Home to Me (The Andrades, Book 2) (13 page)

There wasn’t even a note.

It didn’t make any sense and felt more like a game than a gift.

Nick.

Rena shivered with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Was this his way of showing he was still interested in her? He wanted to take her out for a real date?

Was the opera his idea of a high-class, in-your-face announcement that they were together?

But we aren’t—together, that is.

Even as she located her phone and readied it to text, she reminded herself of all the reasons why seeing Nick again would only cause trouble with both of their families. Gio would assume Nick was seeing her for nefarious reasons. Nick would risk losing Gio’s trust. Kane and her parents would never approve. Kane would overreact—along with Gio.

There goes my job.

Am I ready for that?

Of course, the ticket might not even be from Nick and I could be worrying about nothing.

Rena texted her question:
Did you send me something via messenger?

She held her breath and waited for his response.

Yes.

Since when do you like opera?

I don’t. I find it boring.

So, why invite me?

Because you don’t like it either. Which makes it perfect.

I love opera. I’ve been many times.

Your parents love it. You go to make them happy.

Nick’s insight into what motivated Rena was unsettling.
I never said that.

You never had to. I know you better than you think I do.

His text sent a confusing rush of pleasure through her. She didn’t enjoy opera, but her parents loved taking her so she’d never said a word about it.
He does know me, even the parts of me I try to deny.

His next text came before she had time to answer his last:
Come to
Aida
tonight. Wear the dress I’m having delivered to you.

Nick, if we’re seen together in public—

Do you trust me?

It wasn’t an easy question to answer. She’d known him for most of her life. He was impulsive and often defiant in the face of authority, but he’d never involved her in anything he thought could hurt her.
I do trust you, but . . .

Text me when you get there.

She wanted to say yes so much that not doing so brought a shine of tears to her eyes. His persistence forced her to face the largest hurdle between them: her fear. She grasped for a safer alternative:
I don’t know, Nick. Maybe if we went somewhere more private.

He didn’t respond.

She added:
We shouldn’t do this at all.

No answer.

Finally, she typed,
I’m not going
,
and dropped the phone into her bathrobe pocket.
Jerk.

A few minutes later her doorbell rang again and another messenger delivered a large black-and-white box. Hugging the package in her arms, she spoke to her empty living room. “You are making it very hard for me to say no, Nick.”

She laid the box on her couch and held its contents out in front of her. It was a strapless, floor-length shimmering blue gown with a slit cut high up one thigh. The material was light and designed to cling. It was definitely sexier than anything she would have chosen for herself.

Her phone beeped with an incoming message:
Do you like it?

She typed back:
It’s not my style.

Try it on.

It’s too small.

Tell me how you look in it.

Rena shook her head, then relented. She could argue it out with him, but part of her wanted to see how it would look on her. She stepped out of her clothing and slid the dress over her head. It fit her perfectly but left very little, if anything, to the imagination. She’d worn plenty of gowns in her life, but never one like this. The thin material hugged her curves intimately, bordering on indecently.
I can’t wear it in public. I’d feel . . .
She almost said naked, but stopped herself.
Ridiculous. It barely covers anything.

Sounds perfect.

For someone you’d hire for the night, but not for me.

So prudish. I love that side of you. You will wear it for me. You know why? Because we both know you want to.

Rena looked in the mirror and bit her bottom lip. Her nipples puckered beneath the thin material. Her eyes looked wild with desire and her cheeks were flushed pink. Saying no made sense, but saying yes was what she craved.

What are we doing, Nick?

Seeing you all week without being able to touch you has been driving me out of my mind. You don’t want anyone to know about us, and I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ll play by your rules, Rena, if you play by mine. No one needs to know about tonight. Go to the opera, Rena, and go commando.

Commando? As in, no panties? Is he crazy?

There is no way I would ever even consider doing that.

No way.

***

That night Rena exited a cab in front of Lincoln Center and clutched the front of the long coat she’d thrown on over her gown. She stood outside by the fountain and looked for Nick but didn’t see him. After gathering her courage, she stepped into the grand lobby of the Metropolitan Opera House. She’d seen these chandeliers many times before, but that night they shone extra bright. All of her senses were heightened. The fall air felt crisper. The deep rich reds were lusher. The paintings on the walls looked more sexual than she’d ever noticed.

She sent Nick a quick text to announce that she had arrived, then searched the crowd. Some were acquaintances of hers, but many more were complete strangers, and she suddenly didn’t want to hide anymore. She shrugged off her long coat and checked it.

She turned back toward the crowd and felt—free.

And beautiful.

She’d swept her hair up off her neck and had carefully applied just enough makeup to bring out her eyes and high cheekbones. Some of the men around her stopped paying attention to their dates and gave her blatantly appreciative looks. Rena held herself proudly and had to admit she’d never felt sexier than she did that night.

She could feel people watching her as she walked past them. Women glared at her. More than one made catty remarks as she walked past and Rena bit back a smile. Never in her life had she imagined she could enjoy that type of attention.

Naughty really could feel nice.

She walked up to her private box alone and was disappointed to discover it was empty. Six seats were placed in two rows. Behind them was a curtain, designed to block the light from the hallway should the door open during the performance. She sat in the back row, but was still visible from the box seats across and adjacent to her.

What did I think he would do—buy out the theatre like he’d bought out the coffee shop?

