Chapter 39
Nick put one finger on the front of her bra, deftly released the clasp, and cupped her breasts as her bra slid back. He caught her nipples between his fingers and gently pulled, rising slightly to trap her mouth under his own and ride her down to the sofa. And he was on her, the bulk of him, heavy and hard, and his erection already throbbing against her leg.
She wrapped her legs around him and ran her fingers lightly over his back, skimming over the skin where it dipped between muscles. He groaned. She bit gently at his earlobe, and his breathing became raspy. “Time for a fridge run,” she whispered, and he looked at her. “That’s where you keep your condoms, right?”
He laughed, a deep-throated, masculine laugh that made his belly move, and since it was on top of her, she felt as well as heard it. “No, I just needed to stash them fast that night. I didn’t want you to think—you know.”
“That the decorator wanted to talk about Michelangelo?”
“Yeah,” he said, nibbling along her collarbone. “That.”
“Oh. Oh. Get a condom. Now.”
He grinned at her and stood, then stared out at his new apartment, arranged by his teammates. “I don’t know where I keep them.”
“Wallet?” she said.
“I never replaced that one.” He exhaled in frustration, then looked down at her and ran a finger along her lips. “I’ll be right back.” He ran into the bedroom, and she heard drawers opening and slamming shut.
He ran back out, doing a comic-style run with exaggerated arm movements. “Bedroom cleared!” He dashed into the bathroom, and hard objects rattled and more drawers slammed shut. “Bathroom cleared!”
“Where were they?” Alyssa said. “Before?”
“In the bedside table. And a drawer in the bathroom.”
“And they’re not now?” He shook his head, standing in the living room, a look of wild desperation on his face. She stood and grasped his shoulder firmly. “Remember, you’re the guy who found Mrs. Gilroy. You can do this!”
“I want to do that,” he said, waggling an eyebrow at her. “That’s why I need the condom.” She flushed but put her hand out flat. It took him a second to understand, and then he laid his hand on it and shouted, “Go, team!”
“Yeah, that!” she said, a moment too late.
He laughed and turned in a circle, then launched himself at his bookshelf, feeling around behind the books. “So that makes no sense,” Alyssa said. She walked into his new bedroom. The walls were white, but the windows were great, and the trim was better in this apartment—a little more graceful and Old World, and more in keeping with his furnishings.
“I hear no sounds of ransacking!” Nick called desperately. “Do you think we could just use a sock?”
“No, we can’t use a sock!”
“I have some big ones. Like a boot sock.”
She cracked up and rummaged through his drawers, peeked under the bed and on the closet shelf, then moved into the bathroom. He’d trashed it. He’d dumped his things into the bathtub—razor, toothpaste, comb, steri-strips to hold the edges of cuts together. But definitely no condoms. It suddenly occurred to her that maybe he was out. She didn’t want to think about the implications of that.
“Alyssa. Come here.” His voice was strained.
She popped out of the bathroom and found him in the kitchen, standing beside an open cupboard door. He tipped his head toward it and she shot him a curious look, walked in, and tilted her head. She didn’t see anything but some plates one of his teammates must have unloaded for him. He put his hands on her hips and gave her a boost, and she saw bowls on the top shelf, and inside them, a box of condoms. She grabbed it out. There was a note attached:
Nikolai! I put these for you in a safer place. Hope you had to look for them before you used the bowls. Ha! Ha! Jakub
“We have got to trade him,” Nick said. “Note to self: never give your teammates access to your stuff.”
Alyssa grabbed the condoms from the box and ran in a circle through the living room, letting the strip trail like a kite. He caught her in two steps, grabbed the strip with his teeth, and picked her up. She squealed as he carried her to the sofa, shoved her pants off, and grunted. “I think we were here,” he said, running his thumb over her clitoris. She didn’t try to answer.
They knew each other’s bodies a little now, and she relaxed into him, confident in this. In them. She knew the man, his body—his heart. And oh, did he know her. He used his hands and then his mouth on her, then raised his head to look at her from between her legs. “More?” His voice was husky. She shook her head and grabbed him by the hair to guide him gently up. He grinned, then cupped her breasts and sucked at her nipples. She feather-stroked his abdomen, raising a growl from him, then ran her hands lightly over his body, giving him goose bumps before she bent to lick his cock. He groaned and shut his eyes, then tangled his hand in her hair and made deep throaty noises. She loved feeling so safe with a man who made such a feral sound.
Finally he stopped her, ripped a condom off the strip that lay discarded by the sofa, and shoved it on himself. He wrapped his big hands around her shoulders and pushed her gently down, then settled, heavy, over her and plunged in, bringing her knees up. She moaned softly and gripped his shoulders. She was exactly where she wanted to be, enveloping him, moving with him. No more misunderstandings. Moving together in every sense. He thrust hard, rhythmically, and when he nipped at her neck, just once, she was there, spasming around him. He came with her, shuddering with a low moan.
After, she lay with her head against his chest, hair splayed. “So that was unexpected,” she murmured into his neck.
“Really? Because we seem to do this pretty often for people who’ve never gone out on an actual date.” She leaned her head back and smiled up at him. He pushed her hair back. “There’s a lot of this stuff,” he said, wrapping her hair into a ponytail in his fist and leaning down to kiss her.
“I was never mad at you for sending flowers,” she whispered. “I didn’t blame you that I got fired.”
He smiled at her, and it brought a warmth and light into his eyes. “I’m going to ask you again to let me take you to dinner.” He flipped her hair back and forth and caught sight of his watch while he did it. “Oh, crap. I have a team meeting.” He stood, dumping her gently on the sofa and chuckling at the look on her face. “Sorry, babe.”
She dropped her head. Oh god. What had she done? She’d made the phone call when she hadn’t thought he was speaking to her.
“Nick.” She scrambled for her bra and panties, not sure which to put on first, and finally opted for the panties—Wedgewood blue with lace panels on the sides and not much coverage at all, really, but at least she wasn’t technically naked now. She grabbed her blouse from under the sofa and held it, balled, in front of her chest. “I can’t go out with you.”