Emerson
I don’t remember a time I’ve ever felt so relaxed. I managed to forget about my job and my father, quietly enjoying my time to just be me. It did help that Nic took my phone from me and refused to let me deal with any work-related issues.
He did, however, message Spencer to ensure Gianna knew I was safe and that I’d be out of contact for the next forty-eight hours. I’ve been kidnapped for the weekend, and it feels incredible.
“Jax,” I hear Nic’s hushed whisper. “Get down, you needy bastard.”
I smile into the pillow to hide the humor I feel at the frustration in Nic’s voice. Is he seriously jealous of his cat? The little guy took up with me the minute I entered his apartment last night, and on more than one occasion interrupted our kissing and cuddling. Nic even threatened to lock him in the bathroom last night, which I refused to allow.
I feel Jax rub along my shoulder as he purrs loudly.
“You are such an ass.” Suddenly the soft feel of his fur is gone and replaced with Nic. His arm curls around me he pulls me in closer, and I go with ease.
“Did you kick Jax out again?” I turn my head and look through the wild array of my hair spilling around me. “Big tough guy is jealous of his cat.”
“I think he likes you.” He ignores my question, and I try not to laugh at the sour look on his face. “I didn’t kick him out by the way,” Nic finally answers. “I gently placed him outside and closed the door.” Then I hear Jax pawing at the door, right before his sweet little meow echoes from the small gap under the door.
I pucker out my lip in sadness, and Nic laughs.
“He’s fine.”
“He doesn’t sound fine,” I retort, and Nic rolls his eyes upward before pushing the hair away from my face.
“I want a little time with you without him headbutting my shoulder or hell, even my hip.” I am just about to argue again and continue with my “awe, poor kitty” campaign, but Nic began to kiss along my jaw. From that point, all argument was lost.
“What do you wanna do today?”
I know he asked a question, but I can’t seem to focus on much as he kisses down the side of my neck and pushes his body closer to mine. I instantly sense the excitement he’s feeling.
“This is good,” I finally say, breathlessly, and feel his body shake in laughter.
“Oh, we’re gonna do this, sweetheart,” Nic sucks on my neck softly, teasing, and I moan. “I’m asking what you want to do after I have my way with you then we shower.”
“A shower sounds nice.”
Again he laughs. “I need to clean you up after I get you all dirty.”
He rolls my body over and covers me with his own. The small sheet that had separated us moments ago—now long gone. It is challenging to concentrate when he’s shifting his hips and gliding his erection over me.
“After we’re clean and dressed.” I don’t want to get dressed, like ever. “What do you wanna do with the rest of our day and night?”
“Pizza,” I say, my eyes still closed, my back arching as I press my breasts up toward his chest. “Deep dish and then we can just wing it.”
I feel him smile against my mouth just before he kisses me. I have no idea how he expects me to carry on a conversation, a serious one at least, when he’s doing the things he’s doing. I swear to it he gets off on making me lose my ability to think, speak or even breathe regularly.
Soon the words are lost; between the both of us we find other things much more soothing. The way he touches me—it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Nic is gentle and attentive, but he is also very dominant and assertive. The way he commands my body to react by teasing and touching is an unspoken art, so beautiful and pure. So very dirty.
I’ve never had one of those out of body experiences. You know the ones where you swear you're looking down at yourself, unable to imagine the person is you, until I met Nic. He brought out so many different things in me so quickly. It was freeing and I’ll admit it left me feeling so emotionally drained, it was flawless.
“You’re so perfect,” Nic growls as he slides inside me and pauses. I can feel his chest rising and falling against my own as he holds both my hands above my head in one of his. His other hand grips my hip tightly. “This just feels so right.”
I close my eyes tightly as he begins to move. I’m lost in the feel of his body pressing to mine, him moving inside of me as his warm breath fans out over my shoulder and jaw. It all just leaves me with my head spinning.
I know he is right; this is perfect. My fear is things in my life are never this simple. There is always a condition, a thorn in the beautiful display, something that makes the perfection taste bitter in the end.
* * *
“So small, but with mighty appetites,” Spencer says and I look up to find both him and Nic watching Gianna and I eat. I should feel shame, only I don’t.
“Wah,” Gianna answers with her mouth full. “Good,” or at least I think that is what she said. It is hard to tell really.
Nic leans back in his chair, lifting his beer to take a drink as he watches me. “It is good.” I shrug, lifting the slice up to take another large bite. I don’t care that the sauce drips off my finger and lands on the plate or that the cheese strings as I pull the pizza away. But when he leans in, takes his thumb to wipe away the sauce from the corner of my mouth, and brings his finger to his lips to lick it away, I swear I almost melt.
“It's delicious,” he finally says, and I stop mid-chew to stare at him.
“That was so hot,” Gianna mumbles and of course Nic smirks. “Like if I were wearing panties, I would need to change them.”
