Annabelle

18

So many questions! I had so many about Nick and Lexi, I was surprised they didn’t overflow out of my eyes and mouth and ears, drowning anyone in the vicinity. Sadly, none of my questions were answered at dinner, because how could they be when I didn’t even know how to pose those questions without seeming intrusive? Instead we talked about sports, films, politics, weather, and how many paintings it would take to fill Nick’s barren house.

The lack of information was problematic, causing my fascination with Nick to become a borderline obsession. He and his sister had been estranged, and I had to know what had happened. Not my business, to be sure, but still, I had to know. Neither of them, however, were talking.

I knew Soph wouldn’t approve of my having dinner with Nick, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, right? Right. Besides, it wasn’t as if we were alone. Pity.

Jackson and Lexi arrived for dinner right on time. So frustrating. I had attempted to get there early, but only managed to show up on time as well. There was no opportunity for just the two of us to talk. Maddening. The meal was amazing. Lupita had really outdone herself with the food. Given that microwavable ramen had become my go-to dinner, her homemade guacamole with pomegranate seeds, chicken and cream cheese taquitos, and machaca beef with fresh tortillas and homemade salsa were to die for. We had margaritas on the side, but I stopped myself at two, not wanting to risk making an ass of myself.

I noted that Nick wasn’t using his wheelchair. In fact, it had been parked out of the room. He didn’t get up and move very often, preferring to sit on the couch after dinner, and I suspected it was all part of his effort not to let Lexi know that there was something wrong with him. While we enjoyed dessert, homemade flan, and coffee, and discussed the possible art for his walls, I realized I wanted, quite desperately, to be alone with him.

I wanted him to look at me the way he had that night, the one where he caught me in his arms and saved me from being crushed to death by the free weights. Yes, it had taken on that soft focus romantic glow in hindsight, erasing the details that my skirt had been ripped open and he’d been covered in sweat from his workout. Sue me.

He hadn’t looked at me in anything more than a perfunctory way ever since, his gaze friendly but distant. I wanted the intensity back. I wanted the zip and sizzle. I wanted him to notice me, thus, I stayed at two margaritas lest I do something desperate for his attention like strip down to my undies and cannonball into the pool. Impulse control not being my strength. So yay me for not doing that. Yet.

“You could go with some Arizona art,” Lexi said. “Something that pulls together your color scheme but evokes a certain feeling.”

Jackson gave her side-eye. “His color scheme?” He gestured to the room. “Black, gray, and white. That’s all we’ve got going on here.”

Lexi tapped her spoon to her lips as she considered. “Ansel Adams. An enormous print of his White House Ruin, Canyon de Chelly, would be amazing on the big wall. It’s Arizona, it’s historical, and you have the space. Back me up, Annabelle.”

“You can never go wrong with Ansel Adams,” I said. I stared at the big blank wall. “Unless, you want to bust out and have some color. There are so many amazing Arizona artists, like Jimmy Todd or Frederick Sommer. Or if you want a contemporary, how about Silent Soliloquy by Dorothy Fratt? She was an Arizona artist and I just love her work.”

Lexi gave me an approving grin. “You know your local artists.”

“I studied up before coming here,” I said. “I like to familiarize myself with the art scene in places before I visit.”

“Visit?” Jackson asked. “You’re not planning to stay then?”

I could feel Nick’s gaze on the side of my face. I wanted to see his expression, but I was afraid I’d lose my train of thought if my gaze was caught by his. It was clearly his superpower.

“I’m here for six months, well, more like five now,” I said. “And then we’ll see.”

“You’re going to make a decision at the height of the summer heat?” Lexi asked. “That’s a terrible idea. Any sane person would flee once the temperature hits one hundred and fifteen.”

“I heard it’s a dry heat,” I said.

All three of them laughed. I tried not to be offended.

“Sorry,” Nick said. He grinned at me. And there was that dimple! “It’s just that once you get past one hundred and ten degrees, does it really matter if it’s a dry heat? It’s hella hot and miserable.”

“Oh, goody,” I said.

