Chapter 2 #3
His name broke from my throat louder than I’d meant, helpless and raw, as I came hard, shooting onto my stomach. My body clenched around him, pleasure crashing through me in waves that seemed endless.
All of it—my voice breaking on his name, the way I tightened around him—took him with me.
He cursed, hips stuttering out of rhythm, then buried his face in my neck as his whole body went taut.
He planted himself deep, his groan vibrating through his chest into mine, and he pulsed inside me as he came.
It wrung another aftershock from me, pleasure sparking through my oversensitive body.
He collapsed onto his elbows, careful not to crush me but unable to hold himself up any longer.
Our breathing came in ragged gulps. Sweat cooled on overheated skin. The rapid rise and fall of his chest pressed against mine with every exhale, and I could feel his heartbeat hammering just as fast as my own.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. Couldn’t move. My hands were tangled in his hair, his face still buried in my neck, our bodies still joined.
After a moment, he eased out and padded to the bathroom. The water ran, and then he was back, settling beside me with a warm washcloth. He cleaned me carefully—my stomach, my tender ass—and the gentle attention felt more intimate than anything we’d just done.
I should have left. I’d lost control… said yes when I should have said no, followed him here when I knew better, let him in when I’d promised myself I wouldn’t be vulnerable to a man’s charm again. Staying would just compound the mistake.
But Nico pulled me against his chest, his arms wrapped around me, and I was too tired to move. Too satisfied to care about leaving.
“That was…” he started.
“Yeah,” I agreed, because I didn’t have words either.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, and my gut twisted. This was dangerous. This was exactly the kind of thing that led to getting hurt.
But his heartbeat was steady under my ear, his hands were warm on my skin, and I let myself drift off anyway.
I woke up to weak light leaking through the floor-to-ceiling windows and Nico already awake beside me, propped up on one elbow, watching me with a soft expression that made my stomach flip.
“Morning,” he said, voice rough with sleep.
“Morning.” I sat up, suddenly very aware that I was naked in a hotel suite with a man whose last name I didn’t know. A man I’d left a club with on impulse, breaking every careful rule I’d built for myself. “What time is it?”
“A little after seven.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in different directions. “I have to be at work at nine.”
Right. Work. The real world, where I had clients to manage and a reputation to protect, and a carefully constructed life that didn’t include reckless decisions in expensive hotel rooms.
What had I been thinking?
I hadn’t been thinking. That was the problem. I’d just… wanted. And look where that had gotten me.
“I should probably get going, then,” I said, looking around for my clothes. Needing distance, needing to get out of there before the full weight of what I’d done settled over me.
“Wait.” He caught my wrist gently. “Let me order coffee first? I don’t want you to think I’m kicking you out.”
The genuine concern in his expression made my chest loosen despite my better judgment. “Okay. Coffee would be good.”
He called room service and ordered coffee and pastries, and we sat together in the plush hotel robes the suite provided, eating croissants and drinking coffee that was better than anything I made at home.
It felt intimate. Dangerous.
“Last night was great,” Nico said, meeting my eyes with that confidence I’d noticed from the start. “I want to see you again.”
Not a question. A statement.
My heart did a complicated turn in my chest. “You do?”
“Yeah.” He pulled out his phone. “Give me your number.”
Every self-preservation instinct I had screamed at me to say no. This was supposed to be one night. Nothing more.
But the chemistry between us had been undeniable. And the way he looked at me, steady, sure, like he’d already decided we weren’t done, made butterflies swirl in my gut.
I reached for my phone. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “Okay.”
We exchanged numbers, and he smiled with a genuine, bright smile that transformed his entire face.
“I’ll text you,” he promised.
“Sure,” I said, trying not to sound too hopeful. Trying not to let myself imagine that he actually would.
After quick, separate showers, we dressed in a comfortable silence that shouldn’t exist between strangers but somehow did. Nico walked me to the elevator. Before the doors opened, he kissed me—gentle this time, sweet, different from the desperate kisses of last night.
The elevator arrived, and I stepped inside. The doors started to close, and I watched him watching me until metal and distance separated us.
As the elevator descended, I leaned against the wall and tried to process what had just happened.
I’d broken every rule I’d made for myself after Ryan.
But part of me—the part that remembered how Nico had asked before kissing me, how he’d made me laugh when I’d wanted to run—hoped he’d text.