Dangerous Secrets (14 page)

Charity had no illusions about the two of them, as a couple. There was nothing here to tie Nick down. He had money, looks, health. A bachelor pad in Manhattan. Potent male charm. Charisma. He was a superb lover.

The world was his oyster.

There was no reason whatsoever for him to stick here with a small-town librarian who led a quiet life and was responsible for two elderly, frail relatives who tethered her as much as—perhaps more than—two small children would have.

Charity’s life was circumscribed, hemmed in on all sides. His was not. It was wide open.

So, he’d be going soon. He might even be gone by Thursday, and maybe she’d just humiliated herself in vain, asking Vassily for this favor for a man who wouldn’t even be here.

It was just that the thought of an evening without Nick, even one of Vassily’s musical soirées, which she ordinarily loved, was painful in the extreme. Which meant, of course, that she was in for a great deal of pain in the very near future.

Parker’s Ridge
November 21

She was thinking about him—mooning over him, really—when all of a sudden, like magic, there he was.

Nick.
Her
Nick. Such a delicious thought, however much she chided herself for it.

Her Nick.

He wasn’t hers, or if he was, it was just temporary, but still. It sounded so nice.

It had been a very slow day at the library. The snow had stopped around noon but the sullen pewter sky promised more, once the temperature dropped at nightfall. The few people venturing out of their warm houses and offices did so for reasons more pressing than to return a library book.

Coming in this morning had almost been a shock after the intense weekend of sex and intimacy with Nick, the two of
them cocooned in her house, closed off from the outside world.

The weekend had changed her, inside and out. She felt like a completely different woman. She even moved like a different woman, a woman who’d had more sex in the past forty-eight hours than in the past eight years.

Everything about her felt different. Every time she moved, she felt her body. And she actually
felt
her vagina. It was a little bit of soreness, yes—he was big, after all—but more than anything else, it was an intense awareness of the area between her thighs. Just amazing. It was a part of her anatomy she never, ever thought about, neatly tucked away up inside her body. Oh, she had the odd tingle reading a hot romance or watching her favorite actors. George Clooney would do it every time.

But this was completely different. She
felt
it. All of it, deep inside her body and when she moved, it was as if she could still feel Nick, hard and hot inside her.

Her breasts felt heavy and supersensitive. She had on a lace bra she’d worn at least fifty times before without even thinking about it. Today, she could feel the pattern of the lace against her breasts, and her nipples rubbed against the bra. Nick sucked her nipples often and they’d become supersensitized, too.

But it wasn’t just a question of her erogenous zones, though of course they’d been revved up beyond anything she’d ever experienced. No, it was odd bits of her body coming to life that surprised her.

Her ankles. There, neat and tidy at the end of her legs. She never thought about them, ever. And yet last night, Nick had kissed them over and over again, saying he’d never seen a prettier pair and ever since then, she caught herself looking down at her ankles and smiling.

Her neck. Wow. That had turned out to be one of her top erogenous zones. Who knew? Nick had somehow known. Every time he put his lips to that one particular spot under her ear, she broke out in goose bumps.

She was thinking about that, about the lazy way he’d licked her neck this morning, while his thumb rubbed over her nipple, when she saw Nick, appearing suddenly out of the icy mist.

She was staring dreamily out the big library window, thinking of him and for a moment, it was almost like a scene out of a movie.

The big, handsome man, black haired and blue eyed, tall and strong, striding out from the mist. He walked like a gunslinger, loose and lanky, big heavy coat swirling around his legs, looking right and then left, checking out the situation. He was always intensely aware of his surroundings, more like a sentry or a soldier than a businessman.

Watching him appear out of the mist, for a second she thought
What a looker.
And then, in an intense burst of pride, she thought
That looker’s mine. For the time being, ladies, hands off because that one’s mine.

As he crossed the street, Nick looked up and met her gaze and Charity’s breath froze in her chest.

Time slowed, stilled. Her heartbeat thickened, sounded loud in her ears. She watched him, utterly unable to move, as he crossed the street. Long-legged strides, hands deep in his overcoat, hatless. He walked directly under the streetlamp and his hair shone blue-black in the feeble light.

Each stride was met with an equal
thump
in her chest as he came closer, closer, never taking his gaze from hers through the big plate-glass window of the library.

