The Bachelor Contract(37)

He could feel the minute she gave him all she had. He would remember the feel of her climax for the rest of his lonely, miserable life.

An explosion of need followed by an uncontrollable surge of lust that slammed into him as he filled her to the hilt one last time and followed her release.

It was war.

Her surrender. His taking. Their death.

He rolled over onto his back, gasping for breath, as she slowly rose to a sitting position on the bed.

She was leaving? Like hell. With a grunt, he tugged her down against his chest, her cheek pressed against his skin.

“Stay.” His voice cracked.

She hesitated and then released a soft sigh. “Okay.”

Brant closed his eyes as his throat swelled with emotion. After all, the demons could be kept away for only so long. And he knew the minute he opened his eyes again—they would be back, reminding him of what he’d done, what he’d destroyed.

And this time—he would only have himself to blame.

Better that way. It would be better.

Her soft, even breathing filled the night.

Good-bye.

He was saying it to the old Brant. Just as much as he was saying it to her.

And they lived happily ever after. Except they didn’t.

Wrong story. Wrong lives.

I’ve lost everything.





Chapter Sixteen



Nikki’s eyes jerked open as a crack of sunlight pierced through the air.

No. She’d fallen asleep. In his bed.

And for a few minutes, it felt right. So she pretended. Pretended he wasn’t an angry jackass. Pretended it wasn’t a one-night stand. Pretended that she was able to take from him what he’d never given—a proper good-bye.

But she’d never given him a chance to say good-bye before, had she? She was complicit in this pain, this sorrow that was buried deep in her heart.

Ask me to stay, he’d begged with tears in his eyes. Ask me!

She’d ignored him. She was hurting too much. And he’d done everything in his power to make it better.

But when things got worse—so much worse—and she needed him the most, needed the rescue, he was gone. Just. Gone.

She breathed in the pillow; his scent lingered. This was a mistake, a huge mistake, because there was no coming back from this.

From the feel of him inside her. The feel of them together.

She had to get out. Before her heart cracked all the way open.

Clutching the cool sheets between her hands, she bit down on her lip and tried to think of what to do. First, she had to locate her clothes.

Right, and how was she supposed to do that? With a gulp she slowly sat up in bed and winced when Brant let out a groan. The weight of the bed shifted, and she froze as her entire body went on high alert.

Tears burned the backs of her eyes. She was an idiot. A complete idiot.

What? Did she really think it would be easy? Sleeping with the man who held her heart? Her soul? Things didn’t look better in the morning, and she sure as hell didn’t feel better, not for lack of trying on his part.

“Wake up.” Brant’s lips grazed her neck as he pressed into her from behind. “Spread your legs.”

She woke up, all right. And came apart all over again, each orgasm shaking her body more intensely than before, until she had to fight to keep her tears at bay.

Not just tears of pleasure. Tears of absolute searing pain. Because it wasn’t real. Maybe it never was.

Maybe they just had been too disillusioned, too young. The world had been theirs—until the world turned on them, and they turned on each other. It was so much easier blaming someone else than taking responsibility for your own pain.

She pressed a hand to her suddenly too-tight chest as his words washed over her.

“I’m not done yet,” he growled hoarsely as he flipped her onto her back. “Hold on.” He grabbed her feet and pulled her down the mattress. Her skin slid against the expensive sheets as she held on to his biceps for dear life, closing her eyes against the darkness that was suddenly not as dark.

He pulled her under. Sank into her deep.

“Me either,” she whispered back, clawing at his body. “I’m not done yet.”

He’d marked her. And she’d let him. And then she held on to him as he drifted back to sleep.

Be brave. No tears.

Clothes. She needed to get her clothes on, find some coffee, and try to escape without Brant or Cole finding out.

She gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth.

Not only had Cole completely abandoned her after one dance, but she hadn’t even told him where she was going. He would be worried. Right?

Her purse had to be somewhere in that stupid hotel room, right? Think, Nik, think.

They’d walked in. She’d dropped her dress to the floor as well as her purse because, well, his hands had been all over her, and she’d been so desperate for him she hadn’t thought past getting her clothes off.