Resisting Nick (Wicked in Wellington) (16 page)

Sammie shrugged. A pretty breast rose and fell each side of the mirror she held up for him. Bubbles clung to her skin. He reached out to touch, cupped her gently, and couldn’t resist running his thumbs across her dusky nipples.
 

She smiled and swapped the mirror for the razor. “Ready for the rest?”
 

When he didn’t respond, she reached down with her free hand and found his cock. That sharpened his attention in a hurry.

Just before midnight, Sammie sighed and stretched, conscious Nick needed to leave soon. She rubbed a bare foot over his calf and enjoyed the sensation of soft hair over firm muscle.

The apartment was quiet and dark, finally tranquil after several intense and passionate hours.
 

She smiled, listening to his breath flowing in and out. Occasionally he stirred or snuffled—a man at peace, at last able to escape from the torment and upheaval of his recent wrenching discovery. At least she’d been able to give him that.

She shouldn’t have gone to his parents’ home. His adoption was none of her business, and she hadn’t been the least help anyway. It was too much of a personal connection to him, and she’d vowed not to get entangled.
 

And as for joking about shaving him while they sat in his car once they’d left—look what that had led to!
 

But it felt intoxicating being able to do exactly what she wanted, when she wanted, with no concerns about Grandpa, querulous and worried, waiting for her to return home. And with no unease he might fall and hurt himself if she went out. She’d loved him very dearly, but her duty toward him was now complete.

So why, now she was free, had she started looking after another man? Consoling Nick, and putting herself in danger of falling for him?
 

She grimaced at her deceitful description of ‘consoling’. She’d made him a straight-out lustful proposition of sex last night. She was fooling herself pretending there was an element of friendly consolation. She’d made the first move and he’d followed all too willingly.
 

Why had she made such a terrible choice? Her boss!
 

And more than her boss. Her fascinating old partner in crime, too. The boy who’d stolen her heart all those years ago and somehow kept a corner of it. The boy who’d first stirred feelings that were dangerous and thrilling and secret. And who now stirred feelings too deep and special to admit—even to herself.

Just as well he’d be out of town tomorrow—it would give her a day to try and regain her equilibrium. A day and a night, because she’d booked his flight back to Wellington as late as possible so he could dine with friends.

And maybe she should do the same? She decided to see if Anita and Ray were free, and treat them to dinner as a thank you for letting her stay with them. It might have to be takeaways though, because their sons had school next day.

“You trying to wake me up?” Nick murmured, responding to her questing toes.

“I guess you need to go home and pack a bag for Auckland.” She snuggled a little closer, hating the thought of him leaving.
 

“Hand luggage. Just my briefcase.”

It felt magic to be curled against him, protected and warmed by his big body. She’d never in her twenty-six years spent a whole night asleep beside a man. “Do you want to stay?” she heard herself suggest. “I can set the alarm for early.”

Sammie, you’re crazy. Don’t make this harder than it already is.
 

“I’ll wake. I’m an early riser.”

She just bet he was...
 

“Hmmm...” she hummed sleepily, overcome with delicious languor at the thought of spending hours cuddled up with him. “G’night then.”

Nick must have made check-in with only moments to spare. Sammie smiled as she trekked up the stairs to BodyWork, remembering why he’d ended up in a mad dash an hour earlier.
 

His fault. Absolutely his fault. If he hadn’t insisted they’d showered together he’d have been out of the apartment much earlier, into his business clothes much earlier, into his seat on the plane much earlier. Instead he’d just been into
her
. And she really had to do something about it.

Waking to feel the weight of a well muscled arm around her waist, finding she was tucked back against a very aroused man who smelled like sin and sex, she’d spent a few slightly panicked moments wondering if she’d died and gone to heaven.
 

No, no dying required. Heaven available in big hot chunks.

“Come and wash me down,” he’d suggested, pushing the bedcovers back and standing rampant in the dawn half-light.

Sammie snapped on the bedside lamp. Oh. My. God.

“You start washing, I’ll make coffee,” she countered, knowing how much he liked a caffeine hit as soon as he arrived at BodyWork. She’d found Kelly’s coffee machine concealed in one of the lower cupboards.