“Don’t worry,” Lexi said. “Nicky has a pool. You jump in that and you’ll be just fine.”

“Are you planning to have a pool at the development?” Jackson asked her. She answered, but I wasn’t listening.

Instead, I turned and gave Nick a pointed look. He grinned at me, clearly not in the least repentant about banning me from the pool.

“There’s always room to negotiate, you know, like awarding visas to visiting cats,” he said. He looked amused. It charmed me silly but I fought it off.

“Is there?” I asked. “Because if it gets that hot here, we are most definitely going to have to adjust the rules. I will die—die!—if I don’t have a pool during that kind of heat.”

“Are you being overly dramatic in an attempt to win?”

“No,” I said. “I can assure you this is not hyperbole. Need I remind you, I am from New England. We can’t handle temperatures above ninety. Everyone freaks out and loads up on the iced Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. Then we’re all overcaffeinated and locked indoors, clutching our window AC units for dear life. Truly, it’s ridiculous.”

“Well, then,” he said. He pressed his lips together in an obvious attempt to not laugh. “We can’t have that. We’ll discuss.”

I gave him a sly look. “And put it in writing?”

“Of course,” he said.

I turned back to see Lexi yawning. She looked like she was fighting it off, but Jackson shook his head when he started to yawn, too.

“Stop that,” he said. Then he nudged her with an elbow, pushing her to her feet. “Come on, I’ll take you home before we both pass out.”

She looked like she’d argue but then another yawn slipped out. “All right. Morning does come early and since I’m going to have a crew tomorrow . . .” She glanced at Nick.

“Not just a crew,” he said. He stood and I rose with him. “The best crew.”

“Oh, Nicky.” Lexi stepped close and then, as if bracing herself for rejection, she threw her arms around him anyway.

I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Nick lifted his arms and put his hands on her upper arms as if he’d peel her off him. Instead, he slid his hands to her upper back and hugged her close. The look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe she was here and he was hugging her, about broke me. My throat got tight and my heart went sploosh, and I felt a suspicious pricking in my eyes as if the tear ducts were just firing up.

Nick cleared his throat and patted Lexi’s back. She released him with a watery smile of her own and then turned to Jackson. “Well, come on. Places to go. People to see.”

He exchanged a nod with Nick and followed her to the door. Before she disappeared, Lexi spun back around. “I’ll see you at your office tomorrow, Annabelle. Ten o’clock, okay?”

“Perfect,” I said.

“Just remember when you meet Sophie and Miguel Vasquez to leave my name out of it,” Nick said.

Lexi squinted. “You said that before, but you didn’t say why.”

“It’s for me,” I said. “Nick is trying to let me take the full credit for landing a huge account. Sophie and Miguel know he’s my landlord, so if they know that you’re his sister and that he’s paying for the work, then—”

“It looks like your landlord gave you the job instead of you earning it?” Lexi asked. Nick and I both nodded. “Well, just so we’re all clear, if your designs had been garbage, I wouldn’t have agreed to hire you even if it did mean losing Nicky’s support.”

I grinned at her. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Lexi nodded, cast one last look at her brother, smiled, and left.

I began to gather the dessert dishes from the coffee table. Nick started to help but I shook my head. “I’ve got it.”

He ignored me and followed me into the kitchen, carrying the remaining dishes and coffee mugs. We set them in the sink. When I would have started to rinse them, he reached across me and shut off the tap.

“I can do that later,” he said. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh, you don’t need to,” I said. What? What had just come out of my mouth? Why? Why was I telling him no? Hadn’t I wanted to be alone with him just a few minutes ago? Yes. But now that I was, I was actually nervous. So stupid.

“Probably not,” he said. “But I’m going to anyway.”

“Do you want your wheelchair?” I asked. “I can go get it.”

He stood still as if trying to decide. Then he shook his head. “No, I think I can do this.”

We strolled through the enormous house and stepped outside into the backyard. The scent of citrus blossoms was heavy in the night air. It was chilly and very quiet. The only sound was the soft bubbling of the hot tub. I almost asked if he wanted to go in with me, but I thought that might be pushing it.

