Their second night together, he showed her quite clearly that she had made the right decision. By the third, she wasn’t sure she could keep up with him, though at least this time he was a touch more gentle with her—not by much. And now here she was, heading to his room for another night climbing over every inch of him. Earlier, he hadn’t stopped by the diner, but he had mentioned that first night that she could drop by any time.

Taking the elevator up to Niklaus’ room, she didn’t bother knocking, sticking the key into the lock and turning, stepping inside without preamble. But when she did, with the lights on, she could see that the bed was made, all the furniture returned to its right position.

Reagan frowned, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. While he hadn’t been a slob or anything with clothes all over the floor or anything like that, but there had been a sort of lived in feel to it when Niklaus was in the room.

The bed was made and looked untouched…

The bathroom was clean, all towels accounted for and resting folded on the towel bar bolted into the wall.

Everything just looked…sterile, or as much as this place would allow. It was like the past three nights had never happened, like a figment of her imagination.

Hurrying out, Reagan stopped at the front desk, ringing the small bell there to get the attention of the man watching the small television behind the counter.

“Pardon me?”

“Yeah?” He turned, wiping greasy fingers along his shirt, his gaze straying to her breasts before back up to her face again.

On a whim, she slid the key across to him. “I just wanted to drop this off for my friend. Niklaus? He’s in room three-eleven.”

The man’s eyes flickered down to the open book in front, before snatching up the key and hanging it next to its corresponding number.

“Don’t know anyone by that name, but thanks.”

Frowning, Reagan said, “He was a little over six-feet, dark hair, blue eyes…”

“Look lady, whatever name he gave you, whoever he pretended to be, that ain’t got nothin’ to do with me. Only thing I can tell you is the guy paid through the night. And I ain’t seen ‘em.”

Biting her lip, Reagan didn’t say any more, hurrying out before she could embarrass herself any further. Because what more could she say?

She only had his first name, which could have very well not been his name from what the clerk said. But besides that, she knew nothing else.

Not what he did for a living.

Not where he was from.

She didn’t even have a last name.

And worse, he was gone…and he had never said a word.

---

It was raining outside the diner, the water falling in sheets from the night sky. Reagan was sitting in a booth, counting out her tips as she waited for the downpour to lessen, at least enough to where she could get home without being totally soaked through by the time she got there. And though she had spent the entirety of the night smiling at customers, making sure everyone was pleased, she was tired and ready to get home.

Six months…

That was how long it had been since Reagan had last seen him, a night when he’d just disappeared without a word. Oh, how excited she had been when she had gone to work that next day, expecting to see him enter any moment. When he hadn’t, she didn’t think much of it, but after the second—and third, and fourth, and fifth—she had realized with a startling clarity that he must have left and gone back to wherever it was he came from.

She didn’t mean to be upset. He had only ever offered her one thing, and she had gladly accepted it—begged for it at least a couple of times if she remembered correctly. Once he was gone—and she accepted he wasn’t coming back—she still ached at the thought.

But nevertheless, after five months of trying, she had finally put him, and everything they’d done together, to the back of her mind and kept it there.

Since he had walked away, a lot had changed for her. Her father had stopped drinking, her mother was less dependent on him, and she was finally able to start saving towards her dream, the same dream she had shared with Niklaus that last night. Picking up more hours at the diner was exhausting, but in the end, she knew it would be worth it.

Yeah, Niklaus was the last thing on her mind…until he wasn’t.

Another long afternoon of showers had the air muggy as Reagan exited the diner, fiddling with her umbrella, not paying attention to her surroundings. If she were, she might have noticed Niklaus’ slow, but steady approach.

“Here, let me get that.”

Her head snapped up as she heard his voice, too surprised to do anything more than stare at him as he deftly got the button unfastened, and the umbrella open, holding it out for her.

He seemed immune to the rain, standing beneath the awning with his leather jacket on, a hoodie beneath it with the hood partially concealing his hair. He looked good—though that wasn’t very hard—however he did look a bit tired.

“What are you doing here?” She wondered if the bitterness she felt inside could be heard in her words.

Judging from the expression on his face, the answer was yes. “Was in the neighborhood.”

Considering she practically knew everybody around here, or knew someone who did, she doubted she would have missed hearing about him being back. The families around here had a habit of subtly announcing if there was someone new around.

Not knowing what else to say, and strangely hurt by his words, Reagan said, “Diner is still open.”

She tore her eyes from him, determined not to show him just how much his presence affected her—she wouldn’t give him that too. Instead, she turned her back, ready to brave the rain to get home as opposed to taking a cab, anything to get away from him sooner.

But if she thought he was just going to let her walk away, she was wrong.

