“That smells good. What are you making?” I turn my head to respond to her, but it takes a minute for her question to catch up to my brain.

Not half as good as you smell. I’d like to eat you instead. “Couscous.”

“You make couscous?”

“Well it doesn’t taste good straight from the box.”

“Cute.” She smirks at me. Even her smirk turns me on. “What’s in it?”

“Garlic, olive oil, peppers, onions, parsley…”

Elle jumps down from the counter. I had put her there to keep her at a distance. She doesn’t realize what she does to me every time she comes near me.

“Can I help?” Her arm brushes against mine as she comes to stand next to me at the counter. She leans down over the pan where the ingredients are sautéing and her eyes close as she breathes in the aroma. Clearly, she appreciates the smell. Her face softens and her cheeks go slack as her nose delivers the scent to her brain. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. She needs to get back up on that f**king counter.

Chapter 20

Elle

Nico lifts me as if I am nothing but a doll and seats me back on the counter. It’s the second time he’s moved me out of the way. The man sure is territorial about his kitchen when he cooks, oddly, I find it sexy. The inside of his hand brushes the curve of my breast each time he lifts me and I have to recross my legs and squeeze my thighs shut to keep my body from responding to him.

“I’ve seen you cook, remember? I think I’ll do this one on my own.” He grins at me. A cocky smile that should annoy me. But instead I find myself mirroring his smile. I’m smiling back at him after he just insulted me. The man makes me lose all my common sense.

Dinner is delicious. We get to know each other a little more. I tell him about my job, my volunteer work at the battered women’s clinic, and a few things about my childhood. I skip between the ages of eleven and seventeen. They don’t exist to me anymore. Nico tells me about his gym and some of the other products he endorses and I’m impressed by how much he seems to know about the products. Clearly he doesn’t endorse something unless he uses it and feels strongly about it. Unlike many athletes that endorse one product and use another, money doesn’t seem to buy his endorsement.

After dinner, I tell him to go relax and let me clean up. He doesn’t listen, so instead we do it together. It feels natural and comfortable to clean up his kitchen. We work together easily, without effort…like we’ve done it a thousand times before. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten that feeling when I’m with Nico. Sometimes I feel as though I’ve known him a lot longer than I have. Oddly familiar, yet it’s all new and exciting at the same time.

My heartbeat picks up as Nico pours me a glass of wine and dims the lights in the kitchen. With dinner out of the way, there’s nothing left to occupy our time. Except what I think we’re both anticipating will happen. We haven’t known each other that long, yet I feel like I’ve been anticipating this night forever. Since the day he walked into my office.

He takes my hand and leads me to the couch. Nico looks up at me and his cocky grin is gone, replaced by something that I didn’t expect to see written on his face. He looks worried. He exhales loudly, forcing out a deep breath I didn’t realize he was holding, and his hands run through his hair nervously. It feels like he’s mentally preparing himself to tell me something. To deliver bad news. My stomach lurches at the thought.

“Have you ever been to a fight?” The loft is quiet and his voice is so low it sounds almost pained.

“You mean an MMA fight?”

“Yes.” He waits quietly for my response.

“Once.”

Nico’s eyebrows shoot up. He’s surprised that I’ve been to a fight. I grin at him. He’s right to be surprised, I still can’t believe I got conned into going. I haven’t told him that I was at one of his fights. Especially not the one that I saw. He smiles back at me, but then his face falls again before he continues.

“Who was fighting?”

“You.” It’s not like the subject has come up in our conversation and I lied to him, yet I feel like I’ve done something wrong for not mentioning that I was at a fight. That fight.

My answer takes him my surprise. “You’ve seen me fight?”

“Once.”

“Which fight?”

“I don’t remember the other guy’s name.” I should remember, I remember everything. But I’m not lying when I respond. I’ve blocked the whole thing from my memory so well that I actually don’t remember. I’m good at doing that. Luckily, my brain goes into protective mode sometimes.

“Did I win?” I see a hint of his cocky smile. He must have always won.

“Yes.” I smile.

“Did he tap out or was it a decision?”

“Ummm.” I have no idea how to respond to the question. Nico probably thinks I don’t know what tap out means. But I do. Only in that fight, his opponent didn’t tap out and there was no need for a decision.

“What round did I win in?”

“I think it was the second.”

I watch as his face changes. His eyes close as he realizes which fight I saw. His handsome face is pained and I’m not sure if it’s the memory of that night or if it’s because I’ve just told him I was there. I say nothing because I’m not sure what to say. I only know that seeing him in pain hurts me. Physically.

I reach out and take both of his hands into my hands and gently squeeze, imploring him to look at me. He doesn’t move for a long moment. His head still bowed down, he eventually looks up at me. What I see breaks my heart. Raw pain in his eyes and sadness etched on his face.

“You know.” His voice is strained and I get the urge to make it better. Make him better. Make him forget the memory that causes him so much pain. Sometimes it can be unbearable, I know all too well. All those years I had no one to help me forget.

