Desire Me Now (19 page)

“I could suck these pretty things all day.” He wanted to squeeze her breasts together
and bury his face in them—hell, bury his cock there and fuck them like he was fucking
her sheath. Another time.

Nails digging into his shoulders, her orgasm came hard and fast. She threw her head
back as high-pitched mewls fell from her lips. Her sheath milked him like a fist clamping
around him, and he was two seconds behind her release, shooting hard inside her.

“Fuck,” he muttered against her breast, kissing, licking, sucking hard on her nipple
as she drew out every drop of semen he had. He slowly relaxed his hands where he grasped
her bottom tight.

Replete, she collapsed on top of him, her forehead resting against his shoulder. His
cock twitched inside her, only temporarily satisfied. He could take her again right
now. As tempting as it was to lock themselves away for the rest of the day, they had
to be careful. While he didn’t care if the house knew they were more than employee
and employer, he had a sneaking suspicion she would care.

He kissed her neck, her jaw, and finally her mouth. She didn’t object, just flicked
her tongue along his as he delved deep into her mouth. When he pulled away to look
at her, her eyes were sleepy. He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip, loving how
she felt on him, around him. He hated that they had to fix themselves, to be presentable,
even though he wanted to toss her back on the sofa and ravage her all over again.

A
melia didn’t know what had come over her. She’d come down to the library only to see
Nick, as she’d been contemplating thoughts of her brother all day in private. She
wasn’t exactly sure how to extricate herself from his lap, so she stayed where she
was as he lazily kissed her. Her body felt well used, deliciously sore, and satiated.

He was still hard inside her, as though he could never get enough of her, of what
they did. The thought of continuing for a second round had her blushing. She hid her
reaction by pushing herself from his lap. As she pulled away from him, a rush of fluid
trailed down her leg.

Nick stood, tucking his hard penis back into his trousers, a pained expression on
his face.

“Have I hurt you?”

He smiled the smile of the devil. Pure wickedness washed over his features. “Far from
it. I will never get enough of you.”

She yanked up the front of her dress, trying to cover herself before she lost control
and gave herself to him again. Would that really be a bad thing? The back of his knuckles
caressed a seductive path along the top curve of her breast. She closed her eyes for
the briefest of moments. Just to feel him. Nothing more. He was undoing every bit
of control she prided in herself.

There was no denying that this man made her crazy. She wanted him with a fierceness
that was so different from every reaction she’d had to other men.
He
was different from them.

Right from the start she’d fallen a little in love with him. She’d never believed
in love at first sight, and she supposed it wasn’t truly at first sight, but it had
been shortly thereafter that she’d wanted to lose herself in him.

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he kneeled in front of her. One of his hands
disappeared under her skirts and lightly brushed over her knees and thighs before
he wiped away the evidence of their lovemaking. She stood paralyzed by a choking shyness
that stole the rest of her thoughts and had her blushing from her temples, all the
way down to her chest.

It felt strange, allowing him such liberties. Amelia lightly cleared her throat as
she started to button up her bodice. Nick had turned her into a nymphomaniac. She
wasn’t even sure how she knew such a word. But it perfectly described her.

Nick balled up his handkerchief and shoved it back into the pocket of his trousers
as he pulled his shirt over his head and tucked it in place.

A rakish grin set over his features as he watched her poor attempt at doing anything
but focus on him. She’d never hide what they’d been doing when a handful of buttons
at the front of the bodice were torn or missing. It was stupid, but it made her want
to cry.

Nick caressed the side of her face. “Why are you upset?”

She took a steadying breath, giving up on the buttons. Nothing she could do would
make her look less disheveled. “Any woman who just did what I did would suffer from
. . . embarrassment.” She couldn’t even voice her thoughts aloud without blushing.
She bit her lip. “In the midst of everything with my brother, I feel ashamed by what
we have done.”

“I think we should cure you of this
embarrassment.
”

Nick leaned close to her and cupped both her breasts, squeezing them together with
a groan. She didn’t have the strength to stop him, not that she
really
wanted to stop him. Still, a small sense of reason came through, and she forced herself
to push him away.

“A shame to cover them at all,” Nick said, handing her the shawl she’d been wearing
before their interlude. It would have to be enough to cover up the evidence of their
frenzied lovemaking.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as she turned away from him. “How I feel around you frightens
me.”

