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For one breathless moment, she was there in front of him. Ripe for the taking.
That one night in Atlantic City was a blur to him now. This felt like another first. A second chance. Was karma offering him closure, or an opportunity for redemption?
Slow burn. Yes. That’s what it was. The need to take her rose through him like a forceful, uncontrollable wave.
“Nikki...” He whispered her name, not even sure what he wanted to tell her. If he hadn’t run away all those years ago, this woman might have been his.
Emotion burned his throat, scored him with pain, but not as much as the regret crushing his chest.
He wouldn’t let the negative emotions ruin this. Not now. Not tonight.
Carefully, he touched her center and found her wet and slick with heat.
Belatedly, he remembered the condoms in his shaving kit. He rested his forehead on her belly, breathing hard, shaking like he had a fever. “I’ll be right back.”
When he returned seconds later, Nikki turned her head and smiled at him. The look in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees.
He joined her again, but when she tried to curl her fingers around his shaft, he grabbed her wrist and held her at bay. “Later,” he said gruffly. “I don’t think I can wait.”
He took care of protection and moved over her, spreading her thighs and fitting the head of his sex at her entrance. They both gasped when he went deep. So much for wooing her with his technique.
Nothing about this was smooth or practiced. Just two people yearning, straining against each other. Her skin was soft and warm. When he lifted one stocking-clad ankle onto his shoulder, the sight of her shot another bolt of heat through his gut.
“I adore these stockings, Nikki. You look like a pinup girl from a wartime calendar.”
Her smile was sleepy and happy. “Glad you approve.” She raised her hips, urging him on.
Fear like he had never known intruded—a fear he didn’t want to admit. This was a mistake. Like that night in Atlantic City, he was rocked with wild emotions. He didn’t know how to control the feelings. This was more than sexual desperation. So much more...
What did it mean?
Now he and Nikki were forever connected because of Emma. He couldn’t pretend he was a ship passing Nikki’s in the night.
He had left her twice before.
In the midst of unprecedented passion, the knee-jerk instinct to run was strong. But even scarier was the yearning, the need to stay.
She cupped his face in her hands, testing the late-day stubble on his chin. Her eyes searched his. “It’s okay, Jake. Don’t worry about it. This is just you and me scratching an itch. No declarations. No promises. Give me what I want.”
“Gladly.” He closed his eyes and pumped his hips, breathing raggedly, blind with need and confusion. Nikki’s body welcomed him, drew him in, squeezed him. If he had been the kind of man to believe in love, this might have changed him.
But he wasn’t and he didn’t, so he concentrated on taking Nikki with him to the top and then holding her as they tumbled over the edge.
When it was over, they were both breathing heavily, the sounds audible in the silent room. He felt dizzy and warm and limp with satisfaction.
As he rolled onto his back, Nikki curled her body into his, her head resting on his shoulder. “Wow. You’re good at this.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He mumbled the words, his eyes closed. He was so tired suddenly that he teetered on the brink of unconsciousness.
After a few moments, Nikki stirred. “I have to go, Jake. It’s a long way back. Please don’t get up. You’re in a warm bed. I’ll grab a cab or a ride share.”
He tried to process her words. And then it hit him. Nikki wasn’t free to spend the night. He knew that, of course, but the knowledge had been pushed to the back of his brain. “I’ll take you,” he said.
“No, really.” She climbed out of bed and scooped up her underwear and clothes, then went toward the bathroom, still wearing the garter belt and stockings. God help him. “Stay where you are,” she said. “I’ll text you when I get home.”
He stumbled after her, pulling up short in the doorway to the small en suite. The long mirror over the sink reflected a woman who looked like a weary angel...if angels had red hair and white skin and a stubborn tilt to their chins.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I’m getting dressed.”