We crossed his patio and followed the path along the line of trees that circled the pool until the path broke off to my house. My back door was open just a few inches. I had fed Sir before arriving for dinner and left the door open for him if he wanted to leave. I glanced at Nick to see if he was taking all this in. If he was, he didn’t show it.

I thought about Lexi and wondered how she’d react when she discovered that he’d been keeping his stroke and subsequent issues secret from her. It had been my experience that secrets didn’t like to be held. They were like wiggly toddlers that way, and the harder you held on to them, the more of a fuss they made until they were loose.

“Are you going to tell Lexi?” I asked him.

“Tell Lexi?” he asked.

“About your . . . issues.”

“Issues?” He stopped walking and turned to face me, forcing me to stop, too. “That’s a helluva euphemism for a stroke and the residual fallout.”

“I was trying to be delicate,” I said.

“No need, I’m not that fragile. Truthfully, I don’t have any plans to tell her anything,” he said.

“Why not?” I asked.

“It’s complicated.”

“Really? Seems to me you just need to ‘break it down to its simplest construct.’ ”

A slow smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “Very clever, using my own words back on me.”

I shrugged. “Just sharing some very wise advice.”

“The difference being you had a situation you wanted to change, and I don’t.”

“No?”

“No,” he said. He began walking again. “Lexi is only in Phoenix for this project, and then she’ll go back to the East Coast and on to her next job. I’m not going to bog her down with my stuff. She’s better off not getting too attached.”

“How do you figure?” I asked, falling into step beside him.

“Because before the stroke hit, I was on my way to being a supremely arrogant, narcissistic asshole,” he said. “And while the stroke was a reality check for me to change my life, it doesn’t mean I’m okay with being a burden to Lexi in its aftermath.”

“How are you a burden?” I asked. I was genuinely mystified.

He stopped again and stared at me. “Annabelle, you saw me. I went to save you from those falling weights and damn near got us both crushed.”

“You protected me,” I said. “And put yourself in harm’s way to do it.”

“You don’t understand. The doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong with me,” he said. Frustration made his tone sharp. “I’m fine one second and then everything goes sideways and my heart rate accelerates and I can’t breathe, and then my left side starts to go numb. It’s like there’s another stroke lingering beneath the surface just waiting for me to let my guard down.” He shook his head. “And no one can tell me why it keeps happening.”

“They’ll figure it out,” I said. I had a theory about what was happening. I’d seen this sort of thing before, with my sister, Chelsea, after our mother died, but I kept that to myself, for now.

“There’s no guarantee of that, but even if they do . . .” He paused. His gaze held mine, and he reached up with one hand to grab a stray curl that the evening breeze had tossed across my face. He rubbed it between his fingers as if absorbing its texture before he gently tucked it behind my ear. I held perfectly still. I wanted to press my cheek into his palm, but I didn’t.

“Even if they can fix it,” he continued, “there’s no guarantee that I won’t have another stroke tomorrow, next week, next year. Did you know that twenty-three percent of people who have a stroke have another? How could I let Lexi sign on for that? One second she has her long-lost brother back, and the next she has a big old useless bedridden, drooling potato for a sibling. I won’t do it. I won’t risk it.”

“Shouldn’t you tell her what’s going on and let her decide?” I asked.

“No, because I know what she’ll choose,” he said.

We reached my patio and he stopped on the path before it as if there were an invisible boundary he would not cross. To heck with that. He might succeed at keeping his sister at arm’s length, but I wasn’t going to let him do it to me. The awareness between us wasn’t going away. In fact, it was only getting worse with every second I spent in his company. I liked him. I really liked him.

He was interesting and complicated, smart and funny, and strong. Plus, I saw kindness in him. He was a man who’d been on top of the world and had it all crash down around him, but he survived. There was a strength in him he didn’t recognize in himself, but I did.

