Chapter Sixteen
Nakos waited a beat until the shock eased out of her expression and for desire to replace it. Cheeks flushed and respirations nonexistent, she stared at him.
Good. She had zero comprehension how hard it had been to keep his hands off her this week. And for her to imply this was all a game to him ticked him off to the point of no return. Some day, some how, he was going to get through to her. He’d probably end up in a padded cell for his efforts, but she was worth every blatant head bashing he was bound to inflict.
Reminding himself undoing thirty years of damage didn’t happen overnight, he set her back on her feet. She slid down his body, rubbing against him and upping his need to critical.
“Come take a shower with me?” They’d both been working all day. Besides, undressing her was a fantasy he couldn’t eradicate. Getting her wet, in more ways than one, had him thickening with the visual. “Please,” he growled.
“Okay.” A breathy whisper. Several blinks. “Now, you mean?”
In answer, he crushed his mouth to hers, wrapped his arms around her, and carried her across the hall. He kicked the door shut and cranked the shower faucet, never taking his lips from hers. Desperate noises purred from her throat as he devoured. He could spend centuries on the hot, wet cavern of her mouth alone.
He fingered her white blouse and eased away enough to look in her eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I accidentally walked in on you.”
Undoing the buttons slowly, he kept his gaze on hers. Hesitancy and nerves swam in her eyes, and irritation pounded his temples. The dieting? How she wouldn’t wear a bathing suit while they’d gone swimming at the creek? He knew it boiled down to the misguided image she had of herself. But he’d show her how wrong she was.
He peeled the shirt from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Her eyes drifted closed, but he looked his fill. Showing her he wasn’t shying away and that he liked what he saw would hopefully prove to her just how much he loved her body. Her generous breasts were trapped behind white lace, and he freed them with one flick, sliding off her bra to join the blouse. Her panting increased, but she kept her eyes shut like she couldn’t handle it if she found disappointment in his.
Never.
Kneeling, he unsnapped her pants, dipped his fingers in the waistband, and skimmed both her panties and the jeans down her legs. Without a word, she stepped out of them. Her arms trembled and her hands fisted as if fighting instinct to cover herself. And still, her eyes didn’t open.
On his knees, he set his hands on her hips and took her in. She had curves and softness instead of angles and edges. Something for him to grab onto, not a thin rail with no substance. Her cocoa strands and rosy nipples against her fair tone made his heart pound. Hourglass shape. Long legs. Supple flesh he was dying to sink his teeth into. Breathtaking.
“Beautiful, anim.” His throat tightened as he glanced up at her.
Finally, her lids lifted to reveal doubt and...hope.
“Beautiful,” he repeated and stood. He kissed her gently, taking his time for her to acclimate, and keeping his hands on her waist. Her uneven breath mingled with his, warm, teasing. He swept his lips against hers, coaxing, then licked the seam for entry. She granted him access, and he stroked her tongue with languid brushes and lazy swirls until the stiffness left her frame. “Undress me.” Not only would he thoroughly enjoy it, but it would give her some control back.
For that, she wasted no time. Fisting his tee, she dragged it up his torso and over his head. The jeans came next, taking his briefs along for the ride. Then, with pink tingeing her cheeks, her gaze roamed over him. Sparks ignited under his skin the longer she stared. He couldn’t recall a woman ever studying him with such precision before. If not for the appreciation in her mermaid eyes, he might’ve given in to the need to squirm.
Her gaze flicked to his. Held. With one look, she beseeched him to act. Told him she wanted him. Needed to be taken.
Picking her up, he deposited her in the shower and stepped in after her, closing the curtain. Steam surrounded the small space, creating a seductive fog just for them. Water trailed down her lush body and...hell. He was going to lick every drop from her skin.
First, he made quick work of washing himself while she watched, then he backed her under the spray. He shampooed her hair and paid extra attention to lathering her body afterward, skimming his rough hands over satin flesh. The build up made her lids grow heavy as he lingered over her nipples, puckered from the stimulation, and between her legs, where he stroked her folds.
