Every Wrong Reason(79)

I jumped out of the car, too nervous to hear him tell me no. I fumbled for the keys in my pocket and exhaled a whoosh of breath when I heard the car shut off and his door open and shut.

My fingers were still trying to work the keys in the lock when his body heat warmed my back and his hand settled low on my hip. His other hand covered mine with the keys and made them work for me, shoving the key into the lock and turning it.

We stumbled into the dark house, my feet causing the problems when they tripped on the rug. Nick caught me by squeezing my waist, yanking me back against his chest. My heart kicked into a gallop and my breath hitched in my chest.

His palm slid forward and splayed over my stomach, pressing hotly even through the layers of my jacket and long-sleeve tee beneath.

I could feel the hammering of his heart against my back, his ragged breath as it flowed in and out of him unevenly.

His head dipped until I felt his lips against my neck. “Kate,” he whispered and I shivered from the tickle of his mouth.

There was a pause between us as if the world stopped turning and time froze. I took in a breath and held it while I waited… waited for him to do something, to not do something, to turn around and escape.

That waited pause lasted an eternity. My fingers tingled from the fierce silence, the utter stillness. I thought I would die from anticipation.

Then everything burst into motion at once.

The keys jingled as he ripped them from the deadbolt and threw them on the ground. He slammed the door next, shaking the walls with his intention. I stood motionless, too afraid to move, too much of a coward to take what I wanted.

In the end, I didn’t need to take anything. Nick did the taking for the both of us.

His hand wrapped around my bicep and turned me to face him. My eyes were adjusting to the dark, but I didn’t get a chance to take him in before his mouth descended on mine, consuming me with his dizzying kiss.

His mouth moved against mine with a hunger that made me weak. I responded immediately, as desperate and greedy for him as he was for me.

He tasted me with his tongue, his teeth, his entire body. Everything about this kiss was designed to bring me to my knees with the weakness I still had for this man… the weakness I would always have for him.

His fingers fumbled with the zipper on my jacket, desperate to tear it off. I couldn’t form rational, cognizant thoughts through my haze of lust and exhausted emotions. I couldn’t do anything but feel and touch and give Nick exactly what he wanted.

But I also knew I wanted this.

Him.

I wanted him.

It had been so long. It had been too long.

Despite our separation, my body was used to having this man whenever I wanted. There was a sharp familiarity between us, an aching intimacy that could not be denied. I knew every angle of this man; I knew how his hipbones felt in my hands, the press of his naked thighs against the inside of mine. I could close my eyes and conjure him in seven years of intimate nights, lust in his eyes and perfect knowledge in his hands… in his body.

I couldn’t say no to this.

I couldn’t deny him tonight.

I needed him too much.

He succeeded with the zipper, growling in victory. He pushed it off my shoulders, turning it inside out in his fury to get it off me. Butterflies erupted in my stomach, flapping their huge wings with ravenous anticipation.

He kicked my jacket out of the way as he pushed me back against the door. I hit it with a thud, clutching his shirt for support.

He was too impatient for that. He didn’t care if I was settled or not. And I loved it. I loved his greedy hurry… his intense need.

“This,” he rasped, tugging at my shirt.

I helped him this time. We yanked it off together. My fingers went to the hem of his t-shirt. “This,” I mimicked. He ripped it off with one hand.

We collided again, both of us frantic to feel the other. My body pressed into his naked chest and I moaned from the feel of it. My arms wound around his neck and I plunged my fingers into the soft tendrils of hair at his nape.

“Nick, I can’t stop,” I whimpered.

“Don’t,” he ordered coarsely. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare f*cking stop.” But then he did.

He pulled back and stared down at me. Even in the darkness, I could see the hunger in his eyes. He looked ready to consume me, to pull me completely into his body until we were one without question. Until I could never separate myself from him again.

I tilted my chin, knowing he would meet me, knowing he couldn’t help himself. Except he didn’t. I tugged on his neck, hoping to bring his mouth to mine, but he kept his distance.

“No.” I sucked in a breath as disappointment ripped through me. I abruptly wanted to cry. But then he said, “Not like this. Not here again.”

In the next second, he swept me into his arms, cradling me against him. I let out a squeak of surprise, grabbing for his neck again as he turned suddenly and headed for the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“Bed,” he grunted as he took the stairs two at a time. “Our bed.”

My eyes bulged. I didn’t know what to think about that. I felt like I should protest. Hot sex in our entryway, against the wall, that was one thing. We’d done that already. There hadn’t been any consequences.

Er, not many anyway.

But the bed. Our bed? That meant something different… something more.