The Wicked Bad (Crimson Romance) (5 page)

Here we go again.

• • •

Across town, Veronica laid in bed, wide awake in her darkened room reliving what happened the last few hours. They’d rolled around on the beach and made out like a couple of horny teenagers. Was that it? They were trying to relive and recreate an obvious secret attraction — from high school? Veronica reached for her iPod Touch and placed the buds in her ears and selected her rock music folder. She turned it down low, Creed’s “Overcome” growled in her ears. Completely stunned and numb pretty much described how she felt.

Nick Crocetti was nothing like she imagined. He was a man she could fall in love with, but Veronica wouldn’t make that blunder again, mistaking lust and a physical spark beyond all reason for any kind of long lasting emotion or relationship. The stunning fact remained she climaxed by rubbing against him. Never had she done that before.

Veronica felt her cheeks flush. She knew she wasn’t a Frigidaire babe. The few times she had sex she was an active and enthusiastic participant. William Titus showed her a few things and she wanted to explore it with Nick, in every way and in every position. If anyone could give her multiple orgasms, it would be Nick.

She rolled over and looked at her pewter lighthouse clock on the bedside table. The time read two in the morning. She would give him a few days, then what? Call him? Stalk him? Send him sexy emails or texts? More cinnamon buns?

A lone tear escaped her eye. William Titus had hurt her. Veronica thought she was in love, deeply and completely. After the drunken sex fog lifted, it had become apparent he didn’t feel the same. Her heart still ached at being rejected that way. William Titus couldn’t run away fast or far enough. She cried on and off for days.

Never again.
All she wanted from Nick Crocetti was that glorious body of his, nothing more, and damn it, she was going to make sure she got it. The drought ended now.

Veronica’s eyes closed briefly, her thoughts raced. Was Nick embarrassed because he shot off too soon, in his jeans no less? No condoms? She didn’t buy that for a minute, him?

By his own admission he had plenty of women. Must ask Julie what she’d heard about Nick prowling around since he returned to Rockland. And jail. He became upset talking about it, again, so much she didn’t know. What about his parents? All he mentioned was an uncle and not with any warmth.

In between songs she heard her phone ring. She scrambled out of bed almost getting caught up in the tangle of sheets.

“Hello?”

“Veronica Barnes? This is Doctor Callum Murphy at Rockland General. Your brother asked me to call you. He’s all right, but he was wounded tonight. Tyler took a bullet to the shoulder and he wants you to come down right away.”

Veronica’s hands began to shake, Tyler shot — oh, dear god.

• • •

It was ten o’clock Sunday morning and Veronica hadn’t slept. She stayed with Tyler as he would be held overnight for observation. She had to return home and catch a nap before going back for the evening visiting hours.

Only a flesh wound,
Tyler assured her. He wouldn’t tell her how he came to be shot. Stupid police business. Tyler made her promise not to call their mother in Florida, she would rush back and there was no need as he would be released Monday. Veronica was inclined to agree, their mother didn’t need this right now. She made a mental note to exclude this incident from their next weekly phone conversation.

Veronica pulled in behind the bakery and parked her five year old Mustang. She walked around the corner and gasped. Leaning against the front brick facade with one leg up against the wall with his arms folded, stood Nick.

She stopped dead in her tracks. She felt strange and flustered. He must have heard about a cop being shot and found out it was her brother, Tyler.

“How’s your brother, Ronnie?”

Her lower lip began to quiver. Nick pulled her into his close embrace. There was nothing sexual about his touch. He stroked her hair as she sniffled noisily.

“I was so scared, Nick.”

“I know, baby,” he whispered.

“You came over here to see if I was okay?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled from her head lying against his chest.

“Well, to tell the truth, I came over for more cinnamon buns.”

He cupped her face and gazed at her. His eyes twinkled teasingly, but Veronica also glimpsed a warmth she’d had not seen before. He studied her as if he were committing every freckle to memory. He leaned down and kissed her nose. Her glasses slid down and hit his lips. He smiled and gently pushed them back.

“Really? Cinnamon buns, you — you enjoyed them?”

“Almost as much as I enjoyed you. They almost tasted as sweet,” he whispered.

