Loving You (32 page)

“More,” she whispered, and heard the break in her voice.

“Now,” he said, and reaching beneath her, he undid the zipper, then tugged the flimsy fabric down and off.
Then he cupped her, his palm tight against the scrap of black silk still covering her.

Tasha moved, lifting her hips into his hand. His thumb traced over a so-sensitive spot and she whimpered even as tiny electriclike shocks shot through her body. Writhing in the patch of moonlight spread across the bed, she hungered for more. She reached for him, but he avoided her hands as he slid lower, off the edge of the mattress, then pulled her to him.

“Nick…” She went up on her elbows as he hooked his fingers under the elastic band and slowly pulled her black silk panties down her legs.

He looked at her, eyes dark and fathomless. “Just lay back,” he said, “and let me have you.”

“But—” Tasha wanted his arms around her again. She wanted to feel his body pressed to hers. Flesh to flesh, that brush of hard to soft. Her body ached as she watched him kneel and position her legs on either side of him. “Nick, what're you—”

His fingertips dusted the insides of her thighs, and Tasha bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep from whimpering. Then slowly, tantalizingly slowly, his fingers moved closer to the heart of her. She lifted her hips in anticipation. She didn't know what to expect. What to feel. What to do. God, why didn't she know what to do?

He touched her.

Tasha splintered.

His fingers smoothed across her most intimate flesh and she gasped drunkenly for air. Drawing her legs up, bracing her heels on the edge of the bed, Tasha looked at him as she arched into his touch, wanting more but not sure how to tell him. But he didn't need to be told. His hands guided her legs to his shoulders, and before
she could take a breath and hold it, his mouth covered her.

“Nick!” Her head dropped to the mattress and her hands fisted in the sheets. She hadn't expected this. Hadn't thought of anything but opening her body for his. But this was more, somehow. More intimate. More devastating. His mouth took her, his tongue sweeping wild, long strokes across her center until she lay twisting, helpless beneath his touch.

Heels digging into his back, she arched, lifting into him. Sensation poured through her in a rush. Breath staggered. Eyes wide, she stared up at the ceiling, then shifted her gaze down to where Nick was loving her. She reached for him, stretching out one hand to touch his hair, smooth his forehead. He glanced at her, and the heat in his eyes scorched her. She moved again, arching, lifting herself into him. He pushed her higher, higher, until she struggled toward the peak she felt rising in front of her.

His mouth took her places she'd never imagined. His tongue stroked her so intimately, her whole body seemed to shimmer with a pulsing light that played out in time with the beating of her heart. She hadn't known. Hadn't guessed that pleasure could be so deep. So all-encompassing. His breath dusted her body and she sighed his name. His hands smoothed her legs, her bottom. He lifted her off the bed, cradling her as he pushed her higher, faster, up a mountain of raging emotion until she raced breathlessly for the peak. And he was still cradling her when she shattered, whispering his name.

Before the last of the tremors had died away, Nick eased her down onto the bed, tore his clothes off, grabbed a condom, and slid up the length of her body.
She humbled him. She touched his heart in ways he wouldn't have thought possible. And he needed her more than ever.

She turned her head and smiled at him. “That was…”

“Just the beginning,” he said, and kissed her, shifting to cover her body with his. She welcomed him, opening her legs, her heart, and taking him home.

He entered her slowly, prolonging the pleasure, staking his claim on her body, her heart, inch by inch. She reached for him, sliding her hands across his chest, dragging her short, neat nails along his flesh. He sucked in air through clenched teeth and looked down into meadow green eyes dazed with passion.

She lifted her hips, guiding him home, and he surrendered, pushing himself into her warmth. But in the next instant, he froze, buried within her.
A virgin?
Heart pounding, brain screaming, and need hammering at him, he swallowed hard, looked down at her, and said, “You should have told me.”

“You know now.”

“When it's too late.”

“It was always too late to stop this,” she said, reaching up to cup his face.

