Nikki

The second the front door closes, our clothes fly off our bodies like we’re allergic to the fabric they’re made of. I kiss Tulsa, wanting him to forget the bad and only feel how good we are together.

I hate all the hours wasted while our bodies weren’t connected, leaving too much time for the realities of life to slip in and do damage. “I feel empty without you inside me.”

“I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven every time we’re together.” He dips his head to the side and ravages my neck. I feel the pressure of his hands everywhere, all at once.

“I need you. I need you . . .” My voice fades off as he lifts me. Wrapping my legs around him, I squeeze to hold myself up. My husband is all man and muscle, ripped abs and cut biceps. Sexy veins and that tongue . . . “Will you go down on me?”

With his hands squeezing my ass, he’s about to take my nipple into his mouth but stops and looks up. “Don’t worry your pretty self. I’m going to spend all night savoring every part of you.” Flipping me onto the bed, he adds, “Open up, baby. I’m starting with your pussy.”

God, that’s hot.

I rest back with my head flat on the mattress and spread my legs and arms out wide. “Take me. I’m yours.”

Standing at the end of the bed, he takes his sweet Texas time looking me over, like I’m the dessert tray and he has all day. I’m tempted to pull him down or cover myself up, but he never makes me squirm for long. Kneeling to pray to my altar, he grabs me and pulls me to the end of the bed, draping my legs over his shoulders.

I can barely breathe, out of desperation for him. His kiss. His touch.

The Tulsa special appears just before he licks his lips and lowers his mouth to me. I always jerk on contact from his hot breath and soft lips that caress me as if he’s only got one last kiss to give, and he plans to make the most of it.

As he sends me racing toward the edge of an orgasm, I start to slow down and feel. I feel something so powerful, a connection with him that I’ve never shared with anyone.

This is more than love and deeper than lust. This is soul expanding. My heart feels so open, so ready to receive all his love, so ready to give all he needs. “Tulsa?” I pat the bed when he looks up. “Come here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” We move up the mattress until we’re settled with our heads on the pillows. I roll onto my side, wanting to see him. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t come. It doesn’t matter that he’s kissed my lips down there. I just want to be swathed in his love. I want my body enveloped by him. I want him wrapped up in me. “I love you.”

His palm rests on my chest, and he kisses my shoulder. “C’mere.” Snuggling into his side, our breath is heard, our hearts beating together, our souls tangled up in each other. “I love you.”

A few minutes pass when his body eases over mine, and he kisses me as he positions himself between my legs. Looking into my eyes, he says, “My whole world is right here.”

“My universe,” I whisper. Pushing in, he presses his lips to mine, and I swallow his heavy exhale, wanting everything he’ll give me. When we part, I repeat, “I love you.”

The words fade into low moans; our eyes are open, each of us not wanting to miss a moment of this. Our bodies move together as we reach for our release. “I want us to come together.”

“We will.” Dropping his head to my shoulder, he moves his body with determination. “I’ll make you feel like you make me feel. So good, baby.”

Using his shoulders for leverage, I meet him thrust for thrust, his erection hitting me in all the right places every time we push together. I start to fall over the edge, my mind focused on the sensations of lust and love. On him. Losing track of time and myself, he consumes me.

Tulsa.

Tulsa.

“Tulsa.”

We finish strong, and together. He collapses on top of me, and I hold him tightly. Kissing the side of his neck, I whisper once more, “I love you.”

Moving off me, he falls on his back. “Why? Why do you love me, Nikki?” How can he not know?

“That’s easy to answer.” I run my hands up his neck and into his hair. “I love you because you make my heart feel full.”

“That’s my job as your husband. Heart-filler. Supporter of dreams. Love maker.” He winks, which makes me smile, matching how I feel inside.

“How did I get so lucky?”

“It’s not luck, darlin’. It’s meant to be just like this.”

I curl against his side, resting one of my legs on his, my arm over his middle. The beat of his heart, strong and steady, giving me solace here in his small apartment, in his bed, our bed, that holds the faint scent of him. My senses are comforted, my body relaxed. “Meant to be,” I whisper, and kiss his shoulder as my eyes grow heavy.

He kisses the top of my head, and whispers, “Sweet dreams.”

* * *

“Are you sleeping?”

“I’m awake.”

He sounds too awake for the hour. “Thinking about Berk?”

“Yeah.” He rolls to his side, and with the moonlight filtering in through the blinds, I can see the worry in his eyes.

Massaging his scalp gently, I try to comfort him. “Laird used to tell me I was a bonus baby my parents won in a raffle at the hospital.” The memory makes me laugh. “I shouldn’t find it as funny as I do, but I guess I can because I always knew it was a joke.”