I choke, Nic scrunches up his eyebrows and looks over at Gia, and of course Spencer smiles proudly.
“Where is your filter?” It’s now my turn to speak with my mouth full.
“Pfft,” she huffs, “please, Em, you know damn well I’ve never had one.”
After we eat Gianna and I sneak away to the restroom, and I dodge her five-minute inquisition about Nic and me. The how’s the sex, does he make you laugh, I can see he cares for you her consistent pushing of me fades when we arrive back at our table.
When I attempt to sit down in my chair, Nic reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me to his side instead. I sit on his lap, looking around to notice a few ladies looking at us with envy, and I quickly let go of my unsettled feelings. Instead, I place one of my arms over his shoulder, and when he leans in to kiss my cheek, I turn and press my lips to his instead.
“Mm,” he groans against my mouth, “you always taste so good.”
“Pizza and beer,” I say with a smile, and he shakes his head.
“No, it’s so much more.”
When he says things like that it leaves me a bit floored. I am so used to hearing things such as, “so elegant and glamorous,” or even “you are a woman of taste.” Those phrases all seem so impersonal, but with each word Nic speaks he makes me feel beautiful.
After one last kiss to my lips, I turn to find both Gianna and Spencer watching us. Spencer looks a little shocked maybe, but Gia is smiling big and bright. “You are both too cute.”
I feel my cheeks heat at her words and look down to avoid her stare.
As we leave the restaurant, Nic reaches out and links his hand with my own. It is sweet really, but also an action I am not used to. It was so laid back and youthful, and I had been forced to spend time with nothing more than a bunch of stiff, spineless men who walked around as if they had a stick up their ass, too mindful of those around them and what others may think instead of doing the things they desired. Nic is so unlike them. If he wants it, he takes it. If he feels it, he reacts. He doesn’t care who sees it or what they think of it.
We end up at the Willis Tower, even though I was opposed to it. Something about being on a glass balcony over a thousand feet in the air as I look down at the skyscrapers and streets below me makes me feel sheer panic.
Gianna, of course, is the first person to step out, spinning around in circles taking it all in. Spencer joins her without pause and all I can manage to think is, How much weight can that glass hold? I was panicking for them as my hands shook at my sides. They are insane, certifiably insane.
“You ready?” I look over at Nic and see him holding his hand out toward me.
“Me?” I ask, knowing there is no one else he is talking to, and his chest shakes with his laughter. “No,” I shake my head, “I’m gonna stay right here with more than a sheet of glass beneath my feet.”
“It’s much more than a sheet of glass.”
“That is so not the point.” Even I can hear the shakiness in my voice.
“What if I promise to keep you safe?”
“Even you, Mr. Strong and Powerful Detective,” I say as I arch my brow at him, “cannot save me from a panel of glass shattering beneath me as I plummet to my death. I’ll fall and go splat on the streets beneath me.”
“You’re even cuter when you get all freaked out.” He steps toward me and I step back, which makes him chuckle. “I thought you were tougher than this?”
“You thought wrong.” I cross my arms over my chest to hide the way they tremble. “I’m not a risk taker. I do not and will never find things like this thrilling. In fact, I find those that do completely insane.”
Nic continues to circle me, a smirk on his face that makes it difficult to keep my serious expression from faltering. Again he takes another step toward me and I step away.
“You went on the Ferris wheel with me.” He tilts his head just a small fraction, waiting for an explanation.
“I’m not afraid of heights.” He steps toward me again, and again I step away. “I’m afraid of the glass breaking away from beneath my feet and falling to my death, colliding with the ground below.”
“But the Ferris wheel could have fallen.” Another step.
“True, but at least there is a chance of survival there by falling into the water, or holding on to something within it. You can’t very well grab the glass that is broken all around you and increase your chances of survival.”
“It’s three layers of glass,” he says, as if it's going to convince me somehow that this is all okay. “Tempered for durability.” And again, this means nothing to me. “And you’ve been standing, safely, on it for the last two minutes.”
My heart feels as though it sinks deep into my stomach as its echoing beat sounds in my ears. I feel my face heat, but I refuse to move. I also refuse to look down, because if I do, I might cry.
“Are you okay?” I shake my head very slowly as I continue to stand very still, my arms crossed tightly over my chest as my nails dig into the palms of my hands. “Do you want me to rescue you?”
“You are such an ass.” He laughs when I whisper, as if saying it too loudly would only cause unnecessary movements. “When and if I survive this…” His laughter deepens, and I cringe. Please don’t shake the area around me screams in my mind. “I am so going to strangle you to within an inch of your life.”
“Oh my hell, Emerson.” I hear Gianna’s surprise, though I remain completely stiff and fearful. At least until she wraps her arms around me and I stumble backward, further out into the glass enclosure of death. “You’re doing it,” she squeals, and does the worst possible thing ever—she bounces in delight. And what do I do? I scream in fear and run, right into Nic’s chest.