Only His (Fool's Gold #6)(28)
It took Nevada a second to process what she was saying. Embarrassment poured through her as she frantically wondered who else had guessed her secret. Did Tucker know? Did he pity her? Because that would be the worst.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
Cat grabbed her arms and shook her. “He needs you. Go to him. He’s at home right now.”
“I…”
Before she could say anything else, Cat was gone, leaving a trail of exotic perfume fading at the door.
Nevada spent the next twenty minutes trying to figure out what to do. Go to Tucker? Could she? He loved Cat. He couldn’t see anyone or anything else. But if they’d broken up, then he was available. And hurting.
In the end, her heart had won the battle. She’d grabbed her car keys and fled down the stairs to the parking lot by her door. Sooner than she would have thought possible, she was at Tucker’s door, knocking.
He opened it almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting for her. But when he saw her, the expectation on his face faded to disappointment.
“I thought you were Cat,” he said, his words slurred.
“I heard what happened.” She followed him inside.
“She left me.”
He collapsed on the sofa, rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands.
“She left me,” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe the words.
Nevada had never been to his place before. She knew where he lived, as she had picked him up here a couple of times, but she hadn’t gotten past the parking lot.
Now she quickly took in the leather sofas, the carved tables. The room was elegant. More GQ than bachelor pad. The artwork looked original and expensive. There was a metal sculpture in the corner, and she had a feeling it had been done by Cat.
In fact, the whole apartment screamed Cat’s name. Not just in the pale gray walls or the textured drapes, but in the stack of books in French and Italian. The London Times resting on the coffee table.
Jealousy twisted Nevada’s stomach. Had the other woman lived here? She didn’t want to believe it was true, but couldn’t ignore the evidence. If Cat wasn’t here permanently, she had spent enough time to leave her mark.
“I can’t do this,” Tucker muttered.
Nevada crossed to the sofa and sat next to him.
“I can’t live without her.” He turned to stare at Nevada, his eyes bloodshot. “She’s my world. Without her…” Pain tightened his features. “I never want to feel this way again. Love blows. But I couldn’t help myself, you know? Not with her.”
“It’s okay,” she told him, tentatively touching his shoulder. “I know it hurts now, but you’ll find someone else.”
“No. Never. There’s only her.”
His pain ripped at Nevada, leaving her desperately wanting to fix him. She ignored her own ache, hearing the man she loved declare his feelings for someone else.
“There isn’t.” She put her hand on his face and turned him toward her. “There isn’t just her.” She drew in a breath, dug deep for courage and blurted, “There’s me.”
His brows drew together in confusion.
“I love you,” she said quickly, before she lost her nerve. “I have for a long time. Cat doesn’t care about you. She can’t care about anyone. But I do care, Tucker. So much.”
She kissed him, her mouth bumping his awkwardly.
He didn’t respond. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t kiss her back. Instead he sat there, immobile. She ignored the humiliation, the voice screaming at her to run while she still had some pride left.
“Tucker, please,” she whispered against his lips, then grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast.
She’d never done anything like that before in her life. Part of it was that she’d never had sex before. While she’d dated in high school, the farthest she’d ever gone had been a boy lightly stroking her breast over clothes.
But this was different. This was Tucker and he was her world. As much as he thought he loved Cat, Nevada knew she loved him more. Her love was great, bigger and stronger. It would survive anything.
Suddenly he started kissing her back. His hand closed over her breast, squeezing so hard it hurt. His tongue pushed into her mouth as he shoved up her shirt and fumbled with her bra.
He never got it unfastened. Instead he pulled her breast out of the cup and rubbed the nipple.
Everything was so strange, she thought, trying to figure out what to pay attention to. He tasted and smelled of Scotch, which wasn’t exactly what she was used to. And while the hand on her breast no longer hurt, she didn’t have time to decide if she enjoyed it or not. Because just when she thought she might have felt a tingle, he was grabbing her around the waist and sliding her down on the sofa. His hands moved between them.
She felt fingers on her belly, then her jeans and panties were being lowered. He pushed one pant leg off, taking her sandal with it, but left the other on.
It was everything she wanted and it was happening too fast. A voice in her head whispered she hadn’t imagined it like this. Not on a sofa with him drunk and her…
“Tucker, I…”
Even as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say, he shifted back on the sofa and bent between her legs, pressing his mouth against her intimately. Before she could figure out what was happening, he was kissing her down there!