Chapter 10 #2
Pressing a hand to my chest, I turn to see Nix standing by the long table across the hall. “God, you scared me.”
“Sorry.” He chuckles, sliding his hands into his pockets in a way that makes him look like the furthest thing from a potential turd.
Seriously, this man should not be allowed to wear a tuxedo in public.
He’s a threat to marriages and panties everywhere.
“I needed a break from the crowd. So, when I saw you head for the ladies’, I decided to stalk you and tell you how hot you look in that dress again. ”
I grin, ambling over to straighten his slightly crooked bowtie. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”
He arches a brow as his gaze slides down to my lips. “Really? I’m not a big fan of murder collar.”
“But you look good in murder collar,” I say, patting the tie one last time before stepping back, needing some distance from the hormone-rattling smell of him. “Frederica wanted me to thank you for introducing Dean to that agent, by the way.”
Nix blinks. “Oh. Well, yeah. Of course. No problem. I was happy to. Noel actually said he has an audition for me next week.” He exhales a slightly awkward laugh. “It’s for some kind of arnica pain relief cream for old people, but…”
“But you like old people.” I wink as I add, “Just look at how well we get along.”
He shoots an exaggerated scowl my way. “Stop calling yourself old. You’re a fox, and…”
I cock my head. “And?”
“And I missed you this week,” he murmurs, making my heart flutter.
Silly heart.
I tell it how silly it is. And how old—at least in comparison to a man nearly ten years our junior—but it doesn’t care. It still wants to hurl itself out of my chest and into Nix’s big, sexy hands.
We stand there for a beat too long, the air going tight.
Finally, I force myself to reply in a “just friends” voice, “I missed you, too. We have good talks.”
“We do,” he agrees. “I really value your perspective on things. Which is why…” He breaks off with a laugh and another grin, the crooked, self-conscious one that makes my heart do more silly things.
“This is going to sound like a cheesy pick-up line, but I swear I’m for real.
Would you mind swinging by my place really quick before I take you home?
I’ve been trying to pick a new paint color for the living room for weeks, but so far all I have are four giant slash marks on the wall.
I promised the painter I’d pick a color by tomorrow, but I seriously can’t decide what goes best with the furniture.
You’re a classy human with excellent taste, so, do you think you could, maybe… do a man a solid?”
Do a man a solid…
I would prefer to just “do” the man. Period. I’m pretty sure Nix would be just fine with that, too, judging by the way his eyes keep drifting to my lips like he’s dying to have me for dessert, but…
“Sure,” I say, ignoring the inner voice already giving me shit for walking into a sex trap with my eyes wide open. “I can do that. No problem.”
His gaze floods with a mixture of happiness and something warmer I try not to examine too closely. But whatever it is makes me feel very fizzy inside as he offers me his arm, asking, “So, should we blow this pop stand?’
“We should.” I hook my hand through his arm, fingers curling into his bicep.
Then, I do my best not to think about how much I enjoyed leaving teeth marks on this same bicep the last time we banged like bunnies on my back porch.
Spoiler alert: This does not go well.
The drive to his penthouse takes eighteen minutes.
I spend all of them replaying our greatest sex hits over and over in my mind.
By the time he rests his hand at the small of my back, guiding me toward the elevator in his building’s pristine parking garage, my panties are in quite a state.
A state I know would make him very, very happy if he knew…
Inside his apartment, I’m surprised by the mixture of sleek and old-world mixing in his large main room.
The flow of the simply furnished living room into the open kitchen is textbook contemporary luxury, but the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf on the main wall is an early twentieth-century Art Nouveau throwback of gorgeous walnut arranged with the love of a true bibliophile.
“So, what do you think?” he asks, dropping his tux jacket on the back of the couch as he motions toward the accent wall opposite the shelves.
I spin, considering the swaths of paint in the dim glow of the recessed lighting that turned on automatically as we entered the space.
“The woman at the store said anything but gray is going to wreck my potential resale value,” he adds, “but I’m digging the pale sage. The melon honestly isn’t bad, either, though probably a little feminine for a man who lives alone.”