“I’ve never questioned who my parents were. My mom was the best,” he says with a soft smile that comes from reminiscing. “It didn’t matter that our father left. Honestly, we barely noticed. He came back a couple of times over the years, but my mom wouldn’t take him back. He was an alcoholic who used to pick fights with us an hour after declaring he was home. Eventually, he stopped coming around. That’s what I remember about him.” Running his hand along the dip of my waist, he watches me with a tinge of betrayal in his eyes. “My mom was all we needed.”

“I’m sorry.” I wish I could give him more than an apology. For him, I’m sorry his mom’s no longer here, and that this mess has landed at his front door.

The heat of his palm warms my cheek as he caresses me. “She would have loved you. You have all the qualities she would want for her sons. Spirited—”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” I laugh. “I’ve been called worse, so spirited is an upgrade.”

His smile sours. “What are you talking about? What have you been called?” He seems to answer his own question silently, then adds, “He’s a fucker. I’m glad you have security at the shows, but I’ve been wondering if you need more.”

“I’m not going to live in a bubble. It’s not like I’m some huge star.”

“I’m your biggest fan, sweetheart, but I worry about the psychos.”

“Don’t worry about me.” I love the feel of his scruff under my fingertips. “I can handle myself.”

He exhales a deep breath. “I know you can. I just . . . it’s bullshit. You shouldn’t have to. What if I can’t protect you?”

I see sadness, disappointment, and anger. The three emotions slide over him and change the mood between us. Sitting up, Tulsa swings his legs over the side. “I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore. All because some asshole showed up and made me question everything I thought I knew.” He drops his head into his hands. “Why did you marry me?”

How can he even ask that? I now understand that even though he’s always been cocky, it doesn’t mean he thought of himself as marriage material. When he proposed to me, there wasn’t even a choice. I knew my answer was yes in that instant. But we’d only known each other for six weeks, so his question is valid.

Why did I say yes?

And the answer is quite simple when I really stop to think.

He loved me. I wasn’t the county beauty queen. I wasn’t the lead singer of Faris Wheel. I wasn’t the smart-mouthed bad girl ready to be reshaped. He loved me. I was, and am, just me, Nikki Faris, and he believed I was enough.

“There are many answers to that question, but essentially it’s because you took the time to get to know me. You validated me, Tulsa. I feel cherished for the first time. I knew my heart was safe with you.” I smile at him and kiss him softly on the lips. “But then . . . it’s also because, in every way, you make sure I get mine before you get yours. And I’m not just talking sexually; although there is that, too.”

He looks back at me, the moonlight showing a twinkle in his eyes. “Getting you off gets me off.” His gaze follows the curve of my body. “But for real. You didn’t even hesitate to marry me. Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

He turns back around, so I move to his side of the bed and lean my chest on his back, resting my chin on his shoulder. With my arms around his middle, I whisper, “I’ve never been so comfortable to be myself than I am with you. It doesn’t matter if we’re singing mindlessly to the radio or publicly making out at monuments around the country. I can crack stupid jokes or argue a point, and you let me without judgment or contempt, competition, or the need to belittle me. With you, I can have opinions that matter. To most men, I’ve always felt as if I was just a pretty face.”

“Your opinions matter to me.”

“I know because you don’t just tell me how you care about me. You show me.”

“Selfish confession coming. I like going down on you because I like the way you react to me. It’s like the first time every time when we’re together.”

“No one’s ever done it before.”

He looks back at me. “No one?” I shake my head. “That’s crazy. Watching you come is as good as coming myself.”

“I know that now, thanks to you.”

He reaches behind him and holds my back, keeping me pressed against him. “Just like men, women are sexual beings.”

“Oh, I know. Trust me. I’ve said some horribly naughty things about you to Lauralee. And you’d never want to be exposed to the thoughts I have about you. My mind’s a really perverted place when it comes to you and those veins.”

He moves his forearms in front of him and gives them a twist, checking out those sexy things. “Your obsession with my veins should concern me.”

“Should?”

“I’m not worried.” I finally see the smile that melts me when he spins around and, in one quick motion, anchors me beneath him again, exactly where I love to be. “Your fascination with all parts of me turns me on.” I love the weight of him on top of me, and I realize something else I hadn’t understood until now. I am his equal. He calls me his queen, but I am his equal, and because of that, I feel both adored and safe. I’ve never felt more secure than I do when I’m with him. “Now about those horribly naughty thoughts of yours . . .”

* * *

Shutting the front door, I flip through several keys until I find the one that fits the lock. I turn it and then memorize the number on the door, so I remember which apartment is Tulsa’s when I return.

I round the corner of the building to where he parked last night but then stop. Dark hair. Fake tan. Super short skirt and cowboy boots. A woman leaning against the Bronco looks up, adjusts her hat, and smiles. “Hi,” she says, waving as if she owes me an explanation. “I’m just waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“A friend. It’s only ten, so I thought I’d wait here until he’s up.”