While she refused to turn back, she could hear him trailing her. “Is there a reason you’re following me?”

“I’m walking you home.”

“I can take care of myself, Niklaus.”

“Undoubtedly.”

Was that humor in his voice?

“So why bother?”

“You’re worth the effort.”

Turning abruptly, Reagan frowned at him, trying hard not to notice the way the water droplets clung to his skin. “Really? Why don’t I believe you when you say that?”

Finally closing the distance between them, he asked, “Want me to show you?”

Reagan shook her head, leveling her gaze on him. “No, prove it.”

Before she could even fathom what he was doing, he had ahold of her arm, dragging her into the side alley between two buildings they were passing. She couldn’t even utter a protest before he was sliding one hand around her neck and tugging her closer, pressing his lips to hers.

Any protest she thought to have, died a sudden death as he claimed her mouth, not giving her a chance to resist. Her back hit the damp brick wall, cold seeping through the thin cotton of her uniform, sending a chill through her.

As quickly as he silenced her with a kiss, he dragged his lips across her jaw and down her neck, biting down just enough to keep her aware of what he was doing.

His hands diving beneath her skirt, he tugged her stockings and panties down her legs, just far enough that he could get his hand down between her legs. When he had his thumb circling her clit, her head fell back, her hands squeezing at the material of his jacket.

“Now how exactly do you want me to prove it to you?” Niklaus asked at her ear, pressing closer, making her aware of the erection that was straining his jeans.

“Niklaus…” His name was a whisper, her attention solely focused on the way his thumb moved against her.

She felt him smile as he said, “Use your words. Tell me.”

“Fuck, don’t stop.”

“Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you right here?” He asked, and this time, the humor was gone from his voice, replaced with a strain that she felt too.

Her thoughts may have been in chaos, but the moment the question was hanging between them, she seized on it, her sex clenching at the very idea.

“Please, Niklaus. Right now.”

He didn’t waste a second, dropping down to practically rip her stockings and panties off her. She was already one step ahead of him, stepping out of her shoes to make it easier. The moment she was bare beneath her skirt, he was back on his feet and her hands were at his belt, tugging the leather free.

Pulling a small square from his back pocket, he tore it open with his teeth, letting the aluminum packet fall to the ground at their feet.

When she finally got his jeans open, her hand closing around the hard, long length of his cock, stroking up and down. He only allowed it for a moment longer before he was sheathed in a condom and had his hands at the back of her thighs as he lifted her, making her wrap her legs around his waist.

Niklaus didn’t waste any time as he angled his cock at her entrance and pushed in. The last time they had been together, he had waited ages, teasing her for what felt like hours before he finally gave in.

Now…now there was a feel of desperation to the way he handled her, from the way he was sliding inside, to the almost painful grip he had on her ass as he held her steady.

“Shit.”

Niklaus froze the minute he heard the expletive leave her lips. Held up against a wall by 190-pounds of lean muscle was enough for a tremor to slip up her spine. It might not have been very long since the last time she was with him, but her body had obviously forgotten just how fucking big he was.

How it took a moment for her pussy to stretch enough to fit him in.

He didn’t stay still for long, gradually pulling out, enough to scrape across every nerve ending inside of her, then thrusting back in, harder than the first.

A ragged moan spilled from her lips as her back hit the wall, her hands clutching onto his shoulders, but he didn’t stop—not when she was crying his name or as she exploded into pieces in his arms.

Only when he gave one last brutal thrust inside of her did he finally come, his grip on her loosening just enough that she could finally take in a good, lungful of air.

As that haze of lust cleared, Reagan fell back to reality very quickly, pulling away from him as she straightened her clothes as best she could.

It was almost annoying how quickly his disheveled appearance disappeared when he didn’t have to do nearly as much as she did—and she bet she still looked a mess.

“Reagan—”

“Don’t—just don’t, Niklaus.” Shoving her hair out of her face, she rolled her eyes. “Is that even your name?”

He didn’t look the slightest bit concerned by her question. “I didn’t lie about that.”

Oh? She had expected he had, going over various names in her head. She had looked up his name once before, learning that it was Russian in origin—but thought that maybe his parents liked the name because he definitely didn’t sound Russian to her.

“Kind of hard for me to believe that when you disappeared six months ago. No one had even heard your name before.”

“Wanna talk?”

Reagan stared in disbelief at just how casual Niklaus asked the question—as though she wasn’t accusing him of being a liar, at the very least that he had fucked her up against an alley wall.

“I have a feeling that my definition of talk is different from yours.”

“No,” he said reaching for her hand. “I mean it.”

“About anything? You’ll tell me everything?”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

Reagan didn’t have time to ponder his words, or that he hadn’t actually answered the question, he was already leading her down the street.