12
“I will pluck one perfect blond hair for every tomato plant that dies. Understood?” I stare up at Javier, who has more than once accused me of being more suited to the role of evil lab experiment than Nick with my newly found temper. But at least he’s agreed to stay back and mind the farm while I accompany Nick to New York. I say accompany because he still thinks I should leave him to wallow in his new found past and go on without him. Not a chance. But I can see that he’ll be able to process things better in an environment that feels more natural to him and, quite frankly, my breeding experiments with tomatoes may just hit a little too close to home right now. So off to the Big Apple we go. This time I’m not letting him dump me in my former residence.
“I don’t see why you want to stay with me, Candace,” he grumbles as we drive to the airport. “It’s stuffy and boring there, you said so yourself.”
“When I was nine!” I exclaim in frustration. “And that was only because you didn’t have time to talk to me.” My dad dragged me along to some excruciating dinner party when my mom had to go out of town and he forgot he would need a sitter. But of course there wasn’t a place for me at the table, so I had to hang out on the gallery at the top of the stairs with a plate. Occasionally, Nick would look up to check on me (unlike my dad) and give me a secret smile. So small nobody else noticed, and I felt like he became mine back then. He just didn’t know it.
“It hasn’t changed all that much,” he admits sheepishly.
“But I have. And I do not intend to let you out of our agreement. Not unless you want to concede now and make real love to me tonight?” I ask sweetly.
When we stop for a red light, he stares at me like I’ve grown two heads. “Didn’t you read anything on that report?” he finally asks with exasperation.
“I did. I read the whole thing and, more to the point, I understood it. You didn’t come into the world in the usual way. But you’re here now, you’re sexy and intelligent, and you’re mine. Why you think I would throw all that away because of a few extra proteins is beyond me.”
“Sexy?” His heavy eyebrows rise in disbelief and he sounds almost like his old self. I don’t let down my guard, though. It’s a small and temporary victory, but I’m clinging to it. And him.
“Sexy,” I announce emphatically, crossing my arms over my chest.
Naturally Nick doesn’t travel commercial. Mostly, I think it’s because he’s too impatient, but he always says it’s because of the confidential information he’s working with. But he came to Kansas in such a rush that he didn’t bring much with him. And he hasn’t touched the temporary computer Javier delivered. Nick would never trust his main machines to any delivery service, so I know they’re sitting on his desk right where he left them.
But I’m not complaining when I stretch my legs out in front of me on the leather couch while waiting for our charter flight to take off. I debated, but finally decided to give him the day off from providing orgasms. But only if I can stick to his side like glue. If I don’t, he’ll go off and come up with a whole new line of reasoning about why he should hide out in a cave for the rest of his life.
The noise of New York hits like a freight train. It hasn’t been that long since I left the city, but it feels like last Spring was another lifetime. I keep that thought to myself, though, as I watch Nick’s shoulders relax. I observe the crowds moving back and forth on the sidewalk as we’re stuck in traffic in the back of the hired car. Nobody is looking at us or paying any attention at all and that’s when I realize why Nick prefers the city — he can be anonymous here in a way that will never work in Kansas. So a new problem to solve on top of all the others.
Actually, Nick’s penthouse is just as stuffy and boring as I remember it. The furniture is all big and dark. And brooding. The drapes are also floor to ceiling navy silk. Beautiful but slightly depressing. And it smells of gardenias. Which always makes me think of my grandmother. The one that didn’t approve of anything and particularly little girls that wanted to play in the dirt. I trail behind Nick as he carries our luggage through to the back of the apartment. He hesitates in front of the big double doors that I’m sure lead to his bedroom, even though I’ve never been inside.
“If you change the rules now, I get to change a few too,” I warn him cheerfully. With a sigh, he drops my suitcase and his smaller bag to the ground and opens the doors. In here, the color scheme has shifted to dark red and brown. Slightly warmer, but not by much. The bed, though, is huge and looks deliciously comfortable. I’m eyeing it with anticipation until my gaze is caught by a small frame holding a photo on the antique tea table serving as a nightstand. It’s of me. Taken on my nineteenth birthday when my dad treated me to a night at the ballet. His choice, more than mine, but I enjoyed dressing up and feeling like a grownup. I don’t remember running into Nick there, though. I’d have remembered that. I take heart from its presence next to his bed. He wouldn’t do that if he simply felt sorry for me.
