Chapter Sixteen
Home never looked better than after five and a half hours on a sold-out red-eye. Arden trudged through her front door at six in the morning and inhaled deeply. She expected the scent of the ocean and the woodsy smell of the gnarled pines. Those were the perks of living along the coast just south of Montenido. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee came as a surprise, but that was the occasional perk of sharing the beachfront compound with her brother. He—and now Chelsea—lived in the main house next door, but clearly someone had neglected to buy coffee, and with the nearest Starbucks a good thirty miles up the coast in Montenido, a trek across the sand sometimes won out. She didn’t mind. The footprints ran both ways.
She parked her big wheeled bag at the base of the floating staircase leading to the second story, placed her carry-on beside it, plopped her purse on the first stair, and headed through the open living area to her kitchen. On the way, she kicked off her shoes and sank her toes into the shaggy extravagance of the impractical white rug she’d fallen in love with at a Turkish bazaar three years ago.
Falling in love in Maui had proven even more impractical. The ache in her chest served as a constant reminder. Rafe strolled out of the kitchen holding two mugs of coffee. “Welcome home,” he said, and handed her one.
“Thank you.” She took the mug, inhaled deeply, and let the warm, caffeine-laced steam wake her foggy brain. “Coffee machine on strike at home?”
He smiled. “We were out. Chelsea stayed in Montenido last night for a thing at Las Ventanas. I figured I’d sneak over here and borrow a cup. I didn’t expect you back until tomorrow. You look wrung out.”
“Red-eye.” She lifted the mug and took a sip. “This will help.”
“No.” His eyes narrowed. “There’s something else. Something caffeine won’t cure.”
Now it was her turn to narrow her eyes. “Dad contacted you.”
“Mom contacted me. She told me you abandoned her in Maui. She thinks something’s wrong.”
“Yeah, she and Dad are going to have to deal with each other directly for the first time in twenty years.”
His lips quirked. “About time. Good for you. Why don’t you look happier now that you’ve removed yourself from the middle of that train wreck?”
“I’m perfectly happy.” Then, to her horror, she burst into tears.
Rafe, to his credit, didn’t take his coffee and run. He maneuvered her into the living room, put her mug on the oversize glass table strewn with sand dollars, and sat her in the low-slung leather sofa she’d bought less for comfort than its ability to sit there looking sexy. Aside from an occasional pat on the shoulder, he let her cry until the worst of the storm passed. When the sobs subsided to deep, shuddery breaths, he handed her the mug, waited until she’d downed a swallow, and said, “Tell me what’s going on.”
She did, in a disjointed, wandering, but mostly PG-rated version of the heartbreak she’d decided to bring on herself.
“All right,” he said carefully, “let me see if I’ve got this straight. Nick showed up for the date, and that shows he’s not interested in you?”
“Exactly. If he were into me, he wouldn’t have kept the date with Arden St. Sebastian. Look, I know it’s messed up—”
“He knew it was you.”
“—but he let me think he wanted…what?”
“He knew it was you,” Rafe repeated. “As much as it kills me to lift suspicion from this guy, he knew. I ran into him in the hotel lobby before you and I went to breakfast last week. He’d seen us embrace, and he accused me of cheating on Chelsea. I told him I didn’t think Chelsea would mind me kissing my sister.”
Arden absorbed the news while her brother sipped his coffee. Holy…shit. “He knew,” she whispered. Rafe nodded.
He’d known when he’d left the note. He’d known the next evening, when she’d been so hurt and angry she’d basically told him she only wanted one thing from him. Oh my God, the whole time she’d been testing him and thinking he’d failed, he’d been testing her. And she’d failed.
She shot off the couch. “I have to go back to Maui.”
“Hey, they have this great new invention. It’s called the phone—”
“Where is your soul? The first time I tell Nick I love him can’t be over a phone.”
The doorbell interrupted whatever counterargument her brother intended to offer. “Sit.” Rafe motioned her back. “I’ll get it. I don’t know what you ordered,” he grumbled, “but it’s fucking early for FedEx.”
When he pulled open the door, his scowl deepened. “No. I’m not signing for this.”
What in the world? Arden got up and crossed to the entry. She blinked. Nick stood in her doorway, looking rough-jawed and rumpled, and very, very determined.
…
In some secondary part of his brain, Nick noted Rafe standing in the doorway, being a dick. The same part of his brain registered weathered gray boards and fresh white trim paint, and the random tinkling of a driftwood and sea glass wind chime. The main part of his brain focused on only one thing—Arden, hovering in the entryway, staring at him in lip-parted, wide-eyed surprise.
“How? No…” She shook her head as if to clear it, and started again. “What are you doing here?”
He should have prepared for this question better. Should have prepared something charming and persuasive. Now that he saw her, all he could think was to lead with his established strength. “I promised you a soul-deep, hurts-so-good, cry-for-mercy orgasm. Are you ready?”
