So as Nick turns down the path toward my class, I squeeze his hand. “I . . . I don’t think I want to go to class today, Nick. I want to skip. Will you take me home?”
The dark-eyed look he gives me is full of relief, and I know I’ve chosen the right thing. At home, Nick can protect me. At home, Nick can devour me with hands and eyes to his heart’s content, until he feels settled again. And home is where we need to be. So I feign a little more fear than I actually have and give him my most helpless look. “You don’t mind, do you, Nick?”
“Nyet,” he breathes, and pulls me close for a quick kiss. “Anything for you, kotehok.”
I give Christine an apologetic look even as Nick pulls me away. “Will you be okay?”
She nods, and starts to say something, but Nick’s dragging me away so fast that I don’t catch it. All I can do is wave as we head to the student parking lot and get into our bland sedan, and Nick drives like a bat out of hell for our apartment.
I watch him, my brain in a state of calm. Whenever my father got agitated, I would distract him by changing his focus. My father’s panic was driven by the outside world. Whenever he would get too manic, too edgy, I’d do something small to set him off. Maybe I’d drop a plate at dinner. Maybe I’d burn the soup. Maybe I’d wear a bit of eye shadow. My father would lose his mind with anger and erupt, and it was always bad for a day or so, but then he’d decompress and he’d be better once his focus had changed from the outside world to me.
I can do the same for Nick.
When we get to the apartment building, Nick practically slams into our parking space. Then, we get out of the car and he’s dragging me by the hand up to our apartment. Once we’re there, he locks the door and immediately heads to the spare bedroom, the only room that overlooks the street. With his finger, he nudges the blinds open just a crack and surveys the road below.
This is a side of Nick I don’t often see—the hit man. Not that he’s not a hit man every day of his life, but I don’t see the paranoia, the watchfulness, the predatory gleam in his eyes. His gun is out now, in one hand as the other continues to hold the blinds, his gaze scanning the streets. Always scanning.
Wanting to be ready to protect me.
I shrug off my coat and hang it on the hook by the door, then remove my gloves and shoes. I know what I need to do to get him back to the right state of mind. With my father, it was a necessary evil to do something to anger him and make him snap.
With Nick, there is no evil. There’s no anger, and there’s certainly no duty involved. “Kolya,” I call. “Come away from the window.”
The diminutive of his name gets his attention. “If someone has followed us home,” he begins.
“They have not,” I tell him. I unzip my corduroy jeans and drop them to the carpet. “Come. I’m sweaty and want a shower. Come with me?”
His gaze is on my legs, and I have his attention now. I continue stripping off my clothing and wander toward the bathroom, as if this were a normal day and Nick is not close to freaking out on me. The key is that I have to be normal, and it won’t seem odd to Nick that his shy Daisy is going to maul him midday. I’m definitely planning a mauling.
By the time I start the shower, Nick has followed me. The gun is placed on the bathroom counter, and I’m fully nude at this point. I turn to Nick and begin to loosen his clothing, unbuttoning his jacket and removing his scarf. It’s always like unwrapping a present when I get to undress Nick, and I’m never tired of his beautiful, incredible body. By the time I get down to skin, Nick’s concentration is on me and he’s erect under his boxers.
I smile at him and tug the waistband of his boxers down. Then, in the steamy bathroom, I kneel on the rug before Nick and take him in my mouth. His hard length caresses my tongue a moment before his fingers fist in my dark hair.
“Do you distract me, my Daisy?” he murmurs.
I only give him a sultry smile and lick the head of his cock in answer.
His eyes flare with lust as I gaze up at him. “Da, I think you do,” he breathes. “I should ask why I warrant such a distraction, but I find I cannot think when you put your glorious mouth on me.”
“No distraction,” I say sweetly. “I just want your mind here with me, like the rest of you is.” My hand curls around the base of his cock and I give him a quick stroke.
“Lick your palm,” he tells me in a hoarse voice. “Make it wet from your mouth. Then stroke me again.”
I feel a little silly slobbering on my hand, but the intensity in Nick’s gaze takes away any shyness I feel. I get my palm good and wet, then wrap it around his cock again, and tug once more. The aching groan that escapes him fascinates me. Did I think it was silly? Not any longer. Now I want to slide my mouth all over him, wet him down, and jerk him with my fist so he will make that sound again. I drag lips and tongue over his sensitive skin, trying to keep him wet so I can continue to pump him with my tight hand, but it’s a losing battle.