Second Chances with St. Nick

8. Secrets and Santa

8

SECRETS AND SANTA

N ick’s room was better lit than the corridor, and I could make out more of him—the unmistakable blond of his hair and the way he held his shoulders. I followed him inside, tightening my eyes at his broad back. Did he have on red velvet pants and a jacket? And why was there white fur trim at his neck and wrists?

He led me to a leather couch, and I sank into its cushions. I held my hands out toward the indistinct glow of a smoldering fire. Nick busied himself on the other side of the room. A clinking of glass and the soft glug of liquid made my lips bow. He had a mini-bar too; it seemed.

“Who did you have to bribe?” I asked, pointing at the hearth.

He huffed a laugh. “I have friends in high places.” He handed me a glass of what smelled like brandy.

I closed my fingers around it, taking a sip. “Mom always told me I shouldn’t take drinks from men who wear velvet. Or was it strangers? No matter. Either is probably good advice.”

Nick gave a slow shake of his head. “And I shouldn’t be drinking on the job, but with this storm, I won’t get any more deliveries done tonight.”

I was about to ask him what he meant but was spectacularly side-tracked as he sat down beside me, stretching out his thick, muscular legs. The couch creaked as he settled.

This close, I could make out the hazel of his eyes. Sandy lashes fringed their edges. Time had lightly scored the bronzed skin of his forehead and as I leaned closer, the size of his body dwarfed me.

Electricity hung in the silence between us, and a hot flush moved through my body. Could he hear the hammering of my heart?

Nick tapped at the edge of his glass with his fingertips. Was he waiting for me to speak? He hadn’t let me talk last night—let me apologize for my behavior all those years ago. But I had him like a captive audience now. I had to try again.

“Thank you for rescuing me. I always seem to get myself in the most ridiculous scrapes.”

Nick took a sip of his drink. “I remember.”

I paused, but he didn’t say another word. Was he going to make me beg? I mean, I probably deserved it, but still. I shifted on the couch and wound my fingers through my hair.

Nick pulled in a breath. “What is it, Abbie?”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep looking at me.”

Busted.

“I’m sorry, it’s just without my glasses I can’t see you clearly. But from what I can make out, you’re dressed as Santa. I guess I didn’t have you down as a man who wore fur or hung out with reindeer.”

The apples of his cheeks lifted a touch, and I wished I had those glasses on to see his smile.

“Maybe I enjoy dressing up. I might’ve been heading out on a hot date with Mrs. Claus. Maybe the snow sidetracked me.”

Why did the idea of him being on a hot date with anyone leave a nasty taste in my mouth? “Are you telling me you’re married now, Nick?”

I aimed for humor, but his smile faded. “No. I’m not married.”

His voice was so quiet; so gravelly. My toes curled. The sound of his breath filled the space between us. It came faster than it had a few seconds ago.

“Nick...?”

“No, Abbie.”

I pulled myself up, tucking my legs under my body. “What do you mean, no?”

He took a mouthful of his brandy. “I told you last night. I don’t want to revisit the past. There’s nothing to be gained from it. We’re two different people now.”

I drew my brows tight. He wasn’t wrong. I was a newly single narcissist survivor, and he had the build of a yeti. Not to mention he was hands down the handsomest man I’d seen in forever. But I needed to tell him what happened all those years ago and why. I needed him to hear me and even if he could never forgive me, I needed him to understand. To see I hadn’t set out to hurt him.

I ran my eyes over his face. Though I couldn’t see him in twenty-twenty, I could tell he’d locked his jaw tight and stared straight ahead. A log popped on the fire, throwing sparks into the hearth. The sudden flare of flames lit an idea in my mind. A way to get Nick to listen to me.

I reached for his arm, and he turned his head toward my hand.

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk about… us. About what happened.” I pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear, gathering my thoughts. “And I don’t blame you. I messed up, and I can’t change that. But maybe we can try something else?”

Nick let out a long breath. “What do you mean?”

“How about this—we’re strangers tonight. I’m just a girl called Abbie, stranded at a hotel on Christmas Eve, and you’re…” I glanced at his Santa suit with a small smile. “You’re St. Nick. And I need to ask you for something.”

The silence between us gaped like a chasm, and my body fizzed. Like I’d tip into the void if he didn’t respond.

Finally, gloriously, he replied. “I’m listening.”