Veronica gazed up at him. He smiled the most devastating, sexy, wicked smile she’d ever seen.
No, don’t. Don’t fall for him. Don’t you dare do it. I just know he’ll hurt me.

He kissed her, not the searing, flames-on-high kiss of last night. This was the most gentle, caring kiss she’d ever received. Affection, warmth, and kindness. Tenderness.

“Do you want to come in?”

Nick leaned his forehead against hers. “You look exhausted. You need sleep more than anything. I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

“Really, Nick? You’ll call? You’re not just saying that?”

Oh shit, I sound needy and desperate, the last thing I want to do. Chase him away why don’t you!

He backed away, his thumb still caressing her cheek.

“I’ll call. Have half-dozen cinnamon buns set aside for me.”

He strode to his Indian and climbed on. Nick turned the ignition, hit the kick start, and roared off down Waterloo Street.

She stuck the key in the door and opened it, still in a trance from his kiss and embrace. That’s what she wanted, for someone to give a damn. Forever. She had this sick feeling it would never happen to her. Nick was only interested in her cinnamon buns. Well, it’s a start, she chuckled.

Veronica tossed her small purse on the counter. First, sleep. Then call Julie once she was more lucid. Julie would have to cover her tomorrow while she saw Tyler settled. She was going to insist he stay with her at the bakery for a couple of days. Veronica could hear him balk now. Next on her to-do list — baking. Cookies, bread, rolls.

Locking the door, she sauntered off to the back rooms. Her living area wasn’t bad. There was a good size living room and bedroom. A tiny kitchenette, but with the full bakery kitchen to use, she didn’t need anything larger. The unpacked boxes sat in the corner, not that she brought a lot with her. Veronica sold everything in California except a few books, DVD’s, and clothes. Didn’t even have a set of dishes yet, just borrowed odds and ends from Tyler.

The bathroom was cramped with old fixtures, but kept in good repair. Thankfully, the previous owner had air conditioning installed front and back. The place stayed cool even when all the ovens were going full tilt. Entering the bedroom, she peeled off her clothes and crawled into bed. Exhaustion caused her body to shake, or was it Nick’s tender kisses and rapt, gentle attention? She was touched by his concern. Nick Crocetti — cared.

• • •

Veronica had called it. Tyler did nothing but complain all the way to the bakery when she picked him up Monday morning from the hospital. Turning left on City Road heading toward Waterloo Street, she glanced at her brother sitting in the passenger seat.

“You’re staying with me at least two nights, Tyler, get used to it.”

“You have an ancient twenty-inch TV. No cable, no dish,” he grumbled.

“I haven’t had time to get anything installed since I opened,” she snapped. “There, something for you to do. See about getting me the best deal possible, cable, satellite, doesn’t matter. That should keep you occupied. Besides, I have a DVD player. Hook that up and watch movies, I have a box of them.”

“Probably chick flicks,” he sulked.

She glanced at him again. “Come on Ty, you know what movies I like. I have the
Guns of Navarone,
” she teased. “And the special edition set of
The Omen
, and
The Boys from Brazil
. You can have a Gregory Peck film festival and I’ll supply the popcorn. I’ll make your favorite cookies to boot.”

Tyler smiled. “If only I could find a woman like you, sis, I’d marry her in a heartbeat.”

Veronica laughed. She really missed being with Tyler all these years, the closeness and the teasing. They always got along even when they were kids. By the time they had reached their teens, they were the best of friends, even hung out together in high school. She glanced over at her drop-dead, handsome brother. Why hadn’t he found someone yet, was he even trying? Unlucky in love — the both of them. That fact was surprising, since their parents fell in love in their early twenties and married. Their mother and father were deliriously happy up until her father died. She and Tyler had great role models for happiness, love, and marriage, then why at thirty-one and twenty-nine were they still unattached?

She thought again of Nick stopping by to check on her. What man did that after only one date? Veronica couldn’t stop thinking about the heavy make-out session on the beach. Her lips were still raw and swollen from his passionate, wild kisses. Her face and breasts stung gloriously from his closely-cropped goatee rubbing against her skin. She wanted to feel that silky, soft facial hair rub against the inside of her thighs and that magical, probing tongue of his firmly planted in the deepest and wettest part of her. Veronica had to bite back a moan from escaping her lips from the image. What would Tyler think of her and Nick Crocetti? She was hesitant to bring his name up and find something out about Nick she really didn’t want to know. She didn’t want her brother trying to dissuade her.