I turn back to him, not at all surprised to find his murder collar undone and him much closer than he was a moment before. “The gray is soulless and safe. The sage and melon are both perfect in different ways. You shouldn’t doubt your instincts.”
He arches a challenging brow. “No?”
Cursing myself for walking into yet another trap, I shoot back. “Don’t.”
His lips twitch. “Don’t what?”
“You know what,” I murmur, but when he moves in close, so close his body heat wraps around me and his delicious Nix smell floods my head, I don’t even think about stepping back.
“I don’t know much right now,” he says, the husky note in his voice enough to make my nipples tight. “Except that I would give up every collector’s edition on that shelf to kiss you right now.”
I pull in a shaky breath, my entire body tingling.
Because I know how much he loves books.
And I know he means it.
And I know there’s no way I’m leaving here without begging him to fuck me on that library ladder in the corner.
I honestly can’t say who moves first, but suddenly we flow together like halves of a river kept apart too long as a dam comes crashing down.
Our lips collide—hot and hungry—and I fist his dress shirt in both hands, clutching hard enough to make my knuckles ache. This isn’t polite or careful or anything that can be mistaken for “PR boyfriend kissing his PR girlfriend.”
This is eat the forbidden fruit and wreck me on your sexy library ladder energy.
“We promised we wouldn’t,” I breathe.
“Just once more,” he growls back as he kisses me across the room.
I’m about to protest the fact that we’re moving away from the ladder when my bottom bumps up against the kitchen island. I feel the edge bite into me, sharp and perfect, and instantly decide the ladder can wait.
“Okay, just once,” I pant against his mouth, already reaching for the close of his pants. “Just to boost morale.”
“Fuck yes,” he agrees, teeth grazing my bottom lip. “Nothing boosts my morale like your pussy squeezing my cock in half.”
Breath rushing out with a ragged, hungry sound, I challenge, “Then why am I still standing, buddy?”
With a tight laugh, he palms the back of my thighs, hoisting me up onto the counter with an ease that makes my head spin.
I’m not a big woman, but he makes me feel tiny, like I’m made of tissue paper and glitter, like some delicate party décor.
But he also makes me feel so human. So animal.
I don’t know that I’ve ever been this in touch with my own hunger as I am when I’m with him.
The world narrows to the heat of his mouth on mine. His tongue. His taste. His hands shoving my skirt up to my hips as he steps between my legs.
“Can’t go slow the first time. Want you too fucking much,” he says, his hips pressing forward until I can feel every hot, aching inch of him through our clothes.
Until I’m cursing myself for losing the battle against whatever hook-and-catch mechanism is keeping these tuxedo pants in place…
I work open the buttons on his shirt instead, begging, “Pants. Off. Take them off. They’re trying to thwart me.”
“Bossy, woman.” His mouth drags to my jaw, my throat, that spot near my clavicle that always makes me shiver. “I need to show your nipples how much I missed them first, everyone knows that.”
I arch into him, laughing and wincing at the same time. “I would usually agree, but seriously, Baylor, I’m—”
The sound of a key scraping in the front door cuts through the sex fog.
We both freeze, and I hiss, “Roommate?”
“Fuck no,” Nix hisses back.
“Baylor?” A female voice calls out as the door swings open just around the corner in the small entryway. “You home? I found my key! The one I thought I lost.”
“Shit. My little sister.” Nix jerks back, and I scramble to pull my skirt down as I slide off the counter.
I’m still wobbling in my heels when a young woman rounds the corner into the main room, pulling a small red suitcase, a guitar case strapped to her back. She’s pretty—mid-twenties maybe, with light brown hair in a long, messy braid and the same big, dark eyes as Nix.
When she spots us panting in the kitchen, they get even bigger.
“Oh shit.” She giggles. “Wow. My timing obviously sucks. I’m so sorry.
” She backs away, lifting a hand in the air in surrender.
“I’ll go find a hotel and grab a drink in the quarter or something.
Pretend I was never here. You guys are good!
Get you some and all that. Sex positivity all the way! Go Team Banging!”