“Just for tonight, let’s pretend we’re not us. You don’t have to be Nicholas, and I don’t have to be… well, the girl who made the biggest mistake of her life.”

He turned his body to face me, and I ran my fingers over his velvet sleeve.

“You want to role-play? You’re serious?” he asked.

I mean, it could sound a little kinky in the wrong circles, but I’d try anything. If I played this right, I could get him to open up to me. I nodded. “Why not? Neither of us are going anywhere tonight.”

After the longest beat, he lifted his eyes to mine and shifted on the leather. “Okay. You’ve got St. Nick’s full attention. Tell me. What do you want for Christmas?”

I took a deep breath, my pulse bouncing somewhere between unhinged and completely chaotic. “To start over,” I whispered. “I want to find my way back to an old friend. And maybe I need St. Nick’s help to figure out how.”

His chest rose and fell fast before he nodded. “Well, I guess I should ask if you’ve been a good girl this year.”

The playfulness in his voice sent a tingle down my spine.

“Define good,” I said. “It’s all relative.”

One of his brows shot up, and a smile settled on his mouth.

“I mean, I may have done a few naughty things.” I took a sip of my drink. “May have upset a few people.”

“How so?” he asked, his gaze pinning me to the leather.

And boy, if I didn’t unload like I was on a psychiatrist’s couch. I told him about my ex. The controlling, the undermining, the split and how, as a parting gift, I’d sliced up his designer wardrobe with a set of garden shears.

Nick shook his head. “I know that asshole. He made the naughty list this year. I left him a lump of coal in his stocking.”

I smiled as Nick played along. Warmth bloomed in my chest—that familiar, easy feeling I only ever had with him.

With a sigh, he shook out his ponytail. In the shadows, I took in the sight of his tapered waist. I opened my mouth, about to ask him how he burned off all the cookies and milk the kids left, but before I could speak, he reached over and brushed a strand of hair from my face. His touch burned into me and the familiarity of the gesture set my pulse racing.

Letting out a slow breath, I ran my hand over the skin where his fingers had been. “I wasted too many years on my ex.” My voice trembled and, as if sensing my sadness, Nick slipped an arm around the back of my shoulders. Without a second thought, I relaxed into him. The warmth of his body radiated through his jacket, caressing my neck. My heart swelled and a weird calm settled over me.

Nick felt like home.

“Tell me, where were you headed when the storm hit?” he asked. “I had to park my sleigh around the back.”

I smiled again. My mind swam in the heat of the room, and I turned to him. “I’m home to see my folks. My cousin’s getting married.”

“Nice,” he said. “Are the two of you close?”

I nodded. “We are. I mean, I haven’t been back to town as much as I’d like, but she’s visited me, and we speak often.”

The leather couch creaked as Nick shifted. “You must be looking forward to spending time with your family.”

My gut tugged. “Honestly? I hate being home again.” I knocked back the last of my brandy. “Pinewood Springs, where I grew up, is too full of memories. You probably know the town. It has a lot of kids.”

The corners of his mouth tipped up a little. “Good or bad memories?”

I leaned my head back against the couch. “Mostly good, but a few bad. Small town folks with small town minds—you know the drill. I couldn’t wait to get away in the end.”

Silence hung in the air between us, but Nick closed his hand over my shoulder, circling his thumb against the cotton of my robe. Goosebumps skittered across my skin and my breath quickened. Holy hell! He’d sent my senses into overdrive with one simple action. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I imagined that thumb doing the same thing elsewhere.

Nick’s voice dragged me out of my fantasy. “There must be something you liked about Pinewood Springs?”

I opened my mouth to answer but stopped short when he tipped his glass back to finish his drink. With the movement, the sleeve of his jacket fell away. I narrowed my eyes, straining to make out his forearm. Fair hair dusted each muscle, with a patchwork of symbols etched into his skin. As the marks danced in my astigmatism, I made out a trail of musical notes that disappeared up toward his bicep. My heart skipped. They matched the charm he’d given me. The one currently tucked away in my purse. I’d taken it off before my bath.

“You have tattoos?” I asked, fighting an overwhelming urge to touch his skin.

Nick pushed a breath out of his nose. “I do. Each one tells a story. But you didn’t answer my question. I asked if there was anything you liked about Pinewood Springs.”

