Page 84 of Who's Saving You
“Getting more wine. Want some?” I turn to him, hand on my hip. His body is rigid, like he’s trying to keep himself under control.
Nik’s eyes rake over me like he’s starving. My breath catches, heat rising to my cheeks, but I don’t look away. His jersey hangs off me, swallowing me whole, but the way he looks at me, I might as well be wearing nothing.
He shrugs out of his jacket, dropping it where he stands. Carefully, he begins to undo his cuffs and rolls his shirt sleeves up. He moves slowly and deliberately, and it sends a pulse low in my belly.
“It’s not wine I want,” his voice rough as he kicks off his shoes.
“Oh? Well, I saw scotch in there, too. Have at it.” I fill my glass, excited at this cat-and-mouse game we’re playing.
He moves slowly toward me. “You still mad at me for leaving?”
“Yeah.” I try to say it with fervor, but it comes out more breathless.
His mouth curves into an amused smile. “Could’ve fooled me.”
I turn my back on him, and before I get two steps away, he's on me. His front covers my back as his hands grip my waist.
“Nik,” I breathe out, some of my wine sloshing over the side of the glass.
“What are you doing to me?”
“What do you mean?” I tilt my head as he nuzzles my neck.
“You know what I mean. You pick a fight, then walk around here with my jersey on, with mynameon your back. Do you know what that does to me?”
“If it bothers you, I’ll buy a Loving jersey,” I say, loaded with sarcasm, and I feel his body tighten. I giggle at the response as I look up, seeing him in the reflection of the mirror in front of me.
His eyes are lasered in on me. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Oh, we’re going to be territorial now? You’re twenty-three years old, Nik. You don’t get to have those feelings.”
He scoffs. “And you’re a thirty-year-old woman, you think you’d know better than to tease me.”
He turns me to face him, and I should push him, shove at his chest, remind him I didn’t ask to be thrown into his world. But when he steps in, takes my glass and puts it down, all I can do is let him. His scent, the jersey, the room, everything about Nik Papas is making me dizzy.
“You’re making it harder and harder for me to leave you.”
“Good.”
He brushes a strand of hair from my face, his fingers grazing my cheek. My skin burns under his touch, and before I can think, I’m clutching at the front of his shirt, pulling him down to me. The kiss is desperate, and it surprises me. He grasps at the hem of the jersey, bunching it and pulling it up, grabbing hold of my waist again. I stand on my tiptoes, trying to get as close as I can, even though he overwhelms me in size.
His teeth graze my bottom lip, and I can’t hold back the sound that slips from me. His eyes darken at the noise, andsuddenly it’s all heat and urgency, every barrier between us slipping away.Again.
“See what you could’ve had instead of running off to chase numbers?”
I want him to realize he doesn’t need to live that life so closely anymore. I shove him back, but with every step he takes, I follow, until he falls onto the loveseat. His eyes never leave mine as I climb onto his lap, my hands braced against the back of the sofa. The night lights spill through the window, stars dancing across the sky.
“Is all of that really more important than right now?”
His hands slide up my thighs, pushing the jersey higher, slowly, enjoying the tease of exposing every inch of my skin. I raise my arms and he pulls the jersey over my head, letting it fall next to us on the loveseat. He grips my waist and pulls me over the hard line of his cock, only his dress pants and my panties between us.
“I have business to handle,” he says.
“You have business here,” I whisper. “Maybe it’s time to focus on just one.”
His eyes hold mine as his hand smooths down my leg. He lifts himself, yanking his pants and boxers down in a well-practiced move. And a moment later, he’s pulling my panties to the side.
“I’m focused,” he says as he grips his cock and lines it up with me. I lean up on my knees, allowing him to play until I sink down on him.
