19. Gabby
Gabby
Kylie left Luke with Nikolai. I’m not sure how I feel about that. She said she could work twelve hours a day if I needed her. When I checked for an update, she told me Nik had him. Nik. Like she knows him.
I should have known they knew each other. Are they fucking? Kylie is pretty. Tall and beautiful and probably knows how to please a man.
I’m annoyed with myself for being so bothered by this.
I clock out, grab my purse, and hurry out to the parking garage. I’ve missed Luke’s bedtime, but maybe he’s still up. I want him to be up and waiting for me, but I also know that if he stays up late, he’ll be hell on wheels tomorrow.
I approach the car Nikolai is letting me use.
Another thing I owe him for, but that’s not what makes me freeze.
I swallow the lump in my throat when I see the single white rose under the windshield.
I look at the other cars, half expecting to see flowers tucked under their windshields, too. Nothing.
I step closer.
White roses are not unique to Matteo. People give them for a thousand reasons. Sympathy. Weddings. Apologies.
I pick it up by the stem. The petals are perfect. Fresh. It’s not for me.
This is Nikolai’s car, which means it’s more likely that one of his women left it. I’ve never seen him with a woman, but a man who looks the way he does and lives the way he lives probably has a roster of them.
Some woman left him a flower. Maybe it’s a code. Meet me at my place.
I drop it on the concrete and step on it. I grind it once for good measure and leave it there.
The rose means nothing.
The house is quiet when I come through the front door. I reset the alarm the way Nikolai showed me. I stand in the foyer for a moment and listen.
Nothing. No cartoons. No small footsteps.
Luke is in bed. I feel a combination of relief and disappointment that only a working mother understands. Relief because he needs his sleep and routine is sacred. Disappointment because I want to see his face. I want to press my nose into his hair and ask how his day was.
I missed bedtime.
I set my purse on the entry table and freeze.
“What the hell?” I step forward and touch the dinosaur. It isn’t a stuffed toy, but some kind of action figure. A very large, hideous one.
Nikolai bought my son a dinosaur.
It’s very him. His generosity looks different. He doesn’t ask for thanks or even care if you notice. He sees a need and handles it.
I walk into the kitchen and stop when I see Nikolai.
He’s at the island with a glass of something dark. He looks up when I walk in.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.”
I drop onto a stool at the island and resist the urge to put my head down on the cold marble.
I keep my eyes on the countertop, tracing one of the veins with my fingertip. “I didn’t realize you’d be up.”
“It’s early.”
“There’s a dinosaur in the foyer.”
“Luke told me before bed that it’s not historically accurate. It goes into the donation pile tomorrow.”
“You gave it to him?”
“I had it delivered.”
“Don’t give it away. Thank you for doing that. It was very sweet.”
He says nothing, which I expected.
“Kylie said you had him. I’m sorry. I thought she would stay. I didn’t expect you to watch him.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“You didn’t sign up to babysit.”
He looks at me. “I sent her home.”
“Why?”
He moves to the refrigerator, pulls out deli meat and cheese, and sets it on the counter. I watch him make two sandwiches.
“Because I was here. She didn’t need to be.”
I could point out she’s the nanny, and that she’s supposed to be here. But I don’t.
“He’s asleep?”
“Yes.”
“I should go check on him.”
“Sit. Eat.”
He slides the plate toward me.
“Thank you.” I finally look at him directly. I’m embarrassed. He rejected me, and it still stings.
“He ate meatloaf,” Nikolai says. “We read two books. He brushed his teeth.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
I take a bite of the sandwich and realize I haven’t eaten since noon. I didn’t take a dinner break. I wanted the hours, and they needed me on the floor.
He pours me a drink without asking. He slides it across the island, and I take it.
I’m not going to think about the office. The humiliation. He’s pretending it didn’t happen. That works for me.
I won’t think about the way his hand felt sliding into my hair, or the fraction of a second before he pulled back, when he was kissing me back. He was kissing me back. I know he was. I didn’t imagine that.
I take a sip of scotch. He watches me over the rim of his glass. I see the heat in his eyes. I’m not crazy. That was the look I saw before I kissed him.
He comes around the island and slides his hand up my arm to the back of my neck.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Touching you.”
I pull away. “No. You don’t get to tease me.”
His hand falls, but he doesn’t step back. “Tease you?”
“Make me think you want me, then reject me again.”
His expression hardens. “You think I didn’t want you?”
“You made that quite clear.”
“I wanted you.” His voice is flat. Certain. “I stopped because I thought you were trying to pay me back. I was wrong.”
“What’s different now?”
“Nothing. I still want you. Now, I know it wasn’t payment.”
I take another sip. “That’s convenient.”
