Wild at Heart (Walk on the Wild Side #1) (9 page)

Amber looked at Nick skeptically. In the past, she’d have flopped down in the armchair by now and put her feet up, probably have appropriated his coffee mug and complained like usual about how he never used enough sugar. Instead, she was hovering by the door as if she might need to make a hasty escape. “Vin La Russa is a cheating asshole, and Jake Hultensaalt is a total sweetheart. I can’t imagine one reminds her of the other.”

Nick shrugged. “That close up and naked, one man’s pretty much the same as another.”

“Really?” A wash of pink color crossed Amber’s face. “Same with one woman and another? When you get up close and naked? I think I’m starting to understand how your mind really works.” She picked up a little carved wooden eagle that was sitting on the desk to her left and fiddled with it nervously, turning it upside down and spinning it on its head. “I prefer to think of each person as unique.”

He was tempted to defend himself, but it was better to just let it go—let her get it off her chest. At least she was speaking to him. They’d work their way through this somehow, and once it didn’t feel so raw, maybe she’d actually like him again. Or tolerate him. Whatever.

As long as he didn’t have to deal with life without her.

Amber leaned her hip against the desk now, flipping the eagle over, round and round, her mouth tight.

And then without any warning at all, her fierce façade just cracked wide open.

Her eyes welled with tears, and her angry expression crumpled, and the eagle thudded on the floor. “Oh, shit,” she said, and buried her face in her hands. “Two days ago, everything was fine, perfectly fine, and now it’s all going to hell at once. I’m not getting married, and my movie’s ruined, so my career is shot, and I slept with my best friend and now he’s acting like I’m radioactive....”

Oh, Jesus. This was not going to be okay.

Before he had a chance to think, he’d moved to her, put his arms around her. And he seemed to be kissing her forehead and her temples and the top of her hair. “Amber, hey,” he was murmuring. “It’s okay, kiddo. It’s fine. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

He thought she might push him away or maybe punch him, but she didn’t. She leaned in hard instead, dug her fingers into the material of his t-shirt, pressed her face into his shoulder, and burst out sobbing.

And everything inside his chest dissolved, like a sandcastle hit by a wave.

“Shh, shh, Amber,” he said against her ear. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not! I ruined it. Completely fucked it all up. And I don’t even understand how.”

Another kiss against her temple. “No you didn’t ruin anything. Shh. Stop. This isn’t like you.” His hands stroked her back, his thumbs massaging the bunched-up muscles. “C’mon, we both know that you’re basically the perfect human being. You do everything right, sweetheart.”

And he would do anything, anything, to make her feel like her usual happy self again.

“I don’t know what was up with Ruby today,” he said. “But it wasn’t your fault. All this is a tiny bump in the road. You’ll pick yourself up and just get stronger. Because that’s what you
do
.”

She was still crying in this horrible, shuddering way that made his stomach turn over. And he couldn’t stand it. Amber was fearless, confident. At least she always had been those things, before he crossed the line with her in the meadow yesterday.

“Come on, Amber,” he begged. “Please, come on. Look at me.”

She shook her head no, her hair brushing back and forth across his neck. But she put her arms around him, her hands gripping his ribcage now.

“Please, baby. Look up.” He kissed her forehead. Maybe a little humor would work. “At least take some Kleenex. You’re getting snot all over my shirt.”

“I am not!” she protested, and pulled back to glare at him indignantly, and it was good to see the spark back in her eyes. “I’ve never gotten snot on anybody in my life! And I’ve been very careful not to get any leakage on you whatsoever.” She took the tissue he’d pulled out of the box on the desk and wiped her nose, still sniffling. Then frowned and scrubbed briefly at his shirt with her fingers. “Except a couple spots from the tears. That was inevitable.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “Either way.” His arms still seemed to be around her.

She didn’t seem to be pulling away.

“Listen to me, okay?” he said, gazing down into her eyes, willing her to keep looking straight at him. “You are amazing. You are smart and capable and creative. And I could never in a million years think you’re—God, what did you say—
radioactive
?”

“Radioactive,” she said, miserably.

“That’s just—that’s crazy.” His heart felt like a big hard fist jammed in his throat. “For pity’s sake, Amber, you’re—you are the most important person in the world to me.”

He hadn’t really quite planned on saying that, but there it was.

She let out another sudden sob. “Really?”

He didn’t see the point in trying to deny it. “Absolutely.” His hands rubbed soothingly up and down her spine, one of them going to the nape of her neck to ease away the tension there. “I’m the idiot, okay? I’m the fucked-up one.”

“You are not—”

“Yes, I am. I really am. Ask anybody. You’re the only person I’ve ever been...
not
fucked up with.” He let go with one of his hands so he could tap his chest with his fist, just above where his heart was. “I’ve got something broken in here. And I should never have let things go where they went yesterday, okay? That was so stupid of me. Because I can’t—I can’t risk...
you
.”

The tears brimmed again. “Oh, God, Nick! Please, you can never, never hate me, okay?” Her hands gripped his shoulder blades like she’d fall off a mountainside if she let go. “Or stop talking to me. No matter who you’re sleeping with. Please? Promise? Because you’re the most important person in the world to me, too.”

Her words sent a wash of emotion through him. She was looking up at him steadily now, the gold of her hair framing her face with a halo, her bright blue eyes so open and vulnerable. She was the one person on this planet that made him feel like he was a halfway decent human being.

She was so, so beautiful. So lovely. So perfect.

And he had to be the biggest idiot in the history of the universe, because the next thing he knew he was kissing her.

Kissing her hard.

