Chapter 23 Maya
Maya
My heart skids to a halt and my breath leaves my body. The sound of his voice sends shock waves straight to my groin. It doesn’t matter how pissed off he makes me, there’s always a part of me that comes alive when he’s around. Traitorous cunt.
Nick is sitting slack in the chair with a glass of bourbon. He’s still wearing the black suit pants and white shirt he had on in the club, but the shirt is now unbuttoned showing off his ripped abs. He looks simply edible.
I didn’t check the covered sitting area on the other side of the jacuzzi because it was dark and it never occurred to me that someone would be sitting in there. I look up, letting my eyes adjust to the light.
If he’s here, it must be Ethan in the room with Sasha. That explains why he never checked on me tonight. I shouldn’t be relieved that it’s not Nick in there with her, but I am.
However, that relief is short-lived and it sinks in that I’m faced with a whole new problem. I’m completely underdressed, and he’s never just let me walk away.
“I thought you said you didn’t have a bathing suit?” he taunts.
“I don’t.” Panic slips into my veins. I wrap my arms around myself, ensuring my towel isn’t going anywhere.
“Let me guess, you’re not wearing panties under that either, are you?” His stare heats my insides up—the same stare he gave me in the club when I told him I wasn’t wearing any panties.
“No.” I gulp. “I didn’t know anyone was awake, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.” Part of me wants to go back to bed, the rest of me is glued to this spot.
“You don’t bother me, cupcake. Quite the contrary actually. What bothers me is how I can’t get the girl I dredged out of the river out of my head.” He swirls the amber liquid in his glass.
“What?” He can’t get me out of his head? I can’t tell if he means that in a good way or bad way. I hope it’s not bad.
“You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself.” He takes a sip of his bourbon. “Would you like to have a drink with me in the hot tub?”
“I don’t know. I think I might just go to bed.” If I get in the hot tub with him, I know I’ll end up being exposed in more ways than one.
He always seems to pull my emotions from me. Emotions that I’ve fought for years to suppress. He makes me face myself even more than my therapist does and I’m not sure I’m prepared to do that naked.
“I promise to be a good boy and keep my hands to myself.” He holds his hands up in surrender.
“Can I have a margarita? I liked those.” I succumb to my fate. I might as well have something to knock the edge off.
“You can. I’ll go inside and get out of this suit and grab our drinks, and you can get in the water without prying eyes.” He reaches over and hits a button, turning the bubbles on. “Deal?”
“Deal.” I watch him as he goes inside, shuts the door, and closes the shades. He was telling the truth, he isn’t watching me.
Stepping in the tub, I take a seat on the side to adjust to the temp. Nick will be out soon, so unless I want him to see me naked, I better just get in. The bubbles rolling through the tub distort any exposed flesh.
When Nick comes back outside, he’s carrying a pitcher, two glasses, and a small basket. Um, ok, what is this? His towel is wrapped around his waist instead of casually thrown over his arm or shoulder like I’d expect.
“I brought some refreshments.” He hands me a glass of ice with a salted rim. I’m going to need an ice bucket if he’s naked under there.
“Thanks. Where’s your swimsuit?” It’s tied so low, it would be below the line of a swimsuit if he were wearing one.
“Swimsuits are optional, remember?” I swallow hard at his grin.
I thought he was only talking about that when it pertained to women.
“Unless you want to see me naked, I suggest you turn around, but I can assure you, it won’t bother me to take this towel off with you watching.
” His tan, ripped muscles seem to shine under the low deck lighting.
Heat rises to my face that has nothing to do the hot tub. I turn around to give him some privacy, but since the curtains are closed, the light causes his reflection to appear in the glass. Oh god. Being naked with a man who looks like him can’t be real.
Except for it is. I inhale a shaky breath.
“Do you want to talk about what happened in the club?”
And the shoe drops. I wasn’t hoping he wouldn’t bring that up right now. “Not really.” I turn around to face him in the tub.
“I understand how telling those men not to touch you must look and feel to you. But if you give me a chance, I’d like to explain why.” He pours me a glass of margarita.
His surprisingly calm demeanor is helping me relax. I wouldn’t fight back so hard if he could just approach me like he is now.
“Let’s hear it.” I sip my drink, sure he is going to give me some bullshit response.
