Chapter 21
JO
Not at all surprising, Nico managed to charm the pants off everyone at Granny’s party, while also leaving Waylon and Lizzie seething with jealousy, and Danny finally quieted from making any digs at me.
So, I suppose our plan for this fake engagement worked.
But as Nico strides into my apartment when we arrive back home in Philadelphia, there isn’t much fake about the way he looks at me when he shuts the door.
“I’m so proud of you,” he says, kicking off his shoes, placing them next to mine. “You showed everybody they can’t mess with you anymore.”
“Mostly because of you.”
He shakes his head, removing his zip-up. “You stood up for yourself on your own. I was only there as security.”
“Well, maybe I need to hire you for every family event.”
“Maybe.” His sky-blue eyes turn stormy as he stalks me, gaze ravenous.
He glides the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, almost as if tasting something delicious, and I wonder if he’s remembering the way he told me to be quiet in the dressing room and lowered to his knees.
I tried my best not to make noise, but I’m not sure he was even aware of how he groaned when he first glided his tongue up my slit.
Recalling it now, I feel my skin prick with goose bumps.
My nipples harden when I think of how he gripped my thighs, held me up and open to his mouth, and how proud he looked when he tipped his head back after I’d come, his mouth glistening.
Remembering it, I’m both excited and empty. Blood pools between my legs, heavy and almost painful, needy. For him. Before I have a chance to chicken out, I curl my hands around his neck, bringing his mouth down to mine.
“I know you have to leave tomorrow, but will you stay the night?”
His stubble scratches my jaw. “You don’t even need to ask.”
I swallow my nerves and twine my fingers into his hair. “Have sex with me?”
He exhales against my ear, his hands tightening on my waist, and it’s a long time before he lifts his attention to my face. “You sure?”
I nod.
“Not good enough, mama. I want to hear the words.”
“I’m sure. I want to have sex with you. I want…” Pressure forms behind my eyes and along my nose. “I want it to be you.”
He runs his palms along my sides and back, eyes drifting back and forth between mine as he takes a few deep breaths that make his shoulders rise and fall. I don’t know if I’ve ever witnessed Nico Tremblay unsure of himself, but he seems it now, and it calms my own nerves.
We’re in this together.
Though, from that first day in the hospital, that’s how it’s always been. He’s kept his promise to have my back, to be on my team, and always at my side. So, I’m not at all scared when he says, “I’m going to undress you now.”
He gestures for me to raise my arms so he can remove my hoodie, the one with his name and number on the back.
He carefully sets it on one of the kitchen chairs.
Next is my T-shirt, though he merely tosses it over his shoulder, and I laugh into a kiss as he traces his fingers over the curves of my breasts, the pads of his thumbs circling my nipples through my bra.
At my audible intake of breath, he leaves an openmouthed kiss on the slope of my neck. “Are you nervous?”
“A little, but you always make me feel better.”
“Good, but if I’m honest…” His hands drift to my back, unclasping my bra with practiced ease, and I shiver as he slides the straps down my arms, letting the fabric fall to the floor. “I’m really nervous.”
His quiet admission draws a smile out of me. “Why?”
“I want to make this good for you. This is your first time, and it’s… It’s you, Jo. I want to be good for you.”
I can’t think about the meaning of his words right now or else I don’t think I’ll be able to go through with this. But I do know that I want Nico to be the one I lose my virginity to.
“I’ve waited a long time,” I say as he walks me backward until my knees hit the bed. “And I want it to be you.”
His throat bobs, fingers curling strands of my hair. “Can I tell you something?”
I can’t believe how nervous he is, and it makes me more confident. The fact that he is nervous because he cares so much is more proof that this is the right decision. Nico won’t hurt me.
I scoot back on the mattress, waiting to hear what he has to say.
But he doesn’t speak until he undoes the button of my jeans and pulls them and my panties off my legs, leaving me naked and completely bare to him.
His “look at you” is barely audible, but then he bends, skating his hand up my calf to my knee, pushing my thighs apart.
“Sometimes I think it was fate. Us meeting.”
I dip my chin, meeting his gaze over the length of my torso, where he flattens his palm, his fingertips reaching from my ribs to my pubic bone. “You hitting me with a puck was fate?”
“Yeah.” The corner of his mouth hooks up. “Maybe.” Then he grows serious. “I think it’s fate that I’m here with you now.”
