Page 31 of Nicky

I stepped farther in, trying to focus on the space instead of the man who seemed to fill it effortlessly. A throw blanket lay draped over the couch, neatly folded. A book sat on the coffee table, the spine cracked from frequent use. This wasn’t just a house; it was his home, a place he’d made his home so quickly.

I sank into the couch, letting the soft fabric cushion me. My legs brushed against the edge of the coffee table as I leaned forward. “Did you plan all this, Doc? Ice skating, hot chocolate, now this cozy domestic vibe? You setting the bar high for yourself on purpose?”

A quiet chuckle rumbled from him as he settled into the chair across from me. “You caught me. Thought I’d start strong and hope you’d stick around long enough to see I’m not perfect.”

“Not perfect? Shocking. Next, you’ll tell me you don’t actually bake those cookies for the seniors.”

His lips quirked, but there was a warmth in his eyes that made my stomach flip. “No, those I bake. You can ask the Copelands—they sell me the dough at their health food store. Well, not the dough exactly... I usually pick up whole-grain banana nut muffin mix or oatmeal cookie dough. I try to keep it healthier for the residents. They’re not getting any of those sugar-packed treats from me.”

I laughed, more to cover the sudden tightness in my chest than anything else. This shouldn’t feel so easy. Comfortable. He made it too easy to want more, to let my guard slip in ways I hadn’t allowed in years.

Still, I couldn’t help testing the waters. “You were nervous tonight, though. Admit it.”

He shifted in his chair, a sheepish grin pulling at his lips. “Maybe a little.”

“A little? Please. You kept adjusting your skates, like you couldn’t decide if you were supposed to catch me when I fell or let me crash and burn.” I leaned forward, watching him as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “It was cute, though.”

“Cute,” he repeated, his voice low, almost rumbling. His eyes fixed on me, dark and unreadable, but the warmth there hadn’t faded.

It wasn’t fair, how a single look from him could heat my skin more than the fire ever could. I’d been teasing to keep things light, but his gaze shifted the air between us, turning it heavier, thicker.

I moved to the couch’s edge, closing some of the space between us. My pulse hammered louder than my thoughts, but I wasn’t about to back down. “Don’t tell me I’ve embarrassed you.”

“Not even close.”

I reached out, brushing a stray curl from my forehead, deliberately shifting into his space. “Good, because I’m not done teasing you yet.”

He stayed still, but his jaw tightened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. He wasn’t nervous now. He was waiting.

I dropped to my knees and knee-walked toward him and leaned in. Testing him. His breath hitched just enough to make me grin. For all his confidence, Markus was still holding back. So I closed the gap, brushing my lips against his, light as a whisper.

It was all the permission he needed.

The air between us vanished as his hand found my jaw, firm and steady, pulling me closer. His lips claimed mine, a kiss that started soft and questioning before deepening, consuming.The edge of his dominance simmered just beneath the surface, coaxing a quiet sound from my throat before I could stop it.

His other hand settled on my waist, anchoring me, and I leaned into him, feeling the solid heat of his chest, the scrape of his beard against my skin. He kissed like he was unraveling me piece by piece, deliberate but urgent, careful but commanding.

By the time he pulled back, his forehead resting against mine, I was breathless. My hands were fisted in his sweater, clinging to the only steady thing in the room.

“You’re full of surprises,” I murmured, my voice unsteady.

“So are you,” he replied, his thumb brushing against my jaw, grounding me even as my pulse raced.

I wasn’t sure what had shifted tonight, but I didn’t want it to stop.

His hand on my hip tightened as he guided me backward. I barely registered the shift until his arms wrapped around me, lifting me up from where I’d dropped to my knees. With surprising ease, he placed me back onto the couch, settling me against the soft cushions.

“Lie down,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver through me.

I did, half-lowering, half falling into the cushions as he followed, caging me in without an ounce of hesitation. My pulse pounded in my ears, and I swallowed hard, trying to keep my usual bravado. But his intensity stole the air from my lungs.

His lips found mine again, hungry and unrelenting, his hand sliding from my hip to my thigh, anchoring me beneath him. My heart raced at the pressure, the heat, and I couldn’t hold back the soft sound that escaped my throat when his teeth grazed my bottom lip.

“Tell me you want this,” he breathed against my mouth, his words a growl that sent a wave of heat straight through me. “Because I won’t make another move unless I know.”

My fingers curled into his shirt, gripping him like a lifeline. “If I didn’t want this,” I managed, my voice rough and uneven, “you’d already be out on your ass.”

That earned a low chuckle, but there was nothing teasing in the way his hand slid higher, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles against my skin. His eyes met mine, dark and unyielding, the unspoken question still lingering there.

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