“Bea, stop,” Nix says, his voice tight but amused. “It’s fine. And don’t be crazy, there’s no way I’m letting you go to a hotel. I’m so glad to see you. I just wish you’d told me you were coming so I could get things ready. I didn’t think you had a break from the tour until Christmas.”
“Um, well…yeah. That’s technically still true, but we can talk about that later.
” Her smile looks more forced as she adds, “After we toast! To you two being so pretty together and so cool about a bratty kid sister interrupting your night.” Shifting her focus fully my way, she adds, “I’m Beatrice, his little sister and general pain in the ass. ”
“Charlotte,” I say warmly. “So nice to meet you. How long are you going to be in town?”
“You aren’t a pain in the ass,” Nix cuts in before Bea can respond, “but you are cagey as fuck. Not to mention a shitty liar. What’s going on? Just tell me. Anything you need to say is fine to share with Charlotte. She’s a vault.”
Bea exhales a long breath, her smile wobbling a bit as she says, “Okay, fine. I broke up with Kai. Loudly. Dramatically. The way artsy-fartsy people do shit like that.” To me, she adds, “I’m in a band with my boyfriend.
Well, my ex-boyfriend now.” Glancing back to Nix, she flashes another megawatt grin that feels slightly unhinged.
“Which I know you’re thrilled about, so don’t even bother saying you’re sorry to hear it. ”
“I’m sorry to hear it was loud and dramatic,” Nix says, a scowl digging into his forehead. “Are you okay?”
She rubs a hand over her hair, rolling her eyes with a laugh.
“I’m fine. Deep down, I knew we weren’t going to end up all happily ever after.
I was hoping we’d get through the tour without crashing and burning, but…
whatever. We have a week before the next show.
Plenty of time to cool off and figure out how things work with Kai and me as friends or…
” She trails off, her throat working before she adds, “I’m sorry I didn’t call first. I was going to, but then I started crying in the bus station restroom.
And then, I was on the bus, and there were too many people around, and then I was almost here, so… ”
“I’m going to go,” I cut in, crossing to fetch my clutch from the floor where I dropped it.
“No, please!” Beatrice says. “Stay! I’m just going to go right to sleep anyway. I’m exhausted, and I always wear noise-cancelling headphones to bed, so—”
“No, no,” I cut in, meeting her gaze with a firm smile.
“Seriously, Nix and I can pick up where we left off another time. Family comes first.” I cross behind her, pausing by the open arch leading to the front door.
“I’ll take a cab home, Baylor, and text you when I’m in for the night, okay?
Take care of your sister, and I’ll see you soon.
” I smile, sending him a silent wave of strength for whatever comes next. “I had a great night.”
“Me, too,” he says, his gaze telegraphing a silent “thank you.” He starts across the room, “Here, at least let me walk you out.” As he passes Bea, he bends to press a quick kiss to the top of her head and promises, “Be right back.”
She nods before calling over her shoulder, “Bye, Charlotte. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I assure her, following Nix to the door.
He turns to face me, whispering, “I’m sorry. I need to figure out what’s going on. It’s more serious than she’s letting on, or she wouldn’t be here. That tour was really important to her.”
I nod. “Absolutely. Take care of her. And if either of you needs anything I can help with, let me know.”
His lips curve in a grateful smile. “Thanks. I… I appreciate it, Char. I appreciate you.”
“I appreciate you, too.”
“And I really want to pick up where we left off,” he murmurs, holding my gaze as he adds, “The next time we start kissing, we’re not stopping until you’ve come at least twice for me, okay?”
I bite my lip, fighting the wave of desire that surges through me. Before I can respond, Bea calls out from behind us, “I can seriously just go to the guest room, guys. I don’t mind. I feel terrible for ruining your night.”
“Stop, don’t be silly,” I call out. “I need to head home anyway.” Lowering my voice, I promise Nix, “I’ll text you when I get home. Good luck.”
“Thanks,” he says, opening the door with a sigh.
I pat his chest as I step past him, then stride toward the elevator, refusing to look back. That was close. Too close.
We were lucky Beatrice showed up when she did.
Now is not the time to break the rules.
Now is the time to focus and execute.
Even if my entire body protests walking away from Nix on a cellular level.