Her voice wavered, but she held her head high as she adjusted her skirts so she was
more presentable. It didn’t help. She felt as rumpled and disorganized as her dress,
as warring thoughts bombarded her mind.

“That’s the last thing I want,” he said.

“Your appointment book said you were meeting Lord Burley for dinner.”

“My appointments can wait.” Nick reached out to her, caressing the side of her face
with his hand. “We were only going to discuss our approach with Murray. Are you trying
to get rid of me?”

“No. I just need to change,” she said, which was partly the truth.

Nick grasped her hand before she could make her escape.

“This is all so new to me, Nick. My life has changed completely and in so short a
time. My brother, added to everything else, makes it all the more confusing. I just
need some time. To think.”

He let her go.

She didn’t question it, and didn’t look back as she left him standing in the middle
of the library, his hands tucked in his pockets. She had a feeling he wouldn’t leave
her alone for too long. She only required enough time to think about what she was
doing and what she wanted. Enough time to come up with a plan to deal with her brother
and make him leave her alone once and for all. If such a thing were possible. More
than anything, she just needed to think clearly, and she couldn’t do that when she
was around Nick.

T
he silence was killing her. The inaction from her brother disturbed her. But she didn’t
know how to find him, especially considering he didn’t want to be found. No more letters
had come, and waiting for something to happen made her edgy and nervous. Nick had
left only twice in the past few days. Huxley was there when Nick was gone. She wasn’t
sure if she should be thankful or if their constant presence would drive her insane.

In the past few days she wasn’t any closer to sorting out her feelings for Nick either.
There had been no repeats in the library, but their nights were another story entirely.

Unable to remain idle and wanting to focus on anything to keep her mind from straying
back to her brother, Amelia decided to finish responding to a few letters while Nick
worked in the study. It was hard to think straight with Nick sitting not ten feet
away from her. Every time she closed her eyes, the memories of their nights flashed
through her mind. The things that Nick had done to her, the things she imagined doing
to him. She pressed her fingers against her mouth, feeling the press of Nick stamped
into her very flesh.

She slammed the door on those thoughts as she picked up the silver letter opener and
sliced another envelope open. This was not an appropriate place or time for those
kinds of thoughts. And despite all they had done, she felt that Nick was holding some
of himself back.

Nick’s warm hands massaged her shoulders. She’d been so focused on her task that she
hadn’t heard him come up behind her. She moaned with each rotation of his thumb into
a tight knot that tensed up one shoulder. His touch was like heaven. It gave her comfort
and offered a sense of security.

Her life truly had been flipped on its head the moment Jeremy had come back into it.
But Nick had given her so many new memories to help her forget all the horrible events
in her past.

A firm knock came on the study door, startling her. She felt her face flame at the
idea of being caught, but Nick was already sitting back at his desk as the door opened.

She needed to learn how to control her blushing if she was going to carry on in the
illicit affair with her employer. If she didn’t hide her feelings and her reactions
to Nick during the day, someone would figure out what was going on with her and the
master of the house—though it was possible some already had guessed, not that they
had treated her any differently.

Mrs. Coleman entered the study. “A number of packages have arrived for you, Amelia.
Would you like to set them up in your dressing room?” Amelia looked at Nick, wondering
if she could be pulled away. “Or should Jenny and Josie arrange everything?”

Amelia pushed out her chair. She probably should have let Nick answer for her, but
she was feeling restless and needed to occupy her thoughts elsewhere. “I haven’t seen
what Miss Newgate selected. She surely selected something tremendously awful. I do
not mind bringing the packages up to my room.”

Glancing at Nick, Amelia saw his smirk. Was his reaction because he suspected the
mutual animosity between the two women? Perhaps he had detected the thread of jealousy
Amelia couldn’t keep from her voice. Either way, she didn’t say anything with Mrs.
Coleman there to witness their level of comfort with each other. Nick couldn’t expect
them to carry on as they were indefinitely. Or was this just how men carried on during
an affair with their mistresses? She internally cringed at likening herself to such
a thing, but that was essentially what she was. She’d have to discuss her future in
this household with him soon. The longer she put it off, the worse she felt about
every sin-filled night they shared.

As she left the study, she realized the only reason she fretted about the direction
of the relationship was because she cared for him. More than she probably should have
cared. What if he didn’t return that regard?