What did she want with Nick? She wanted sex. No two ways about it, she ached, and damn it, she should’ve dropped to her knees in the sand and begged.

Flipping her blinker on to turn onto Waterloo Street, she made a promise to herself. Next time she was alone with Nick Crocetti she would jump his fine, big bones.

Veronica didn’t have to wait long. After getting Tyler settled in and the DVD player hooked up, she prepared the smelly nacho chips he liked. It took all afternoon for her to make the arrangements, but Tyler sat happily surrounded by fresh baked peanut butter cookies and a six-pack of Miller MGD. When she heard the opening rousing score of
The Guns of Navarone
, Veronica sauntered out front to do a quick inventory. Thanks to a quick nap in between baking the cookies and making the nachos that afternoon, she wasn’t as tired as she had been earlier. She looked at the wall clock. Close to nine o’clock. Enough time to watch a movie with Ty, and then catch a little more sleep before she had to do the baking.

Veronica bent over to grab her clipboard when she glanced outside. What she saw made her drop it on the floor with a clatter.

Under the streetlight with his long muscular legs spread apart and his hands at his side clenched into fists, stood Nick Crocetti. Getting past the initial shock of seeing him, what shocked her further was the look on his face.

Pure, feral, animal lust. Want. Desire.

Veronica’s hand clasped her throat. The usually cool, detached Nick showed every emotion he no doubt felt. He wore leather pants again, but this time they were brown and he wore a gold leather jacket with no shirt on underneath. She caught a tempting glimpse of perfectly formed pecs and knotted, muscled, flat abdomen all dusted with the same shade of golden-brown hair on his head.

Nick strode toward the glass door. There was no mistaking his purpose in being there. The reason clearly showed on his face and the huge bulge he didn’t hide also decided proof. One hand unclenched and he ran it down the front of his pants past his cock as if to bring her attention to it, as if she could miss that. He looked as if he was about to break the glass to get to her, like that movie with William Hurt,
Body Heat
. Only she wasn’t some sultry Kathleen Turner in a low cut blouse and tight skirt. She wore a pair of baggy sweatpants and an equally baggy Baltimore Orioles T-shirt. His gaze was hot and hungry; he looked as if he wanted to devour her.

His hand continued to stroke the front of his pants and his eyes closed. Her mouth lost all moisture as it traveled further south. Nick didn’t seem to care if anyone saw him. His golden-brown eyes snapped open and he gave her the most raw, sexy gaze she’d ever seen. He began to look around the front entrance. Veronica grabbed the key under her counter before Nick did pick up a planter and sent it careening through the glass door or window. Try explaining that to the State Farm guy.
Yeah, a man did it to get at me so he could ravish my body.
Somehow, Veronica guessed that wouldn’t be covered in her insurance policy.

Nick stepped through the door and reached for her face with both hands, kissing her deeply before she even had a chance to speak. She melted against him. He took her hand and placed it over his hard-as-a-rock dick. Veronica moaned, she couldn’t help herself. He had a brick down his pants, surely.

“I’ve been in this condition since Saturday night,” he rasped.

His hand lay atop hers, pressing and urging her to grab as much of him as she could. She did. Nick groaned right from his toes.

“Is your brother here?”

Damn, how could she have hot, wild, feral sex if her brother was in the next room?

“We — we can go to your place.”

“I won’t make it,” he gasped. “Is there somewhere we can go? I want you, Ronnie.”

Oh yeah. Now.
Her mind raced. Where? Obviously not in front of the store windows like they were in the red light district of Amsterdam. She grabbed his hand.

“Out back,” She looked up at him. “Did you bring … .”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah.”

Veronica pulled him out through the front door, locked it behind her, and ran around the back of the building. She could hear Nick’s boots right behind her. Was she insane? Yes, insane with lust. She led him to a secluded alcove hidden from the alley and parking lot. No one would see them. Nick arched an eyebrow.