He turned his face into her palm and kissed it. “Your first time should have been special. Should have been…”

“I waited for this until tonight, Nick,” she said. “This one small part of myself I managed to hold on to, until now.” She smiled up at him and rocked her hips, testing his control, pushing him past the edge of endurance. “And it
is
perfect. Or will be.…”

Nick bent his head to kiss her, humbled again. She'd given him the one piece of herself she'd protected, despite
whatever troubles had plagued her life. She'd been, at the heart of her, an innocent. She'd fought him and changed him and forced him to rethink a lot of his life. And now Nick felt the enormity of it all crashing down on him. She'd become a part of him. The
best
part. “Oh, it's gonna be,” he whispered, bending low to brush a kiss across her mouth.

He moved within her and she gasped at the sweet friction of bodies joining. Setting the pace, he rocked in and out of her warmth with a rhythm as steady, as all-consuming, as a heartbeat. He watched her eyes glaze, watched her breath hitch in her chest. She dragged her nails across his shoulders and down his back, and the gentle scrape tore away what was left of the shell he'd built around his heart.

He looked into her eyes and found what he'd been missing all his life. He rocked his body deeper into hers, and as she took him inside, Nick realized he never wanted to leave.

Tasha moved with him, catching the rhythm of his movements and following him in this dance as she had earlier, on the porch. Moonlight drifted through the window and played on his features with a gentle touch. His eyes shone dark and deep as he looked at her. She felt the magic surround her as he claimed her body, heart, and soul.

This time, they reached the peak together, souls shattering, becoming one, and they held tight to each other as they fell.

Minutes, hours, maybe
centuries
later, Tasha moved and Nick shifted his weight off of her, rolling to his back and dragging her along with him.

“Wow,” she said softly.

“Yeah, that about sums it up.” Nick smiled into the
darkness and stroked one hand up and down her arm as she snuggled in close. “Still wish you had told me.”

She tipped her head back on his chest to look up at him. “It's not something you can just drop into casual conversation, y'know. ‘Oh, by the way, I'm the world's oldest living virgin outside a convent.'“

He rolled to his side, draped one arm across her middle, and stared down at her. “Tasha, we moved beyond casual a few steps back. And still you didn't tell me.”

She didn't look at him, letting her gaze slide to one side.

“Just like,” Nick added, wanting to get everything into the open at last, “you didn't tell me that Mimi's dead.”

She froze in his arms. Her body went stiff with shock and her features were suddenly blank. Unreadable. She pushed at his arm, trying to slip away from his hold, but Nick only tightened his grip on her, locking her in close to his body with an arm wrapped around her waist.

“Let me go.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

Her gaze snapped to his, and the passion shining there only moments before was gone, replaced by suspicion and anger. “How did you find out?”

“Jonas told me.” That ride home from the DNA test had been a long one. He'd listened to Jonas's fears and tried to ease them, all the while knowing that he couldn't talk to Tasha about any of it. He'd wanted her to come to him, as Jonas had. To include him, to let him help. But no matter the closeness between them, she hadn't budged.

Tonight she'd allowed him into her body.… Now he wanted into her heart.

“Then you already know everything.”

Apparently, though, it wasn't going to be easy. “I don't know why you didn't tell me yourself.”

She pushed at his arm again, and this time he let her move. She slipped off the bed, snatched an old afghan off a nearby chair, and wrapped it around her before facing him again. Tossing her hair back from her face, she said, “I couldn't tell you. You might have told Social Services. Then they would have taken Jonas.”

“You think I'd rat you out?” That was insulting. He sat up, grabbed the sheet, and drew it up to cover his own nudity. Easier to fight if you weren't worried about your body betraying you.

“How was I supposed to know what you'd do?”

“And now?” he asked, hoping to hell she knew him well enough now to know that she could count on him.

She scooped her hair back, threading her fingers through the thick mass and yanking at it in frustration. “Now?” Shaking her head, she turned around and sat down on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, her back to him. “I don't know anything anymore.”