She focused on the task set before her. Entering the foyer, she pulled her shawl tighter
around her shoulders. The front door was open, allowing a rush of cold air to sweep
through the room. Boxes of every shape and size littered the entry table. “I do not
remember ordering so many things, Mrs. Coleman.”

“I wouldn’t complain, child. You will need it if you’re to attend business meetings
with Mr. Riley.”

“I suppose so, but I have never owned such extravagance.” A frown furrowed her brow.
“It feels wasteful.” And undeserved. As though the items were payment for something
other than her secretarial services.

“Cannot be wasteful when you’ll need to be dressed like a lady of means. What should
Mr. Riley’s clients and business associates think if you showed up to dinner in a
ratty old dress you probably stole from another maid?”

“No one cared how I dressed when I was teaching. Or answering correspondence. It’s
neither here nor there, I suppose. I will see how many more boxes remain.” Amelia
stepped outside. The cart her boxes were in appeared to be empty. A driver was perched
in the high seat, holding the horse’s reins. She curled her hands over her arms. “Good
day to you, sir,” she said with a wave.

He turned to tip his hat forward before she turned away from him.

A hand clamped around her forearm and yanked her forward. She let out a surprised
squeal as she tried to get her feet under her. But she was pulled too quickly and
tumbled against the tall, thin figure of a man as she half fell down the stairs.

She didn’t have a chance to regain her balance until she was on the pavement. Yanking
her arm away from the man who had accosted her, she fell on her bottom on the hard
cement beneath her. “What in God’s name are you doing?” She dusted off her scraped
hands before climbing back to her feet and getting a good look at the person who’d
dragged her down the stairs. She froze as the man stood tall, lifting the brim of
his beaver hat away from his face.

“Jeremy.” Her voice was but a whisper as she looked at her brother.

His skin was sallow, his eyes sunken as though he had binged on nothing but alcohol
since she had last seen him in Berwick. His eyes were the same blue as hers, though
they looked dead inside. He was impeccably dressed, though his suit looked ill fitting
to his thin frame. He looked like he was on death’s door.

“You look well, Amelia.” The venom with which he said her name paralyzed her on the
spot.

This can’t be happening
. “I can’t say the same for you.” She didn’t know where she’d found her daring tongue,
but she was glad to show him a braver side of herself. She would not be frightened
by him ever again.

“Cheeky, my dear. Watch your tongue before I mind it for you.”

She glared back at him, realizing she wasn’t so much afraid of him as she was disgusted
by who he was. How had he turned into this vile man? Before she could hold back, she
asked, “I cannot see an ounce of our father or mother in you, yet you are my own flesh
and blood. That alone shames me.”

“You always have been too sentimental, my dear. Had you learned your place in life,
we would have gotten on a lot better.”

“You mean had I gone through with the marriage to Lord Ashley, you could have continued
to pretend that life was grand—as long as he was paying you an annual allowance.”

Something dark crossed his eyes. Perhaps she had pushed him too far. But she would
not be led by fear. She would stand up to him once and for all—and maybe he’d leave
her the hell alone.

“It was a decent match, sister. Do not play it for anything less. You would have been
a countess. Any young lady would vie for that position. But you had to throw it all
away.”

“I refuse to marry him. He cannot marry me without my consent.”

“Do not be so naïve. There are a hundred vicars who would marry you to Ashley.”

This was not a battle she was going to win with her brother. “What do you want?” she
asked coldly. “I am expected somewhere right now.”

“I am afraid you will not make that appointment,” he said, making her feel suddenly
uneasy. The door to the townhouse was a stone’s throw from where she stood. She could
run for the door.

“Leave me the hell alone, Jeremy.” Picking up her skirts, she didn’t hesitate to make
her escape. She was halfway up the stairs before Jeremy hauled her back down, her
arms scraping raw along the way as she tried to protect her head as she fell.

Jeremy stood her up roughly, holding on to the shoulder of her gown. His hand hard
and firm, he slapped her across her face. “Such language from my own sister.”

She licked the blood from the side of her lip where it had split open. She wasn’t
surprised that he’d raised his hand against her; he’d done it so often before. Instead
of retreating from his violence as she previously had done, she didn’t temper her
voice as she yelled, “Let me go, you bloody devil.”

There had to be twenty people milling about on the street, watching the interaction
between them. Ladies in finery crossed the street to steer clear of the trouble between
them. A few gentlemen stopped to watch, though they did nothing to help her. They
didn’t know her, and for all they knew, she could be his wife, his charge.
His.
That thought had her stomach roiling in disgust.

