Restoring Hope (16 page)

Nic groaned in satisfaction when she gave into their lust. He couldn’t get close enough, wanted to sink himself into her, hold her to him, and keep her from leaving. He deepened the kiss, moaning as he reached the warm recesses, tasting her, claiming her, making her moan in return. His hands moved from her head to her T-shirt and with no regrets, he tore his mouth from hers, grabbed the hem and ripped it up and over her head.

She stood in the rain, water glistening against her pale skin, the swell of her breasts spilling over her tan lace bra and he’d never seen anything so beautiful. She was panting; her eyes filled with hunger as he raised his hand, pulled down her bra and cupped her breast, the weight of it hardening his cock even more. “So fuckin beautiful,” he whispered.

As he rubbed his thumb across her pebbled nipple, her head fell back, a soft whimper spilling from her lips. Leaning down, he drew her nipple into his mouth and bit down.

“Nic,” Hope gasped her legs about to buckle from the feel of his mouth. Sucking her nipple deep, he then released it and then flicked his tongue across it once more. He returned to her mouth, biting, sucking—claiming her lips. Then from the depths of his throat, he growled as his need for her body escalated to a savage level.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he groaned when Hope’s hand grabbed his cock through his sleep pants, rubbing down the length of it as it swelled to the point of pain. Rubbing himself against her hand, he moved his own to the shorts she wore, flicked the button open and with both hands pushed them down while never leaving her lips. He removed her hand, pulled his pants from his hips and then lifted her up, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He looked between them as he slid her down on his aching cock, hissing in pleasure as her heat surrounded him, sucked him in, made him burn.

“
Bon Dieu, ma douce amour,”
Nic gritted out, breathing deep to keep from exploding. She was tight, almost too tight for his large size. Her velvet, hot skin caressed him, drew him deep into her, and he surged forward, pulled back and then slammed her back down again, both moaning when he seated himself all the way in.

Too much, it was too much, too many feelings spiraling in Hope at the same time, and she couldn’t hold back. She held onto Nic’s neck as he pounded her, built her to the coming crescendo at a speed she’d never known. “Oh, God,” she cried out, feeling her climax building to a pinpoint clarity.

“Jesus, I can’t get enough of you,” Nic growled and then watched as he pulled her up his length and then sunk her deep again. He brought a hand to her apex, found her throbbing clit, rolled it and then watched the beauty that was Hope exploded on him, milking him with her climax. “Jesus, you’re fuckin beautiful when you come,” Nic whispered as her eyes slid closed, her mouth half open in ecstasy. The desire on her face, the tightening of her core all sent him over the edge, and he spilled his seed deep inside her, grunting his pleasure as he fully claimed her body.

His body jerked as he slowed his strokes, and Nic moved to her neck nipping and biting as he found her ear. Then he let her know, in no uncertain terms, “You’re mine now, you don’t fuckin’ run from me again.”

“Nic—”

“I protect what’s mine, whoever is after you, they won’t touch you,” Nic told her still buried inside her sweet warmth.

He didn’t wait for an answer, he wouldn’t accept anything less than she was his, so as far as he was concerned the subject was closed. He lifted her off, put her on her feet, pulled his own pants up and then assisted Hope as she pulled on her own. When she was done, Nic picked her up, carried her up his stairs and into his home, and then walked down the hall to his bed, and laid her on it.

Crawling onto the bed, and then pulling her into his arms, Hope laid her head on Nic’s chest while she panicked.

“You ok?” Nic asked.

“No,” Hope answered honestly.

“I lost my head and didn’t think about birth control.”

“I’m covered if that’s what you’re worried about.” Nic sighed and changed the subject, feeling her pull away from him.

“Talk to me, tell me why you felt you had to leave,” he asked, running his hand through her hair.

“I was scared.”

“What about?”

“My past, my future, not wanting to hurt any of you.”

“Then let me help you.”

“It’s not that simple,” Hope explained, but the truth was she didn’t want him to know, knew if he knew the truth he would turn her away and now that she’d slept with him, opened herself up to him she didn’t think she could bear to walk away.

“You need to trust me, Hope.”

“I do, I’m trying to protect you.”

“Sugar, that’s my job now. You living your life alone ends now. I’ve lived the past year with what happens when people keep secrets and don’t talk. You need to trust me to take care of you. I promise nothin’ will happen to you, but
you
need to promise to be honest with me.” Hope wasn’t sure she could keep that promise. Not sure she could ever tell him the truth.

“Hope?”

“I’ll tell you just not tonight, okay?” Nic sighed, and squeezed her tighter against him, trying to give her the security she obviously needed.

Rubbing her head on his chest, trying to avoid his questions, she realized they were wet from the rain; she still had her shoes on, and his bed was now wet. “Nic, I think we messed up your bed.”

Knowing when to push and when to hold back, Nic knew she was changing the subject for now, so he rolled Hope to her back, kissed her lips and then wiggled his eyebrows, chuckling “Oh, angel, it’s gonna get worse.”