Though he preferred taking his time with a woman and patience paid off, he’d never had to put so much energy into foreplay. Not that being with her required effort, but Amy took longer than most to teeter over the ledge. It forced him to cease the frenzy, absorb details, and he found he didn’t mind. At all. Hell, it was most enjoyable. There was something oddly arousing about watching her slow climb, focusing solely on her and knowing only he could make her come undone.
Each touch and caress was a roadmap to her emotions, the parts she’d kept contained and dare not let loose. New, yet familiar, and the mystery only added to the punch. Being with her was like discovering uncharted territory and realizing the clandestine terrain was...home.
She grabbed the back of his neck and rose on her toes, her bluish-green eyes round. She stared at him, teeth sunk into her lower lip like she was trying to decide what to do. He skimmed his hand down her drenched hair, letting her work it out, wanting more than anything for her to...
Kiss him. Mouth wide, she plunged. Gone were any reservations and hesitancy as she ate at his mouth. Nips and sucks and thrusts of her tongue meant to have him genuflecting. She pressed against him, skin slick with water and hot as sin.
Hihcebe, yes. Lightning zinged through his whole system, searing nerves and boiling his blood.
Arms around her, he turned them, pushing her spine-first against the tile. Her body was a welcome cushion to his hard frame and they fit. Unerringly right. Like nothing in his life ever had before, they just...fit.
Rootless, fevered need coursed through him and, again, he knelt in front of her. Without wasting a second, he latched onto one of her nipples and sucked it between the roof of his mouth and his tongue while water rained over them. She cried out and he groaned in satisfaction. Shoving her fingers in his hair, she clenched the strands and arched. He moved to the other breast and repeated his motion, glancing up at her.
Damn, but she was something. Swollen lips and flushed cheeks and wet lashes framing lost-to-the-moment eyes. Pride mingled with lust inside his chest, and all his remaining blood supply headed south.
He nipped his way over her stomach and reached around to palm her round ass in both hands. She moaned, trembling in his hold. He traced a path up one thigh and down the other with the tip of his tongue, hoping it would drive her as mad as she was making him. The sharp tug on his hair gave him his answer. Without warning, he buried his face below her small triangle of dark curls.
“Oh God.” She gasped, her legs shaking, and he dug his fingers in the flesh of her backside to keep her upright. “Nakos...” She bucked, and he grinned.
He lapped at her wet folds, sinking his tongue inside her, then followed it up with a flick of her clit. One of her arms went wild, slapping the tile, the other nearly jerked his hair from the root. Relishing the slight kick of pain, he went at her again, keeping the rhythm since it seemed to be working for her.
Eyes on her, he had to fight not to stroke his aching, throbbing shaft. It was like watching her peel away layers of accumulated neglect to expose the tender core underneath. The fervor and passion she’d kept buried or, possibly, never knew was there eked to the surface, one lip bite at a time. Hips undulating, head thrown back, eyes pinched tight in a pleasure/pain combo, she succumbed to him and let go.
Her sudden cry and convulsions shocked him into almost dropping her. He hadn’t been at it long, and this climax had come in what seemed like way shorter time than when they’d been on the couch. But there she went, splintering in his hands and under his mouth like the gorgeous damn angel she was. Quaking, she parted her lips, and he just about fell apart at her feet.
Desire and need battled with affection and tenderness inside his head, his chest, making his nasal cavity sting and his dick twitch. He rested his forehead on her belly after she’d sucked in a breath, needing one himself. Grabbing her waist, he held still, idly stroking her ribs.
After a moment or sixty, she ran her fingers through his hair. When he didn’t move—or couldn’t—she set her hand under his chin and forced his gaze up to her. “Are you all right?”
There was no way to answer that. No, he wasn’t okay. He was coming unglued the deeper they got into this relationship, and he was beginning to realize every second of his life had been leading up to the point where he’d opened his eyes to find her there. And yes, he was more than okay. For the exact same reason.
Rising to his feet, he cupped her jaw. “I think I’m supposed to ask you that.”
She grinned. “I’m great.”