“Deal. But don’t be long.” He sauntered through to the en suite bathroom while she scurried out to the kitchen. She made use of the guest toilet while the coffee brewed, and soon returned with two white mugs wafting deep dark coffee aromas.
 

“In there or out here?”

“In here.”

She carried the mugs into the bathroom and set them down on the vanity. Nick stood under the shower jets, soaping up. “You’re managing perfectly well without me,” she said, stopping a moment to admire the view through the glass shower wall.

A long arm shot out and grabbed her wrist. “Need my back scrubbed. Might need my front scrubbed, too.”
 

Sammie quickly shucked her robe. He drew her in under the shower and pulled her close. Half blinded by the pelting water, she shut her eyes and felt his lips glide down the side of her face to the corner of her mouth. His slippery hands cupped her breasts, squeezing gently, massaging her nipples until they beaded into tight peaks. At last he kissed her, long and deep, hungry and hot.
 

“Give me the soap then,” she agreed when he released her. Every sense had come alive. Her skin felt super-aware. Nick’s own scent swirled through the hot damp air. The soap added another layer of fragrance. The rush of the water, his murmured suggestions of ‘touch me, touch me’ sank into her ears. She moved a little aside to get her face out of the water. Through spiky lashes she watched as Nick turned his back to her and leaned against the shower wall, feet braced apart. How could she resist him? Simply not possible.

Switching off the water she ran the soap across his shoulders, kneading his slippery skin with her other hand, making him grunt with pleasure. Slowly down his spine, pushing into the lines of defined muscle either side. Over his cute butt, now clenched tight. Down and around his thighs and calves, hard and hairy and male.

“Turn around, Nick.”

And front-on he looked even better. She soaped over his chest, pushing her hands up to his neck, out over his shoulders, down through the dark hair that covered his pecs. And then down his long streamlined torso to his ever-hopeful cock and heavy balls.

She watched his eyelids droop closed, and she set the soap aside. Now both her hands kneaded and massaged together, gentler where they needed to be. He groaned as she teased him, cock jerking in her hands as she stroked up and down his length.

“I want that inside you,” he growled, opening his eyes and fixing them on hers.

“There’s no time, Nick. You won’t even get your coffee. You’ll miss your plane.”

“I can get another flight.”

“No—you have appointments to keep.”

“I’ve got one hell of a hard-on and need to come.”

She bit her lip at his forthright description, and her internal muscles clenched in delicious quivers just thinking about it. She handed him the soap. “Lather me up and then we’ll rinse off together.”

“We could do it right here.”

“Not a hope. We’re too slippery. You haven’t got a condom. And there’s still no time.”

“We’ll see about that,” he growled, making a rapid assault on her, soaping and caressing her all over as she slithered against him, laughing and squealing.

He turned the water back on, lifted the shower head from its holder and rinsed her off, then aimed it at his chest. Sammie escaped, grabbed a towel, and did her best to blot herself dry. Nick burst out of the bathroom seconds later, making only the most cursory effort with his towel before he sheathed himself.

She scrambled up onto the bed, giggling as she tried to escape. In a flash, he’d caught her around the waist and pulled her back against him. She felt his cock slide between her thighs, rubbing in her slippery juices. God, she was so turned on! He pulled away, adjusted his angle, and drove in, deep and sure.
 

Sammie curved over and laid her forehead on the bed, absorbing the sensation of the different position. Then his hand dipped low and found her clit.

“Come for me first,” he whispered, rubbing as he pumped slowly and sweetly. “I want to feel your muscles grabbing me.”

She trembled all over as her nerve endings responded to his insistent rhythm. “I can’t...do it to order,” she protested.

“Yes you can. Just a quickie. Come for me now.”

He thrust faster, fondling with slick fingers. Sammie squeezed her eyes closed. The warm tide of orgasm lapped closer. Seconds later, she gulped a huge breath as everything tightened and tightened, and finally released in deep surging spasms. Nick climaxed a moment behind her, breath hissing through his teeth, and then escaping in a long low groan of satisfaction.
 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

So that was why he’d been running late. And why she had the occasional twinge in her very well-used body, if she was honest.

