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Maria is probably going through those early stages of grief, I conclude as I collapse into bed, too exhausted to do more than kick off my heels.
But if I had spidey senses, it so would have been going off right about now.
Chapter Seventeen
Nico
I lean down and kiss the back of her neck as I withdraw from her body. She’s panting, her hands still on the wall, her body glistening and slippery from the hot water sluicing down on us. Already, I’m thinking about another round, and when she pushes off the wall and turns around, my cock grazes her hip. She glances down at my sheathed cock, the tip of the condom filled with cum.
“Nico, how are you still hard?” Her voice is breathy.
I only shrug. “Because I’m not yet done with you, and your gawking isn’t helping either.”
“You’re going to make me late for work, and you know my Monday morning client needs a lot of work to get him settled.”
I don’t know who the hell the guy is, but an irrational possessiveness grips me. Sophie’s words, like a massage therapist’s hands, have the unique ability to shift from a soothing caress to a tough pummeling. Something tells me this chap gets the caressing.
“Sounds like some snot-nosed, high-maintenance Wall Street kid.”
“Nico Vitelli!” She snaps, her eyebrows drawing together in a clear sign of disapproval. “Besides, you couldn’t be more wrong about him. It shows you how you can’t just stereotype.”
“Noted. But doesn’t it get emotionally draining sometimes, though?” I think of my own experience with Maria. I’m pretty sure I’ve started getting some grey hairs since she came under my protection.
“It can be a little frustrating going around in circles, but no, I wouldn’t call it draining.”
“Yeah, I forgot. That’s your playground. Anyway, I’ll see you later tonight.”
“Actually, Nico, I can squeeze in a lunchtime slot for you.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Why, that’s awfully accommodating of you, Dr. Kellan.”
“Well, it has been a while since you had therapy, Don Vitelli,” she deadpans. “We don’t want you spiraling out of control.”
“That’s very true.” My smile carries a teasing edge. “I do often find myself reeling, especially from the depth of your greed for my cock, Dr. Kellan.”
She gasps, a flush creeping up her cheeks, which only makes me chuckle in amusement. “You’re despicable,” she attempts to sound outraged, but her laughter bubbles up as she collapses against me.
The sound of Sophie’s unique laugh—the way she snickers—tugs at something deep within me, making me feel almost superhuman for making her do it. It’s a feeling that quickly morphs into wanting more, craving the many other sounds only she can make. And so it never ends.
In the past twenty nights, eighteen have been with Sophie. I kept expecting the thrill to fade, the attraction to cool, and the peculiar bond between us to weaken. This relentless desire for her, for all of her—body and mind—has only intensified.
I want to do more than fuck her. I want to hold her, shield her. I just want… more with her.
As our laughter slowly subsides, she glances up, her gaze locking with mine. In her golden eyes, I spot the flicker of a question—the same one I’ve seen lurking there every morning.
“What is this, Nico?” She finally asks, her voice is soft but firm as her fingers trail down my chest.
“What’s what?” I play for time, knowing full well she’s not prepared for my honesty. I've never shied away from uncomfortable truths, unlike Sophie, who prefers to dance around them. And the truth is, this is turning into something more than it was ever meant to be.
“It’s just sex, right? A casual fling,” she presses, seeking clarity. “You can be honest, Nico. I can handle temporary. I grew up around plenty of it.”
“Does this not feel temporary to you?”
“Well, yes... and no. It’s a little confusing,” she admits, a hint of vulnerability in her voice. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“What’s confusing about it?”
“It’s like a never-ending one-night stand. We talk every day, you’re here every night, yet I’m kept at a distance from your real life. It’s as if I’m your dirty little secret. I don’t even know where you live—not that I need to, or want to,” she quickly adds.