Of course, I couldn’t ignore the fact that he was as hot as a house on fire, but that wasn’t what made me respond to him. What really drew me to him was how he tried so hard to protect everyone around him from caring about him. As if he could push them away and save himself the heartbreak of caring for them in return if he just kept them at a distance. Ridiculous.

I saw how he joked around with Jackson. He pretended to be irritated by the big man, but I knew that if anyone crossed Jackson, Nick would destroy them. He had the same protectiveness toward Lupita and Juan. They were fiercely loyal to him as well. I knew the truth was that Nick Daire was a good man, even if he didn’t see it himself. As for his sister, Lexi, it was clear he’d never stopped looking out for her. It didn’t take any great powers of deductive reasoning to realize that the college scholarships she’d talked about at dinner, the ones that she didn’t recall applying for, hadn’t just appeared. They were from Nick.

“So it’s okay for you to help her but not for her to help you,” I said.

“I don’t need any help.”

“Really?” I asked. This was my moment. I knew it as surely as I knew my potential to crash and burn was at an all-time high. I didn’t care. My heart was pounding hard in my chest. Holy banana balls, I was about to make a move. “Seems to me, you could use an assist.”

He frowned. His eyes moved over my face as if he was trying to read my intent. “In what way?”

Moment of truth. I tossed my hair over my shoulder, because I’d picked up on the fact that he liked that. It was dark out and hard to see, but I was certain his pupils dilated just a little bit. Then I reached out and took one of his hands and put it on my hip. He didn’t move. In fact, I wasn’t sure he was even breathing.

I glanced up. His nostrils flared just the teensiest bit, and I wanted to do a fist pump in triumph, but I kept it cool. I didn’t want to scare him off. Ever so slowly, I took his other hand and wrapped it around me, moving into the circle of his arms, so that his palm sat on the base of my spine, right above the curve of my derriere.

Tipping my head up, I noticed our faces were now just inches apart. Then I licked my lips and said, “How’s this—helpful?”

“Only if your goal is to make me insane or to be certain I kiss you,” he said. His voice was deep and gruff and made me shiver in the best possible way.

“Definitely, the kiss—” That was all I got out before his lips were on mine, and I abruptly had no idea how words were even formed.

He pulled me in high and tight until my body was pressed against his. The hand on my hip slid up my side and he buried his fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck, holding me as if he was afraid I’d get away. I would have told him not a chance, but I was too undone by the sandalwood and vanilla scent of him that surrounded me, the press of his lips against mine as he traced the seam of my mouth with his tongue, deepening the kiss as I opened to him.

I slid my hands up his arms, pausing to squeeze his powerful shoulders, then I twined my arms around his neck, locking him in while I kissed him back with equal fervor. I broke the kiss, because oxygen, but after two gasps I was ready for more. Nick had other ideas, however, as he slid his lips down my neck, kissing the pulse point at the base of my throat before sliding back up to kiss me just behind the ear. Guh.

Stars went off in my vision, my core liquefied into a hot puddle of desire, and I was certain I was having a nuclear meltdown of epic proportions. I let out a low moan and then his mouth was back on mine, and he doubled down on the rampant lust between us, nipping my lower lip and then soothing it with his tongue. Mercy, this man could kiss.

“Impulsive,” he muttered, his lips against my skin. “Reckless woman.”

I dug my fingers into his hair, wanting him to feel how much I desired him and wanting him to suffer the same acute need I was feeling. If the man did not spend the night with me, I would not survive until morning. I was sure of it.

“Come inside,” I whispered in his ear.

His body went rigid and not just the obvious part pressed up against me. He let go of me, moving his hands to my upper arms as if he was going to push me away. I was not having it.

I ran my hands from his shoulders, down his sides to his waist. My fingers slid under the hem of his thermal shirt, and I reveled in the feel of his hot skin under my palms. He let out a hiss of breath as I traced his insanely defined pectorals, slowly lowering my hands to his abs. He froze so I went for the bold maneuver and slid my fingers over the front of his jeans.

“Fuck,” he cursed. He managed to make it a three-syllable word.

