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“That’s not necessary, Nic,” she said as Marc and Isa walked away.
“It absolutely is. You’re my—” Nic broke off, shoving a frustrated hand through his hair. “He doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”
There was a part of her that was desperate to know what he’d almost said, but another part knew it was better if she didn’t know. Better if she didn’t make what was between them—a baby—into more than it was, no matter how she felt about him.
“He’s just trying to protect you, you know.”
“Are we seriously having this conversation right now?” he asked as he escorted her off the dance floor. “He insulted you. Why are you defending him?”
“Because he’s your brother. And he loves you. Of course he’s suspicious of me—why wouldn’t he be after the trouble I caused?”
Nic looked at her broodingly. “I’m not suspicious of you.”
“Because you’re an idiot.”
“Hey!”
“Or maybe just the best person on the planet,” she continued as if he hadn’t interrupted her. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“Well, after we get back to the house, maybe I can find a way to help you make up your mind.” His voice dropped several notches.
She gave him her best sultry look. “Maybe you can.” But as she let him lead her out to the parking lot—and the limo that was magically sitting at the curb waiting for them—she couldn’t forget Marc’s words.
Any more than she could forget the look on his face when Nic had taken her side against his.
She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t be the one who divided the two of them. Couldn’t be the one who broke up the most important relationship in Nic’s life. She’d been alone. She knew how that felt, knew what it did to you deep inside. She wouldn’t wish that on anyone, let alone Nic. Wonderful, fun, exciting, beautiful, kind Nic.
But she couldn’t say that to him. How could she when he was holding her and touching her and looking at her as if she’d hung the moon?
There was a part of her that wanted to wallow in it, that wanted to wrap his affection around herself and snuggle in for as long as it lasted.
What kind of person would that make her, though? It would end—of course it would end, because it always ended—and then where would he be? All alone. She couldn’t do that to him. She wouldn’t do that to him.
But that didn’t mean she had to walk away yet. She could have this night, could have these last stolen moments with him before she had to give him up. It wasn’t enough—wasn’t close to being enough—but it was what she had. And she would make the best of it.
They didn’t talk much during the ride. Instead, they sat close together in the back of the limo, hands touching, legs brushing. By the time the driver pulled the limo to a stop at the top of Nic’s long driveway, Desi was practically vibrating with desire. With need. With a desperation that came as much from Nic himself as from knowing this would be their last time together.
The moment the front door closed behind them, Nic was on her. He whirled her around, pressed her back against the wall and then slammed his mouth down on hers. And then they were kissing, kissing, kissing, their mouths and tongues and bodies tangling together. She didn’t know where she left off and he began.
It was a powerful thought, a humbling one, and it nearly broke her. How could it not when she imagined how it could have been between them. How it should have been.
His hands slid up her legs, fumbled with her underwear. But she knew if she let him touch her it would be all over. She would be lost in the maelstrom of pleasure he brought her every time he touched her.
And she wanted that—her body was screaming for it—but she wanted to pleasure him more. She wanted to take him as high as he took her and then watch him shatter with the ecstasy coursing through him.
Which was why she pushed him away.
“Desi?” He sounded confused and more than a little pleasure drugged. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
She didn’t answer him. Instead she put her hands on his shoulders and
pushed, turning him—turning them—until he was the one with his back against the wall.
Once she had him where she wanted him, though, she took her time. If this was all she would have with him, she wanted to go slow, wanted it to last. Wanted it to be perfect.
She pulled his shirt from his pants, slowly worked the diamond studs through his buttonholes. Ran her hands over his smooth, hard chest and reveled in his groans, in the soft, sexy pleas falling from his lips as she undressed him completely.
And then she was on her knees in front of him, kissing and licking and stroking as he called out her name. The sound burrowed inside her, filled her up, filled her to bursting and her heart was so wide-open that she felt it break in two even as he fell apart around her.