“It’s true.”
His eyes drop to my mouth.
“You embarrassed me.”
“Because you thought I didn’t want you.”
I open my mouth, but he keeps going.
“You were wrong.”
His shoulders loosen a fraction. Like he’s been waiting all day for me to understand him.
“I want to kiss you, Gabby.”
Dammit. My name on his lips again. My guard drops, and my anger fades.
I don’t even have time to register the shift before his hand is on my jaw, tilting my face up, and his mouth is on mine.
It’s nothing like the kiss in his office. That one was tentative.
His mouth devours mine, rough for one second before he catches himself. He pulls me off the stool. I stumble against him. His arms are around me, pulling me close to his body. I can't catch my breath.
When he pulls back this time, he keeps his hand in my hair and lowers his forehead to mine while we catch our breath.
“It wasn’t payment,” I murmur.
“I know. Come to bed with me.”
I hesitate. I want him. But… it scares me.
“Nikolai, I’m scared.”
He stiffens. “Of me?”
“Yes. No. I should be. I’m not afraid of you, but I am afraid of sex.”
He leans back and tips my chin up. “You’re afraid of sex?”
I’m so embarrassed, but I’m tingling. My body is alive and humming. No man has ever made me feel like this, and I want to know what it’s like. I want real sex.
“I want to have an orgasm!”
What is wrong with you, Gabby?
He arches one thick brow. His lips twitch. “I can provide.”
“I mean… I’ve never.”
His brow drops, then furrows. “Is Luke your biological son?”
“Yes. I’ve had sex. But never an orgasm. Not with a man, anyway.”
He still looks confused. “You can’t?”
“I can. Maybe. I don’t know. Luke’s father was… unkind.”
“What do you mean unkind?”
I’m hoping he doesn’t make me say the words. “Rough. He was older and not gentle. His goal was a child. He didn’t care about pleasuring me.”
His expression shifts with understanding. His hand comes up and cups my cheek. “Do you trust me?”
“I don’t know you.”
“Gabby, do you trust me with your body?” He leans forward, his tongue brushing over my lower lip. “I’m going to make you come. Many times, if you’ll let me.”
My body shudders in anticipation. “Yes,” I whisper.
He moves to my ear. “We’re going into my bedroom. Once we’re in there, you give me control. I will give you what no one else has.”
This is probably a terrible idea. But he’s promising pleasure. One night. That’s all I want.
“Okay.”
He takes my hand and leads me upstairs. Instead of going toward my room, we turn in the opposite direction. He opens the door at the end of the hall. I don’t get a chance to look around his bedroom. He flicks on a lamp and turns to face me before I can even take in the sheer size of the space.
“Undress.”
Just that. One word.
“I...”
“Gabby.”
My name again. His voice is husky. Powerful. Commanding. How can he put me in a trance just by saying my name?
I pull my shirt over my head. His eyes track every movement. I reach back, unhook my bra, and let it fall away. His gaze drops to my breasts. His lips part, and then he looks at me again. Hunger. Raw and undisguised. I reach for the button of my jeans.
My fingers are trembling. I get the zipper down, push the denim over my hips, and step out of it. I’m standing in front of him in nothing but cotton underwear, and his eyes haven’t moved from me.
“Everything.”
I hook my thumbs in the waistband and push them down. I straighten and resist the urge to cover myself. He looks at me for a long moment.
“On the bed. On your back.”
“What about you?” I ask.
“Gabby.”
I might experience an orgasm just with him saying my name.
I move to the bed and lie back against the dark covers. He’s still fully dressed when he comes to stand at the edge, looking down at me. He reaches out and runs one finger from my collarbone down the center of my sternum, between my breasts and over my stomach. My body shudders.
“Beautiful,” he says. Just one word. Very Nikolai.
Then, he lowers himself onto the bed beside me and puts his mouth on my throat.
I gasp. His lips drag down over my collarbone and across my chest. When his mouth closes over my nipple, I arch off the bed, and my hand flies to his hair.
He sucks, circling his tongue before clamping down with his teeth.
I make a sound I’ve never heard myself make.
He works his way down my stomach, pressing open-mouthed kisses to my ribs, my navel, and the soft skin below.
His mouth finds the inside of my thigh. He takes his time there, lips and tongue tracing upward with excruciating slowness until I’m gripping the sheets.
“Nikolai,” I murmur.
“Spread your legs,” he commands.
I should be embarrassed. I spread my legs. He stretches out alongside me, his hand resting on the inside of my thigh.
“You’re wet,” he says. “Are you sure you’ve never come for a man?” he asks.
“I’ve had orgasms, but…”
“You did it yourself.”
“Yes.”