Satisfaction filled him even as his heart tugged. Instead of wary censure like she had the first time they’d come together, she...glowed. “Yes, you are.” He pressed his lips to hers as water beat down and steam plumed.
He went to deepen the kiss, but she...sank to her knees. His forehead hit the tile and he slapped his hands there to keep himself standing.
Glancing down, his pulse stroked out at their position. Her, in front of him, mouth inches from his shaft. She rubbed her cheek along the underside. His breaths soughed as he waited, her hair a curtain so he couldn’t see her face. Just as he was about to beg, weep, he didn’t know what...she wrapped her deft fingers around his base and pumped.
He choked. She’d obviously absorbed his preferences from earlier because her grip was firm and his eyes slammed shut in response. Truthfully, it didn’t matter what she tried or how she touched him. He was totally at her mercy. And the fact she’d done this on her own, without cues or encouragement or guidance, only jacked the sensation to holy shit.
His crown was immersed in hot, wet suction and his eyes flew open. She took him deeper into her mouth, fisting his base, and he couldn’t drag air into his lungs. Tongue swirling, lapping. Cheeks hollowing. Hand pumping. He groaned from a place so deep in his gut his ribs rattled.
Her name shoved from his lips in a hoarse, long-winded exhale. “So good, anim.”
He wanted his hands in her hair, needed to thrust, but he curled his fingers on the tile and locked his legs instead. She never paused or slowed, but when she hummed around his shaft, he lost it. Sensation after sensation flew at him, through him. Blinding heat. Raw desperation. Tension coiled in his back and surged up his spine.
“I’m there.” His brows pinched as his mouth opened wide. “Amy, I’m...”
Erupting. From the inside out.
He popped from her mouth, but her hand continued stroking. Tight around his length. Over his head. Back down. The fingers of her other hand massaged his balls, tugged, and he jerked, shuddering as wave after wave rolled through him. A shout raked his throat. Muscles dislodged from bone. Light blasted behind his closed lids.
Mary Mother of God.
She eased up, and he caught his breath. Or tried to. Her fingers trailed over his abs, his hips, and he realized she was rinsing him off. He didn’t think he could open his eyes, but he put effort into the task and stared down at her.
Someone looked pleased with herself. And she should. He was even happier, not only because he’d come, that she’d brought him there, but because she was shedding doubt and going with her instincts.
“Come up here so I can kiss you.” He didn’t wait. Grabbing her under the arms, he hauled her up his body and crushed his lips to hers.
Later, after he’d changed into sweats and a tee, and she’d put on pajamas that covered almost none of her curves, they sat out on the back deck. With her between his legs on a lounge chair, she reclined against his chest and sighed, gazing up at the stars. If he never moved from this spot, he’d consider himself lucky.
Idly, he ran his fingers through her strands and breathed in her sultry scent. Crickets chirped and leaves rustled in the humid breeze, but other than that, her respirations were the only sound. It was so dark the shadows had shadows, the inky sky the only light, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen more clearly.
Since they’d met as children, he’d been comfortable in her presence, able to say or do or be anything with her around. But once they’d become intimate, that level of trust turned the tether into a knot. Despite the way she made his heart pound, the nerves fluttering in his gut whenever she was near, he’d never felt closer to someone than he did Amy. It was uncanny, considering he never knew what was going to fly out of her mouth next and half the time he had the strongest urge to bang his head.
Maybe that was the key, though. Balance. He preferred his own company and quiet. She put the “if” in life. There wasn’t the slightest chance of things growing stale between them or for him to question whether he was settling. Not with her. Throw in the chemistry, and there wasn’t a doubt they were right where they belonged.
Yet there was darkness hiding in her mind, hovering at the fringes. He’d caught it a time or two, and he never measured the depth or how deeply it was embedded until she’d started dropping her guard. A shield he had no clue was even in place. He’d been a part of her life for more than half of his. Learning there were things she’d hidden from him was almost more jarring than the fact they were there. It went beyond basic self-esteem, too. He didn’t have an inkling what her secret was, but whatever it happened to be, it kept her from engaging one-hundred percent. She’d been holding back, and he needed to know why. They’d never get anywhere otherwise.
