Page 19 of I Dream of Danger
He was looking mock-ferocious and…and hot. When she used to have girlfriends, she’d hear them say that about a boy and didn’t really understand it, and now she did. Oh man, did she understand it!
Nick was the epitome of hot. And the epitome of cool. Both, at the same time, hot prevailing right now. Hot like a flame, a source of immense attraction and life. His skin was hot under her palms, against her front, against the skin of her thighs. And he was hot in that other sense, too. So attractive you wanted to jump him. Tough, fully male, exuding pheromones by the ton.
No wonder women fell for him so hard.
A little bit of her joy dissipated as she remembered the many Dreams she’d had about him with other women. How many women she’d seen him with. Fucking. That was the operative word, of course. It had been clear that it was a physical release, because in her Dreams he never lingered. He got up from the bed immediately after climaxing and she’d seen dozens of women, startled, legs still splayed from the sex, looking at the ceiling and wondering what had happened, while in another room Nick was already showering.
Of course, she had no idea if her Dreams, those special ones that were so intense they felt like life experiences, were real or if she were crazy. How could she know? Her life became so isolated there was no one to ask. No confidante except for her dementing father.
Nick was frowning now, running a rough thumb between her eyebrows. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right this minute.”
Her face cleared. She’d forgotten how well Nick knew her. It had been so wonderful, being known by him. Understood and, well, loved.
No one had known her like that since he left, no one. It had been like being encased in a clear bubble. She was in the bubble and the entire world was outside it.
Maybe later she could tell Nick about her Dreams. But then of course she’d have to say that she’d seen him countless times with other women, and that was creepy.
She plastered a smile on her face. “Sorry, just thinking.”
“Well, stop that. You think too much. You always thought too much.”
She took in his face. When he smiled, the boy in him, the boy she’d known, came through. But when he was frowning, he was all man. Wildly attractive.
Down below, her vagina contracted around him and his eyes widened.
“Distract me,” she whispered.
“Oh yeah.” The voice was a low mutter and he bent to her. Just as his mouth touched hers, the downstairs bell sounded. Loud. Three ascending notes like the peal of church bells.
Startled, Elle looked to the side, to her alarm clock. Seven. Something was supposed to happen at seven, wasn’t it? Her head was sluggish, no connections possible. It was seven, and at seven…
“The food.” Nick groaned and rolled out of bed. “I’ll get it.”
In an amazingly short time, he was dressed, had combed his hair with his hand and looked entirely normal, except for a slight flush. And well, the scent of sex that still clung to him. But then Elle had an extraordinarily strong sense of smell. Not everyone would pick up the smell that seemed so strong to her.
“Okay,” she said, but he was already walking out the door.
He had to do this. There was no way she could get dressed and walk down the stairs in less than half an hour. Her legs felt like mush. She was uncoordinated, slightly punch-drunk.
And even if the delivery boy could wait half an hour for her to get her act together, she would scream I just had wild monkey sex from every pore of her body. She knew of no way she could hide it. Not to mention she’d be helplessly grinning like a loon.
So let him take care of it.
Male voices downstairs, the door closing. The clatter of kitchen sounds.
Elle lay there listening, every muscle lax. Someone else was doing something in her house. Someone else was doing things. Company and warm food were waiting for her downstairs and it seemed like such a miracle, something so heartening after long years of silence in her home, and feeling alone every second of every day.
A tear welled and slipped down her cheek, and she dashed it away. This wasn’t a moment for tears, it was a moment for smiles.
A deep breath, and she threw back the covers, heading for the bathroom on shaky legs, completely, utterly happy.
Chapter
Three
Nick paid for the delivery. Jesus. His heart had clenched when Elle told Jenny to put it on her credit card. If she had any money on her card, he’d eat his shorts. Elle had no money at all.
The Judge’s illness had pared them down to the bone. The happy, luxurious home he’d known was no more. Now it was this cold, empty shell. Most of the furniture and artwork, gone. The once glorious gardens abandoned and full of weeds.