As Charity watched him watching her, her body automati
cally readied itself for him. Her skin felt feverish, prickly. Her blood pulsed thickly through her veins, in time with his strides. The muscles in her groin tightened, the muscles in her belly clenched. Her breasts felt hot and swollen, pushing against her bra. She could feel the inner muscles of her sheath softening, growing moist.

Did he know what was happening to her body?

Nick looked grim, jaw muscles clenching, eyes never leaving hers. His eyes were glowing, a mystical cobalt blue that penetrated deep inside her skull.

For a second he disappeared and then he was at the door, pulling it open to let a gust of cold air enter. She welcomed the burst of cold air moving over her skin, cooling it, because when he walked through the door, she felt a blast of internal heat so intense it was like walking in front of a furnace.

Nick didn’t break his stride and he didn’t greet her. He took in the empty library in a glance then took her elbow in his hand, propelling her toward the back.

His grip didn’t hurt but it was unbreakable. Charity found herself scrambling to keep up with him.

They were at the back before she could gather her wits about her.

“Nick? What are you—ah
…
”

What he was doing became clear as he herded her into the supply room and closed the door. There was only a dim 20-watt lightbulb high up in the ceiling but it was certainly enough to see his expression by.

Her heart rate kicked up.

Nick advanced slowly and she backed away. Not out of fear but out of excitement at the heat in his eyes. She stopped when her back hit the wall and, a second later, Nick’s hands slapped against the wall on either side of her head.

His head moved down as her eyelids drifted closed. Her head fell back, tipped against the wall. She expected one of his bone-melting kisses, but he stopped just before fitting his mouth to hers. She could feel his hot breath washing over her face.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he whispered.

Charity smiled without opening her eyes. “Hello,” she whispered back.

“Did you miss me?”

Every cell in her body had missed him. “You have no idea.”

Nick leaned in, pressing his entire body against hers. “Oh yeah,” he said softly. “I have an idea.”

His freezing overcoat was a shock against Charity’s bare overheated skin. Her shins, wrists, cheeks. Nick leaned even more heavily against her, shuffling his feet between hers, so she was forced to widen her stance.

He gathered her skirt in his big, cold hands and started pulling it up, bare knuckles icy against her thighs. Charity clutched the lapels of his overcoat for balance.

She didn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t. Everything in her was concentrated inward, on all the sensations evoked by his heavy, strong, cold body.

The heat burning her up inside and the contrasting chill against her skin. The soft cashmere of the coat contrasting with the roughness of his hands.

Her skirt started hiking up and she could feel the cold of his clothes against her thighs.

He was pressing against her so hard now that she could feel his erection through the layers of clothes, hers and his. He was huge.

She gave a half laugh. “You were thinking about this.”

He nuzzled her neck. “Oh yeah,” he breathed.

Charity shifted a little, brushing her mound against the erection, feeling it grow even longer, thicker. Oh God, this was so exciting!

“You were—” She took a deep breath as he nipped at the skin behind her ear. “You were thinking about this in the
snow
?”

His nose was in her hair, mouth against her ear. Charity could actually feel his breath break when he discovered she was wearing thigh-highs. His hand froze as his penis leaped against her.

She’d put them on this morning, knowing she’d be cold when she left the library, but also knowing it would excite him when they got home.

It never ever occurred to her that he’d discover them in the
library!

“God.” His hands found the bare skin between the tops of the stockings and her panties. They were warmer now. Not even a Vermont winter could keep Nick cold for long. “You wore these to drive me crazy, didn’t you?”

“Mmm.”
Actually, yes.

His hand cupped her, middle finger pressing lightly, the silk a thin layer against her opening and she shuddered, the movement evoking another surge from him against her.

“For the record, it’s working.”

He kept his hand there, warm now, hot even. Just the pressure of his hand against her made her thighs clench.

He was kissing her now, slow, deep kisses, licking her tongue, her teeth in slow movements, echoed by his hand against her, stroking slowly.

She felt him everywhere, pressing against her, smelling of snow and pine and Nick. Then the smell of sex bloomed in
the room after he unzipped his pants, the sound soft in the dusty room, as his penis sprang out.

