Spice (20 page)

“That's a great idea! And it sounds like you're really excited about it.”

“I am. We're still in the preliminary stages, but Simon's just as into it as I am. I'm going to try to arrange things so I can get back down here soon for a proper planning meeting.”

“Good.” She paused, and when she spoke again her voice was barely a whisper. “Maybe I can go with you next time.”

The offer wasn't made lightly, Kane knew. Nadia had put LA in her rearview and hadn't looked back. The import of her making the offer now, to return with him, wasn't lost on him. “I'd like that.”

He heard her blow out a breath, as if clearing out the emotional weight of her statement. “When do you think you're going to be home?”

“It depends on how late the meetings run tomorrow,” he told her. “If I can, I'll be on the last flight out. But it will more than likely be Saturday morning.”

“If you can come home tomorrow night, you need to come by and get me,” she ordered.

He hesitated, torn between wanting to do exactly that, and needing time to clear the remnants of the consult from his mind before seeing her. “It'll be late, and I'll probably be in a shitty mood.”

“Which is exactly why you should come get me, or just come here and stay the night, then we'll go to your place Saturday morning. I mean it, Kaname. Even if it's just sleeping, we need to be in bed together tomorrow night.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. She had no idea what she did to him, how deeply she had burrowed beneath his skin. “Are you sure I wouldn't be interrupting another thrilling Girls Night Out?”

“It's a Girls Night In, and no, you won't be interrupting,” she answered. “Siobhan's going to come over. We're going to talk a little business then drink a little, eat a lot, and ogle some superhero movie man-candy. By the way, she very graciously gave me permission to kick her to the curb and head out immediately if you come home tomorrow night.”

“Well, if Siobhan gives her blessing . . .”

“That's right, mister,” she teased. “So you'd better come get me.”

“As my lady desires.”

“Speaking of which, there is something else I desire.”

“Oh?” He settled back into the pillows. “What's that?”

Huskiness threaded through her voice. “I desire . . . to know what you're wearing.”

He smiled at the teasing note in her voice. “A sheet.”

“Only the sheet?”

“The sheet and blanket,” he clarified. “And my boxers.”

“Are you hard, Kaname?”

The soft question made him instantly, undeniably hard. “I am now.”

“Good,” she purred. “Push the bedclothes down.”

Intrigued, he did as she demanded, kicking the covers aside. “Okay.”

“What color are your boxers?” she wanted to know.

“Red.”

“Nice.” He heard her take a deep breath. “I'm imagining you lying there in your boxers,” she whispered. “Imagining you sliding your hand down your chest then beneath your waistband, gripping your waiting cock. Can you do that for me?”

“Done,” he said, adding a hiss of pleasure as he firmed his grip on his shaft.

“Stroke it,” she breathed. “Stroke it like I'm stroking myself right now.”

“You are?” His breath caught as he fell under the spell her words wove.

“Yes,” she confessed. “It's why I called you, so we can give each other permission to come.”

“What do you think of to get worked up?”

“We're in bed together,” she said softly. “I've got my back against the headboard, and you're sitting up near the end of the bed. You have your cock in your hand and I've got my fingers on my clit. We're matching each other stroke for stroke.”

She released a sigh ripe with unfulfilled desire. “I think watching each other stroke off would be extremely hot.”

“God, Nadia!” He had to pinch off to suppress the urge to come. They should have had phone sex long before now. “What other fantasies do you have?”

“I'm on my back on the bed, looking up at you,” she said after a moment, her words breathy. “I love watching your face. I love how the pleasure takes you over. Your eyes light up with an inner fire, and your lips part when you're close to coming. You're watching me touch my breasts and stroke myself while you're slowly and deeply taking my ass.”

“Fuck.” His hips were moving now, lifting off the bed, pushing his cock through his fist, making him wish it were Nadia's tight sheath gripping him. “You want that?” he ground out. “You want me to take you like that?”

“I want to try,” she admitted breathlessly. “A cock is different than a finger.”

“Damn, Nadia—you've got me on the edge of coming!”

