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There are footsteps outside the door. Voices. They're close.
Nick does nothing to slow down. He shifts his weight. There's a zipper coming undone, a condom unwrapping. His hands go to my hips as he positions me.
No one opens the door.
We're still alone.
With one swift thrust, he enters me. It's deep. Hard.
I gasp. Fuck it. I can't stand keeping my volume down. I do nothing to temper my moans.
One of his arms slides around my pelvis to hold me in place. The other plays with my nipples, one at a time.
There's no more teasing. Nick thrusts into me. His movements are hard and fast, like he's letting down his guard.
I do the same, rocking my hips to meet his, pressing my fingers against the wall.
He groans. His nails rake down my back. It's a hard, violent motion. Sure to leave a mark, especially in my backless dress.
He's marking me.
God, I love him marking me.
I turn my head to press my neck against his mouth. He bites me. The pain is so intense it pulls my attention away from the orgasm building in my core.
I don't care. I need to feel his release, his desperation.
He bites harder.
I groan.
Harder.
I scream.
I take a deep breath, relaxing my body into his, focusing on every sensation.
Nick is here. In this moment, he's mine, and I'm his. In this moment, we only exist to fulfill each other.
He bites me again.
It's too much. I can't take it. "Red."
He stops instantly. His mouth goes to my ear and he sucks on the lobe. His fingers dig into my thighs.
His breath is heavy. Erratic.
There are more footsteps. They get closer. Closer. The handle turns.
The door opens an inch or two. It closes. No telling if the person saw and ran off, or if they changed their mind.
We almost got caught.
We can still get caught.
The thought makes my sex clench. I let my eyes close and I surrender to the pleasure building in my body.
Nick's hands go to my hips. He guides my movements.
Almost. I groan. There must be someone on the other side of that door.
Still, I groan as loudly as I can.
He does the same. The sound of his bliss pushes me all the way to the edge. With his next thrust, I tumble into an orgasm.
My world is bright, and warm, the most beautiful shade of purple. My sex clenches around him as I come.
A few more moments and he's there, digging his nails into my thighs, sinking his teeth into my neck. He's here, with me, in this moment.
I never want to lose track of him again.
I never want to lose him.
I shake my head to regain my senses. It's just sex. It makes you feel things sometimes. Clouds your judgment.
But I can't shake the thought.
It's like something is missing when he pulls out and adjusts his clothes instead of wrapping his arms around me.
It makes sense. We can't exactly linger here.
But I hate it.
He brings his mouth to my ear. "I'll be back in a minute."
He climbs the stairs and pulls open the door to the second floor. Like he knows something I don't about an empty place to clean up. Like I'm not the first girl he's fucked in this particular stairwell.
I focus on the noises outside the door as I slip into my clothes. There are voices, glasses clinking, footsteps, laughter. But it feels far away.
I'm so caught up in the sounds of the room that I don't notice Nick's return until he's wrapping his arms around me.
I don't feel cold anymore. Nothing is missing.
It must be the sex messing with my judgment. I take a deep breath as Nick slides his arm around my waist and leads me back to the main room.
It's just sex.
No big deal.
A dozen people look at us. All of them know we were fucking in the stairwell.
My cheeks flush, but the risk of embarrassment feels like nothing compared to the risk of my feelings.
He smiles as he fills out some form to collect my winnings. I melt. All I ever want is to see him smile again.
"Are you sure about the car?" he asks.
I nod. Even that seems less scary.
Our ride is a sleek black town car. The driver opens the door for me with a polite nod. I step inside and slide to the end of the bench.
I was wrong. This is too hard. Too terrifying.
I try to reason with myself.
It's only a ten-minute drive to his apartment. Speeds in the city are low. The chance of a crash bad enough to hurt us is almost nothing.
My hands are shaking as I buckle my seat belt. I can't back out now. I'll disappoint Nick.
He slides in after me. Despite his considerable height, he sits in the middle seat, fastens the belt, and takes my hand.
It's sweaty as hell but he doesn't complain.
The driver slides into the car. "Where to?"
Nick gives him my address. So I'm not invited over. It means something, but my thoughts are in messy squiggles.
Nick runs his fingers through my hair. Leans in close. "If it's too much, tell me. We can walk."
"But what about—" I nod to the briefcase.
"I'll figure something out." He stares into my eyes. "Promise you won't suffer in silence."
I can't lie to him. I have to mean it. Deep breath. "I promise."
The car turns on.
I've been stuck in a car a dozen times or so since the accident, but it's been a while. The movements feel jerky.
We pull onto the main street. I take a deep breath.
We're going a reasonable speed. We haven't died yet.
The driver slams on the brakes. I squeeze my eyelids together. Nine minutes to go, give or take. That's too many. I can't do it.
"Lizzy." Nick runs his fingers through my hair. "It's okay."
"Right. No big deal."
"Don't bullshit me." He presses his lips against my forehead. "I won't let anything hurt you."
I shake my head. "You can't protect me from another car." My body tenses. We're still here. I go to reach for the door handle. I can't be in here anymore, but I can't roll onto the road. We're going thirty miles an hour.
"It's okay." He wraps his arms around me, holding me close. "I've got you."
His touch is so comforting. Not enough to counter being in a car. But enough to keep me from jumping out of the fucking door.
It's the best thing I've ever felt, his arms. His lips. His voice, when it's like this, soft and sweet.
> Again, the car jerks to a stop. There are horns honking.
All my muscles tense at once.
"I can't do it. I'm not strong enough." I squeeze Nick's arm until his skin turns white.
"You are." He runs his hands through my hair. "You're the strongest person I know."
"You don't mean that."
He pulls me closer. "I only say things I mean."
His words are confusing. No more talking. I tug at his jacket. Not close enough. I tug at his shirt instead.
He runs his fingers over my skin with a gentle touch. It calms me just enough to make this bearable.
I lean into his comfort. We'll be done soon. I can manage a few more minutes. Even if I have to do it with my eyelids squeezed together.
Deep breath. I try to forget about everything except Nick's touch, but I can still feel the motion of the car, still hear the whir of the motor.
"We're almost there." His fingertips trail over my neck.
I lean into the gesture. It soothes me. I manage to pry my eyelids apart. We are close. Just a few more blocks on Broadway. The street is empty.
It's going to be okay.
Still, I close my eyes for the rest of the ride. Finally, we park in front of my building. Nick helps me out of the car with a soft touch.
His hand slides around my waist as he leads me into the building. Into the elevator.
It's just us, alone. He looks into my eyes like he sees through me.
He does. He sees too much.
The elevator arrives at my floor. Nick leads the way. He digs into my purse to find my key, unlocks the door for me.
I grab the purse back as I step inside. He saw too much of me. I can't let him see any more. Not with the terms of this relationship. It's already going to hurt so much when I lose him. If I get any closer...
It will be unbearable.
He steps inside after me. Closes the door.
"I should get to bed. I'm tired. And I'm meeting Kat for brunch early." I go straight to the bathroom, strip to my underwear, wash my face, brush my teeth.
He's standing there in the hallway, all strong and untouchable.
"Thank you for the poker. And the rest." I adjust my bra and underwear in the hopes of feeling less exposed. It doesn't work.
Nick's eyes scan my body for a moment. Then they're back to mine. "Of course." He motions to the briefcase. "I am a man of my word."
"Oh, right. Take your half."
He opens the briefcase, slips a few stacks of hundred-dollar bills in his slacks, then nods to me. "Do you want this here or in the safe?"