“Yes, please,” I whispered before gently biting his earlobe.

He pulled away from me, and for a moment I feared I’d been too aggressive or had gone too far. Nope. He yanked me back in and kissed me as if I were the last bit of air he’d breathe before going under water for good. I was happy to drown along beside him. Abruptly, he pulled back, breaking the kiss, and his hot gaze met mine.

“I don’t do long relationships,” he said. “Three months is my max. No exceptions.”

Just like Soph had said. I was glad she’d told me so I wasn’t caught off guard.

Every muscle in Nick’s body was taut, and I suspected he wanted to fight off this crazy attraction between us, but instead of denying it, he threw up obstacles, or more accurately, because it was him and he was all about control, he made rules. Like the length of a relationship could be determined at the start. I ducked my head so he couldn’t see me smile as I felt a surge of pleasure that I had pushed him to this tipping point.

“I’m not going to be in Phoenix for much longer than that,” I said. This was not a sure thing, but he didn’t need to know that.

“When it ends, it ends. No crying, no fits, no stalking, no weirdness,” he said.

“I’m sure you’ll try to control yourself.” I batted my lashes at him.

That surprised a laugh out of him. He looked at me as if I were already naked—so hot!—and then he asked, “Are you sure, reckless one, because there’s no turning back after tonight.”

“I’m sure.” I wasn’t but when was I ever sure of anything? I operated on instinct and intuition. All I knew, for certain, was that this man made me feel things no one ever had before, and I was damned if I was going to leave Phoenix and not indulge myself in him as if he were a rare top-shelf sipping tequila.

He nodded and spun me around. With his hands on my hips and him right behind me, we walked through the open door of my house. As soon as we stepped inside, Nick shut the door behind us and drew the seldom-used drapes closed. Then he pulled me back in and kissed me.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a promise of rumpled sheets, sweaty bodies, and orgasms, yes, multiple. I dug my fingers into his hair and held him still while I sipped at his mouth, slid my tongue inside, and then kissed him so deep, his only response was a groan and some muted swearing.

When we broke apart, we were both breathing heavily. I glanced at the couch and noted that Sir was curled up in his blanket, oblivious to the porn scene we were acting out right in front of him.

Nick spun me around again and nudged me toward the bedroom. As soon as he stepped in after me, he kicked the door shut with his foot. He backed me up to the bed. When the backs of my knees hit the mattress, I went down and Nick pounced. Lying full on top of me, he kissed me and kissed me and kissed me some more, fitting his mouth to mine and plundering me like a pirate seeking treasure. He didn’t stop until my ears were ringing, my lips were puffy, and my chin sported whisker burn. I didn’t care. I would have kissed him all night long if that was all he offered.

He cupped my cheek and ran his thumb over my lower lip. His eyes were gentle when he looked at me with tender affection and said, “You are a feast and I am a starving man. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said. My voice was breathy when I added, “I’m yours.”

A low hum was his only response, and then he was kissing me again. I’d told the truth. I was totally his. He could make love to me or suggest we play Scrabble. I did not care. I just wanted to be with him. There was something about him that called to me. As if he was a lonely voice, crying out in the distance, and I was trying to find him.

In unspoken agreement, we attacked each other’s clothes. My dress went one way, his shirt another. We paused to kick off our shoes, and they dropped to the floor with loud thuds. Then we peeled off our remaining clothes until we were both down to our skin. I hardly got a chance to look at him when he rolled me. Pressing his entire body the length of mine, he settled on top of me. His hands roamed over my curves with delicious abandon, and I could hardly process the sensations rocketing through me. I arched against him, feeling him lock into place exactly where I wanted him. My blood felt hot and sluggish in my veins. The need I felt was so sharp, it made me gasp.

“Easy, Goddess,” he said. “We have all night.”

Goddess? How was I supposed to resist that? I couldn’t. I rolled us so that I was on top. My hair formed a curtain, cocooning us in.