As his thumb continued its hypnotic, circular motion, I stole a look at him from under my lashes. With his jaw clamped tight, I swear he barely took a breath. The room contracted around us, and I gripped my lip between my teeth. “Well, there was one good thing.” I stared into the warmth of the fire. “There was Nicholas.”

After a pause to rival the break between every Bridgerton season, he spoke. “Tell me about Nicholas.”

As I gazed into the flames, a gentle smile settled onto my lips. “Nicholas was my friend. The only one I truly trusted. The one who knew me best. He understood what it was like to be me.”

Nick tipped his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

I let out a little chuckle, lifting the corners of my lips higher. “According to everyone in school, the two of us were nerds. He played the violin, and I was plain and smart. The cooler kids hated us. I mean, really hated us.”

Nick put his glass down on the table next to the couch. “You don’t look like a ‘nerd’ now.”

I nibbled on my lower lip, selecting my words. Working out how to tell him everything without making him run for the hills… again. After a few seconds, I spoke. “Well, as time passed, I grew prettier. Unfortunately, I grew weaker too, and I let Nicholas down.”

I nestled into Nick’s soothing warmth. He didn’t pull away. Instead, his thumb continued its circles on my arm.

“After I ditched my glasses, I got a lot of attention from boys. They’d never noticed me in that way before, and man, it felt good to be seen. To be admired. Not laughed at.”

Nick let out a tiny growl next to me. Not an angry noise. More like he was shifting the breath around his body. “So?” he prompted, his voice whisper quiet.

“So, it wasn’t long until I’d morphed into one of the popular kids, while Nicholas stayed the same.” I tightened my fingers around my glass. “The interest I got flattered me. I never had so many compliments. I craved the attention and the excitement. Having power like that was something so new to me.”

“I can imagine,” Nick murmured, his thumb still skimming my arm.

Could he, though? Could he really understand what drove my stupid choices? I shook my head. “But it wasn’t all good. I drifted away from my best friend. The one person who’d always been there for me. I should’ve been stronger, but we were so young, and I’d become so wrapped up in my world that I forgot who I was inside.”

Nick stopped his thumb’s slow journey around my shoulder. I swallowed hard. These words were the ones that I’d dreamed of saying a million times, but now I had the chance, they lodged firmly in my throat.

“Then one day, Nick came to see me.”

After a long pause, he began his thumb’s caress again.

“He told me he wanted to be more than friends. Said he loved me. Asked me to the Snowball with him.” I turned to face Nick. “It’s our town’s big Christmas celebration. I promised I’d go, but when the night came, I let my ego take over. Instead of meeting Nick, I went to the ball with Pine Springs’ star quarterback.”

Nick let out a tiny breath next to me and invisible fingers grabbed at my gut, twisting hard.

“I know. It’s bad,” I said. “Nick still showed up for our date, but instead of meeting his oldest friend, he met ridicule.” I fidgeted with the corner of my robe. “That same quarterback had bullied Nick for most of his school years. I’d chosen the one person who made him feel small and miserable.”

Nick pushed out a wry laugh. “This Nick guy sounds like a loser.”

My gut twisted again. “No. He was incredible. Beautiful. And I humiliated him.”

On autopilot, I lifted my empty glass to my lips. Nick took it from me, our fingers touching for a tingling second. He put the glass down on the side. “Tell me, what did Nicholas do?”

I pulled my lips into a grimace. “He took off. Everyone was laughing at him. It was horrible.” I turned to Nick, searching his face for some kind of reaction, but he just stared straight ahead, a vein pulsing in his temple.

“Next morning I tried to find him. His folks said he’d gone to stay with family in the mountains.” I shook my head, trying to loosen the ropes of guilt that bound me all these years. “I never saw him in person again. I wish I could see him now.”

Nick brought his thumb to a stop. “What would you say? If you saw him, I mean?”

I drew in a shaky breath, my chest tightening as the words hovered on the tip of my tongue. My pulse quickened and all the moisture left my mouth. “I’d tell him I’m sorry. That I should never have treated him so badly and,” I paused, “I’d tell him I felt the same way. I’ve never loved anyone like I loved Nick.”

He let out a gentle sigh next to me, and the brandy that lingered on his breath mingled in the air.

A tug of something inside drew me closer toward him. “I’ve left it too long. He probably hates me.”