Chapter Twelve

Hope landed on her back; cold fear replaced the pain she felt. He would kill her this time she knew it. Trying to get her feet under her, she scooted backward, her eyes on the knife on the kitchen counter. She’d been cutting vegetables for a salad and made the mistake of saying he was late when he walked through the door. She should have learned by now not to antagonize him, but what was left of the woman she once was held on tight, and every now and then, she’d bite back. “You don’t tell me when to be home,” he roared then pulled the tie from his collar. He stood over her as she tried to crawl away, tried to escape his fucked up mind. Snatching her hair, stopping her as she reached for the knife, fingers slipping on the granite countertop, he wrapped his tie around her neck and twisted….

Gasping for air, her hand at her throat, Hope sat up, looking around the bedroom. She was alone in Nic’s bed, the sun shining through the blinds. Her dream, an old friend; one she pulled around her like a coat of armor, so she’d never forget that day. She’d left within a few days of the night and had been looking over her shoulder ever since.

Shaking off the dream, she looked around. The room was masculine, brown walls, old weathered furniture that looked like it came from a rummage sale, but you could tell they were expensive pieces, historic pieces of a time long past. There were black sheets and comforter on the bed, and black and white photos on the wall of Nic’s kids. Looking at the pictures, her gaze caught on one of Chelsea smiling. Wanting a closer look at his daughter, she rolled and found a white iris on his pillow with a note under it. Smiling at the delicate flower that filled Nic’s garden, she loved their purity, how white they were. When she’d first moved in, and they had their coffee in the garden, Nic had told her they were the symbol of France, of the fleur de lis, they meant wisdom, hope and the promise of love. Last night when he’d made love to her in the garden, they’d surrounded them with their scent, mixing with the rain and heat; it was a powerful memory of fresh flowers, sex and passion.

Lifting the flower to her nose, she breathed in its scent as she picked up the note from his pillow.

“Gone for coffee and beignets, Nic
.”

Smiling, she crawled out of bed and threw on a discarded T-shirt. Moving to the pictures of Nicky and Chelsea, she gazed at each one, the happy smiles on their faces, Chelsea at different ages, beautiful in all of them. Blonde hair, light, blue eyes like Kat’s, Nic was right—she was perfect. Hope’s chest tightened thinking how hard it must have been for all of them to lose her. For the pain they go through daily still, trying to cope with the loss as they go about their lives. Running a finger down the contour of Chelsea’s face she was startled when warm, hard arms surrounded her.

“Like I said, she was perfect,” Nic whispered in her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder as they both stared at the photo of his daughter’s angelic face.

“She was beautiful, Nic, is beautiful. I wish I knew what to say to make it easier for you.”

“Sugar, there isn’t anything you can say that will help, it just takes time.”

Turning in his arms, Hope looked at Nic and saw he wasn’t in pain, just resolved to the fact that his road to healing would take him on a winding one. Nic leaned in, kissed her gently and then smiled against her lips. Moving backward, still holding Hope in his arms, when his legs hit the bed he fell back taking her with him.

Laughing as she fell, when she collided with his chest she smiled, still amazed that last night she’d been on her way out of town, prepared never to return, and with one kiss, her resolve to leave washed away in the rain.

“Did you bring me beignets?” she asked raising her eyebrows, this was serious business—those sugarcoated pastries had become an addiction.

“Sugar, I’ve seen the way you look when you eat them. I wouldn’t deny you or me the satisfaction.”

“And just how do I look?”

Lifting his head, running his nose against her neck, he nipped her ear and then whispered, “Like you’re gonna come from the sheer taste of them.”

“That,” she gasped, enjoying his tongue as it flicked out, teasing her, “Would be accurate.”

Nic rolled Hope to her back and worked his way down her neck and back. He whispered, “Close your eyes,” so she did, waiting to see what happened next. Moments later, the smell of pastry and powdered sugar engulfed her, and she opened her mouth when the sweet treat hit her lips. Moaning as she bit down, she opened her eyes and watched Nic as he watched her. His attention was on her reaction, so she moaned again giving him more of a show.

“Just so you know,” Nic explained, getting hard just watching her. “I have to be at work in forty-five minutes, so I’m hauling your ass to the shower. You give me a show like that I’m not waiting to pay you back.”

Hope smiled, licked her lips, and he watched that too, growing harder. Then she leaned up and said, “I’ll do your back if you do mine.”

One minute she was on her back, the next she was in the air thrown over his shoulder. Hope laughed; Nic smacked her sweet ass, and for the next thirty minutes, Nic gave Hope another reason to forget about ever leaving.

“What?” Hope asked Rose. The old woman was standing there staring at her.

“You tell me what,” Rose demanded.

“Tell you what?”

“Dat’ what I’m sayin,’ what?”

“What’s going on?” Abby asked Rose when she entered the kitchen and found Rose standing over Hope.

“Dat’ what I want to know,” Rose replied.

“What?” Hope asked again, still confused by the whole conversation.

“You standin’ dere’ wit’ your head in da’ clouds.”

“She does look kinda of dreamy,” Abby joined in and Hope just stared at the women.

“She got a look dat’ say—” Rose stopped mid-sentence and then smiled the smile of a woman who knew when a woman had been thoroughly loved by a man. And not just any man, a man who knew how to make a woman feel good, a man who knew his way around the body, and Rose began nodding and mumbling “Mm hmm, he done good. Fill you up wit’ hope he do, make you dream.”