"Sorry," she mumbled, trying to move away.
He trapped her hand against his chest. "No need to apologize."
God, they were so close. Sexy energy swirled and crackled around them, scorching the last working neurons and any common sense she had left.
He caressed her arm, and she let him. Without breaking eye contact, he closed the gap between their mouths very slowly, giving her time to rebuff him, but she was enthralled.
For such a hard man, his lips were so soft. He kissed her gently, coaxing her to open for him, licking at the seam of her mouth.
"You need to leave now," he whispered. When she didn't move, he continued, "Aren't you scared of me? You should be."
That's what he'd said in the nightmare. But she was so damn tired of being afraid, of letting her brain drag her into that bottomless pit of despair and fear. She wanted to regain control of her life, of her body, and what her body wanted now was him. She wanted him. Like hell would she let her hang-ups cheat her of this. She had allowed her mind to play tricks on her for far too long.
"No."
"No to what?" he asked.
"No, I'm not afraid, and no, I'm not leaving."
Careful not to touch his side, she straddled him, needing more leverage.
At the contact with his groin, Nico groaned, deepening the kiss, his incipient beard abrading Paige's skin.
God, this felt so good. Until he made some sudden move that pulled at his side, and he couldn't stifle the wince.
That brought her back to reality, and appalled at her behavior, she lifted her hips off him immediately. "Sorry." She would have unstraddled him, or so she liked to believe, but his hands kept her thighs in place. Cupping his face, she whispered, "You are not up for this. I better let you rest."
"Actually, I am very much up for this," he said, his smile intoxicating.
True. She could still feel his erection against her open folds, pressing against her throbbing clit. "You know what I mean. You're injured, and I never heard of Florence Nightingale molesting her patients."
He chuckled softly, laugh lines appearing around his smoldering eyes. "Fuck Florence Nightingale. I want you."
He didn't move, leaving the decision to her.
She also wanted him, but did she have the gall to take him?
Chapter Four
Nico stared at her for what seemed like a fucking eternity, wanting her so badly he couldn't breathe yet unwilling to push the issue. Shot, drugged, stabbed, stitched, it didn't matter. At the moment all he could think of was being inside the gorgeous woman in front of him, the taste of her mouth still fresh in his mind. The hot embrace of her pussy too.
Her eyes were big, and she kept sucking the piercing on the left side of her bottom lip. She was unsure. Interested, no doubt about it; she'd made that perfectly clear by not running for the hills. Plus her body was humming and her breath was ragged. But she was unsure nevertheless. And who could blame her, really? He had the finesse of a bull in a china shop.
His cock was so hard, the bastard was about to detach itself and jump her, but he reined it in and waited for her to make up her mind. Like he had the first time they met, actually.
Something must have tilted the scales in his favor, because resolution and mischief flashed on her face. She licked his lips and, little by little, sat back down on his lap.
She was going to put him out of his misery. Thank fucking God.
"I've wanted you for a long time. If I'd known all I had to do was get shot, I'd have pulled a gun on myself that night at the restaurant."
"I'm sooo going to regret this," she whispered, slowly gliding against his shaft.
Nico sucked the piercing she'd been playing with, pulling at her plush lip and then releasing it, soothing the spot with his tongue. "No, you won't, Goth girl."
Sex he understood and could navigate with his eyes closed. He could make a woman come again and again. How to keep that woman satisfied outside the bedroom was another matter altogether. Not that he'd put too much effort into keeping anyone in particular. Too much work, too little reward.
Then again, that was not why they were here.
He moved one hand to cup her sweet ass, relishing the way she bore down on him, how she shuddered at the deeper contact.
Man, he couldn't wait to have her.
He reached for her neck to encircle it and take control of her head too, but she stiffened and pushed his hand away.
"No," she said, putting distance between them. "Sex has to be on my terms. I have some hard limits."
That got his attention. "I'm listening."
"No pinning me down. No crowding me."
"Can I touch you?" Because that was what he'd been trying to do when she froze.
Her smirk was so damn sexy. "Oh, you better. Just don't grab my neck or my throat, and we'll be fine."