I nod my head once. His words weren’t a question, but I gave him the answer anyway. I watch as Nico closes his eyes for a long moment before looking back at me. Something hits him and I’m not sure what it is, but some of the pain that was there a minute ago flees from his face. Some of it is still there, but it’s less pronounced now.

“You’re here anyway.” His face is so serious and intent. It’s such an odd, surreal moment. His eyes are locked with mine, filled with intensity and pain and everything in the background falls away. There is nothing in the moment except me and Nico. The here and now, everything else is just a blur because he holds my sole focus.

I don’t even know where my response comes from. I’m a think before you speak type of person. But I hold his gaze as the words fall from my lips, time stops for my simple five word response and when it starts back up again, everything is different. “Where else would I be?” My words are spoken softly, but they connect with Nico instantly.

For a split second I see something in his eyes that I can’t place, but it warms me all over. Like being wrapped in a warm blanket when you’re cold, it brings me comfort and heat and I just want to crawl under and stay there. Nico is silent as he stands. I look up just as he reaches down and scoops me up into his big arms. He cradles me tightly as he walks. Neither of us say a word, we just watch each other.

We enter what must be his bedroom and he gently sets me down in the middle of his big bed. But he doesn’t join me right away. Instead he stands up and takes it all in. Me, laying in the middle of his bed. I think he’s taking a mental picture, as if he wants to sear it into his brain and remember it forever. It makes me feel adored. It’s the sweetest thing a man has ever done and it took no words.

His long, slow, heated gaze sweeps up my body and when his eyes finally reach my eyes, I can barely take the wait anymore. I want him. So damn badly. It’s actually more of a need than a want. It should scare me to feel what I’m feeling, but it doesn’t. There is no room for scared between us. I reach up and offer him my hand, and Nico looks between my eyes and my hand and back again before taking it. The silent confirmation of what I need is enough and I finally get what I want.

Slowly, he half covers my body with his, the other half of his weight supported by the bed. The part that is touching me is thick and hard and I wish that his body was completely over mine so I could feel each and every rippled muscle pressed against me. Instead, he uses the space between us to brush his big hand over the side of my body.

His hand starts at the middle of my thigh and painstakingly slowly runs up my side. Nico’s eyes don’t leave mine as his hand travels. When his hand reaches the side of my breast, his thumb gently reaches out and feels the curve of my swell. A small gasp escapes me, it’s small, but Nico catches it and I can actually see the green in his eyes darken at my response. He’s watching me, taking in my every reaction to his touch and I get the sense that he’s as aroused as I am from his simple touch.

My eyes close when his hand reaches my face. He softly caresses my cheek with his calloused thumb. Gentle, soft, barely a brush. His tender touch makes me feel worshipped and I try to fight back emotion from flooding. It’s my instinct, but it’s a losing battle. One I never surrendered to until now.

I open my eyes and watch as Nico’s eyes drop to my mouth and back again. His head leans down and I think he is finally going to kiss me, but instead he buries his head in my neck and breathes deep, scenting me. He lets out a low growl as he exhales and I swear it makes every hair on my body stand upright. It’s as if an electric current ran from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and I’m frayed from the bolt that shot through me.

Nico draws his head back from my neck and his eyes take mine again. He’s so close to me now, I can’t help but reach up and touch him. My pointer finger slowly comes up and I trace his beautiful full lips with a gentle touch, slowly, etching their shape into my memory. His mouth parts and he takes a deep breath before closing his eyes. I can see he’s straining for control when he reopens them a few seconds later.

It’s incredibly sexy to watch such a strong man so close to losing control. It fuels my need to push him. Push him over the edge of restraint, where his control disappears and the feral male I see lurking beneath takes control. I want to see what it will take to get him there.

After I’m done tracing his lips, I push my finger into his mouth. It’s warm and wet and he takes my invitation. I watch as he gently suckles on my finger at first. I bite down on my own bottom lip as his sucking gets stronger. My eyes tear away from his mouth to find his eyes and he’s still watching me. Watching me watch him. I see a glint in his eye and I catch the corner of his mouth turning upward in a smirk just before he bites down on my finger. Hard. Pain shoots through me mixed with need and desire, and I’m momentarily stunned at his action.

Nico releases my finger and I think I hear him say, “There’s the fire,” and then he’s on me. His mouth covers mine and we fuse together. It’s a desperate kiss, all tongue and slippery, with sucking and biting. One that consumes me the moment it starts and I instantly need more.

My hips mindlessly push up into him and I’m met with hardness. Thick, long, rock-solid hardness. My body trembles at the feel of his arousal so closely against me and another low moan escapes me. I don’t think I’ve ever moaned uncontrollably, but now it pours from a deep place within me. Nico tries to pull his head back, but I wrap my arms tighter around his neck and keep him where I need him.

He manages to free himself from my death grip and pulls his head back slightly. I am just about to complain when he says, “I need to taste all of you.” I seriously think I have a mini orgasm at his words. The thought of his head between my legs sends a wicked shiver down my spine and I wiggle as Nico lifts his weight off me and settles with his head between my thighs.