Words of Lust (21 page)

She slapped him.

“Shit!” He flung himself away from her and slammed his fist into the wall with a roar.

She gasped and shielded her face with her arms.

Shocked, he stopped his tirade and stepped back. Fuck. He’d totally crossed the line. His heart sank at the look on her face, terrified and accusing.

“Christ, Serafina, honey, I wasn’t going to hit you. I’d never hurt you.” He reached for her.

She turned her face away and stood quivering in the corner, shrinking away from him in fear, tears streaming down her face. “Get away from me.”

“I’m sorry. Shit, I’m sorry, okay? I lost my temper. But I can’t promise it won’t happen again if you insist on being so blind and stubborn.” She didn’t answer him, and she didn’t move. He turned back into the apartment and rummaged through her closet until he unearthed a suitcase. He packed her bag while she stood, silent, in the same spot in the hallway, until he came back with her wheelie and satchel. This time she didn’t fight him when he took her by the arm and led her out of the apartment. In fact, she never said a word, just walked along beside him like a zombie. His mood grew from bad to even worse as he berated himself. He had thoroughly and completely screwed up.

* * *

He helped her out of the truck when they reached his loft and pointed out the newly installed floodlights that lit up the parking area like it was daytime. He checked the immediate area around them and hustled her to the entry. He had key-card access now, and the heavy dead bolt Berto had installed had a nice, solid sound to it as the door slid open. They’d put in higher-wattage lights in the hallway leading to the elevator and his new electronic key let them ride up to his floor, where he used the key again to gain entrance. Without a programmed key-card, the new security setup made it impossible for an intruder to do either.

She hadn’t spoken to him during the drive, and she refused to look at him or speak once they were locked inside. Between hours of sex and their screaming match, she had to be completely wiped out. He frowned and cursed Boxer. The guy had a beating coming just for scaring his woman. He was to blame for frightening her, but it had all started with Boxer.

Once inside, she didn’t make a move to unpack or do anything. She sat on the sofa, staring at the floor. Cursing under his breath, he set her satchel by his desk and made a space for her where she could plug in her laptop and her cell charger. His closet was large and he had plenty of drawer space, so while she sat in stony silence, he put away her things. Once, he caught her watching, but she turned away again, so there was no further debate. There was no point in her living out of her suitcase and besides, looking around he was grimly pleased at the sight of her belongings in his space. It was as if the place had been unfinished until she arrived. Now if he could just get her to stay. Finally, she walked past him and after taking a nightgown out of the drawer where he’d put it, she went into the bathroom.

It was late and he was totally drained. He needed to apologize, and they had to talk, but he was smart enough to leave her alone for the time being. After a good night’s sleep maybe he could make it right in the morning.

When she lay down on the bed, as close to one side as she could be, clearly wanting to avoid him, he stomped into the kitchen, where he grabbed a beer, and then went to his desk to read. He turned off all the overhead track lights and left only a small desk lamp lit so she could go to sleep. An hour later, when he walked quietly around to her side of the bed he could see the tracks of tears on her cheeks, but she had fallen asleep. He stripped down and slid onto the opposite side of the bed. He desperately wanted to hold her, but he kept his hands to himself. As punishments went, it sucked.

Chapter Seventeen

“I’m sorry.”

When she woke up the next morning and went straight into the bathroom without speaking, he followed her in. He’d lain awake almost all night long cursing Boxer, and himself, and her too, for her stubbornness. But this time the fault lay with him and he was determined to wear her down and make it right.

“I’m sure you are.”

She didn’t look at him but they were making progress if she was willing to speak to him. Even if she sounded like a pissed-off schoolteacher.

“Serafina, look at me.”

“I’d prefer not to.”

He took her by the arms and gently but firmly turned her to face him. Her eyes blazed with a cold fury and he frowned. “I lost my temper. I know it. But I don’t ever want you to be afraid of me. I would never touch you in anger, I’d never hurt you. I swear it.”

“It’s not just your temper. I don’t like it, but it’s the way you treat me, Nick, as though I’m incapable of handling my life. I’m not a child but you treat me like one. I don’t have to stand for that.”

“I do not think you’re a child. I know full well that you are a grown woman and it’s impressive as hell that you took care of yourself and have achieved so much. But this time it’s not about me holding the door or giving you money. It’s about keeping you safe from a big, scary guy who wants to hurt you. Refusing to let me help you is nuts.”

“So you’ve progressed from calling me a child to telling me I’m crazy? That’s not an improvement.”

“Can we please sit down and talk? I can’t stand having you mad at me and I know this was my fault, but I want you to understand how I feel.”

“Fine. Then it will be my turn to explain to you how I feel.” She pulled out of his grip and stalked into the living room and sat down on the sofa, her arms crossed, staring at him defiantly. He sat as close as he dared, then put his hands on her knees. She didn’t shake them off.