Charming and persuasive enough, he decided, when she launched herself at him. He closed his arms around her and staggered under the momentum of her body. Long legs wrapped around his waist, slender arms twined around his neck, soft lips rained kisses over his face—and he was home.
An aggrieved voice muttered, “I’m out.” Without turning, Nick kicked the door. It shut behind him with a reverberating slam.
So much to say, but it would have to wait—everything would have to wait—because the czarina’s hands were already pulling his shirt open. Buttons ricocheted off the baseboards. Her lips were already clinging to his, hips already pressing closer, her tongue already seeking to mate with his. He braced her against the entryway wall and drew back to speak, but—
“You. I need you.” She speared her fingers into his hair. “Now.”
He needed her, too, in every way imaginable, but the urgency right now was physical, and suddenly impossible to contain. There would be no slow seduction. No turning her around, lifting her hair, lowering her zipper, and stripping her sleek midnight-blue dress off while kissing his way down her spine.
“Hold on,” he said, but then he did the holding, tightening his arms around her protectively as he dropped to his knees. She cried out—a cock-twisting combination of shock and gratitude—when he settled her on the floor. Her hands flattened on the wide, bleached planks, but her legs remained locked tight around his waist. Another cry flew from her throat—all gratitude this time—when he hitched them over his shoulders and shoved her skirt up.
“I wish I had time to peel you out of that dress and get you properly naked, but neither of us would survive. Look at these panties”—he drew a finger down the center of the white silk—“so wet. This pussy is crying for attention, isn’t it?”
“A lot,” she practically sobbed as she propped her head against the baseboard and aimed accusing eyes at him. “You addicted me to having a lot of attention, and then you sent me to my room on Friday without any relief.” Her voice carried the sting of that punishment, but she lifted her hips to chase his touch. Rushed hands tunneled under the collar of his shirt. Her fingernails raked his back.
He teased his fingers along the panties again. “Did you use that toy I bought you to give yourself some relief? Spread yourself out in front of that big mirror and enjoy everything I was missing? Did you call me a bastard when you came?” The image of it had him scrambling to unfasten his pants and free his cock. “It’s okay if you did. I had it coming after not seeing to you myself that night, and I suffered enough for both of us.”
“I tried,” she admitted on an uneven breath. “I wanted to.”
He leaned in so he could see her face. “Where did you put it?”
“I…” Her cheeks turned pink. “Several places.”
“Here?” He traced her lips with a fingertip before sliding his finger between them.
She sucked it deep and nodded. Lightning seared every nerve ending from the tip of his finger to the tip of his cock. The burn left him momentarily light-headed.
He pulled his finger from her mouth quickly, so her lips smacked together, and worked his hand under her. “Here? Did you put it here, too?”
Her arms fell away, landing on either side of her lolling head. “E-everywhere. I tried everywhere.”
“Here?” He swept his thumb over her clit.
Her body jerked as if he’d whipped her, legs tightening, hips lifting. “Yes. For the love of God, yes.” Her hands linked behind his neck. She raised her head so their faces were inches apart and buffeted him with stormy gaze. “Nothing worked. You, Nick.” A flex of her arms and she sealed their mouths for a hard, desperate kiss. “It has to be you.”
“It’s going to be me.”
She sobbed the word, “Hurry,” and fell back as he dug a condom from his pocket. Writhed impatiently as he rolled it on.
“I need you still now.” To enforce the requirement, he wrapped his hands around her ankles, lifted her legs from his shoulders, and moved them forward until he had her shins pressed to the wall.
She splayed her hands on the floor on either side of her hips to stabilize herself. “That’s good, Czarina. Present that pussy to me.” He leaned in, lifting his ass and slowly lowering, sliding the underside of his cock along the velvety cleft.
“It’s yours. All yours.” Somehow, she managed a little squirm. “Please.”
It might have been the squirm, or the plea, but instead of preparing her with another slow slide as he intended, he thrust—a hard, deep thrust, fueled by need and instinct and not much else.
A gasp filled the air. She reared up. Her toes pointed toward the ceiling. Her calves trembled under his hands. The gasp bottomed out to a husky moan, and then everything slowly loosened. “Oh God. I’d forgotten. I’d forgotten what it felt like to have you right there.”
He looked from her flushed, sweat-damp face to where his cock sat lodged halfway inside her plush pink folds. Gritting his teeth, he circled his hips to give her a long stir. “Coming back to you now?”
“Nick?”
“What, Czarina? Tell me what you want.”
Her head tipped back, presenting him with the graceful column of her throat. “I want you to use that big dick you’ve been teasing me with to deliver a soul-deep, hurts-so-good, cry-for-mercy orgasm.”