Nick gently picked up my hand, enveloping it with his own. His fingers curled around mine like bindweed—rough, powerful fingers—and my heart raced again. I ran my tongue over my lips. Every inch of his skin was a temptation, and my throat tightened at the thought of his hands touching my body, stroking the loneliness and tension away.

Nick spoke, breaking into my thoughts. His voice sounded lower, thicker than I remembered. “He could never hate you. You’re too beautiful, inside and out. I think he’d remember all the good things. The special times you had together.”

I rested my forehead on my palm. “Before I messed everything up, you mean?”

Nick shifted beside me, gently taking my wrist and placing my hand on the other one he already held.

“No. But I’m going to give you some advice from St. Nick. It’s Christmas. You need to look forward, into the future, not backward to the past. The true spirit of the season is one of loving, sharing, and forgiving. You’ve shared your story with me tonight and I’m sure Nicholas would try to forgive you if he knew how you felt.”

Nick paused, then turned to look into my eyes. He brought my knuckles to his lips.

“That only leaves us one thing to explore… if you’d like.”

I widened my eyes, and my heart thumped in my ears, threatening to burst out of my chest.

He’d mentioned “loving…”

“Could I make Christmas better for you, Abbie?” he asked, his soft breath dancing over the back of my hand.

I stared into his eyes, blinking under their laser-like intensity. This man was so far from the shy Nick I remembered. The goofy guy I’d loved had gone, replaced by a quiet, confident rock of a man. Maybe my cruelty all those years ago changed him forever. But as I raked my eyes over his face, over the bulk of his body, my breath thinned. “What did you have in mind?”

One side of his lips peaked, and the air crackled between us. My fingertips itched to touch him—ached, even—and I leaned in, my gaze firmly on his mouth. I burned to kiss him. I needed to taste him and trace every tattoo on every inch of his skin.

Unweaving my fingers from Nick’s, I reached out to brush his face, tentatively at first, but the delicious ache low down in my belly told me all I needed to know. Our breath came fast as I trailed a slow path along the beard at his jaw, coming to rest at the back of his hard neck. I gently drew him in, desperate to bring his lips closer to mine. “Nick,” I whispered.

He shook his head slowly, his eyes alive with hunger. “Remember, tonight we’re strangers.”

I bobbed my head once, and a smile split his face. “Then come and sit on my knee and tell me what you’d like for Christmas.”

My whole body fizzed. I didn’t need to be asked twice. Reaching over, he pulled me easily onto his lap, and I brought my mouth to his. Gently at first, I savored his softness. He smelled sweet and warm, and I had to wonder why I’d stayed away so long. Why had I ever been so stupid as to let him go?

I ran my tongue along his bottom lip and Nick opened his mouth to me. Our tongues met and circled, slowly at first, but soon we moved together faster, urgently. His beard scraped against my lips and with the pull of his heat, I hung on for dear life.

He tasted delicious, all cinnamon and brandy. My brain swam in a sea of sensation. As we tangled tighter, Nick circled my waist with his large hands, his thumbs working my skin through my robe. As they crept up my ribs, my nipples pebbled against the soft cotton and an ache low down pleaded silently for him to touch me.

My body wanted Nick. Needed him. Plain and simple.

I rocked my hips into his, finding his hardness. Moving my lips to his neck, I dragged my fingers over his solid shoulders and down his chest.

A guttural groan escaped his mouth and at his deep growl, my core ached even more. Emboldened, I kissed him harder—deeper—until he shifted under me.

“Stop,” he hissed, pulling away.

A burn ripped through my chest. Had I done some damage? Had I broken him? Did he have regrets? I searched his face for a clue.

“Buckle,” he panted.

“Wait, what?”

“My buckle. Hold on.”

As easily as he’d lifted me on, Nick moved me off his lap and back onto the couch. A bubble of delight sprang in my chest. Unlike some, he didn’t seem to have a problem with my “extra curves.”

With a groan, he stood, towering over me. I couldn’t tell if he was looking my way, but when he reached down and undid his belt, I felt the burn of his eyes searing me. The leather slapped as he pulled it free, and my cheeks flamed when he dropped it to the carpet. If only I could see clearly! The hazy blur of being half-blind was pure torture.

Once he freed his belt, he kicked off his heavy boots and brought his fingers to the buttons of his jacket. “It’s getting a little hot in here. Do you mind?” He undid the first, then the second, then paused.