It was also why she had to extricate herself from this job as soon as possible. She needed to get right away from Nick or he’d sabotage all her plans. She’d waited so long to be free, and now she floundered in quicksand. If he suggested she stayed, she knew she’d be far too willing, and all her long-held hopes and dreams would grind to a juddering halt.

Not that he would of course. Not Mr Sexy-as-hell, I’ll-have-you-when-I-want-you Nick Sharpe.

She sighed as she stowed her bag in her locker. Her vulnerable heart would shred into ribbons when she left him. And the longer she stayed the worse the ripping and bleeding was going to be.

But you have to go, Sammie. He’s using you as a bit of fun for old times’ sake. Or to take his mind off this rotten adoption business. Snap out of it.

The morning dragged, even though there was plenty to do. She’d thought not having Nick around to summon her to his office, or walk up behind her and rub her shoulders, or whisk her off to lunch, would make concentrating much easier.
 

She was wrong. She kept expecting to see him, wanting to see him, hoping ridiculously that he’d get an earlier flight home.

No Sammie—you need to get away from him. And you need a diversion to stop you thinking like this.

Evan the builder phoned once, with a long rambling query about the granite counter-tops in the kitchen and a rather pointed enquiry about when she’d next be on site. Sammie referred him to the kitchen designer as soon as she could, gaining the definite impression he’d been wasting her time and didn’t need to speak to anyone at all. The kitchen installation would be weeks off yet.

She called Anita. “Hi, how’s your cold now?”

“Much better, darling. It was nasty, but at least it was fast.”

“So would you like to bring Ray and the boys to my apartment for dinner? Just something casual?”

“As long as it’s pizza they’ll eat anything!”

“I was thinking Thai...”

“Lovely for us grown-ups, but Josh and Charlie would turn their naughty noses up at it.”

“No probs. I can get pizza too.”

“When were you thinking?”

“Whenever suits.”

“Not tomorrow. Ray’s away in Christchurch until quite late.”
 

Sammie could picture Anita running a beautifully manicured finger over the French-cookery calendar on the kitchen wall.
 

“Not Saturday—we’re having dinner with some friends at The Dolphin. Not Monday...there’s a parents’ night at Charlie’s school...”

“Tonight?” Sammie broke in, not really expecting they’d be free.

“Tonight? Yes, that’s fine. School tomorrow, so we mustn’t be too late.”

“No—an early night would do me good too.”

After two very late ones.
 

“Six o’clock? We’ll get the pizza if you like.”

“This is supposed to be my treat for you,” Sammie protested. “To thank you for having me to stay.”

“You can thank us with the Thai. There’ll be no ructions about wrong toppings if the boys choose the pizza. And we’ll bring some wine to celebrate your new job, too.”

Sammie closed her eyes. “This is going to be more your treat than mine at this rate. And it’s only a temporary job. In fact it might be more temporary than I thought.”

“Sammie—is something wrong?”

She smiled at the motherly note in Anita’s voice. How long since she’d heard concern from any mother figure? Her Mom had died almost twelve years ago, closely followed by a broken-hearted Gran. Silvia, her grandmother’s housekeeper/companion, had moved out of her life then too. After that, it had been only Grandpa and her—and she’d been the mother for the last few years of that relationship.

She puffed out an exasperated sigh. “No, not exactly wrong. A bit uncomfortable perhaps. Turns out I knew the boss years ago.”

“Did you have an affair?” Anita asked, keen to gossip.

“Anita! I was
thirteen.
No, of course not.”

“Not that yummy dark haired boy leaning all over you?”

“I’m sure he wasn’t. I warned him not to.”

“He was. He moved away when Heidi and I came back from my tour, but I saw him through the glass.”

“He’s not exactly a boy any longer.”
 

“So it’s him?”

Now she wished she’d never mentioned it. “It’s him, and I’d rather it wasn’t. So I think I’ll get the temp agency to find someone else and that’ll take care of things very neatly.”