Page 92 of She’s Worth the Risk

He thrusts hard, hitting that spot deep inside, the one that makes the pleasure crest. I moan, throwing my head back, emotion rising hot inside me.

“In my life.” His words come out choked, as if they’re stuck in his throat.

“I need that too,” I say hoarsely, chest aching as he kisses me hard, arms banding around my back.

“I’d do anything for you, honey.”

My heart presses against my ribs, and I hold him to me, taking every one of his brutal thrusts. I’ve never felt so raw, ripped open by Nick’s words.

“I feel the same,” I sob, burying my face in his neck. In that perfect warm spot I can’t imagine living without.

“I need you to come,” he rasps, fingers snaking between my legs to stroke my clit in rough circles. “I need to feel my girl come.”

His girl.

He draws back to meet my gaze, eyes dark and glassy as he pumps into me, thumb relentless on my clit. He wants to watch me. He wants to see me fall apart for him.

And that’s all it takes. Pleasure combusts in my core, radiating out from head to toe. I quake under his touch, pulling him deeper inside me, breathless and dissolving as my orgasm rockets through me.

“Oh, fuck,” Nick grunts, hips stuttering as he spills into me, eyes hot and burning, never once leaving mine.

We stare at each other, breaths rapid and uneven. He gives me a slow, lingering kiss, then peels me off the filing cabinet, turning away. For one awful moment I think it’s because he can’t look at me, because he said so many vulnerable things, things he didn’t mean to, but when he turns back with a crumpled tissue from his jacket pocket, I realize what he’s doing. He always does that. Always makes sure to care for me after. My heart turns to mush.

“Thank you.” I watch him kneel in front of me to clean between my thighs. Seeing him on his knees gives me the courage to ask, “Am I really your girl?”

Nick frowns as he rises, like he can’t understand the question. “Fuck yes.”

My heart backflips in my chest. I watch him stuff the tissue into his pocket and push his glasses back up his nose. Gran called him my boyfriend. What do I call him?

“I want…” An awkward laugh slips out of me. “Maybe this is silly, but I want you to be my boyfriend, Nick. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and I want it to be you.”

He gazes at me tenderly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I want that too. That’s…” His exhale ghosts across my lips. “That’s all I want.”

I stare at him, handsome features illuminated by the projector, the image of Venus still on the wall behind us. Hearing those words means everything to me, and yet…

“But how…” I begin, unable to finish the words. As if I don’t want him to realize how impossible this is.

He releases an agonized breath. “I don’t know,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze returns to mine, and he softens, taking my hands. “But I meant what I said, Zinnia. Every word.”

“You want me in your bed?”

He nods without hesitation. “I need you there. If you want to be there.”

“Yes,” I breathe, fingers tightening in his.

“Then I’ll give you a key to my apartment.”

A key. I’ve never had a key to a boyfriend’s place before.

I’m still getting used to the boyfriend part.

“I don’t know how we’ll make this work, honey,” Nick repeats, stroking his thumb across my cheek. “I just know that I have to try.”

36

ZINNIA

At midday on Saturday, Daisy, Iris, and Poppy arrive at Gran’s to set up for the baby shower. Violet and the other guests aren’t coming until one, so we take our time setting up Gran’s living room with a photo corner that has fun props, a card station for people to share unhinged advice, and a guest-book. Daisy has collected items for Violet’s “survival kit,” and the masseuse will arrive at one for an hour of unlimited foot rubs. My contribution is the drinks, given I’ve worked in multiple bars during my varied career. I created two signature mocktails, one with mint and lime flavors, the other with vanilla and espresso notes, and brought some craft beers for the guys.