Jeremy dragged her down the street, farther away from the safety of the townhouse.
She fought, punched, and tried to pry his hand free from her dress, tearing the material
in the process. “Someone. Please. Help me. Nick,” she all but screamed. “Nick. Mrs.
Coleman.” In a smaller voice, she begged, “Please. Jeremy, let me go. You hold no
right over me.”

“I hold every right,
sister
,” he said, loudly emphasizing the last word for those milling about, seeming torn
between helping her and turning their backs. They finally did the latter as if she
were some wayward sister in need of reprimand.

Her brother laughed. It was never a sound of joy when he laughed; it was too dark
to be considered mirthful. He lowered his hand to her wrist, his grasp unrelenting
as he pulled her along with him. She tugged back, trying to loosen his hold on her,
but he didn’t let up. “It is time I took you to see your fiancé, is it not?”

Bile rose in her mouth, and she nearly threw up right there, but she knew she couldn’t
appear weak. She needed to fight him off. She dug her heels into the ground, but Jeremy
only dragged her when she fell over.

She scratched at his hand, desperate to stop him. He turned around and smashed his
hand across her temple. Her vision went blurry, and she dropped like a bag of stones
to the street. The sudden action forced her brother to release her. She was too disoriented
to scramble out of the way, though by all accounts she didn’t need to, because that
was when she saw him.

Nick.

Nick. Thank God
.

He charged directly toward her brother as she pushed herself into a sitting position.

Mrs. Coleman’s warm hands came around her shoulders then. “Don’t you worry, child.
I have you. You are safe.” The housekeeper helped Amelia move out of the way.

Nick’s bulky frame smashed right into Jeremy’s, knocking them both down to the ground.
Nick’s arm came up and pummeled into her brother’s face, over and over again, unrelentingly.

Amelia cried out, “Please, Nick!”
You will kill him
, she wanted to say but not when there were so many spectators. She stood on wobbly
feet and wavered as she reached out to a wall to steady herself.

The wet smack of flesh as Nick hit her brother was the only thing she could hear above
the roaring in her ears. It made her sick, and she vomited on the pavement, with people
closing in on them as Nick never let up. Mrs. Coleman rubbed her back, saying soothing
words that Amelia didn’t really hear.

While there was no love lost between Amelia and her brother, she didn’t want to see
him dead; she didn’t want to be the cause of that. She didn’t want to be the cause
of Nick turning into this beast that seemed to have one purpose—destroying her brother.

As Amelia stumbled toward them, Mrs. Coleman tried to hold her up so she didn’t topple
over again. “Nick,” Amelia called out, “you have to stop. You’re killing him.”

Tears washed down her face. Not for her brother, but for what Nick had done for her.
For the beast she’d created because she’d been so stupid as to come outside alone
for even a moment. This was her punishment for letting her guard down and thinking
no harm would come to her.

“Stop.” She took another step, not sure how close she could get as Nick didn’t seem
to be aware that she was standing there. Would he lash out at her in his rage? She
didn’t think so, so she dared another step toward him.

“Nick,” she pleaded. “Nick, please. You have to stop.” She reached for him then, touching
his shoulder carefully, not wanting to be caught in the fray. He stilled and released
her brother. Jeremy dropped to the ground, his hands flying up covering his head and
face as though that alone could ward off Nick from his warpath.

Blood covered Nick’s hands, and splatters were all over his face. He reached for her
to wipe away the tears that tracked unbidden down her cheeks, but he stopped short
when he saw the mess of his hands. It appeared as if Nick was bleeding too, and that
thought churned her stomach. She went down to her knees to look at her brother. Thankfully,
he was breathing, though his breath was labored. Jeremy rolled to his side and spit
a wad of blood out next to her foot.

“You will pay for that, Amelia,” he hissed. “Do not think you can hide behind your
protector forever.” He spit again; this time, a tooth came out with it.

Nick’s arm wrapped around her waist, and he hauled her off the ground, away from her
brother.

Nick went after him again, only this time he lifted him clear off the ground so they
were facing each other. Jeremy’s feet dangled a few inches in the air. “Look around
you, you piece of shit.” When Jeremy didn’t comply, Nick shook him hard. “Look around
you. There are twenty witnesses to your actions.”