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Sexy Jerk(33)

By:Kim Karr


I purse my lips. "Depends."

"On what?"

"Why you're asking."

Nick laughs softly. "Always so sassy. I'm asking because I want to do something with you."

Surprised, I ask, "Aren't you picking up Max and going directly over to Jace's?"

He shakes his head no. "Scarlett is sick, so Jace had to cancel."

"Oh, I get it. I'm the backup plan."

"No, I had this idea in mind for tomorrow night, but since plans changed, I thought I'd move it up."



       
         
       
        

"Move what up?" I ask ruefully.

"A change in routine."

"Change in routine? What do you have in mind?" I ask huskily. The tone of my voice much more seductive than I had intended.

Nick raises a brow. "To be blunt-a big king-size bed."

I tilt my head in confusion.

"I was thinking the three of us could head to my place, order pizza, and watch a movie," he says.

I raise a brow. "Where does the big king-size bed come into play in that equation?" I tease.

"That would be you under me in my bed after Max passes out five minutes into a Disney movie."

"Oh," I smile.

He lifts my chin toward him. "What do you say?"

I shiver as our gazes meet and hold, but try to keep it light. "Sounds like fun. I'll run back to Fiona's and grab a bag for Max and I, and meet you there."

"I'll arrange for an Uber to pick you up."

"That's not necessary, I can drive."

"Tess."

I glare at him. "What?"

"It will be there in an hour," he insists, and I know arguing will get me nowhere."

"Fine."

"And grab enough stuff for two nights."

"You're awful presumptuous. After all, tomorrow night is my night off."

Nick traces his fingers around my lips. "I'm fairly certain after tonight, you'll want to stay for another night."

I close my laptop. "We'll see."

We'll see might be the words I tell him, but I want to scream . . . yes.

Hell . . . yes.





Tess

THE LAST TIME I put a lot of thought into what undergarments to wear, I was twenty-two years old.

Six years later, lacey bras and frilly panties aside, I no longer own any sexy lingerie, but I know who does.

After a quick shower, and way too long contemplating what to wear, I rummage through Fiona's drawers and find a number of pieces from her bridal shower with the tags still on them.

I know she won't mind.

We've shared everything but men since we were five.

In fact, she'd be tossing pieces at me right now if she were here. Well, maybe not if she knew I would be wearing the sexy number for Nick. I have no idea what she'll say about me hooking up with Ethan's jerky friend, as I always referred to him.

Nick and I have been careful not to flirt in front of Max, and to avoid talking to Ethan and Fiona at the same time in case they sense something. We're not sure how they'll feel about us hooking up while watching their son.

Hey, what they don't know won't hurt them. 

And Max is being very well taken care of.

The driver beeps and I quickly decide on the black one, toss it in my bag, and start to rush outside, quickly turning back to get the red one, just in case I change my mind.

It's dark and cold, but that doesn't keep the cars off the road. Traffic is a bitch and it takes more than thirty minutes to get to Nick's apartment building, if you could call it that.

The skyscraper looks more like luxury condominiums. Not only does the glass glimmer and reflect tiny stars down onto the Chicago River, but the sheer amount of lights surrounding the complex could brighten an entire block.

I'm surprised.

Not that I thought he'd live in a dump, I just didn't think he'd live in such a nice place. In New York, I lived with Ansel in a loft in SoHo. It was nice. Hip. Artsy. Trendy. Completely Ansel's style. This place is a completely different vibe. Completely Nick's style.

Grabbing my bag, I head inside. The lobby is magnificent with its white marble floors and cherry hardwood walls. I glance down at my phone before stopping at the security desk to see what floor Nick texted to me.

"You must be Miss Winters," the older man says.

I look up. "Yes."

"Mr. Carrington told me you'd be arriving and he asked me to send you right up."

"Oh, thank you."

"Please follow me."

"Okay," I smile.

He leads me to the furthest elevator bank, ushers me in, steps in himself, presses a button, and then steps back out.

"Oh, which way do I go when I exit the car?"

He looks confused.

"Never mind. I'll figure it out. Have a good night."