Holy shit, that did it. He plunged again, sinking to the hilt, drunk on the swift inhale his thrust pried out of her. Then he got to work, grinding his hips, circling, rolling, hitting every part of her before withdrawing almost completely and fucking his way deep inside her again. “I love how you feel. I love the way you tighten around me when I’m in deep. The way you ride out every inch.”
Her throat worked as she gulped air, swallowed, and gulped again. “Don’t stop. I’m close. Oh Jesus, I’m close—”
“I know.” He blinked the sweat out of his eyes and quickened the pace. “I feel it. I feel your ass clenching and your thighs trembling. I’m going to get you there. I swear.” Dots swam at the fringes of his vision. Sensations shot like warning flares from the tip of his spine to his balls. He had to get her there. Now. “Can you take a little more?”
One of her hands fluttered up, following the path along the center of her ass to home in on the tight seam where her body admitted his. “Anything. Do anything. Please.”
He slid her shins along the wall, spreading her legs wider, seating himself deeper.
She whimpered and arched up, so only the crown of her head touched the floor. He thrust once, to test the position, then adjusted his angle and thrust again, aiming the top of his cock toward her belly button. His balls crashed against her ass. Lights flickered in front of his eyes. “I know I made you wait for this. Made you wait a fucking week, suffering and unfinished while I took my time and learned to read your body like a map. But I learned well, Czarina. The wait ends now, and it ends only one way. You, coming on my cock so long and hard you forgive me for taking seven goddamn days to deliver on my promise.”
He rocked into her again, and again, until her whimpers filled his head and her body shattered into wave after wave of devastating spasms. And then those waves were on him, breaking over him, taking him down until his lungs burned, his muscles screamed, and his body surrendered to something so powerful it wasn’t a product of her, or him. It could only be a product of them.
When he could feel his extremities again, he eased off her. She moaned softly when he withdrew, and moaned again when he lowered her legs and gathered her into his arms. She settled on his lap, legs hooked around his waist, arms twined around the back of his head, face pressed to his shoulder. They probably looked like a couple of shipwreck victims in their tangled clothes. He ignored his urgent heart and waited until she raised her head and offered him a dazed smile.
Then she shivered as warmth trickled from her body to coat his abdomen like liquid afterglow. A blush swept into her cheeks. “Oh geez…”
She would have gotten up, but he tightened his arms around her and held her in place. “Mine, too, Czarina. It tells me that one wasn’t fake.”
The blush deepened. “I can’t believe you came all this way to give me a soul-deep, hurts-so-good, cry-for-mercy orgasm.”
He tried to take a deep breath to relax the bands of tension around his chest. It didn’t completely work, but he’d have to manage because it was time for full honesty. No more games. “I didn’t. Or not entirely,” he added when her brow crinkled. “I also came to give you this.” He dug the box from his pocket.
Her eyes darted between the box and his face. “What is it?”
“Another carefully selected item. Open it and see.”
She took the box, tore the wrapping away, but her fingers hesitated on the lid. He flipped it up and watched her face closely as she stared at the anklet tucked inside. Her eyes flew to his, full of uncertainty.
“I didn’t want you to leave Maui without a souvenir this time.”
With shaking fingers, she lifted the silver chain and turned it this way and that, examining the charms. “I can’t believe you brought me my Maui wowie anklet.”
“It’s not exactly the same.” He touched the silver heart, tipping it so she could see the inscription.
Arden and Nick.
“Oh, Nick—”
“Now that we’ve gotten the a soul-deep, hurts-so-good, cry-for-mercy orgasms out of the way, I think it’s time for introductions.” He held out a hand. “Hi. I’m Nick Bancroft, and I’m in love with you.”
Her cheeks returned to his favorite shade of pink and her lips quivered. Relief loosened the band across his lungs. She slid her hand into his.
“Hi. I’m Arden St. Sebastian, and I’m in love with you, too.”
He dipped his head and swept the last word off her lips. He wanted to taste it. Savor it. Share it with her. By the time he gave her back her mouth, they were both breathing fast.
“So,” she started, “this could be complicated.”
“Too complicated for a Siberian princess and a NASA astronaut?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I hear Siberia’s beautiful in the spring.”
She hugged him tight. Her laugh tickled his ear. “I wouldn’t know, but Maui’s perfect.”
“Maui. Siberia. Montenido. I don’t really care about the logistics. Wherever you are, Czarina, that’s the perfect place for me.” He reinforced that with a kiss, and was working her zipper down when her phone chimed from somewhere in the nearby luggage.
“Dammit.” She crawled off him, dug her phone out of her purse, and stared at the screen. “My Dad never quits.”
“Ah, shit. I forgot. I have a message from him.”
“Really?” Her attention shifted to him. “What does he want?”
“He told me to tell you he was right.”
She tossed her phone over her shoulder and stepped toward him, reaching behind her for her zipper. “Just this once, I’m going to have to agree. Don’t tell him I said so.”
He stood and took her into his arms. “Czarina, my lips are sealed.”
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