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The blindfold comes off, and it takes me a few awestruck moments to notice we’re sitting on a plush collection of pillows and blankets in the middle of some room.
I glance around the space. Hues of blues, deep greens, and blacks flood the room. A projection ofStarry Nightsways across the bare walls, and I stretch out my hand, watching the long tendrils of Saint-Rémy-de-Provence reflect against my skin.
The image changes, turning the room into a vast green meadow.
“This is…”
“I know, right?”
Overwhelmed, I exhale the air gathering in my lungs.
“I figured we could rest those tired feet of yours after I made you suffer through the bike ride,” Nico says casually.
“Mhmm.”
We spend a few minutes watching the slides of artwork change, our necks following the patterns of brushstrokes across the room.
When I glance at Nico, he returns a warm look, his fingers squeezing my bare knee.
My eyes melt into his tender pools of brown, and there’s more than a longing gaze that meets me there, more than some hidden erotic intention. It’s as if Nico were an archer aiming for the one shrapnel of vulnerability still inside me and he struck the target without breaking a sweat.
He’s so painstakingly different from anyone I’ve ever known, ravishing and sentimental wrapped up in a possessive and warm-hearted package.
He has taken a piece of me with him this summer, whether he knows it or not.
“Nico?” I edge closer to him, shrinking the distance between us.
“Yes, love?”
I know I’m making a terrible mistake when my lips connect to his.
This kiss feels different. Not just because of the rule I’m about to break but because of how safe I feel in his arms and how safe I want him to feel in mine. Selflessly.
I ache to be brave enough to give myself to him fully, but I haven’t surrendered a piece of myself to a man in years.
What would it be like to give in to the desperate look that keeps finding me in his warm gaze? A look that begs for our arrangement to turn into somethingmore.
Something real.
As we kiss, I can taste the fantasy of Nico and me not hiding behind our list of rules.
A life without secrets.
Is that something I’m even capable of?Lust doesn’t magically equate to another four-letter word.
I climb over to him, straddling his waist. My skirt rides up, and Nico’s cock surges under the denim of his jeans as he drags me against him.
“Fuck,” he curses between our exchanges of breath.
I keep trying to reach for clarity, but it’s hard to ignore how much I’ve thought about this moment. Daydreams that were vivid enough to write about.
“Lily.” Nico’s hands deliberately wrap around my breasts. Each touch fills a lake of yearning. “I know we said no sex, but if we keep going like this, I’m gonna need to be inside you.”
My stare connects with the dark lust nestled in his eyes. Beneath the hologram of colorful brushstrokes dancing across our skin, my electric need turns on like a city regaining power.
“Do you have a condom?” My hands reluctantly leave his body to pull my shirt over my head.
His mouth traces over my breasts, tongue circling over my sensitive nipples. “What about the rules?” he breathes on my skin.