I was breathing as if I’d run a marathon. He was right. I needed to slow it down. Savor it, us, him. He stared up at me, his eyes intense but with a glint of humor. His lips curved up on one side so I leaned down and kissed the corner. His smile deepened and that wicked dimple appeared, taunting me. I kissed it and then his eyebrows, his nose, the line of his jaw. I felt his body move beneath mine, and I realized he was laughing. I pulled back to admire him. I loved it when he laughed. I suspected he hadn’t laughed near enough in life. He took the opportunity to roll us again, so that I was on the bottom.

“You’re a playful one, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Me?” I blinked innocently. Then I pinched his side. He yelped and laughed again.

“Yes, you,” he said. He caught my hands in his, laced our fingers, and held them by my head. Then he began to kiss his way down my body.

“Reckless,” he murmured. He drew a nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, nipping the tip, making me grunt, and then soothing the sting with his tongue. My eyesight went fuzzy. He repeated the process with my other breast, making me hiss.

“Impulsive,” he whispered. He kissed his way down my belly, swirling his tongue around my belly button. He chuckled when I squirmed and giggled. I tried to pull my hands free to block him, but he wasn’t interested in tickle torture. No, he was focused on another goal entirely.

Not letting go, he pulled my hands down so that they were beside my hips, his fingers still laced with mine. The soft light in my bedroom illuminated the planes of his face, and I was again caught breathless by how incredibly handsome he was. His gaze met mine, and it was ripe with intent. He was the predator, and I was the prey, and I was happy to be so.

He released my hands and turned them so that my palms were facing down. He curled my fingers around the bedsheets, indicating that I should hang on, then he moved my thighs wider apart as he settled in.

“Goddess,” he hummed into my most personal private space before he put his mouth on me. It was everything. He used his lips, teeth, and tongue in a sensual assault that had me arching my back and begging for something that sparkled just out of reach.

“Please, I need—” I stopped, unable to form a fully coherent sentence.

“Let it come, Annabelle,” he demanded.

“What about you?” I asked. I felt myself going under but clawed my way back. It didn’t seem right. I was the initiator; I should be making him fall apart first.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “We have all night.” Then he put his mouth on me again and wooed me with an undeniable skill. The feeling was so exquisite; I couldn’t fight off the ripples of pleasure that started low and deep and spread through my entire body from my toes to my hair in delicious wave after wave. I closed my eyes and rode out each one until, satisfied, Nick planted one last kiss on me and slid back up my body, settling his hips in the cradle of my legs.

He was watching me with a self-congratulatory grin, and I would have balked but, really, what would be the point? The man had wrecked me, positively wrecked me, and he knew it.

I looped my arms about his neck and pulled him down so I could look him in the eye. Then I kissed him, long and lingering. When I ended the kiss, I pressed my forehead to his and asked, “Can an orgasm make you stupid?”

He chuckled low and deep, pressing his face against the side of my neck. Feelings were bubbling up inside of me, and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, holding him close while hiding my face. I felt a tear prick the corner of my eye, hot and wet and full of all the emotions I was feeling but couldn’t say. It wanted to spill, but I blinked it back. He’d said no crying at the end, but I believed it would be a deal breaker even now.

“I’ve never experienced that symptom,” he said. “But I’d be willing to give it a go, so I could weigh in with some empirical evidence.”

This time, I laughed. I rolled out of his arms and opened the top drawer of my nightstand. A girl should always be prepared. I grabbed a condom out of the box and tossed it over my shoulder. He caught it in midair. The grin he sent me was positively wicked, and I felt an answering thrum in my core. Oh, this man.

He made quick work of putting on protection and then he was rolling me back under him. I could sense he was looking for a signal from me that I was ready. I didn’t know how to wave him in any clearer than to wrap my legs around his waist and decisively invite him in. He looked down at me in surprise and I grinned. He sucked in a breath.

“Definitely a goddess,” he growled and then slid into me, pushing against the muscles that were still swollen and flushed. The pressure felt glorious, and I let out a gasp and arched into the feeling of him, filling me. I readied myself for a wild ride with him setting us in motion. There was none, however. Instead, he held himself perfectly still as if he was afraid to move.

