In the Nick of Time (35 page)

“Mmmm…” he knocked her legs apart with his knee, securing his position as his narrow hips and long legs made themselves comfy between her thighs.

“I can, uh…fix you a drink to help you relax.” An air of huskiness caught in her throat as she toyed with the man a bit, delaying what she knew she needed just as much as him.

Without further ado, he rose from her, his dark brows bunched up like Oscar’s from Sesame Street. “What? You have a
what
?!” His anger was unmistakable, and he seemed to dance around with the notion of disappointment and utter disbelief, too.

“No!” She laughed, shaking her head, finally catching on to the source of his reaction. “Not
that
type of drink, crazy!” She pointed across the way. “I’ve got some lemonade! Alcohol free!”

He looked over to her little display she’d set out just so and his shoulders slumped as a look of relief took him over, a wicked smile paired with it, too.

“Oh…you had me worried for a second. I’m sorry.” After a moment or two of silence, his tempestuous eyes hooded but the covetousness and deep desire within them lingered, alert and fully awake. He leisurely traced her skin with his index finger, journeying along her arms and shoulders, working her up, giving her goosebumps from his mere touch. “I don’t want any lemonade, baby. I kinda got a taste for something
else
…”

Nick fell back
upon her, kissing her up and down her neck, forcing a series of light laughs to roll from between her lips as, ‘Dance Yrself Clean’ by LCD Soundsystem played. She cocooned him close, wrapping her body around his as if he were that damn tree where he’d stolen their first kiss. “So thirsty…” he whispered as his pelvis moved against hers, more and more demanding.

“Oh really?” Brow raised in jest, she kissed him back, tiny, sweet pecks sprinkled across his beautiful face, relishing the moment. “And you think I’m serving what you hunger for, huh?” She smirked up at him, egging him on.

“Oh, I
know
you have
everything
I need on your menu, baby.” He slicked his tongue inside of her mouth as he ushered his hands under her body, lifting her up from the sheets in a swift, hard embrace, forcing her onto his lap until they ended up both sitting up and facing one another, her legs wrapped around him.

“Mmmmm.” She moaned against his lips, loving how his strong body surged hard against her own. He worked his tongue alongside hers, inviting her to a delicious dance of oral tango as his arms and hands urgently brushed against her back. With grace, she accepted his love by wrapping her arms around his neck, encircling his body with an eager embrace while her legs surrounded his waist. She relaxed against him; his upper thighs became her seat and the man sent her there…drove her to fever pitch.

And then, he paused.

Looking into one another’s eyes, they fell in
deep
.

“Hey…” His lips widened in a roguish grin.

“Hey yourself…” She smiled back.

“So, you know that they uh, they tested us for everything in here. I don’t have anything.”

“I know. I took a look at your chart in the nurse’s station the second week you were here.” He grinned and shook his head in disbelief. “You need to watch your cholesterol… must be all that bacon you eat,” she added.

“You little, sneaky ass woman!” he joked.

“Uh, uh, now,” She shook her finger in his face. “Don’t get mad because I’m in the know.” He burst out laughing and pulled her closer to him. “And you are free to look at my records, too. I had a little thing called cancer… No biggie. It’s gone, at least for now.” She held his gaze, didn’t flinch.

“Cancer’s not contagious.” He winked at her. “And I’m so glad you’re in remission. You’ve been doing well…your last MRI showed no signs of active cancer cells.”

She gave him a quizzical glance.

“Yeah… you’re not the only one that reads around here!”

“Oh my God! The security in this damn place isn’t worth
shit
!” She laughed harder, but he squelched her uproar by pressing his lips briefly into her own.

“It was there, on Frieda’s desk, so I helped myself is all.”

She smiled into his lips as he claimed another kiss.

“And…what about pregnancy? Are you taking anything?” He laid another kiss along her cheek, this one more urgent.

“I’m not on any birth control because of the other medication I have to take, and there is possibly a link between—”

“Yeah…” His smile faded. “You don’t need to say it. I figured as much.” She didn’t miss the disappointment that crossed his face.

“Right, so… there are no condoms in this place for obvious reasons.” She swallowed and shrugged, then held him tighter. “I don’t even know if I can get pregnant anyway, Nick. It’s all up in the air.”

…Don’t go, baby…

“Well, I can pull out.” He smiled at her as he caressed her chin.

“Nick…” She chuckled lightly. “Come on now.”

“I can, I’m serious.” His brows furrowed as if he were a tad insulted. “I know when it’s about that time. I mean, yeah, there’s always a risk.” His eyes hooded. “I want you so badly, baby… Please don’t make me wait any longer. I promise to be careful!”

She kissed him with all of her might as her passion exploded. Their mutual caresses increased in intensity, each one more heated than the last. He grinded and twisted against her, dancing, pushing his groin into her at each pass. He groaned into her mouth as they worked one another up. Before she knew it, Nick pulled away from her, and laid her down as gently as a baby in a crib. Everything appeared soft and pillowy around her, damn near enchanting.

He reached for his hoodie, pulled it off him and cast it aside, messing his hair a bit. Lifting her ass from the bed, she reached down for her shorts and removed them, tossing them alongside his sweater on the floor. She relinquished all control and opened her thighs, inviting him to take a peek at the core of her desire. First though, he removed his undershirt and then went for the elastic band of his pants, his gaze glued to her zone. He bit into his lower lip and smiled, giving her the stamp of approval.

When he chucked his pants across the room, something fell hard to the floor. What that could have been, she didn’t know nor care for before she knew it, warmth surrounded her in the way he stared into her eyes, with the anticipation of soon being
within
her…

With eager hands, he explored her body, taking his time, and she clamped her eyes closed, almost swallowing her damn self as he roamed over her chest. She couldn’t help but breathe a bit faster, harder, squirm in his grip. She wanted to escape, to run from her own flesh…the same flesh that made her practically rich, then betrayed her and stole her dreams away.

