Charming as Puck(71)
“Hockey strategy,” I tell her.
She frowns. “Ares’s hockey strategy is win.”
“He was giving me more complex advice.”
He nods, clearly sucking in a grin. “Win big.”
Felicity smiles at him, and that. That smile. That you’re my world smile. The I love you smile. That I know your secrets smile.
Do I even have it in me to give all of that to Kami?
Dad stops behind Felicity, larger than life even in his late sixties, his hair grayer than brown, the lines in his face getting deeper every day. He gives me a strangled sort of look. “I’m supposed to talk to you about where babies come from. Your mother says you were doing it wrong.”
Felicity has a sudden coughing fit that has Ares off his feet and across the room making sure the baby’s okay before I can finish thinking fuck.
“I told her she should’ve given you a few more minutes,” Dad adds. He clears his throat. “So the shed should be free tonight.”
Felicity’s leaning against the wall, laughing so hard she’s crying. Loki’s gripping her around the head and patting her hair, his eyes huge and terrified, like female tears scare the shit out of him.
Ares’s whole body is vibrating with silent laughter.
Dad clears his throat again and nods to me. “So, practice good. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.”
I grab my phone and text my real estate agent.
Because I am moving out today.
And I’m taking my fucking cow with me.
Thirty-Seven
Kami
It’s been four days since I’ve seen Nick. When my dogs explode in barks of joy just after lunch Sunday, I dash past the boxes still littering my lower level to squeeze around and open the door.
He grins at me, and every question I’ve had the last four days about if I’m crazy for wanting to be with him or if he’ll be mad about the arrangements I’m making for Sugarbear fades away. I don’t know if he’s serious that we’re going to a Halloween party later, or if he actually has secret plans to whisk me away somewhere so we can just enjoy each other’s bodies, but I don’t care.
So long as whatever we do, we’re together, I’m in.
“I missed that smile,” he says, and then he’s stepping into my house, wrapping his arms around me, and kissing me like I’m his missing piece.
I barely notice Dixie jumping on us or Tiger howling. Nick lifts my ass, I wrap my legs around him, settling my center over that thick bulge in his jeans, and it’s not until he turns and six boxes tumble onto us that I remember what I meant to tell him as soon as he got here.
He steadies us both before we fall, which is good, because I’m too intent on trying to get his attention to realize he’s still holding me up, and I grip him by the cheeks.
“No more presents,” I say sternly.
Or try to.
My gaze collides with those heated, amused green eyes, and I’ve barely made it into the second syllable of chastising him before I’m smiling back.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he says.
I’m stroking his lips with my thumbs because I have to. “No more presents,” I whisper again.
“You didn’t like the Nick dolls? Oh, shit. Wait. Sorry. That’s tomorrow.”
My eyes are so wide my vision is rattling and going out of focus. “You. Did. Not.”
He finds the wall and gently cradles me against it, a laugh rumbling out of him while he buries his head in the crook of my neck. “I love the way you smell,” he murmurs, his breath teasing my skin.
“Nick. Tell me you didn’t—oh, god, yes, there.”
I don’t know if he always knows just how to nibble on my neck right, or if he could touch, stroke, lick, or bite me anywhere on my body and make me instantly hot and wet because it’s Nick, but his lips and teeth and tongue are working down to the low collar on my light sweater, and thinking is suddenly completely unnecessary.
“I love the way you taste.” His words vibrate against my skin, and I clamp my legs harder around him.
I can’t help myself.
He’s holding me against the wall with his body, and his fingers trail under the curve of my ass, sending waves of delicious goosebumps over my skin. My breath catches, and I tilt my hips while he strokes my thighs, still suckling on my neck.
“You like?” he asks.
“Always.”
“Here?” He teases my ass again, sparks race from my cheeks to my heels, my clit throbs, and I rub my core against his hard cock to relieve some of the pressure.
Except all that rubbing Nick’s cock ever does is make me want him more.
“Upstairs,” I gasp.
“Now,” he agrees. He palms my ass again, turns, and three more boxes topple over.
“Fuck,” he mutters, but I lean in to bite his neck, and before he can stop to think about the boxes, he’s carrying me up the stairs two at a time.
I land in the center of my bed, and he stops just long enough to strip out of his Thrusters hoodie, toss his wallet on the simple oak nightstand, and shuck his jeans before he’s crawling up the bed to join me.
“You’re overdressed,” he informs me as I reach for the thick length dangling between his legs.