His arms pulled her against him, and his mouth slanted over hers. Someplace deep in his mind, his conscience was shrieking at him, trying to drag him back and away, but he shut it up with a hard mental shove.

He just needed to feel Amber against him right now, needed to get closer to her.

And Amber wasn’t being any more sensible than he was, because she molded herself against him, her belly to his, her hands curving around the backs of his shoulders now, clinging, and she opened her lips to the pressure of his tongue.

Goddamn, at least one of them should have been smart enough to push away and say,
This can only lead to disaster. This is exactly how we went off the rails in the first place.

But Amber wasn’t saying anything, and all he wanted to say was,
I never touched Ruby, never wanted to touch her. It was you I wanted, only you, only you.
Though at least he managed to keep those words inside.

Somehow, he maneuvered her around so they were moving towards the bed—which thankfully was a substantial oak one, not a little cot, because he didn’t think he could be careful with the wild energy suddenly surging through him.

Almost painfully hard already, he pushed her down beneath him, and she shifted her weight to cradle his body, her arms slipping up to wind around his neck. Her legs wriggled under him as she kicked off her shoes. She clearly meant for this to go forward—thank God.

And it was sweet, so sweet, to feel her and taste her and sense her desire for him, too.

Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he was frantic to feel it loose in his hands, so he worked his fingers under the elastic and slid it free, combing out the gorgeous golden curls with his fingers, spreading them across his pillow, then kissing her neck so he could feel the silken waves brush against his face. Her throat smelled delicious, clean and warm, with just that hint of wildflower and coconut, and she sighed as his mouth moved against her.

His hands stroked over her throat and then skimmed the sweet curves of her shoulders and breasts and waist, reaching for the hem of her shirt, his fingers desperate to touch the silk of her breasts again. She helped him, arching her back so he could slip her shirt up and over her head, her sighs changing to little gasps.

He reared up on his knees for a moment so he could haul off his own shirt and kick off his shoes.

And he looked at her body sprawled out beneath him, and damn. They weren’t lying down in wildflowers this time, but she looked just as beautiful and radiant on a navy blue comforter. Garden of Eden or a prison cell, it wouldn’t make any difference—she would always look like heaven to him.

Today she wore a black bra instead of the pink one, and somehow that little novelty thrilled him, sent a pulse of pleasure through his gut and made his balls tighten with an electric jolt. He didn’t think he could ever get tired of stripping her, finding what she had on beneath her outer clothes, exploring her skin.

He was eager to explore more right this instant.

His gaze roved over her, over her beautiful taut belly and her long, denim-clad legs. Everywhere except directly at her eyes. Those he didn’t dare look at full on, afraid he’d break the spell that was letting all this happen.

He reached for the front closure of her bra and undid it, peeled it aside to reveal the full, glowing curves of her breasts and the delicious pink of her nipples, which already stood stiff beneath his gaze.

“Damn it,” he swore. If anything, he felt even more desperate this time than he had in the meadow, the blood thundering through his skull, his belly, his cock. He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, drawing it tight against his lips while his palm stroked her other breast. She pushed her thigh between his legs, pressing gently against his erection, and her fingers worked their way under the back waistband of his jeans. The feel of her warm hands stroking the top curve of his ass sent heat pulsing through every inch of him.

He wanted her to touch him, wanted her hands to slide around to the front and stroke his balls, his cock, but he wanted to take his time today. Pulling back, he kissed down the soft length of her belly, flicked open the button of her jeans, eased the waistband down over her hips, hooking his thumbs in her panties as well so he could bare her completely, inch by inch.

She writhed beneath him, and the sweet soft musk of her body began to scent the air. She scooted downward toward him before he could get her jeans all the way off, not letting him have all the control today. Her hands slid around to the front of his jeans now, over his hipbones, sending shivers through his nerve endings, and making quick work of the buttons of his fly. She pushed the fabric apart and then,
oh dear God
, she slipped her hands inside his boxers and down between his thighs.

He froze where he was, his cock jutting out at her eagerly, pulsing with inner heat, as her wrists brushed the sensitive underside and she gently gripped his balls.

He moaned, knowing she had him now. He was entirely vulnerable. She could hurt him if she wanted—and he probably deserved that, after what he’d put her through. If she wanted to squeeze hard now and drop him to the floor, he couldn’t blame her.

But she didn’t squeeze. She stroked gently, sending ripples of anticipation through him, then slid one hand up to his shaft, gripping as much of its girth as she could hold and sliding up and down, up and down, while the fingers of her other hand pressed and stroked upward behind his balls, giving him a deep pleasure that made him groan again, louder. The sensations seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, and his cock swelled almost past the point he could bear.

His head was swimming. He was half a heartbeat away from complete mindless need, and every deep animal instinct told him to rip the last bits of clothing off of the two of them and mount her, but he fought back the urge.

He hadn’t gotten to taste her yesterday, and this time he was going to.

Grasping her wrists, he pulled her hands away from him, murmuring, “Just a minute. Easy now.”

In his peripheral vision, he saw her eyes flash, but she calmed almost instantly when he pulled her jeans the rest of the way off, and put his mouth between her thighs.

And he breathed deep of the sweet, intoxicating smell of her, and began to give her all the pleasure he knew how to give.

* * *

Oh, dear sweet freaking saints in heaven
. Nick had his mouth between her legs. Amber threw back her head and squeezed shut her eyes, amazed at the sensations sweeping through her. His tongue was hot and firm and almost overwhelming, sliding along to part her lips and taste the slick wetness he’d already created there with his kisses and his hands stroking her breasts.

All that had been wonderful, more than wonderful, but
this
new pleasure was something she didn’t even know how to describe.