Lead Me Home (Fight for Me #3)(88)

Nikki took the baby, a soft sound leaving her mouth as she shifted the tiny thing and set her against her chest. The little girl’s head turned to the side, still sleeping, face scrunched up as she snuggled against Nikki’s warmth.

Nikki bounced her.

Sometimes it was a little too much when your connection to someone was so intense.

Because I could feel her spirit doing some crazy thing. Making the air seem too thin.

She looked up at me with those indigo eyes.

Adoring.

Hugging the baby to her chest, she whispered up at me. “Ollie . . . this is my niece, Penelope. Isn’t she incredible?”

Her smile was so soft I felt it cut right through the center of me.

Tentatively, I reached out and ran my knuckle down the baby’s soft, plump cheek. “She’s beautiful.”

Nikki looked back down, her voice not intended for me. “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

I stepped back, watching her as she rocked and cooed and pressed kisses to the crown of Penelope’s head before she reluctantly passed her back to Sammie.

The sisters embraced with the baby between them, the two of them whispering words, ones I knew were of encouragement.

Because that was Nikki.

Spreading her light.

Giving.

Doing her best to pour a little good into this wicked world.





28





Nikki





I stood at the wall of windows that looked out on the city spread out below me. It was nothing but a maze of twinkling lights—streets and neighborhoods and cars.

Behind me, the door creaked open.

At the sound, my spirit jumped into a frenzy, instant and eager as it stretched out for him.

Slowly, I shifted to look at Ollie, who had frozen in the doorway.

My breath hitched.

Caught up in his potency.

He stood stock still. I thought maybe he couldn’t believe I was standing there any more than I could, unable to fathom he was coming home.

And he was coming home to me.

“Are you already finished?” I asked, flashing him a smile as I turned the rest of the way around and moved into the kitchen. “I thought you decided you needed to stay a little longer tonight?”

He stepped into the loft and clicked the door shut behind him. “Think I was missin’ someone.”

“Is that so?” I went to the stove where I was making a lemon garlic chicken and roasted potatoes. I peeked over at him, lifting a shoulder as I did. “And just who was it you were missin’?”

So what if I put a little flirt into it? This was my man we were talking about.

He stalked across the space, coming right up behind me.

Towering.

Eclipsing.

He was all too quick to tug me against that wall of muscle. The man was so big, I could wear him like a blanket.

He gathered up my hair in one hand so he could run his mouth along the sensitive flesh of my neck. “You,” he murmured.

Chills flashed. Streaking across my skin. That feeling took a dive directly in that pool of desire that had taken up permanent residence low in my belly.

“Mmm, that’s good,” I whispered, bringing the wooden spoon to my mouth to test the sauce. “Because I was thinking about you.”

“You’d better be.” I could feel his smile at the side of my neck.

“Like I ever stop. How was it downstairs?” I asked.

“Busy.”

“And you’re here?”

“It’s where you are, isn’t it?”

Butterflies.

They should have been impossible after all this time. After everything we’d been through. Yet, there I stood, feeling like that fifteen-year-old girl who’d been kissed for the first time under a waterfall.

“Besides, I was pretty sure I could smell you making dinner all the way down there. Stomach was growling.”

He kissed up and down my neck. “Among other things.”

“Insatiable.”

“I thought you told me earlier that you wanted all the orgasms?”

It plucked a laugh free. “You have me there.”

“See, we’re completely on the same page. Think we totally have what it takes to make this work.”

I could feel the tease tinting every single one of his words.

Today had been bliss.

It just kept getting better and better.

“Want a taste?” I asked, spooning some sauce onto a spoon and lifting it to his mouth.

He groaned when it touched those full, full lips, framed by that beard that turned me on more than should be possible.

Everything about him was sexy.

That monstrous body and those knowing eyes and those demanding hands.

And God . . . that sound he was making at the back of his throat when he tasted the sauce.

“That’s it, you’re tryin’ to ruin me, aren’t you? Knowing my girl is up here, waiting on me while I’m downstairs working. Then I show up, and you’re wearing this.”

He flattened his palms on the short slip of a nightgown I was wearing. Silky and trimmed in lace, slits up the sides that were entirely unnecessary considering it barely covered my bottom in the first place.

I knew Ollie would love it.

His teeth nipped at my earlobe. Catching and releasing.