“Hey…” he panted, damn near out of breath. His hair stuck up in odd places, giving her a focal point. She wanted to look anywhere but in his damn eyes…not those eyes the color of life right after the typhoon… the ones that told the truth even when his mouth probably lied time and time again… “What’s going on?” he forced out.

She turned away, her cheek pushed into her pillow. Now all she saw was the damn wall that her bed was pushed up against… Flat, bare, and void just like
her
. She dared herself to look him in the eye.

“I…I don’t want you to touch me there.”

His head cocked to the side ever so slightly and his brows dipped in bewilderment. She turned away from him once again.

“Touch you there? Where? Your breasts?” His breathing remained jagged, uneven.

“Yes.”

“Why not?” He swallowed harshly.

Instead of just saying okay, and making love to her, the bastard had to push the issue! She should’ve known he wouldn’t just let the shit go…

“…Because I don’t like it, okay?” Her heart rate accelerated as the anxiety deep within her mounted and grew, spreading like weeds in a garden.

“Let me see you, Taryn.” He rose up on his knees and slid his hand across the top of his boxer shorts, adjusting them just so.

“You
can
see me.”

“Don’t play games with me,” he said in a deep, stern voice that made her throat rumble. “You
know
what I mean.”

She said nothing, only turned away.

This shit isn’t going as planned! Everything is falling apart.

Before she knew it, the man yanked her up off the bed.

“What are you doing?!” She protested in an angry whisper, not wishing to draw attention to the forbidden with a loud outcry. “Let go of me!” She writhed and twisted about, but he was too strong… much too strong.

“Or what?” His brows dipped as he turned back towards her and paused, yet keeping his vise-like grip on her wrist. “Come here,” he demanded. Before she knew it, the room was shrouded in light. He’d flicked the fucking switch, causing her to bat her eyes and blink too many times to count. The shit was blinding, tearing up her pupils…made her feel as if she were on display…a doll on the runway…

He quickly let her go, but before she could return to bed, crawl under the sheets and hide, he moved behind her, blocking her escape… and then… he pressed his need into her ass. Hard. She didn’t know what the hell he was doing, until he gently took each of his hands, framed her face, and made her face the mirror, forbidding her from turning away from her own damn reflection.

“Take your shirt off.” He said the shit strongly, like black on black coffee with a dollop of motherfucking nerve.

She swallowed, ran her bare foot over the other, and gripped the fabric of her tank top, becoming possessive over the damn thing.

“No!” She’d fight… she’d fight him with everything she had, goddamn it.

“Why not?” he growled, but then softened and pressed a tender kiss on the tip of her ear. They glared at each other in the mirror—together, reflecting back their dual images. He looked like he belonged right where he was, and so did she…

“Because…”

“Finish your sentence.” He trailed kisses down the side of her neck, made her melt against him…
Into
him.

“Because I don’t… I don’t want you to see it.”

“I know what’s going on.” He wrapped his arms protectively around her waist. The head of his cock prodded her ass, insistent. “You had your breasts removed, didn’t you?”

She hung her head, then nodded before looking back into the mirror. She hated herself as her eyes stung with the heat of a fresh batch of tears.

“Yes! They’re both gone.” She cleared her throat, held her head a bit higher. “My body is… it’s…I have a scar from the catheter port hole used for my chemotherapy, too. I… can’t believe I’m still crying about this!” She held her forehead, embarrassed, ashamed at the way she was reacting.

So fucking what! I’d made peace with this… didn’t I?

He nestled his head in the gap of her neck, kept forcing her to keep looking at him and her in the mirror…taking it all in. When she focused solely on the man, a feeling of awe hit her hard. He had the most beautiful smile on his face, like a ray of sun and a slither of moon, framed with rows and rows of bright, new stars.

She noted no judgment in that smile. No disgust or pity. Simply … need.

Acceptance.

Caring…

…He takes me as I am!

But how long would that last? When he saw—really saw—how damaged she was, would he still stand there, wanting her?

Her heart pounded in her ears, the beat overwhelming her.

Taking that sensitive earlobe between his teeth, he gave it a gentle tug before switching position to come to stand between her and the mirror. Bereft of the heat of his skin against hers, a chill scuttled down her back. He became her
new
reflection—the looking glass that threw her fears, insecurities, and helpless thoughts to the wayside. He kept his eyes glued to hers, not blinking, not flinching. She shuddered as she felt her shirt slowly lifting.

up…
uP…
UP…

…it went…

He lingered, raising the thing inch by inch as he kept staring into her eyes… as if they had
all
the time in the world. A tear fell from her left eye…and then another… yet, a part of her was relieved, at peace. She didn’t want to hide any longer and she knew deep down that this very moment would one day arrive.

That day was now.

Once he got the material of her shirt to her collarbones, he paused. His eyes were filled with love, with assurance, with desire and trust.

Can I trust you, Nick? Really, truly trust you?

She didn’t dare ask him, let him have further proof of her vulnerability.

I trust you, Nick… I do.

After a few moments, his gaze leisurely drifted below. At this juncture, she prepared herself for a look of disgust. For judgments.

She held her chin high, trying to convince herself that she no longer cared, that he simply caught her at a bad moment, and all was well now… She was ready for him to turn the light back off, not say one goddamn word and try to forget the whole ugly ordeal. She was primed for him to walk out…but…

He didn’t.

Instead he smiled a bit wider, and lifted her top higher, so he could see better, and gently traced her slightly raised scars. She fell apart then, trembling from his touch.