At the delay, I bit the side of my lip. “Oh, I don’t mind at all,” I said, desperate for him to continue his Christmas strip show.

Nick moved through his buttons, one by one, taking his time, before finally shedding his jacket. He laid it over the back of the couch. Even with my unfocused vision, his body was magnificent. Strong and firm, and…

“Holy hell, you look incredible.” My voice came out raspy and thick with lust. Maybe I should have been subtler, but honestly, who had the time?

He chuckled. “I work hard.”

With a low grunt, he nudged the table away with one thick calf, before dropping to his knees in front of me. He reached out his hands, taking mine, his eyes full of fire. This close, I could make out his tattoos better. They covered his chest and arms like he wore an inky jacket.

“I think you’ve got some choices to make,” he said.

My stomach dropped. Was he about to go all “deep and meaningful” on me? It was all I’d wanted earlier, but couldn’t we just play pretend a little longer?

“I do?”

Nick nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, you do. I’m here for you, but you need to decide if you want me tonight.”

I swallowed, a burn spreading up through my chest. “Want what?” I squeaked. I mean, I’d take whatever he offered right now, but a little clarification wouldn’t go amiss.

Nick let go of my hands and ran his palms up my thighs, nudging my robe a little higher. “Santa might have a gift for you.”

He threw me a wink, and I had to giggle. It was like all the barriers; all the regret and guilt of the last ten years had fallen away. Even after all I’d done, Nick was here with me. For me. Offering me anything I desired.

I took his face in my hands. “I want you. More than you know. But I’m not sure I’m built for leather.”

Nick ran his eyes over the couch then leaned down and kissed the inside of my knee. The touch of his lips and the scrape of his beard sent a shiver up my thigh, and I sucked in a breath.

“On the bed, then?” he asked.

I gave him a smile and shrugged. “If you’re offering.”

With a throaty chuckle, he got to his feet and bent to scoop me up. Held tight against his warm skin, I brought my lips to his chest. Even after all the years I’d known him, I never imagined that one day I’d kiss his naked skin. Not like this. With a sigh, I threaded my arms around his neck, and he leaned down to kiss the top of my head.

Nick carried me to the bed and laid me down gently. The thrum of my heartbeat echoed in my ears as he joined me on the mattress. Within a second, he pulled me to rest on top of him. All the breath left my lungs at the hardness of his body beneath me, his sheer size. With his enormous torso, I’d need supplemental oxygen to survive the night.

Fully intending to discover every inch of him, I leaned over, pressing my mouth to his chest. With my fingers, then with my tongue, I traced the outline of his tattoos—exploring his skin like braille. He felt so good under my hands, hot and hard. When he tipped his head in pure delight, I couldn’t contain my smile.

“I want you, too,” he whispered, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck. My heart skipped a little at his words, and the heat at my core ignited into a full-on blaze.

I nipped at his skin with my teeth, gently teasing. He slowly drew his hands down my back. Cupping my buttocks, he pulled me into him, fierce and hard.

A bolt of pure pleasure swept through my body. At this rate, I’d be coming like a freight train before we even started. I had to slow things down. Take a breath. I wanted to enjoy Nick. Lock our kisses away in my memory banks for lonely nights when I returned to California. There was no need to rush.

With superhuman restraint, I sat up, resting my hands on his abs. “I have to ask. Do you meet women in hotels often?” My voice was tight and thin.

A flash of teeth revealed his smile. “You know what they say about Santa only coming once a year? Christmas Eve is the only time I get to play. I need to make the most of my night.”

I grinned and shook my head slowly, running my nails over the indentations of the muscles on his stomach. Across the planes of his chest. Nick pushed up with one arm to join me. With his other hand, he moved my robe aside, exposing one of my breasts. Leaning in, he took my nipple into his mouth, biting me gently. Not hard, but playful. When I gasped, he pulled me back down on top of him and as the two of us melted into the mattress, I dug my nails into his shoulders.

With a growl, he arced against me. I flicked my eyebrows and reached down to work on his zipper. Nick shifted, giving me room to move. I nudged the heavy velvet down, and a glorious wave of wantonness swept over me. Pressed so close against him now—with his breath hot on my skin, I felt like a goddess. Divine, powerful, and beautiful.

Slowly, I released him from his pants and took his solid length in my hand.

“Abbie,” he groaned as I worked my hand along his length, teasing him. Giving him everything, then taking it away, again and again, until his breath came in heavy gasps.

