”
“Why?”
I did what he asked, and my sexy panties were discarded at the exact same time as my pajama shorts. He didn’t even get to see them!
Nicola didn’t answer my question and I began to panic as my legs pressed tightly together.
“Nicky! The lights are all on. I’m…”
“Exposed?” He interjected. “To me? Yes, you are. Now, spread your legs out wide.”
Nicola knelt down.