“I’ll bet.”
I hear the sullen note in his voice, but I’m not quite ready to call it jealousy. Resentment, perhaps. Suspicion, most definitely. “We talked a bit about art. When he found out I paint, he invited me out to his studio to see some of his work.”
Nick chuckles, but there’s little humor in it. “That’s a new approach, at least.” His gaze bores into me as his fingers continue to dance lightly on my inner thigh. His jaw, however, is clenched tight enough to make a tendon tick in his cheek. “What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t tell him anything. I have no interest in Jared Rush.”
I’m astonished to realize how true that statement really is. I can’t deny that Nick’s friend is attractive. Jared’s attention is flattering. Any woman would think so. But in a ballroom full of handsome men, I was aware of just one. The one I’ve been unable to resist from the start.
Lifting my hand to touch Nick’s face, I draw in a fortifying breath. “The only man I’m interested in is sitting next to me right now.”
“Is that so?” His tone is level, but that just tells me how on edge he truly is.
“Yes. Only you, Nick.”
That furious pulse in his cheek throbs against my fingertips as I softly caress his jaw. His eyes search mine in the darkness of the limousine. Outside, the city flashes by in strobes of bright light and color and a frenzy of street noise.
The moment feels tentative, charged with electricity, yet fragile. I want to ask him about the woman Jared mentioned. Kathryn. I want to know who she is and what she means to Nick. Or, rather, meant to him. Jared said she was an old friend. Practically family to both of them, he’d said. Obviously, that was no longer true for Nick.
Why? I want to know. It’s clear that she has no place in Nick’s life now, yet I feel a pang of jealousy kindle inside me. I feel a twinge of wariness too, because I’ve just witnessed Nick’s forbidding side firsthand. Margot’s warning about him slicing people out of his life when they get too close to him chases through my mind.
Is that what happened to Kathryn? Will I be next?
There’s a part of me that wants to know—needs to know—before I let myself tumble any deeper into a fantasy that won’t last . . . cannot last.
; I’m on the verge of asking him, but Nick’s fingers are working their magic on me. He slides his hand beneath my knee and gently guides my legs apart. Then he turns toward me on the seat, his heated gaze holding me captive as he skates his palm under my skirt and up my inner thigh.
“Come here,” he murmurs thickly, reaching out to grasp my nape with his free hand. He drags me against him, taking me in a fierce, consuming kiss while his other hand cups my sex.
His lips are greedy, his tongue demanding as it sweeps inside my mouth. He tastes of whisky and thinly held aggression and so much desire it staggers me. His touch intensifies between my legs, and I can’t hold back my moan when his fingers push aside my panties to touch my bare flesh. I’m drenched already, trembling with arousal and aching for him.
“Christ, your pussy is soft,” he rasps against my lips. “So fucking sweet, Avery.”
I feel a tug, followed by the sharp pop of rending lace and satin. He doesn’t ask for permission or forgiveness, just rips away my panties, then shoves my dress up above my hips to expose me to his hungry gaze.
I’m boneless now, utterly his to command. He pivots me on the long bench seat and stretches me out before him. In some distant part of my conscience, I’m aware of the driver just on the other side of the glass and of the city bustling on either side of the moving limousine. I’m aware of all the reasons I shouldn’t be with Dominic Baine. All the reasons I shouldn’t want this reckless passion we share.
But none of those things matter right now. Not in this space. Not in this moment, when he’s looking at me as if no other woman exists. As if I belong to him, body and soul, and he can’t wait to take what’s his.
“Damn, you are beautiful.”
His palms are hot on my naked inner thighs. They are firm and strong. He parts me wide, lifting my knee so that one leg is resting against the backrest of the bench seat, my other leg draped over the edge. His fingers trace my skin, from the arch of my foot strapped into my delicate black sandal to the apex of my thighs.
“I want you to come for me, Avery.”
I moan because I’m practically there already. Just the anticipation of his touch, of his mouth, of his cock buried inside me is enough to fire my nerve endings into a heated frenzy. He rubs the pad of his thumb over my clit and I arch at the contact as if touched by a live wire. Each erotic caress makes me quivery and I squirm, desperate for more. I gasp when he drives two fingers deep inside me, tiny spasms of sensation pulsing in my core as my body clenches around him, trying to hold him tight. Hungry for more.
He watches me writhe, looking devilish in his tuxedo and tie while his hand plays my sex with sinful skill. His face is taut, his mouth curved with satisfaction as he drives me toward the brink of madness.
He fucks me with his fingers, long strokes that plunge deep, stretching my walls. His thumb swirls over the taut pebble of my clit, slicking me with my own juices. I don’t even try to hold back my climax. It slams into me, splintering me on a sharp cry that I’m sure can’t be masked by the soft jazz playing in the car or the privacy glass.
“Oh, God . . . Nick!”
I curl up off the seat, reaching for him as the waves continue to pour over me. He catches me in his arms, kissing me fiercely. His strength never ceases to amaze me. In one smooth movement, he hoists me onto his lap and sits back against the seat, leaving me to straddle his thighs. I feel decadent and wild, my dress bunched around my waist, my nakedness spread across his fine trousers. My knees are bent on either side of him, my ass resting lightly on the lengths of my sandals’ heels.
Together, we attack his zipper and free his cock. I register Nick reaching into his pocket for a condom, but I’m too caught up in the feel of him in my hands to even pretend I have the capacity to think about protection. I stroke his length, swirling my hand around the thick stalk of his shaft with one hand, while my other gently lifts his balls out of his pants.