Chapter 4
L eandra kicked off her shoes on the back porch of the house Nick had taken her to last night.
In typical Florida fashion, the outside wasn’t much to talk about with its chipped paint and overgrown landscaping.
But the new hardwood floors in the kitchen and family room, and brand-new stainless-steel appliances, gave the house a modern, upscale feeling.
The inside had been freshly painted with warm, neutral colors that brightened up the space when the sun filtered through the windows.
“Sorry about the married thing.” She flopped herself down on the soft leather sofa. It felt cool against her legs, which had a thick layer of humidity covering her skin. “Not sure why I thought that would get him to stop hitting on me.”
“I think it works to our advantage.” Nick sat down on the far end of the couch, his legs stretching out over the coffee table.
All morning long, his hands had been on her skin.
The attention he showed her in front of Ramos had been above and beyond.
However, once on the boat and out of sight of his men, Nick continued to caress her shoulders, or even hold her hand.
He explained as he helped her from the boat to the dock that he was sure they were being followed, watched.
Maybe they were, but his affection felt more like desire than a show put on for the sake of a killer.
“Besides, I don’t like the way he looks at you, much less how he pulled your hair.”
“I can’t say I liked it much either. He’s a disgusting man.”
Nick turned his head. His soft-blue eyes cast a concerned look as the sunlight beamed through the window. “Who wouldn’t think twice about raping and killing you.”
She shivered. Ever since Kent passed, she started taking risks she normally wouldn’t.
It wasn’t a death wish but more like sticking her middle finger up at life.
“I was definitely in over my head, so thanks.” She bit down on her lower lip.
The only thing worse than knowing she’d taken on more than she could cope with was having to admit it.
“You’re welcome.” The corners of his mouth tipped upward. “But I think you’d manage to land on your feet…like Cat Woman.” He winked.
Without thinking, she kicked his thigh with her foot, letting her toes feel the hard muscles inside his jeans .
He grabbed her ankle, fanning his thumb over her sensitive skin, resting her foot on his leg.
She should pull away and shut down this insane attraction that had come out of nowhere.
“How long were you married?” he asked, his face turned serious, and his eyes filled with an understanding that made her heart beat faster.
“Just over two years.”
“Had you known him long?”
“A year before we married,” she said, letting out a long breath. Normally, she couldn’t bring herself to talk about Kent with anyone, especially strangers, but Nick did something to her brain, making her want to share her sob story with him.
Perhaps misery loves company.
“Kent, my husband, was originally from the Bronx, and we met in a bakery when he managed to dump his jelly doughnut all over my white shirt.” Her lungs burned at the memory.
She’d been admiring his physique since he’d opened the door for her.
She couldn’t decide what she wanted, which was often the case, so she let him go first. When the clerk handed him his order, she suspected he’d go to the left, but instead he turned right, and she walked into him and his doughnut. “It was love at first stain.”
Nick laughed. “First time I saw my wife, I thought my heart would stop beating. When she smiled at me, I was toast.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, how old were you when she died? ”
He continued to caress her ankle and foot as if it were a normal thing to do while talking about their dead spouses.
“We were both twenty. Only been married for a few months.”
“That’s young.”
He nodded, dropping his head to the sofa. “Most people think we got married because she was pregnant, but we’d planned our elopement two weeks before we found out. I lost her and our baby.”
Leandra gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. She and Kent had decided to start trying to have children as soon as he returned home from his last deployment, only he never came home.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Thank you.” He rolled his head and stared at her with a mixture of commiseration and intent, a contrast of emotions that only another survivor could comprehend. “A couple of months after she died, I enlisted. I couldn’t stand to be near anything that reminded me of her.”
“I can understand that.”
“For a couple of years, I couldn’t even look at another woman. Everyone told me I needed to move on. That Joanne would want me to.”
“I’m getting that left and right, and it makes me nuts.” But deep down, she knew there was a truth to the statements. “I’ll be ready when I’m ready.”
“If you think like that, you’ll end up like me, and sometimes it’s a very lonely headspace. ”
“Being a widow is a lonely place to be in general,” she said, lifting her other foot to the couch and leaning back, resting her head on the side of the sofa.
