Tess
THE LAST TIME I put a lot of thought into what undergarments to wear, I was twenty-two years old.
Six years later, lacey bras and frilly panties aside, I no longer own any sexy lingerie, but I know who does.
After a quick shower, and way too long contemplating what to wear, I rummage through Fiona’s drawers and find a number of pieces from her bridal shower with the tags still on them.
I know she won’t mind.
We’ve shared everything but men since we were five.
In fact, she’d be tossing pieces at me right now if she were here. Well, maybe not if she knew I would be wearing the sexy number for Nick. I have no idea what she’ll say about me hooking up with Ethan’s jerky friend, as I always referred to him.
Nick and I have been careful not to flirt in front of Max, and to avoid talking to Ethan and Fiona at the same time in case they sense something. We’re not sure how they’ll feel about us hooking up while watching their son.
Hey, what they don’t know won’t hurt them.
And Max is being very well taken care of.
The driver beeps and I quickly decide on the black one, toss it in my bag, and start to rush outside, quickly turning back to get the red one, just in case I change my mind.
It’s dark and cold, but that doesn’t keep the cars off the road. Traffic is a bitch and it takes more than thirty minutes to get to Nick’s apartment building, if you could call it that.
The skyscraper looks more like luxury condominiums. Not only does the glass glimmer and reflect tiny stars down onto the Chicago River, but the sheer amount of lights surrounding the complex could brighten an entire block.
I’m surprised.
Not that I thought he’d live in a dump, I just didn’t think he’d live in such a nice place. In New York, I lived with Ansel in a loft in SoHo. It was nice. Hip. Artsy. Trendy. Completely Ansel’s style. This place is a completely different vibe. Completely Nick’s style.
Grabbing my bag, I head inside. The lobby is magnificent with its white marble floors and cherry hardwood walls. I glance down at my phone before stopping at the security desk to see what floor Nick texted to me.
“You must be Miss Winters,” the older man says.
I look up. “Yes.”
“Mr. Carrington told me you’d be arriving and he asked me to send you right up.”
“Oh, thank you.”
“Please follow me.”
“Okay,” I smile.
He leads me to the furthest elevator bank, ushers me in, steps in himself, presses a button, and then steps back out.
“Oh, which way do I go when I exit the car?”
He looks confused.
“Never mind. I’ll figure it out. Have a good night.”
“You too,” he calls just as the doors close.
The elevator rises and I suddenly feel nervous. This isn’t a date or anything, so I have no idea why.
As soon as the elevator doors open, I suddenly know why.
And his name is Nick.
As always when I first look at him, I get a little flutter in the pit of my stomach, and my skin tingles. This time though the sight of him causes my breath to hiccup and stick in my throat.
With his thick, dark hair and great body, he’s standing at the edge of the stairs that lead to his living room with a glass of wine in each hand. He’s showered, I can tell by the wet ends of his hair. He’s wearing track pants and a t-shirt. And he looks really sexy.
Just behind him is Max, who is on the couch in his pajamas with wet hair too. He’s eating pizza and watching television.
“Hi,” I wave, setting the overnight bag down.
“Hi,” he says back, stopping mid-step.
“Sorry it took me so long,” I blurt out, my nerves still aflutter.
Nick’s gaze burns over me from head to toe. “You look fantastic, so don’t apologize. And besides, the pizza arrived less than five minutes ago.”
Good, I’m glad I picked out what I did to wear. I’d hoped it wasn’t too much, but by the twinkle in Nick’s eyes, I’d say it is just right. “Thank you,” I tell him, and I can’t stop the shiver that runs down my spine as our gazes hold.
Nick seems to break out of his daze and continues striding toward me. First he hands me a glass of wine. “For you.”
I accept it. “Thank you.”
And then he leans over and kisses me. Max’s back is too us, but still I’m surprised by the gesture, and a heated rush takes my breath away.
The kiss, although intense, is short, and soon he pulls away. “How about a quick tour before dinner?”
I take a sip of my wine, wondering if my beating heart will continue to thump at this elevated pace all night. “Sounds great. Let me just say hi to Max.”
Nick nods and picks up the bag I brought.
On shaky legs, I walk toward the little tyke, who completely ignores me because he is too caught up in television show.
While in the living room, I take a minute to look around. Everything is warm and inviting in dark woods offset by light colored walls and furniture. The walls are covered in architectural-like prints. They look to be buildings, both old and new, throughout Chicago. His place looks more like a home than a bachelor pad. Drawn to the view, I walk over to the wall of windows. “I love your view.”
Nick is behind me now, and his warm breath caresses the skin of my bare shoulder. “It’s not bad.”
“You’re always so modest,” I mock.
He steps a little closer and the back of my legs graze the front of his. “I’m just being honest.”
I shake my head.
Nick points a finger out the window, using the opportunity to step even closer. “See that building over there,” he says.
With the pitter-patter spasms of my heart something I know I need to get used to, I dart my eyes to where he is directing. “The old abandoned plant?”
“That’s the one. I want to buy it from the city and build my first residential living complex.”
The excitement in his voice has me looking over my shoulder. “Would you tear it down or renovate it?”
“If at all possible, I’d like to renovate it, but it’s in bad shape, so it depends on the building’s integrity.”
