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Cheryl’s brain spun in all different directions. How could she explain the deal she made with her father and Johnny? She wasn’t ready to admit to him all the ways she fucked up, so she slipped her hand between them and palmed him. His low growl made her work him harder.
Two seconds later, he pushed her hand away. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
“Is it working?” She flashed a smile hoping to tease the scowl off his face.
“We come up here have mind-blowing, off the charts sex, basically picked up where we left off ten years ago, and then you tell me you’re not sure if you wanna leave that bastard.”
“I didn’t say that, I said, it wouldn’t be easy.”
“Why not?” Nick pushed himself up on the bed. “If he’s pressuring you just let me know. I got resources out here with a lot of pull.”
“You don’t understand, it’s . . .”
“Whatever you got to say, just say it.”
If only telling the truth didn’t come with a thousand strings attached to it. Johnny would never let her go if it jeopardized his image. If she pushed and went back on her word he would definitely seek revenge against Nick. He’d made his animosity toward Nick clear the other night in the limo, and she wouldn’t be responsible for putting everything Nick and Samson worked for at risk.
“I have to work it all out. I need some time.” An impossible feat.
Nick rolled away from her and jackknifed off the bed. He scooped up his pants and tugged them on. “We’re not kids anymore and I’m not gonna play games.”
“I’m not playing games. I really do wanna be with you but . . .”
Nick threw on his shirt. “Either you wanna us to be together or you don’t.”
“You’re not giving me a chance.”
“Look, I’ve thought about you for ten years. I’ve tried to get over you, tried to move on, but it didn’t work. Then outta nowhere you’re here in Vegas, in my life again.”
And Portia. The right thing would be to tell Nick about his daughter right now, but how would she explain how she kept his daughter from him for ten years. He wouldn’t understand her fear of possible rejection. At the time, her decision made sense to her, but now she didn’t have the right words to explain her distress. Anything she said would surely come out wrong and be misunderstood.
“We’ve wasted enough time.” Nick tucked in his shirt and slipped on his shoes. “I’m not waiting any longer. You either make up your mind or . . .”
Cheryl swung her legs over the bed. “Are you giving me an ultimatum?”
“I guess I am.” Nick spun around, stormed through the suite and out the door.
12
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Ten goddamn years and I finally see Cheryl again and she’s hooked up with a loser like Johnny Russo.” Nick paced the carpet of his office above Wicked.
Samson poured them each a bourbon, then motioned to the couch. “You’re gonna wear a hole in the carpet.”
“We have hot, sheet ripping sex, I tell her to leave the bastard, and she says it’s complicated.” He stopped pacing and faced Samson. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Complicated.”
Samson shrugged his shoulders. “Could mean a lot of things.”
“Says she needs time to sort shit out, and I told her to stop playing games. All she has to do was go home, tell the bastard she’s done, and leave. People do it all the time.”
“Then what happened?”
“She pissed me the fuck off with all her lame excuses. So, I got dressed and left.”
“So, instead of talking about shit you stormed out.” Samson shook his head with disbelief.
Nick dragged his hand through his hair. “Yeah.”
“I guess you know what I’m gonna say.”
