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He reached down to grip her waist, hitching her up onto his hips and carting her over to Donovan’s far too neat desk before she could do more than gasp. He deposited her on the blotter and hooked his fingers in the dainty strand of pearls around her pale throat. “It’s been too long since I’ve bound your wrists with pearls.”
Her lashes fluttered. “This is a place of business.”
Hmm, he’d expected more of a refusal than that. Maybe his dirty side had rubbed up against her own innate one enough to kill some of her prim and proper side. Or else she knew how to torque him just right.
Only one way to see.
“It is. And he made a mistake of leaving me alone with you in here when all I can think about is spreading you out and fucking you on his desk just like I wanted to fuck you on yours that night after the concert. The night I finally got to touch you.” He tugged lightly on the pearls as her pupils blew wide. “I wanted to from the very first time I saw you. Such a good girl, and all I wanted to do was tarnish you.”
She wet her lips and wound her legs around his hips, not so subtly drawing him in closer. Into all that heat he couldn’t wait to sink into. “Not so good.”
“I might’ve forgotten. Since you work so much and I barely see you now.”
Her throat rippled against the backs of his fingers, still tangled in her necklace. “I didn’t want to break down on you, and I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t.” She let out a dry laugh and tossed back her head, the ends of her sultry blond hair trailing over the desk. “Then I did anyway, except I did it at the doctor’s.”
His mind was already scrambling from the sight of her tight breasts swelling against her blouse, straining the buttons until they nearly popped. But the word doctor cut through all of that. “Why were you at the doctor?”
Her head lifted and her laughter faded into a small, regretful smile. “I’d made the appointment in October to make sure all looked good to go off my birth control. The appointment itself wasn’t until late January. I was thinking after the holidays.”
He blinked. “Huh?”
She laughed again, and this time, it stuck around. She sat up more and cupped his cheeks. “Still want another baby?”
He didn’t have to think. “Of course. But you weren’t in any hurry—”
“Yes, well, time flies. The last few months proved that, didn’t they?” She turned her head. “I almost cancelled after the show.” Her shoulders shook. “After Randy and Ricki.”
“You changed your mind.” His newly rising joy was snuffed out, just like that. “Not the right world to bring more kids into, blah, blah, blah.”
“That’s a reasonable thought, but no. I said I was afraid.” She closed her eyes. “The idea of getting pregnant will always scare me because of my miscarriage. Add in what happened, and I just didn’t think I could risk anything else. Maybe people only get so many miracles, and I’m asking for more than my share. We already have so much with the girls—”
“That’s bullshit. This world doesn’t hand out participation prizes. You want something, you go for it and you grab on with both hands. And you fight like hell anyone or anything who tries to rip what you love away.”
She opened her eyes and nodded. “Why I’m starting counseling, to help remember the good. The reasons to fight and not to let the fear win. It’s also why I spoke to Donovan about bringing in grief counselors to Ripper, so they’re available for all the tough guy and girl rockers who don’t need help from anyone, ever.” She watched him far too intently. “This way, they’re on site and someone can go once or ten times, their choice. No one needs to feel pressured or has to seek help on their own. It’s available if they want it.”
His throat felt too tight, and his ribs ached as if he couldn’t take a full breath. Almost unconsciously, he untangled her legs from around him and shifted back, bumping into Donovan’s rigid desk chair and sending it skidding over the sleek floor. Probably marble or some crap. Always the best for the big boss man.
Nick gripped his neck and turned away, fleeing to the window like the coward he was.
Of anything she could have said, this he’d expected least. She wasn’t anyone he would’ve ever assumed could need counseling. As for himself, the idea was laughable. He wasn’t a guy to easily spill his feelings to people he cared about, never mind strangers. And she believed any of his friends might want to either? Not hardly.
Maybe Jazz would. She was open to shit like that. Gray too since he’d been in rehab and his feelings had basically been dissected like that night’s catch of the day. But Simon? Hell no. Well, maybe, because of Margo…
Christ, Margo. And Deacon. And Harper.
God, they’d endured so much. Were still enduring it every damn day.
Because of the man Nick had given every chance to, again and again. Even when it didn’t make sense. They’d gone back so far, and his buddy deserved another chance. And another and another.
Randy wasn’t getting any other chances, and he hadn’t needed them in the first place. He’d been so fuckinggood, such a decent, stand-up guy, and what had he gotten for his trouble?
Nick shut his eyes and pressed his forehead to the cool window. Anything to stop the thoughts slamming through his head like bullets from a machine gun.
“Hey.” Lila’s hand on his back was gentle. Soothing. “You don’t have to speak to someone. No one does. But I’m glad the option is there. I think it should be, don’t you?”
He wanted to laugh it off. To say he was fine. Before he’d walked into this office, he’d convinced himself he was. He was still hurting for the people he loved. Of course, he was. But after those first crushing, numb weeks following the show in New York, they’d been in rehearsals again. Deacon had been on a modified schedule because of Harper, and Margo had needed to take more breaks to spend time with Jules, but for pockets of time, there was a sort of stilted normalcy.
Now they were going on the road—their first overseas gigs, for fuck’s sake—and instead of excitement, there was trepidation. At least on his end, and he was positive he wasn’t the only one. He didn’t want to leave Li and the girls. And it wasn’t just because he hated leaving them, period.