I’m not sure how much I like the idea that what happens in life is out of our control, but I’ve spent so long being depressed and unhappy that it’s a comfort to think there was something meant for me in the end.
Him.
“I think you’ve been reading too much fated mates.”
He grins as he kneels on the floor at the foot of my bed. “It’s possible.”
Then he guides my legs over his shoulders, his breath hot on the most vulnerable part of me. My belly quivers, and even though I know what’s going to happen, I tense in anticipation.
Until his tongue glides up my center, and then I melt. I relax my fingers at the warm, wet touch and ease them into his hair. He echoes my own thoughts, murmuring about how warm and wet I am before closing his lips on my clit and sucking.
He takes his time, fingers stroking my inner thighs, nuzzling my hip, lapping at me like I’m his favorite dessert to be savored. Every so often, he moans, as if he loves this as much as I do, and it makes me utterly wanton. I lift my hip, pressing against his mouth, chasing more of that feeling.
He flicks his eyes open, pupils so big almost no blue is visible in his irises, and when he leans up, I see his cheeks ruddy, chin glistening. “You ready to come?”
I nod, biting into my lower lip, skin hot and damp, and he keeps his eyes on me as he lowers his mouth back to my center, adding his fingers, pushing two into me slowly, curling until they hit a spot that makes my back bow.
“Oh God, Nico.”
He hums, sending vibrations up the length of my body, shaking even my bones, and I can’t catch my breath.
Each inhale is harder and harder to take, my heart beating in my ears.
The sounds coming out of me are purely animalistic.
He extends one arm up, fingers plucking at my nipple, and that’s when my orgasm crashes over me, body convulsing, my inner muscles clamping down on his fingers.
Because even in this mindless state, I still know it’s not enough. I need more.
I’m greedy.
Nico’s made me greedy.
Created a monster.
I grab at him, pulling him up, even as he clearly wants to stay between my legs, but I’m too impatient and shove one hand down his sweats as I wrap the other around the nape of his neck, directing his lips to mine.
He tastes like me, slightly salty and earthy, his chin soaked with my wetness, but I don’t care.
He places his hands on either side of my head, dragging his tongue along my jaw and behind my ear, allowing me time to grip and tug at his erection.
I sense the strain thrumming through his muscles by the way he holds himself. As if he’s afraid to hurt me.
“I want this,” I tell him. Knowing the usually smug playboy needs reassurance.
It’s funny. I’d had such a difficult time picturing the two of us together, thinking the world at large would agree there was no way Nico Tremblay and Josephine Atkins fit together, but being in my little bed with him, hearing his panting breaths and feeling his trembling muscles, I think I might agree with him.
Maybe this is fate.
Maybe this was always the way it was supposed to happen.
The reformed player with the shy, backward virgin.
It is something out of a book.
He sits back on his knees and strips off his T-shirt, tossing it to the floor, before raking his gaze along my body, pausing at different places, my breasts, my stomach, and finally between my thighs. He drags his hand over his face, down his throat, appearing distraught.
With more courage than I’ve ever had, I sit up and ask him a question, fearing the answer but needing to hear it anyway. “Do you not want to do this anymore?”
“Jesus, no, Jo. I want to do this more than anything. More… That’s why…” He takes one of my hands and places it over his pounding heart and opens his mouth to speak, but he stops himself. I can almost see the words turning to dust on his tongue. Something is wrong, but he can’t get it out.
“What is it?” I comb my fingers through his shaggy golden hair. “You can tell me.”
He shakes his head a few times, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Another time.”
“But—”
He silences me with a bruising kiss, twisting my hair in his hands, easing me back to the bed. No matter that I’m worried about whatever secret he’s keeping, my body doesn’t care. My nipples tighten to painful points, and my core aches, needing to be filled.
With a few nips to my collarbone and shoulder, he stands from the bed to shuck his pants and underwear, releasing the hard length of him. I watch with rapt attention as he finds his wallet and pulls out a few condoms.
“Don’t think less of me,” he says, tossing all but one on the nightstand.
“Think less of you for being careful?”
“For being a slut.”
Is this what he was worried about? His past? His reputation?
I don’t care about it. I know he’s been safe, and he’s obviously been careful with his health. He might not have always made the best decisions, but I know he would never hurt anyone, especially me, on purpose.