“Okay, I’m going to lay it all out for you, because it seems like you have a massive chip on your shoulder and everything different about us bothers you. Here’s what I think. I am older than you, which means nothing except my parents got frisky before yours did. I’m bigger and stronger than you. That’s because I’ve got a Y chromosome. Not my fault—and it can come in handy for fixing the plumbing, carrying the groceries and beating the snot out of stalkers. And you’re smarter than me. I’ve told you it doesn’t bother me, and I mean it. It’s a very cool twist of fate and means you will be able to beat me at Jeopardy, except in the sports category, but that’s pretty much it. That’s the way it is. If I don’t have a problem with your smarts, why do you have this chip on your shoulder about your age? Fuck it, Serafina, we’re people, bottom line. Human beings with hearts and minds and bodies that are different, but we are damned equal. You’ve got a temper and hell, yes, so do I. We’ll have more fights, and we’ll have fucking hot makeup sex. But nothing I say is meant as an insult to you. You say you don’t want my help, you refuse to let me protect you. But you do the same for me. Sure, you can’t beat the crap out of Boxer, though it would be fun to watch you try. But you stood by me and defended me to that Parker bitch. You make me feel amazing every time you touch me. You did your damnedest to keep my mind off Cara and that’s protection, in my book. And I remember a beautiful lady telling me how glad she was I’d come to the hospital to see her. That wasn’t so bad, right? Letting me help you? So how about we admit that we both sometimes need protection and your skill set means one kind, and mine another, and it has nothing to do with who’s the oldest or the smartest.”

The cold anger in her eyes had begun to fade. She looked like she was listening to him, hearing him. He hoped he was making sense.

“We can always talk and you can tell me anything.” He slid his hands under her legs and pulled her closer. “There can’t be anything harder than sharing what we share physically. I know you didn’t have a wild sex life before us, but you’ve let your guard down to enjoy everything we do. I just want to see you let your guard down about the rest of life. Watching you change from this shy, sexy, vulnerable woman who couldn’t say what she wanted to telling me to fuck you against the wall? Don’t you think I know that took courage? I know that those guys you dated made you doubt yourself, but you stepped up and you wouldn’t let them ruin your life.”

“Nick,” she whispered.

“I’m not done yet. It all comes down to one thing. Do you trust me? To be open and honest with you? Do you believe that I respect you and trust you?”

“It’s so hard for me. It has been for years. Especially after my mother died. When my father died it was bad, but we helped one another get through the pain. Even when my mother’s strokes began to debilitate her, I could talk to her. I still had someone to share my life, and I had her sweet smile, her voice on the phone. Then, suddenly, I was alone. There was no one to lean on during that awful time. Later there was no one to celebrate with when I graduated or got jobs. I was so lonely. No friends, really, no family. All I did was bury myself in my work, until, with time, it sort of faded. All I had was a bearable solitude. Nick, I had to depend on myself for everything from the time I was fifteen. That’s when Mom had her first stroke and after that I had no mother. I was the mother. It’s what I’m used to. I realize it’s aggravating, telling you I’m fine with having you take charge when we’re making love, but turn around and get mad when you do it outside the bedroom. It isn’t that I don’t want your help, your protection, don’t you see? It’s that you just take charge without even asking me what I want, without letting me decide. I want to be asked. You have to trust me to know when I need help and when it’s important for me to handle something myself.”

“Don’t you think I know how hard it has been for you? Nothing I’ve said was meant to hurt you. I don’t think you’re stupid or childish. Just sometimes incredibly stubborn when you refuse to listen, refuse to hear me. Do you believe me when I said I would never hurt you, never lay a hand on you in anger?”

“Yes.”

“So you do trust me? Trust me to try and be what you need—not force you, but understand you? Ask, not order? Take the leap, Serafina. For the first time in your adult life, believe in someone, take that scary step and trust me.”

Tears rolled down her face as she stared at him. He could see the longing on her face, the desperate need to believe, to take what he was offering.

“Give me the gift of your trust, and I will never let you down.”

Her mouth opened and closed. She gave a hiccupping sob and then the dam burst and she threw herself into his arms. She clutched him as hard as she could and he put his hands on her head so he could kiss her.

“I trust you, Nick, I do.” She sobbed when he pulled away. “I’ve always trusted you, really. Since the day I met you. And you’re right. I’m sorry, too, because I threw it in your face when all you wanted was to keep me safe. I’ve been stubborn because that’s what has gotten me through life. So it’s hard to accept there’s someone else there for me.”

“Ah, Professor. It’s always tough to look at what you really want and admit it. I know you want to be strong and independent, but you are, don’t you see? Letting someone help you shows strength. It shows that you are strong enough, secure enough to lean on someone when they can help you. I can admit I need you. I need you to make me smile, and tell me you respect me. I need you to share music and food and dirty books. What is life if there is no one to share the good things with? No one to share the burdens of the bad times with?”

“I had a long talk with a friend of mine, Caroline. I was so conflicted because I was afraid letting you spank me, take control of me in bed, sent you the message that you were in charge all the time. I thought you were trying to tell me what to do and I fought it. I overreacted. And I’ve wanted to tell you about Boxer, how afraid I was, but I didn’t want to be a burden. I hated there was something I couldn’t handle.”