“Nick?” I whispered. He was so still, I was afraid he’d hurt himself.

“Sorry, I just . . . I can’t breathe,” he said. He shook out his left hand as if trying to get the feeling back in his fingers. “I just . . . damn it . . . I don’t know if I can—”

I could hear the anxiety in his voice. I knew that if Nick bailed on me now, I would likely never get him naked again. Also, it would become one more obstacle on his path to recovery.

Obviously, I wasn’t a doctor, so I hesitated to say what I suspected, but I genuinely believed that the symptoms Nick was exhibiting weren’t precursors to another stroke but rather he had a case of severe anxiety manifesting in panic attacks.

I’d seen it before. Several times in the months following my mother’s death, my sister, Chelsea, had been convinced that she was having a heart attack. After several doctor’s visits, including a few trips to the emergency room, we discovered she was having panic attacks.

“How can I help?” I asked. I ran my hand up and down his spine, hoping to soothe him.

He heaved a deep breath. He pulled back to look at me. His hazel eyes practically glowed with unsatisfied lust. He looked like a man standing at the edge of a cliff, wanting to jump but terrified of what was in the deep dark water below. Understanding hit me with the precision of a hammer.

“This is your first time since . . .” I trailed off, not wanting to kill the mood by using the s word.

“Yeah,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m trying to get my bearings.”

I smiled. He was trying so hard to keep his cool. I leaned up and kissed him quick.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Let’s just breathe together and see what happens. Come here.”

We stayed entwined, but I pulled him down so his weight settled against me. I looped my arms about his neck, holding him close, and Nick pressed his forehead against mine. Together, we began to breathe. I had done breathing exercises with Chelsea, so I knew to inhale for eight, hold it for four, and then exhale for eight. Nick matched his breathing to mine, and I felt the tension ease out of his body. He settled in against me, his nose pressed against my neck, his hands cradling me gently as if I was the most precious thing in the world to him.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. Time ceased to mean anything. My entire world became him, just him.

When he pulled away, his face was clouded with a feeling I knew all too well. Shame. I had suffered bouts of it after both of my divorces, feeling like something was wrong with me. That I was defective. I could see the same self-loathing in his eyes right now. I couldn’t let him feel that way. Not about this. Not about me. Not about us.

Before he could get away, I dug my fingers into his hair and kissed him. Then I rolled him, so he was on the bottom and I was on top.

“What if you just relax and I do all the heavy lifting?” I asked.

He looked uncertain but his gaze was all heat. “Well, I can’t argue with the view.”

There was something incredibly powerful about being the one in control, much like he had been with me before, and I reveled in it. I splayed my hands on his chest and I made love to him as sweetly and as gently as I could until I noticed a sheen of sweat on his brow and his teeth were gritted.

“How are you feeling now?” I asked.

“Like I’m about to die the sweetest of deaths,” he said. “Totally worth it.”

He sat up and pulled me in tight, then he put one hand on my lower back while the other slipped in between us and with his thumb he caressed me in an insistent circular motion that made everything zero in on that pressure point. I lost my sense of rhythm, my powers of speech, and my balance.

Nick took full advantage and lowered me to the bed, regaining the top position. He took over, lifting one of my legs and pushing in deeper and deeper still. In a matter of thrusts, we were both lost to the bliss that rocked through us from the place where we were joined. Like a shout into the void, it echoed on and on and on.

Nick rolled onto his side and pulled me up against him, locking me in place with his arms, while he placed kisses on my hair. This time, I was certain I would never be able to string a full sentence together again. Neither of us spoke for a long while.

“So that’s a yes,” he said.

“Yes, what?” I murmured, still wrecked.

“The evidence clearly suggests an orgasm can make you stupid as fuck,” he said. He ran a hand over his face. “What’s my name? Where do I live?”

I laughed out loud, delighted that he felt the same way I did. He laughed, too, and in that moment I felt as if we’d achieved a perfect connection. Impulsive and reckless, I might be, but I believed he was worth it.