Page 56 of Babies for the Big Shot
His brows lift a little in silent question.
I give the smallest nod toward the far hallway, the quiet corridor near the coat check where nobody lingers this late into the evening.
His mouth curves in the faintest smile. I think he’s already thinking dirty thoughts.
But I want answers, not sex.
I think.
He excuses himself and crosses the room in long, purposeful strides, weaving through the glittering crowd with a claim that demands attention. He owns this space. He owns me.
By the time we slip into the quiet space behind the ballroom, I’ve forgotten half my words.
“Sara,” he murmurs, stepping close. Too close. His hand slides to my waist, his thumb stroking the satin curve of my hip. “What’s wrong? You disappeared.”
I swallow hard, my heart doing dangerous things.
“I saw someone.”
His brow furrows. “Who?”
“In the bathroom. She… she said some things.”
He stiffens. “What things?”
I lick my lips, suddenly unsure. “She said she used to come here with you. For three years.”
Nick exhales slowly, his jaw tightening. “Rebecca.”
“So it was her.” My chest tightens. “She made it sound like this was a mistake. Like I’m a mistake.”
His eyes darken. “You are not a mistake.”
I press my palm against his chest, feeling the hard beat of his heart beneath his shirt. “Nick, I don’t want to be something temporary. Some… distraction until you get bored.”
His fingers close over mine, pulling me closer. “You’re not temporary. Or a distraction.” His voice roughens. “You drive me out of my goddamn mind, Sara.”
I open my mouth to answer, to push for more—but then his mouth crashes down on mine.
Hard. Hot. Desperate.
The words die in my throat.
His hands grip my hair, pulling hard, tipping my head back as he devours my mouth with a desperate hunger, needing this kiss as if it’s the only thing keeping him alive.
I gasp as my back bumps against the wall, the cool surface sending a shiver down my spine. His thigh presses between mine, pinning me there, and suddenly my questions dissolve in a rush of heat and wanting.
“Nick…”
“Shut up,” he growls softly, his mouth trailing hot kisses along my jaw, down my throat. “Don’t ever let her put doubt in your head. You belong here. Withme.”
His hand slides down, catching the slit of my gown, dragging it higher up my thigh.
I whimper, torn between sense and sensation, but he’s already parting the fabric, his palm skating up my bare leg with slow, dangerous intent.
“Nick,” I gasp, trying again, but my voice breaks as his thumb grazes the lace edge of my panties.
“You’re mine tonight,” he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot in the hollow of my throat. “No one gets to touch this. Not anymore. Not ever.”
