Page 43 of Two Weeks of Sin


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I pictured Nico in the shower, with water running over his naked, hard body, and felt myself blushing once more.

“Yes, that should be fine,” I said.

God knew, I needed a shower – a cold one to get those thoughts out of my head. I shouldn't have been thinking like that. It made me feel so dirty and wrong. I rushed into my private bathroom, turned on the ice-cold water and cooled myself down as best I could.

This was going to be a long vacation if I didn't get my libido under control.

CHAPTER FIVE

“A friend of mine suggested this place,” Nico told me as we ate fresh seafood at a small, local place.

There were no tourists besides us. The place was filled with locals, just out enjoying their dinners alongside us. The restaurant was quaint, charming, and the food was to die for.

“He insisted it's the best seafood in the Pacific,” Nico said.

“I believe it,” I said, biting into the shrimp on my skewer. “It's delicious.”

He looked pleased as he poured me another glass of wine. “I'm glad you like it, Sophia. Only the best for you.”

The wine was already getting to my head a little bit, and I was tipsy, which wasn't a good thing, given how sexy I found Nico. Even worse was the sudden realization that I wanted him – badly. I was a virgin and inexperienced when it came to men, but I wasn't a shut in. I wasn't some silly girl with a silly notion about waiting for marriage. I knew about desire and sex. And I knew that someday, it would happen for me,when I found the time and the right guy.

And maybe, I finally had.

I sipped more of my wine and caught him staring at me again. This time I'd caught him gazing at the cleavage peeking out from my sundress. I'd specifically dressed somewhat sexy – or as sexy as I could, considering my wardrobe. The strappy sundress had seemed perfect for the occasion – and for enticing my date. Or so, I'd hoped.

“I don't get it, Nico,” I said.

“Get what, Sophia?”

“Why you're spoiling me like this,” I said, staring down at my plate. “I mean, don't get me wrong, I appreciate it and am having the most amazing time I've ever had in my entire life. But I don't think I deserve it. Not like you seem to think I do. I'm just a normal girl who works in a diner in the Central Valley of California. I'm a nobody. And surely you could have your pick of gorgeous women.”

Nico reached across the table and lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You're not a nobody, Sophia,” he said softly. “You're a sweet, kind, and gorgeous woman. Any man would be lucky to spend time with you. And I'm only treating you the way you deserve to be treated.”

His eyes – I couldn't get past the way he looked at me. I'd never felt special about myself until that moment. I felt as if Nico saw something in me that I'd never seen in myself. He looked at me as if I was the most beautiful woman on earth – and he almost had me believing it.

“You really think I'm gorgeous?” my face burning as I asked.

“Of course, I do. I'd have to be blind not to,” he said. “Your smile lights up a room, your eyes are deep and soulful and kind. The first time I walked into the diner, I thought you were a knockout. When you greeted me, I felt my knees go weak and I wished I was fifteen years younger so I could ask you out without you thinking I'm some old creep. ”

He stroked my cheek before letting go. It was such a soft, sweet touch and it put a flutter in my heart.

“I don’t think I could ever think of you that way. You're the most interesting man I've ever met,” I told him. “And I meet a lot of men working in the diner. Believe me, none of them have ever compared to you, Nico.”

“I'm almost old enough to be your father,” he laughed. “I'd say that qualifies me as old.”

“But you're not,” I said. “You're not as old as my father. And thank God, you're not him.”

My voice cracked when I mentioned my father, and Nico seemed to understand that something was wrong. He stared at me, waiting for me to say more, and when I didn't, he finally addressed the elephant in the room.

“Your father isn't very nice to you, is he?”

At first, I wasn't sure what to say. My father didn't hit me or abuse me, so I wouldn't say he was mean to me. But he didn't care for me. Didn't love me – not the way a father should.

“Sometimes,” I said, choking up, “Sometimes, I feel like I'm a burden to him. That if I'd never been born, my mother would still be alive and his life would be better for it. Sometimes, I even think he blames me for our money troubles even though it's his gambling addiction that is the real problem.”

I'd never said those words out loud – not to anyone. And although, there was a sense of relief, it was accompanied by a strong sense of guilt. Nico put down his fork and stared at me, a look of sadness in his eyes.

I continued. “I mean, that's why he was willing to pimp me out for some cash. What father does that?” I asked, tears welling in my eyes. “He didn't even know you. Thank God, you're not a rapist or a murderer, but he didn't know that at the time, did he? All he cared about was the money. And God knows, in a few months, he'll probably just gamble it all away again and we'll be back in the same spot.”

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