Nick’s fingers dug into her heels, massaging her aching feet. “My older brother, who you’ll meet this afternoon, thinks I wear my pain as if it were burned onto my chest like a scarlet letter.”
“My mother thinks I hold on to my grief out of fear.” Talking about her late husband never seemed natural, much less comfortable, but Nick had a way of making her feel as though he understood why moving on was something that wasn’t in her wheelhouse.
“Your mother could be right.”
“Have you ever tried peeling the scarlet letter off?”
“No,” he said, still rubbing her feet with strong fingers. “But I’ve learned to accept things as they are. I’ll never love another woman, nor be in a lasting relationship, and I’m okay with that.”
She moaned as he worked from her heels across her arches. “I want to be okay with that.” Tossing her arm over her eyes, she tried to ignore the heat pulsing through her body. “I know I’ll never find love again because I don’t want it, but I’m tired of closing myself off to being a woman.”
The sofa shifted as he pushed her one foot to the side. She jerked her head up as he settled between her legs.
Her body betrayed her as she let her knees fall outward, giving him plenty of room to nestle himself in her womanhood .
She sucked in a breath as his hands framed her face. Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders.
“You’re a beautiful woman.” His lips brushed the tip of her nose. “Only way to be okay with having sex with someone else is to do it with someone who doesn’t want or expect anything else from you.”
“Is that what you did?” she asked.
He nodded. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
“I was kind of turned on when you jumped me in the bathroom.”
“That was really hot.” He winked. “We have a few hours to kill while we wait around for everything and everyone to get into place.”
“Here? Now?” Her panties moistened as he pressed against her. All her nerve endings went up in flames. “Aren’t there people watching us?”
“Not inside the house.” He frowned. Pressing his hands on the sofa, he lifted his chest up. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t appropriate.”
“Fuck appropriate,” she muttered, wrapping her legs around his muscular ass. “This is a one-time thing.”
“That’s all I’ve got to give you.”
“That’s all I want,” she said, and her nipples tightened. “I should warn you that I haven’t had sex with anything other than my own fingers or vibrator—”
He covered her mouth with his, sucking her tongue inside, swirling his everywhere. Her nipples puckered against her bra, the fabric making them so hard it felt like they were on fire .
Kneeling, he kept the lustful kiss going as he scooped her up in his arms.
“Whoa…what are you doing?”
“I can’t fuck you properly on that sofa, so I’m taking you to the bedroom.”
She found his bluntness endearing. “I can walk.” Being a little bit on the heavy side, men didn’t carry her often, but Nick seemed to manage her as if she were a stack of feathers.
“When I’m done with you, walking might be a problem.”
“I hope that’s a promise.” She pressed her lips on his ear, sucking his earlobe into her mouth.
He hissed as he kicked open the door to one of the bedrooms. Setting her feet down on the floor, he held her hips, staring into her eyes.
Her chest heaved up and down with each sharp breath.
A combination of masculine musk and fresh soap smacked her nostrils, sending a tingle through her body.
Until Kent, she hadn’t been comfortable being naked in front of a man.
Every lover she’d had before him somehow managed to make her feel as though her body imperfections made her less of a sensual woman.
Most of the men hadn’t meant to cause her feelings of insecurity, but their poor choice of words and actions left her feeling anything but sexy.
Kent made her feel as though she were the most perfect woman in the world, and not just physically.
The way Nick looked her over with his lust-filled eyes, licking his lips, spread a hot sizzle across her skin, igniting a passion so deep it rocked her soul. She swallowed as his palms cupped her breasts before his fingers magically unbuttoned her blouse.
With both his palms holding her breasts, he leaned over and kissed her neck. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her fingers dancing across his firm muscles. She tipped her head to the side, letting out a soft moan as he unfastened the front clasp of her bra.
His soft, moist lips kissed her nipple gently before he swirled his tongue over it, rolling and twisting the sensitive nub.
She clutched his head, running her fingers through his light-brown hair, watching him toy with her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this alive. Her heart beat so fast, she couldn’t catch her breath.