“I’ve seen you at work. I bet you can do just about anything you put your mind to.”
There’s a gleam of appreciation in his eyes, and where I thought this would be the point he’d turn cocky, he appears humble. “Thank you, I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
I give him a warm smile.
Nick grabs my hand. “Come on, I owe you a tour.”
The contact causes arousal to hum low in my belly.
Oh, boy.
But Nick is surprisingly a gentleman as he shows me around his place. There are two bedrooms, two bathrooms, an office, and the living room/kitchen combo. It is luxurious and warm and inviting, and I kind of fall in love with the place.
Back in the living room, Max is now vertical on the sofa, but still entrenched in his television program. After checking on him, Nick leads me toward the kitchen island.
“How long have you lived here?” I ask.
He pulls out a barstool for me to sit. “Four years. I got the place for a steal.”
I look at him. “It’s really nice.”
Before taking a seat himself, he covers his heart with his hand. “Is that two compliments in one night?”
I bite my lip. “Yes, and enjoy it. I don’t give many, so your quota is almost up.”
“I figured,” he grins. “Pepperoni or cheese?” he asks pointing to the pizza box.
“Cheese, please.”
He puts a slice on my plate. “Ahhh . . . please. That is a word I intend for you to repeat many times tonight.”
Once I chew my first bite, I lean in a little closer. “Like you, I don’t beg.”
He gives me a wicked smile. “We’ll see.”
I roll my eyes and take a sip of wine. This is going to be a fun night, I can already tell.
By the time we finish eating, we’ve each drank two glasses of wine and talked in depth about the various buildings along the river, which I’ve been to, which he’s been inside of, and how the city has changed since I moved away.
After wiping my mouth, I set my napkin down beside my plate and look over toward Max. To my surprise, he is out cold. “I can’t believe he fell asleep,” I say to Nick, “just five minutes ago he asked for another slice and more milk.”
Nick stands and clears our plates. “I guess school tired him out today. While I move him into Lucas’s room, feel free to take a closer look at my bedroom.”
Picking up my wine glass, I look over at Nick. “Just like that? You aren’t going to use any of your arsenal of romance tricks on me first?”
His gaze narrows and he takes a step closer. “Arsenal of romance tricks? What the hell are those?”
I sigh. “You know, your game. Your technique. Bring a woman up here, show her the view, give her a night cap, light a fire outside, talk about shallow things, and seduce her into your bed, or—”
He brushes his thumb over my lips to silence me. “First of all, I don’t have an arsenal of romance tricks, and even if I did, I would never use them here. I’m not in the habit of bringing women back to my place.”
My head spins with this information. This really isn’t his bachelor pad then. At least not in the traditional sense of the word. Still, I don’t falter. “Why not?”
“I don’t like things to get too messy.”
“You mean, you like to be able to cut and run when you’re ready.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
I set my glass down and stand up. “And yet I’m here.”
He looks down at me. “You’re different.”
“Why?” I ask breathily.
“I don’t know.”
“What if I don’t want to be different?”
Nick runs his fingers over my bare shoulder. I opted for braless tonight, to make my sweater look sexier. His fingertips coast lightly down the slope, and then he draws them down the center of my off-the-shoulder sweater, stopping just below my belly button. The move thrills me. “We don’t always get what we want, baby. Like right now what I want is you naked in my bed, but you want to go round for round.”
This time I step toward him and bring my mouth close to his. “I don’t want to go round for round. In fact, I’m really glad you invited me over,” I concede.
He takes my mouth with his and suddenly his hands are tangled in my hair, yanking me closer so there is no space between us. After a long while, he breaks away and sucks in air to catch up from his kiss. “I’ll accept that as an I’m sorry and forgo any punishment . . . this time.”
Gasping for my own breath, my jaw drops open. “That wasn’t, I didn’t, I’m not into.”
He raises a brow. “You’re not into . . . what, Tess?”
“That kind of stuff,” I say meekly, hating the taste of the fib on my tongue.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Tess. I know you like it. I know how much it turns you on when I talk dirty or when I tell you to get on your knees.”
Words won’t form, so I say the one word that will come out. “Jerk.”
He smiles in amusement. “You can deny it all you want. The truth doesn’t lie.”
I cross my arms over my chest.
“Oh, come on, don’t be mad. Someday you’ll be able to admit it, but for now, we’ll pretend you’re appalled by my vulgar behavior.”
My eyes drift over him in mild irritation, but in the end, I can’t stop from allowing my lips to turn up, just a little.
At that he swats my ass. “I’ll grab us a brandy as soon as I tuck Max in, and we can . . . talk.”
Not entirely certain I want to have the conversation about kinky sex, I think about what it is we should talk about. In the end, I decide to let it be, and ask, “Do you want some help?”
Nick gives me a sly grin. “No, I got it. You just make yourself at home.”
I watch him pick Max up, all six-foot-two, or maybe three inches of him, and think he’s right.
I do like it dirty.
I do like it when he commands me.
I do like it when he takes control.
Actually, it thrills me.
The twins come to mind, and the precariousness I was feeling when I was seventeen that I thought I had buried. Maybe it was under the surface, but perhaps it could never really be suppressed.
The truth very well could be that I’m just a dirty, dirty, girl.
And I’ve never been willing to admit it . . .
Until now.