Charity wanted to open her eyes and see him. She loved the sight of it—a hard column with thick veins in an unruly nest of curly black hair. But her eyes wouldn’t open, not while he kissed her so deeply.

Nick pried her right hand away from his coat and curled it around him. She couldn’t see him but boy, she could feel him. Everything about him tightened when she touched him. His penis became, impossibly, even longer and thicker. His heart beat hard and fast, and she could feel the heartbeat, right there in her hand. Her thumb covered the huge, rounded head and he wept for her, too.

Such power, she had.

Then Nick tugged sharply, tearing her panties right off, and his finger slid inside her and she gasped, legs trembling. Oh God, he had power, too.

His finger stretched her, mimicking the movements of his tongue in her mouth and she whimpered.

The smell of sex was suddenly stronger in the air–her arousal and his. He’d touched her for only a minute, but she was soft and wet. His finger penetrated with ease. She’d been thinking about him all day. And all day her body had been primed for this.

Nick withdrew his finger, running the tip around her opening, preparing her.

“You’ve been thinking about me, too, honey.” Another slow penetration, withdrawal. She ached with emptiness when his hand pulled away altogether. “Haven’t you?”

He was asking her something. She had no idea what. But with Nick touching her like this, there was only one possible answer.

“Yes.”

He shuddered. She felt it all through her own body.

A ripping, crinkling sound and he had protection on. His kisses were wilder now, so deep she almost couldn’t breathe, and had to breathe through him. His own breaths heated her cheek and she could feel his wide chest rising and falling at a faster rhythm.

“Lift your leg,” he whispered, running his hand down the back of her thigh. Charity obeyed, as he helped her curl her leg around his, opening herself completely to him.

He had to bend his knees slightly to fit himself to her opening, swirling himself around her, trying to go slow.

She could feel his tight control in his hands, slow and trembling, in the drop of sweat running down his temple, in his harsh breathing. He pressed a little inside her and she clenched around him.

“Jesus,” he breathed. Another drop of sweat fell. “It has to be hard and fast, honey, because I’m about ready to blow. I really have been thinking about this all day. Had a woody, too. Really uncomfortable, let me tell you.”

Charity let out a burst of laughter, charmed at the thought of him negotiating business deals with an erection. Her laughter was cut short when he entered her completely in one hard thrust.

Charity’s eyes opened wide, staring into his, an inch away. His eyes were narrowed, staring at her intently. A muscle twitched in his jaw.

“Fuck. Sorry.” He took a second to catch his breath. “Did I hurt you? Honey?” He frowned when she didn’t answer. “Charity answer me. Did I hurt you?”

She could barely hear him, his voice distant, as if he were a thousand miles away, instead of pressing against her, up
in
her. She was totally caught up with what was happening inside her, tightly wound, everything in her circling inward, hardly able to breathe. All the nerve endings between her thighs were on fire as she clenched and clenched again around the huge, hard rod inside her.

He pressed a little harder and the tension broke. The world spun away, everything inside her got tighter and tighter until, with a little cry, she began coming in long hard pulls, as if her body were trying to entice him even more deeply inside her.

“Shit!”
Nick’s entire body jerked in surprise and he started moving in her, short, hard jabs, completely unlike the easy, long rhythms of his normal lovemaking.

Both his hands were cupped around her bottom, holding her up to him as his tight, hard strokes banged her against the wall. He swelled inside her, his movements becoming irregular, almost frantic and then he started coming, too, teeth and jaws tightly clenched against a moan, a lock of raven-black hair falling over his damp forehead, tapping against his skin with each hard movement.

Charity softened, her contractions slowing down, her muscles turning lax. The only thing holding her up was his chest pressed against hers, his hands on her buttocks, and his penis inside her. Her arms dropped. She didn’t even have the energy to hold on to him.

There was a faint noise, a clattering sound, which she couldn’t decipher. It was only when she felt cold air against the sole of her foot that she realized she’d lost a shoe.

It was the only place she was cold. Every other part of her was steaming hot, particularly where he was still inside her. He had softened a little after his climax, but not much. He was still hard inside her and it felt like flameless fire.

“My God,” he muttered. “That was—” He blew out a breath. “Well.”

“Absolutely,” she whispered. She couldn’t have said it better herself.