Page 46 of Wicked Lies

“Thanks.” He held up his half. “But you still have to tell me about you and Jimmy.”

She dragged in a breath. Thinking of her past always brought on unwanted feelings. “My mother was moving in with yet another druggie boyfriend, and Jimmy gave me a place to stay, he—”

“Forced you to steal and run cons for him while he wasted your money on bad bets and blow.” Nick cocked his head like he’d answered the bonus round ofJeopardy.

“Jimmy had his faults, but I wasn’t innocent either.” She fiddled with the collar of the robe. “I’d been stealing since I was a kid. First food, so I could eat regular, but then I advanced to wallets, watches—anything I could get my hands on.” She sighed. “That’s how I met him. I was trying to lift his wallet.”

“Un-fuckin-believable.”

“It started as a way to survive, but then the thrill was better than the profit.”

She concentrated on the crumbs from the chocolate donut to avoid seeing his reaction.

“Your days of stealing are over.” He raised her chin with his forefinger. “As long as you’re with me, you’ll never want for anything, and as for the thrill part . . .”

He pushed the tray to the side, wound his arm around her shoulders, tucking her head against his bare chest. The faint scent of his cologne calmed her. He eased his back against the headboard, pulled a condom out of the bedside table and handed it to her. Then he lifted her over his hips.

“Climb on.” He nudged her hips. “Ride me.”

Cheryl shrugged off the robe and pulled his sweatpants over his hips, loving him under her. Sliding the condom on, she grinned when he hissed in a breath. She wiggled her hips and then rocked forward, drenching him until he slid home. Her hands went from Nick’s shoulders to the headboard, riding him hard, letting each thrust graze over her spot until the sensation built to sweet pain.

He captured her breast, and when he sucked it into his mouth, she moaned. “Make it good, Nick,” she gasped as he stretched her.

He pulled his mouth from her breast and gazed at her with hooded eyes. “Unless the goddamn world comes to an end this very minute, there’s no way this could be bad.”

Cheryl jerked her hips harder, faster—each stroke bringing her closer, hitting her spot deeper. The friction and building tension brought her to a place beyond conscious sensations.

“I love watching you work me.” His grin was lazy and sated. “Taking me in, squeezing me hard.”

She let go of the headboard and pressed her hands against Nick’s chest. Her every movement bringing her closer—bringing them closer.

“That’s right, baby. Fuck me.”

His words made her buck faster, clenching around him with each pull. His hand slipped around her neck, and he drew her down, his breath hot against her ear. “I want you to come all over me. Drown my dick and melt for me, baby.”

Then Nick captured her mouth in a wet, sloppy kiss of tongues, nips, and bites until she screamed around his lips in the best orgasm ever. He jerked hard a few times beneath her, and she knew he felt it too. Sweat-slicked and spent, he brushed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead.

She shifted to move off him, but he stilled her with his hand.

“Don’t. Stay right there.”

She raised her head from his chest and smiled. Their bodies still connected, his heart beating hard under her cheek, his hand gliding down her back. And again, tranquil contentment surrounded her—something she never thought could exist.

Hours later after more mind-blowing orgasms, they were still snuggled in bed, legs and arms entwined, his hand in her hair.

“There’s something about you that makes me want to be better.” Nick nuzzled into her tresses.

“You’re already the best to me.”

“Nah, it’s different.” He scrunched some pillows behind them, and she leaned on his chest, their faces inches apart. “When other women would ask me about my scar, I’d say I got it in a knife fight or some other tough-guy bullshit. I never told anybody—”

“Shhh.” She pressed her finger to his lips. “You don’t ever have to pretend with me.”

“Hey, Nick you here?”

15

Nick bolted upright in the bed. “It’s Jax, I’ll get rid of him.” He swung his legs over the bed, swiped up a pair of sweatpants, yanked them on, and slipped into the living room.

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