“I don’t own your body and I’m not going to pretend that making decisions for you is always going to go the way I want it.” He takes a sip. “I’m a very selfish person and the day I dove in that river after you was a day that linked me to you for good.”
“Awww…look at you trying to be the hero.” I regret those words as soon as I say them. He’s trying to open up and I’m bashing him.
“I saw your fear and desperation and knew I had to save you. I always see things through, and I owe it to you to continue to look out for your wellbeing, so that’s what I’m trying to do.” He leans back, stretching his arms out.
“By making sure I never have any kind of intimacy? I’m confused.” While I’m thankful for everything he’s done for me, I still need to be able to make decisions for myself.
“Not by restricting you from having intimacy. But by making sure the kind of intimacy that comes looking for you is not one that will take advantage of you in a vulnerable state.”
“Oh.” I’m honestly shocked. That’s not what I was expecting him to say at all.
“These men around here are only looking for a hole to stick their dick in. I will not allow anyone to manipulate you into thinking they care just because they want to get laid, leaving you heartbroken, and back where you started. That’s why I have a strict rule that my men are to keep their hands off of you. ”
“You did the same thing to me tonight by teasing me on the dance floor.” I try to calm my racing heart. I liked the way he touched me, even if I shouldn’t have.
“I did and it was wrong. In case you didn’t notice, every man in that room was rubbernecking just to get a glance at you. So, forgive me for giving in to my primal urges and trying to stake a claim so nobody else would think they had a chance. I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to you.”
He was trying to stake a claim on me. My thoughts are reeling. I can’t address that statement yet.
“Marcus broke off his date with me, did you have something to do with that?” I try to divert from what he just said.
“Yes. Marcus is a player with a revolving door of women, he would have used you to get what he wanted and been done. Lucas is all business, I should’ve asked him first.”
“I’m a grown woman, and it should be my decision who I choose to be with—player or not. I can handle myself against men, I’m in a much better frame of mind now than I’ve ever been.” Thanks to him.
As much as I hate when he pushes me, it does me good. It forces me to confront my emotions in a normal way and then move on.
“I’m glad to hear that, but you’re still off-limits to my men.” The way he looks at me tells me this is not up for any more discussion and to drop it.
I sip my margarita. It’s so good and my headache is gone. “So is master ever going to let me date?” I roll my eyes, and he chokes on his drink.
“Don’t make me redact my earlier statement, cupcake, because I have no reservations about showing you who the master is,” he teases with a grin, like I have any doubts that it’s him.
The way he’s always in control and always knows the right way to word things could put me on my knees for him. Not because I want money or a favor, but because I want to know what a man like him looks like when he comes apart.
Despite my better judgement, tequila decides we should test him. I lean back and spread my arms out on either side of me, allowing the tops of my breasts to float on the water, acting like I’m stretching but staring dead at him.
He sharply inhales and his eyes drift from my mouth to the tops of my breasts. His gaze darkens with desire, causing my heart to race. It’s the same look he gave me in the club when I told him I wasn’t wearing panties. There’s a shift of power in the air that’s deeply full of sexual tension.
“Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me? Maybe I should stand up and cool off a little.” I lean my head back and open my mouth, blowing out a long breath.
“Do it and see what happens. If you don’t want to behave, I’m going to assume you don’t want me to either.” His muscles flex with restraint as he shifts uncomfortably.
I try to stand and he reaches over and grabs my ankle pulling me back down. My arms instinctively go out in front of me and he quickly lets go of my ankle and grabs my wrist, pulling me towards him. We are now face to face and suddenly I’m not so brave.
“I mean it, cupcake. I might have ironclad self-control and I’m doing my best while being taunted in the face of temptation, but even iron can break.
” Beads of sweat drip down his gorgeous face.
He is the picture of male perfection and being naked in such close proximity to him might make me combust.
“I don’t want you to behave,” I whisper.
The rise and fall of his chest becomes quick and full of ragged breaths. He wants me as bad as I want him. There’s no denying it.
“That’s not consent. You don’t know what you’re asking for.” His hot, whiskey tainted breath blows in my face. It’s so sensual.
Everything is so absolute with him. How do I tell him directly that I want him to ruin me?
“I want you to touch me, Nick.”
His gaze finally drifts from my face to my chest that’s barely inches from mine.