As soon as I notice The Crow Bros hat she’s wearing, my friendliness fades, and my claws come out. With a hand on my hip, I snap, “For Tulsa?”

“Yeah?” she replies with hope in her eyes until the poor thing catches on to what’s really happening. Her gaze flows behind me as it all becomes clear. “Oh. Are you and him . . .”

I hate jealousy. I hate the feeling. I hate the defensive mode it puts me in, but I really hate when women turn against each other when it can be avoided. I take a deep breath and try to release my annoyance. Walking toward her, I reach out to shake her hand. “Hi.”

A smile replaces the stray cat look in her eyes as she takes my hand. “Sassie with an I-E. So you know Tulsa?”

I’m tempted to say Nikki with an I, but I don’t. “I’m Nikki. Yeah, Tulsa’s still sleeping.” Taking a step, I visually scan the truck from tires to mirror, kicking the rubber like I know what I’m doing. “I was going out for coffee.” Call me a masochist, or maybe I’m just caught off guard in a good mood, but I ask, “Want to come along?”

Her head jolts back. “Are you serious?”

Walking around the truck, I reply, “Sure am.” After opening the door, I step up and look at her over the top. “Hop in.”

“Okaaay.”

I unlock the passenger door, and she opens it. “It’s a big step up. There’s a handle to help if you need it. Cute skirt by the way.”

“Thanks.” Before she climbs in, she asks, “Is this a setup? I mean, why are you being so nice?”

“Because I think sometimes women are too mean to each other.” Leaning on the steering wheel, I add, “I assume you and my h-Tulsa have been together. Because I’m with him now doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a past. I’m also pretty sure I’m a surprise to you too.” I start the engine. “Hopefully that doesn’t make us enemies.”

Not the happiest of surprises by the disappointment on her face. She climbs into the cab anyway and buckles up. “I was kind of hoping you were a visiting cousin or something, or maybe with Rivers.”

I’m not sure what to say. Is there really anything more to say anyway? When I back out, I ask, “Do you know where a Starbucks or coffee shop is around here? I was just going to drive around until I found one.”

“You’re not from Austin?”

“Nope. California.”

“Take a right out of the parking lot.” I drive, and she tells me to take another street, which appears to be a busier road. “Up on the right.”

I see the iconic green and white sign and drive toward it like a moth to a flame.

She says, “He used to have rules.”

“Rules?” I ask, pulling into the drive-thru.

Rifling through her purse, she pulls out some money. “I’d like a Caffe Americano.”

“I haven’t had that before.”

“Low in calories but packs an espresso punch. I’m careful about what I eat. I work too hard to stay in shape to blow it with meaningless calories.”

When I first saw her, everything fake popped out, but I realize how wrong I was to judge her so quickly. She’s actually quite nice. I pay for the coffees. The company wasn’t half bad. “You mentioned rules earlier.”

“No one is allowed to stay at his place. I’ve never even seen the inside.” She takes a sip, and adds, “You’re staying with him?”

“I am.” I don’t feel guilty for telling the truth, but I wish there was something I could say so she doesn’t feel bad.

So, as I trouble my bottom lip, she says, “You’re just his type.”

“Really?” Visually, I’m opposite from her in so many ways. Hair color. Eye color. She’s much smaller than I am in height and definitely in amazing shape, though I’m more fit than most women. I’d wear that skirt, and we’re both tan, though I prefer a natural one to the spray.

I guess maybe what ties us together is Tulsa. She says, “You’re really pretty, and friendly. I can see why he likes you.”

Not quite sure what to say to that, I go with a simple “Thanks.”

Parking in the same spot from earlier, I cut the engine and sit back. “Want to come in?” I know I shouldn’t, that Tulsa won’t be happy, but it seems rude not to ask.

“I should go.” She hops out and shuts the door.

I come around and adjust my purse across my body. “It was nice to meet you, Sassie. I’ll let Tulsa know you came by.”

Swinging her boot over the gravel, she grins. “Don’t worry about it. You’re too nice, so I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

I know what she means. It could go either way, and I don’t want to waste any of our day with petty arguments.

“Have a good one.” She walks to her blue hatchback.

“You too.” Before she gets in, I call, “Hey, Sassie, do you know where I can get a pair of boots like yours?”

“I work part-time over at Cavender’s on South Lamar. Come see me, and I’ll fix you right up.”

“Thanks.”

As I walk back to the apartment, sipping my coffee, I realize how much things have changed. Or maybe I’m the one who’s changing.

I could have shunned her or claimed Tulsa as mine, but I didn’t have to. She did nothing wrong, just like he didn’t. He has a past like I do. I don’t have a right to hold it against him.

With a big, goofy grin on my face, I open the door, knowing that the man on the other side is my future and I’m his. Nothing and no one can change that.