“You know what I heard when you shared your fantasy with me? I heard you say you wanted to be taken away from a cold, lonely world, where no one loved you. That you wanted a big strong man to love you, overwhelm you and make you feel safe and protected. Even if what makes you feel safe is being overpowered in bed. But also to be held in strong arms that won’t let you go because those arms belong to a guy who knows how scared you are and he can give you the safety you want in your life. And the love.”

“That’s what Caroline said too.”

“Then I think she must be a very smart lady.”

“It is hard to admit you like it when a man dominates you because you fear it means you’re weak.”

“Knowing your own mind, your own needs, isn’t weak. Watching one another’s back makes us equals. A team. That’s what couples do. They figure out what their partner needs and then they provide it. We’re still learning. We’ve both made mistakes, but we’re a good team. Hell, with my brawn and your brains we’re a fucking unbeatable team. You and I are the only ones who can screw this up. Not Boxer, or Parker or friends or family. You. Or me. And just in case you need to hear it again to get it through that thick skull of yours, I love your smarts.” He looked at her watery eyes, her bruised face. “Hell, I love you, Serafina. I love you.” He watched her get all anxious and he shook his head. “I know, there are those rules, right? The man’s supposed to be the one who can’t commit, right? I can see those wheels turning in that sexy brain of yours. I can see you worrying. ‘Do I need to say it?’ or ‘Will he get mad at me if I don’t say it back?’ No, and no. Guess what, babe, on this, you’re not so smart. I’m big and strong and I can say it first and, as you like to point out, I have a healthy ego. I absolutely know what I feel and what I want. I love you. I’ve never said it to another woman. Ever. And I’ll keep saying it to you until you get where you need to be. You’ll come around. I know it. And I can wait.”

“Thank you.” She snuggled closer, looking for comfort, so he gave it to her. “Thank you for understanding, thank you protecting me, caring about me, loving me.” He held her and rocked her and wiped the tears off her face. The sun rose in the sky and was high overhead when they finally uncurled themselves. His legs were cramped and his arms were asleep and he couldn’t have cared less. He’d broken through her fears, her stubborn beliefs, and he’d told her how he felt. And it was the most amazing feeling in the world to tell her he loved her, because it was one hundred percent right. They’d beat the odds. He’d fight for her, and she’d find her way and would fight for him, and one day soon she’d stop being afraid and she’d say the words to him.

* * *

They needed to get fresh air and stretch their legs and it was a balmy day, so that night he suggested they go out for an early dinner.

“There’s a great seafood place around the corner. It’s quiet with romantic lighting, so if I get frisky under the table, no one will notice.” She was smiling now, had been smiling all day, and he loved seeing her happy. They showered and got dressed and he coaxed her into leaving off her panties.

“Do you know how hot it will make me knowing you’re bare under there? Your sweet little pussy just ready for me to fuck?”

“It makes me all hot and bothered when you talk like that.”

“And do you know what makes me hot? When you come across all big words and brainy talk, and then slip in something naughty. I love it when you talk dirty. It’s such a raunchy surprise.”

“I didn’t know how much fun it could be. I’m not the only teacher in the room, because you’ve taught me many, many things.”

“And the homework’s not half bad, huh? Maybe after dinner we can work on extra credit?” He kissed her again, simply because he could. He couldn’t believe his good luck at getting another chance with her. This time there’d be no mistakes.

He locked up behind them and when they got outside, gave the street a once-over before taking her hand and strolling with her to the restaurant. He pointed out some of the local shops and businesses and enjoyed the feel of her hand in his, and her presence at his side. They reached the bistro, and being early they pretty much had the place to themselves. He requested a back booth where they could be as private as possible and looked at her with a naughty grin.

“Eat up. You’ll need your strength later.”

They sampled several hors d’oeuvres and shared their different entrees with each other. It was easy and relaxed, like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

They talked and drank a bottle of wine and he watched as her face grew flushed. He pulled her next to him on the curved bench and fed her dessert. When she gave him a little feline smile of contentment he took the moment to reach under the table and slide his hand under her skirt.

Her eyes widened when his hand touched her thigh. Neither one of them said anything as he inched his way up. Then he palmed her and his cock swelled. She was wet. Soaking. He rubbed her clit until she was panting and then whispered in her ear. “You know what I’ve been wanting to do? I’ve been dreaming about putting my face between those gorgeous thighs of yours and fucking you with my tongue. I want you to come on my tongue, I want that sweet juice of yours all over my face.” He twisted the hard little nub until she gasped, and when he pushed two fingers into her, she sighed. “And I’ve been thinking about a present I want to give you. Something the gal at the bookstore mentioned. See, there’s this big, hot new book that all the ladies are reading and in it the guy buys the lady a pair of silver balls. He puts them inside her and they...move and vibrate and keep her horny. Do you think you’d like those? I’d love to slide them into you. Then I’ll take you out to dinner and watch your face and I’ll be the only one who knows why you’re smiling.” She nodded like she was hypnotized, and licked her lips.

“But for now, we have a decision to make. I can either make you come here, and hope the waiter doesn’t drop something when you make that sweet little moaning sound, or we can head back to the loft and have seconds of dessert.” He licked her ear and removed his hand. “What do you think?”

“Home.” She had a hard time getting the single word out and he congratulated himself on being able to make her speechless with lust.