15. On Your Knees
On Your Knees
Missy
‘Doesn’t eat fucking cookies.’
I stomp around the apartment, picking up toys and crayons and cleaning up the mess we left in the kitchen, all the while going over it in my head. All of it. Not just tonight.
Although tonight has me blowing smoke.
Nobody needs that much sugar, my ass. Maybe a little sugar in his life would make him nicer. That’s the fourth time I’ve had that thought, even saying it out loud as we stomped to my car on the way to take cookies to Bree at work and then Cara’s house.
The worst part, the part that’s driving me crazy, is that the girls were right. Nick is attracted to me. I see it. While he was saying no to the cookies, he was looking at me like he wanted to eat me instead, but nooo , instead of making a goddam move, he’s a rude, obnoxious ass to me.
I imagine, just for the tiniest of seconds, him making a move, him eating me instead of the cookies… no, Miss! You are done with men who make you feel shitty.
And he does make me feel shitty. That I could almost deal with, but him disappointing Jonah, no way. He was so upset that Nick didn’t want the cookies, and it broke my heart.
I managed to calm him down by saying we would make Nick some cheese twists instead — that way he can’t complain about sugar.
Asshole.
‘Ugh.’ I growl, frustrated, as I put away the dishes and feel a little silly. Something about trying to rage clean quietly so you don’t wake your child diffuses things a little. I want to be mad, but I also want my evening to be peaceful.
In between the songs playing the soundtrack to my mood, I hear his door from the hallway, and I glare in the direction of his apartment. I’ve half a mood to storm over there and demand he tell me what’s crawled up his ass, but I don’t trust myself with him. I want to hate him. I should hate him, and part of me does, but the other part, she’s horny and neglected, and she really liked the five o’clock shadow he was sporting today.
‘ Ugh .’ I growl a little louder now. What is wrong with me? Being treated like shit by Bax wasn’t enough for me ?
Taking out a glass and reaching for the bottle of wine I opened last night, I pour and take a large gulp. I need to understand what his problem is. It’s eating at me.
I look down at my body in a large T-shirt and boxer shorts because they’re comfy as fuck. Not like this, I think. I can’t stomp over there demanding an explanation looking like this .
I have no makeup on. My hair is roughly pulled up into a loose bun, and I’m barefoot and barely dressed. If I’m going to face him, I need to feel like I have the upper hand. I need to feel strong enough not to take his bullshit.
Heading for my bedroom, I freeze at the knock on the door. No, not like this . It can’t be anyone else. Cara has Doug and Bowie at her place tonight, and Bree has a date. Unless Zoe is back from California way earlier than expected, it’s got to be Nick.
He knocks again, and I could ignore it. I should, but he knows I’m here — he heard my music — I know it. Not that I owe him anything. I could just ignore it because he’s an asshole, but even before I finish that thought, I find myself walking toward the door and yanking it open.
‘What?’ I snap, and he steps back a little, eyes widening as he takes in my appearance.
‘Missy, I… ’
‘You what, Nick?’ I cut him off then feel like an idiot because he didn’t even say anything yet.
He takes a deep inhale and exhales through his nostrils.
‘I’m sorry.’
I hold his gaze for a moment, seeing sincerity in his eyes, but it’s not enough. It doesn’t explain anything. With a shake of my head, I step out into the hallway, closing the door behind me.
‘Go ahead.’
His eyebrows raise, and he nods a little as he decides what he needs to say.
‘I’ve been an asshole to you. I apologize.’
‘That’s it?’
‘What more do you want?’ His hands come out to the side, and he looks so lost, so confused.
‘An explanation of what the fuck I did to make you hate me so much.’
‘I don’t hate you.’
I laugh. I don’t mean to, but it bursts out of me.
‘Are you serious right now? Every time I see you, you make me feel so fucking small, Nick. You act like I’m a rash you can’t get rid of, and the itch is driving you crazy.’
He huffs out a laugh. ‘You are driving me fucking crazy.’
‘ Why? What the fuck have I done for you to hate me this much?’
‘I just told you I don’t hate you.’
‘You just told me I drive you crazy.’
‘ You do . You’re driving me insane because all I can think about is kissing you.’
‘What?’ The word is a whisper as I process what he said and the way his body moves toward mine.
‘All I think about—’ His voice is slow, deep, and it sends shivers through me as he closes the distance between us and my back presses against the wall. ‘All day, every fucking day is what it would be like to kiss you, to touch you.’
‘ Nick. ’ I gasp his name, his close proximity affecting me.
‘You are consuming my every fucking thought, Missy. Every day and every single night.’
I don’t miss the insinuation, the breathiness of his voice, the way his eyes are filled with desire for me, I know what him thinking about me at night means and it is like a foot pressed firmly on the gas for my desire. I don’t give it a second thought as I reach up and pull his mouth to mine.
The kiss is rough and hungry. His hard body pushes against mine as my tongue rolls against his, and I moan loudly at the sensation of the first real kiss I’ve had in so long .
I’m weak. I’m a weak, needy idiot, but God, he feels good pressed against me. His hand on my hip, then my ass, as he pulls me roughly against his hard dick, has me whimpering before I come to my senses and push against his chest.
We’re both breathing hard as he steps back, and I look down to see the outline of his dick under the soft fabric of his scrub pants. Oh, I want that .
‘Missy,’ my name comes out on an exhale.
‘Shut up.’ I inhale slowly to steady my breath and gather my thoughts. ‘You want me, you show me some damn respect.’ He nods. ‘You earn it.’ He steps a little closer, and I stand as tall as my barefoot five-foot-five stature will let me. ‘On your knees.’