Nick reached out and stroked one hand up and down her spine. “Talk to me, Tasha. Tell me what's going on. Let me in.”

Tasha stared out the window, but she wasn't seeing the night. Instead she was seeing snatches of her past. Snapshots of her and Mimi. Her and Jonas. She was seeing this house, her home, and her family. And then she saw it all taken from her. Her heart ached, and when Nick took her hand in his, she held on tightly, glad suddenly to not be alone in the dark.

Slowly, she started talking, and then found she
couldn't stop. She told him about Mimi's sudden death. About how her Social Security money was sitting, untouched, in a savings account. She told him about the postcards sent by Mimi's loyal friends and the fears that had haunted Tasha for months. She told him about her half-baked plan to run away again, and she felt his fingers tighten on hers when she said it.

She'd been able, always, to talk to Molly. But this was different.
Nick
was different. It felt good to get it all out. To hear herself put her darkest fears into words. To feel his hand on hers tighten in support and to hear him whisper words of encouragement as she poured her heart out to him.

And when it was finished, done, she felt like a popped balloon.

“A month,” Nick said thoughtfully.

“That's it.”

“You're not going to run?”

She thought about it, then remembered everything Molly had said about sentencing Jonas to a life like the one she'd tried to forget. “No,” she said, feeling that one slim chance slip from her grasp. “I won't run.”

“And I won't let them take Jonas from you.”

“Oh,” she said, shaking her head, “you don't know the terrifying Ms. Walker.”

“We'll find a way,” he said, and she wanted to believe him. She wanted to think that he could help. That he wasn't actually her enemy but a blessing instead. But hope—trust—came hard to a heart that had been battered too often.

She turned her head to look at him and found his gaze, soft and reassuring, on her. “I've been fighting two fronts,” she said softly. “Social Services—and
you
. One of you will take him from me.”

Nick pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her as she cuddled in close to his chest. Her heartbeat thumped against his own and he felt her fear like a living thing in the moonlight. Resting his chin on top of her head, he said, “If he's my son, I swear you won't lose him.”

“And if he's not?” she asked, her voice as hushed and soft as the light pooling around them.

“If he's not…” Nick didn't want to acknowledge that possibility. The boy and Tasha had become all-important to him and the thought of losing either of them was something he didn't want to consider. So he didn't. “We'll figure out what to do. Together.”

C
HAPTER
19

Three days later, Tasha stood at her bedroom window and watched Nick walk to his car. When he reached the Vette, he paused, looked up at her, and grinned. Stupid, but she felt a flash of heat rush through her.

God, he'd just left her bed. She sighed and leaned her forehead against the cold windowpane. He'd only just finished showing her what a shower could really be like … and here she was, raring to go again. What the heck was going on? She'd gone from virgin to raging sex maniac in a couple of days.

“Damn, it feels good.”

Nick climbed into his car and roared off, leaving gravel spitting in his wake. Dropping the curtains, Tasha faced the mirror, grabbed a brush, and ran it through her hair quickly, then headed downstairs. Time to go to work. Time to face the knowing glances from her customers and at lunchtime, no doubt, another inquisition from Molly.

For the last three mornings, it had been the same. Jonas left for school, Nick showed up, they had an hour or so together, and then he left, both of them going to work. The only difference was,
his
co-workers didn't
know
that he was sleeping with her.

Here at Castle's, the situation was a little different.

Did she mind? She'd asked herself that more than a couple of times the last few days. And the answer remained the same. No. She'd put up with the teasing and she'd try to ignore Molly's foolish, romantic dreams of planning a big wedding. Instead, she'd decided to simply accept what was. She'd have this time with Nick no matter what.

And for however long she had it, she was determined to enjoy it. Mimi's advice continued to echo in her mind, and damn it, Mimi had rarely been wrong. There was something to be said for simply enjoying life. And Tasha hadn't had nearly enough of it.