Wrong (A Bad Boy Romance)(16)

Still, I have to remember who he is and who he works for. “What’s in it for you?” I ask him. Because there’s no way he’s offering to help me just out of the kindness of his heart.

He chuckles. “Nothing for now.” Then he hesitates, and his hands stroke over my shoulders. “Okay, not necessarily nothing. For now, I just want you to come with me. Stay at my house. And then maybe we’ll talk about finishing what we started back at the bakery.”

Of course. There’s always some bargain to be made. With Sal I traded myself for my bakery. Nick wants me in exchange for protection. It’s wrong, and I know it, but at the same time something about Nick feels different than Sal. I don’t feel dirty when Nick touches me. Even after what he just said, I don’t feel like he wants to use me. Maybe I’m kidding myself.

But then he lowers his head, and his lips brush against mine. I lean toward him with a soft moan that I can’t help.

“You deserve better than him,” Nick murmurs against my mouth. “So much better.”

I press my mouth against his, wanting to be closer. The panic is starting to leave me. “I probably deserve better than you, too,” I mutter.

He chuckles. “No doubt.” But then he drags me close up against him and kisses me hard, his mouth pressing hard into mine. His tongue moves between my lips, touches my tongue, dances with it. I open wider, letting him in.

It’s like the kiss from before, at the bakery, but different. He’s a bit more reserved, like he’s trying to be gentler, or persuasive, rather than just doing his best to slake a thirst. I don’t mind either way. He tastes good to me. Like something I need.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

He reaches up and strokes my hair away from my face. I can’t be beautiful—not at the moment, anyway. I’ve been crying my heart out for, God—fifteen minutes? Thirty? There’s no way I’m not streaky and swollen. Yet he seems to mean what he said.

His mouth moves away from mine, his lips walking up the side of my face to my ear, where he nibbles a moment, nipping the curve of my ear all around the row of earrings. Then he draws the lobe between his lips, lets it go. One of his hands lowers, cupping my breast, teasing my nipple through my dress. I let out another involuntary gasp. He’s pressing closer to me, pinning me against the back wall of the storeroom. I let him. Right now I don’t want to be anywhere else. God knows I don’t want to be with Sal. And while I’ve still got some doubts about Nick’s motives, I figure anything is better than going back home.

God, I hope I’m right.

I push the thoughts out of my head—all of them, leaving just a blank space behind. Right now I only want to feel.

Nick is giving me every opportunity to do just that. While one hand continues to tease my breast, the other moves down, cupping me between my legs. After a moment his fingers start to walk against my thigh, inching my skirt up until he can move his hand under it. Then his fingers are right up against my panties.

“You’re so hot,” he mutters, fingers questing. He kisses me again while he explores between my legs, testing me through the cotton of my panties then sliding one finger under the edge and into the hot wetness beneath. A finger slides inside, and I jerk with the shock of it.

Two fingers inside, then he’s pressing the heel of his hand against my mound, and I start grinding against it.

Yeah, I’m humping his hand, and I don’t even care. It feels good. It’s something I’m doing on my own, just because I want to. No matter what Nick’s ulterior motives might be, he has yet to do anything I didn’t want him to do. In my world, that goes a long way, and how sad is that, really?

At the moment it doesn’t matter. I keep rocking on his hand, his fingers driving inside me, the heel of his hand rubbing against my clit with each wavelike movement of my hips. Heat builds between my legs. He kisses me, taking my mouth hard, and then bites down the side of my neck. His teeth dig into my shoulder, and suddenly I tense, shudder, and I can feel wetness sliding along his fingers. He laughs against my skin, his teeth still tight. Some perverse part of me hopes he’s left a mark.

“Nick,” I breathe when I start to slide down from the climax. I reach down between his legs, feeling the hard length of his erection, but he tips his hips back.

“No,” he says. “It’s okay. Later.”

I look into his face, barely able to catch the glitter of his eyes. “Later?”

“Yeah.” Reaching down, he lifts the hand I’ve got curled around him. It’s my left hand. He kisses my palm, then he takes my ring finger into his mouth. His teeth nip down the full length, until they close right behind Sal’s engagement ring. Then he slides back, and I realize he’s keeping the ring behind his teeth.