As she sat alone, waiting for the lights to dim, she began to feel a little ridiculous. She checked her phone for a message from Nick but there wasn’t one. She was tempted to go back down to the lobby to look for him, but she forced herself to remain seated.

The door behind the curtain opened and Rena held her breath. An older gentleman in a tux unfolded a small tray and placed a bottle of champagne on it. “Your champagne, ma’am.” He popped the cork silently and poured a glass. One glass.

If Nick were joining her, wouldn’t he have requested two glasses? She accepted her drink graciously but felt confused. Maybe he’d changed his mind?
Maybe we’re only meeting afterward?
If so, it’d be a long wait. The opera was nearly four hours long.

After the waiter left, Rena sipped her champagne and resigned herself to once again pretend to be interested in
Aida.
Yes, the singing would be beautiful. Yes, translations were now projected onto a screen so a person could know what the singers were saying. But Rena had been born missing the gene that allowed people to enjoy prolonged bouts of dramatic singing.

The lights dimmed and a hush fell over the audience. In the quiet of the first act Rena heard the door behind her open. The woman in the box next to hers frowned at her, and Rena smiled back apologetically. Had Nick sent up sandwiches to go with the champagne? Shrimp cocktail, perhaps? Or was this when she’d receive the note explaining why he hadn’t been able to make it?

“Rena,” Nick’s voice whispered from behind the curtain. “Come here.”

Rena turned in her seat but all she could see was the plush velvet door curtain. “Nick?” she whispered.

The woman in the box beside her shushed her and Rena held in a giggle. She skirted out of her chair and pulled the edge of the curtain back to peer behind it. Instantly she was yanked behind it and gasped as she was pulled into the arms of a man she hoped was Nick. She couldn’t tell because of the absolute darkness the curtain provided.

Nick placed a hand over her mouth and whispered in her ear, “If you want to keep us a secret, don’t get us thrown out.” He kissed one side of her neck and said, “I am going to take you right here, right now.” He kissed his way across one of her exposed collarbones and murmured, “Even when you come—and you will come for me, Rena—don’t make a sound.”

With her heart beating crazily in her chest, Rena nodded. Nick removed his hand and kissed her. He dug his hands into her hair and plundered her mouth thoroughly until Rena was shaking with need against him. She clung to the cotton material of his dress shirt and gave herself over to the experience.

This was the passion her life had lacked.

He ran a hand down her back, over her ass, and along her thigh until he found the high slit in the dress. He shoved his hand beneath it and made a soft approving sound deep in his chest when his hand found no barrier to her already wet center. He dipped a finger inside her, then two, stroking her intimately while he continued to explore and ravage her mouth.

He leaned her back and spread her legs wider for his hand. His technique was one of confident expertise. He alternated rubbing her clit with thrusting his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm. Each time he reentered her, Rena clenched around his fingers and hot ecstasy shot through her. She fought to contain her moans, to keep her head enough to stop from crying out as wave after wave of pleasure rocked through her.

With his free hand, he lowered the bodice of her gown, exposing her breasts to his hungry mouth. He took a nipple roughly between his teeth, nipping at her in a way that had her throwing her head back and losing control. “Oh, yes,” she gasped out.

Nick covered her mouth with his hand and chuckled. “Do I need to stop?”

She violently shook her head.
Oh, God, no.

He rewarded her by moving his mouth to her other breast and nipping expertly at it as well. Rena shook and writhed against Nick, seeking more. She wanted to rip off her own dress and give his mouth full access to her. She wanted to cry out for him to plunge into her right then. No more waiting.

He increased the tempo of his magical fingers, and Rena bit her lip to stop herself from sobbing as a wild orgasm overtook her. He kissed her as the spasms rocked her body and she finally sagged against him.

He removed his hands from her, and she would have fallen to his feet in a satisfied puddle if she hadn’t been holding onto his shoulders. She heard him undo his belt and zipper. Although she couldn’t see it, she felt the tip of his rock-hard shaft against her stomach when he freed it. He sheathed it in a condom, then lifted her against the hidden side wall of the opera box.

Rena pulled his mouth back to hers and shivered with anticipation as he raised her gown and adjusted her to accept him. The emotion and volume of the singers rose, mirroring the passion of their kisses and the frenzy of their touch. She opened herself to him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He thrust deeply into her and withdrew, thrusting again with more force. She met his movements with her own, loving how he filled her. Again and again, each time deeper and deeper, until Rena felt a second orgasm building within her.

As the song reached a crescendo, Rena gripped herself around him, came with a shudder, and absorbed the moan that accompanied his own release. He held her there, intimately pinned against the wall, while their breathing returned to normal. Slowly he withdrew, then lowered her to stand.

He adjusted his clothing while she pulled her dress back into place, and then she was back in his arms as he whispered, “I fucking love the opera.”

She laughed softly. “Me too.”

He whispered, “Now you’ll have something to think about when you come here with your family.”

“I don’t think I could ever come here with my parents again,” Rena whispered back with another quiet laugh.

He licked her neck with his hot tongue. “You will, and when you do, you’ll think of me inside you. I like that image. You sitting there all prim and proper, wishing I was there to fuck you. Getting wet and remembering how you came for me right here.” He set her back from him and said, “Go back to your seat, Rena.”

“We’re staying?” Rena asked softly.