I drag my suitcase deeper into the room, and start opening paneled doors looking for the closet while Nick watches me, finally starting to resemble his old self.
“Candace, what are you looking for?”
“The closet,” I mutter, wondering how one bedroom can possibly have so many doors. So far I’ve found the bathroom, a linen cupboard, a covered bookcase, and a minibar.
“Next wall,” he says with a tinge of amusement.
“Right,” I mutter, that would have been my next door to open, anyway. The closet is practically the size of another bedroom and I have no problems finding empty drawers and hangers. Normally, I wouldn’t bother with this for a few days but I need to send lots of reinforcing signals Nick’s way, starting with hanging up clothes, which means I’m sticking.
When I turn back, I notice that the picture of me has disappeared. Is he embarrassed? Or thinking he still has to convince me to leave him for my own good? I change my mind about the strategy. Clearly, I can’t let the doubt settle into certainty. I saunter over to him. “Before I take a shower to wash off the travel dirt, I think you should make me a little dirtier, don’t you? I don’t want to miss out on all that cumulative interest you enticed me with.” Before he can answer, I pull his head down with both hands and whisper in his ear, “There’s no escape, Mr. Savage.”
He looks ready to argue, but then a stern expression sweeps over his face and I instantly know he’s going to try to scare me away. But I’m also positive he would never, ever truly hurt me, so I brace for impact.
Nick strips me without a word, briskly and efficiently. Then he picks me up and tosses me (lightly, I might add) onto the enormous bed. His expression is fierce but his hands are gentle as he rolls me over so I’m face down into the chocolate-brown silk coverlet. Without uttering a sound, he spreads my legs wide. I’m waiting, I’m not sure for what. I’m hoping it has a little more emotion than what I’m receiving so far.
He starts nibbling my ankle. I know that sounds strange, but it’s not really. Just very small, stinging nips starting at just above my heel and moving up one leg. When he gets to the back of my knee, the first involuntary quiver hits. He stops and there’s a small admonishing nip to my butt cheek, which I interpret to mean I’m supposed to stay still. I desperately want this to continue, so I freeze. He starts back at my ankle and I could practically weep with frustration.
I can’t hold back the groan though when he gets to the side of my ribcage where his teeth are followed by the day’s growth of stubble on his chin, grazing my skin and sending shivers down my spine. I hold as still as I can, but I’m so close, teetering on the edge, really. He pushes my knees up and farther apart. I tense as his breath fans my engorged pussy. It makes me need to move, to wrap myself around him, but now he’s firmly holding me in place. Both of his giant hands wrap around my feet, his thumbs lightly caressing and then pressing into the soles. Where the hell did he learn to do that?
My entire body is being held captive by two thumbs against my lowest extremity. Who needs bondage when you have Nick? I can’t twist or sit up. All I can do is lie on my stomach and pant with anticipation as his mouth edges ever closer to my pussy. I let out a keening cry as his tongue pushes into my pulsing channel. It’s thick and agile, dancing over my flesh and leaving me aching for a repeat of the previous stroke. Only he always moves on to a new angle, a new spot that adds to the growing tension.
When he pushes my legs just a tiny bit wider to where I can feel the stretch in my thighs, it briefly distracts me — until I feel him nuzzle between my folds and then his lips close over my swollen clit. Without warning, he sucks hard. And I explode into a million pieces. He keeps sucking and licking as my climax rolls through me, over and over, the cascading waves shuddering out to my fingertips, which are curled like claws into the expensive brown silk. When my limbs turn to absolute jelly in the aftermath, the pressure on my feet eases away. He drops a gentle, innocent kiss on the small of my back and then something downy and soft drifts over my spent body. I can’t even open my eyes to find out if he’s still in the room.