“I need to be inside you,” he said, his voice hoarse and hard. “Do you want that?”

“Yes,” I said, trying in vain to control my breathing. I was a mess, and only the feel of Nick, and his arms wrapped around me, would put me back together.

Whispering words I couldn’t even process, he turned me over, brushing his lips over mine. “I promise I’ll be right back.”

I lay alone in the gloom, tugging my robe around my body. Nick reached for something beside the bed, and I pulled in the smell of smoke from the fire. After a long beat, a tearing of foil mixed with our fast breath. Thank goodness he’d come armed and dangerous. I didn’t like his chances of rustling up a condom at the hotel reception.

After a long beat, he rolled back toward me. He’d kicked off his trousers, and his skin glowed in the firelight. As he settled at my side, he rested an elbow on the mattress, head in his palm.

I glanced down. “Wow, you really do have everything you need in your sack.”

He grinned, moving his lips to behind my ear. “I need to be ready for action. You never know who you might meet by the chimney.” With a chuckle, he kissed the tip of my nose.

Nick took my hand, cradling it in his, and kissed my mouth softly. Slowly. Like he was savoring my taste. We were close enough I could focus on his hazel eyes and as they met with mine, a burn of embers filled them. Staying close, Nick pushed my robe open. His fingers trembled as he peeled it away.

He took me in, his breath catching as I smiled. This beautiful man wanted me—desired me. He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, trailing his fingers over my throat. Under his touch, my skin prickled with a thousand goosebumps. The heat of the fire and the hunger in his eyes mixed with the chill in the air, setting every nerve on high alert.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he traced his fingers from my collarbone, across my stomach, and then down, further still. The muscles of my belly jumped at his touch, like jittery addicts gone cold turkey as he passed over them—lower and lower. By the time he reached the apex of my thighs I was a mess. He gently nudged my legs apart and it was all I could do to hold myself together.

In one simple move, with his breath at my ear, Nick found my pleasure. I melted under his fingers, ready for all he had to give. As he touched me, he whispered words into my neck. I couldn’t understand him, but I didn’t care. His exquisite, teasing strokes drove me mad as he weaved magic, drawing me higher, then letting me fall before catching me again. As Nick worked, his tongue lazily circled my nipple, slowly, then faster, before he took it into his mouth.

I reached for him, desperate to pull him in, to feel all of him. But he stayed on task until I was a shivering wreck. With his fingers deep inside me, I threw my head back. “Please, now.” Clawing at his chest, I was on the brink of exploding, and I wanted him along for the ride.

With a glorious grin, Nick moved on top, and, giving a low growl, buried himself inside me.

The pressure, the heat of him, was all I could focus on.

He moved slowly at first, each long, purposeful thrust stealing my breath… stealing my mind. With each stroke he kept pressure on the desperate bundle of nerves at my center, his thumb moving in the same pulsing, circular motion it had earlier. Under his touch, and his pounding rhythm, thunder rolled through my body.

The sensations he brought were like nothing I’d ever known. Pure bliss. I’d never abandoned myself to another person like this. But tonight, exquisite pleasure and the beautiful man moving above me consumed every fiber in my body. And I wanted to own every single, delicious moment.

I wrapped around his hips and with a grunt, Nick drove into me harder. His ragged breath grazed my ear as his body met mine, slick with perspiration. He’d shut his eyes as if he was in his own world. Was he thinking of someone else? Hell, I didn’t care. All that mattered was his heat against me. Inside me. Over and over.

After what felt like hours, his circling thumb, the intense focus on his face, and the friction of skin against skin nudged me toward the edge. Bit by bit, tiny waves of euphoria engulfed me, as fingers of desire traced over my body, pulling me deeper into an ocean of exquisite pleasure. Lower and darker, drawing me into a bottomless expanse. The room closed in around me, and I teetered on the edge, letting out a long, throaty moan.

Hearing me, Nick opened his eyes, watching me with hunger. He said my name as he pushed even harder, even deeper.

Keeping a relentless rhythm, he drove me higher than I thought possible, until with his fingers at my center, and his hardness deep inside me, I came to a shuddering climax around him.

Only when I’d released my nails from his skin did he succumb to his own pleasure. With a gravelly growl, Nick buried his face in my neck, rocking into me over and over, until finally, we stilled together.