At first, he’d figured she didn’t have faith in them in a romantic sense. Possibly even him, to a degree. But the longer he thought about it, he was beginning to realize it was herself she didn’t trust. Like everyone else, he’d believed her false sense of confidence. No doubt, she had herself fooled. Her sharp tongue and try-to-stop-me mentality had been so much a part of her personality that it was close to genetic. Yet how much was a defense mechanism and how much was the real her?
Again, he remembered her sitting on the cliff ledge by the creek, talking to Nate. They’d been deep in conversation, and Nakos itched to know what they’d discussed. He hadn’t been able to see much when he’d glanced at them to check on her, but he’d caught a few blips of her distant expression. Nate’s, too.
Nakos hated to admit it, but the former soldier may be the best person for Amy to open up to. He’d seen and done some unimaginable things in his short thirty years on Earth, and those horrors followed him everywhere. Between Olivia and a lot of effort, he was working past it and moving on. Going after his happy. It couldn’t be easy, yet he was trying.
The most gutting part of all was, that darkness he’d seen in Nate’s eyes was a mirror to the one he’d found in Amy’s. The thought of her in pain, of anything hurting her, stole the beat from his heart.
He rested his chin on the top of her head and banded his arms tighter. As if that would be enough to hold her to him. “You okay, anim?”
She hummed quietly in her throat. “You ask me that a lot.”
Because he needed a straight answer, even if he didn’t necessarily want to hear it. “I worry about you.” All the damn time.
Silent for a beat, she traced her fingers over his forearms he’d wrapped around her chest. “I had a crush on you in high school.”
What? “I...” Didn’t know what to say. He’d had no idea. Shocked didn’t begin to cover it.
“It wasn’t hardcore or anything. An awareness or attraction, I suppose. I used to pray you’d notice, but you never did.” She sighed and turned in his arms, bringing her knees up so that she sat sideways between his thighs.
Resting her cheek on his pec, she went quiet again, but when she did speak moments later, her voice had a distant, melancholy note. “I’m used to disappointment in one form or another. I spent too much time hoping my parents would love me a smidgen of how much they do my brother, but that’s never going to happen. Or sitting alone at the kitchen table night by endless night, an uneaten meal growing colder, thinking today would be the day my husband looked at me. Or staring at myself in the mirror, wondering if I’d ever see a reflection that didn’t make me turn instantly away in disgust.”
He attempted basic oxygen exchange. Impossible. His lungs had seized. A knife dipped in acid and rammed into his abdomen would cause less pain than her admission. Still as stone, gutted, he stared at the horizon, not sure what in the hell to do.
She fingered the sleeve of his tee. “You not realizing I had some stupid crush is barely a blip in disappointments, really, but I don’t know how to respond when you want to know how I am. A lot’s happened between those idealistic girly years and today. Even if we’re together now, I’m merely chugging along, waiting for you to call it quits. I keep going back to all those instances I pretended you weren’t on my mind, when I didn’t look at every couple and wish that was us. Life’s taught me dreams are pointless and wanting something doesn’t mean I’ll ever get it.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, though. I’m here, landing on my feet like always, and ready for the next battle where I wind up flipping Karma the bird. So when you ask me if I’m okay, I lie. Because I may not be, but I will soon enough.”
Silence hung, and the agony in his chest was so brutal, he glanced down to check if his breastbone had been clawed open. All he found was her thick cap of cocoa strands covering the cavity where his heart used to be. Hollowed, devastated, he buried his face in her hair.
“Bet you’re sorry you asked. It’s much easier just to say I’m fine.”
He slammed his eyes shut, tears burning behind his lids. Breathing through it, he waited until he thought he could speak. He had to clear his throat twice to accomplish the feat. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“You didn’t. Heck, you didn’t even know.”
Wrong. He may have been blind to her feelings, but he had hurt her. Of the few people in her life she gave a shit about, he was closest to the top of the pile. And he’d unwillingly proved she was of little significance by not seeing what was in front of him. Because of how much they cared about one another, he’d probably done the worst damage.