“I am too. I'm wishing that your cock was inside me, stroking so deep and fast when we're right there, right at the moment, and then you fill me up—”

She broke off with the signature moan that let him know she was coming. A few more rapid strokes and he joined her, spurting into his boxers like a horny teen, her name a deep groan on his lips.

A long while later he heard her voice calling him from far away. “Kaname?”

He fumbled for his phone, lifted it back to his ear. “Do you realize how incredibly sexy you are?”

Her laughter, rich and a little shaky, filled his ear. “So are you, Professor. I wanted to provide enough incentive to make sure you come over as soon as you get back.”

He got up to head to the bathroom to clean up. “If I have to rent a car and drive, I'm coming for you tomorrow night.”

“Excellent.” She yawned. “Then my job here is done. I'm going to sleep well tonight, that's for sure. Sweet dreams, Kaname.”

“They will be now. Good night, Nadia.”

He put down the phone then braced himself against the sink, his mind unable to focus on anything other than Nadia. She was exactly what he'd needed, exactly when he'd needed it. Her laughter, her smile, her sweet body shredded every bit of stress, every clump of darkness. Being with her for the last few weeks had caused a fundamental shift in his universe, a change in direction from where he thought he needed to be to where he wanted to be.

Finally, he mustered enough energy to clean up, pull on fresh underwear, then fall back into bed. With his heartbeat back to normal and sleep embracing him, a simple truth came to him: Nadia Spiceland was quickly becoming the most important thing in his life.

“Y
ou need to start dating.”

Nadia placed a tray with dessert and two steeping teapots—one of chrysanthemum tea for Siobhan, and a Sencha green for herself—on the coffee table. The remnants of their margherita pizza had been put away, and the second superhero movie rumbled away in the background.

“I'm not taking your bait,” Siobhan said evenly, snagging a plate of double-dutch chocolate pie from the tray. “One would think you'd be bored by now and stop trying.”

“I'm not trying to bait you. Much,” Nadia replied, settling in on the other end of the couch. “I refuse to believe you don't have any prospects, not with the fan club your alter ego has.”

“Oh no, you don't,” Siobhan laughed. “That's so not going to happen.”

“Yes, it is.” Nadia poured a serving of her tea, added a dollop of honey. “We just need to narrow the list to the best candidates for the job. What possible reason could you have to not want to have some sexy-times of your own? And if the word
age
comes out of your mouth, I'm taking your dessert.”

Siobhan directed a scowl her way. “You're a right beyotch when you're getting it on the regular, you know.”

Nadia laughed, ignoring Siobhan's sour tone. “Which is why you need to jump on one of your fanboys like yesterday.” She took a sip of her tea, then added another measure of honey. Kane would probably flip over the way she was destroying the flavor of a good Japanese tea, and she smiled to herself at the thought.

“Why are you smiling at my misery?” Siobhan demanded, her scowl deepening.

“Eat your chocolate, and I'll tell you.” She waited until her partner took the first mouthful of the double-dutch chocolate pie which had nothing Dutch in it. “Your misery is self-inflicted. Why would you deny yourself the opportunity to have a basic human need met?”

“You know why.” Siobhan returned her half-eaten dessert to the coffee table.

“Colleen.” Nadia sat back with a sigh. Siobhan's daughter was the epitome of a difficult child, wrapped in an eighteen-year-old's body. Colleen only showed up when she wanted something from her mother, preying on Siobhan's guilt and dangling the carrot of reconciliation. Then she'd fly into a rage over some perceived slight and stomp off again, leaving Nadia to patch Siobhan's heart back together afterwards.

In fact, the only time she and Siobhan had come close to a knock-down, drag-out fight was a year ago when Siobhan had wanted to hire Colleen to work in the café for the summer. Nadia had seen the trouble brewing in Colleen's eyes and had refused. Her refusal hadn't gone over well. Siobhan had overridden her, and when Jas had caught Colleen stealing from the register, Colleen had blamed Siobhan, Nadia had blown up, and their partnership had teetered on the edge of dissolution.

“Siobhan,” Nadia said slowly, choosing her words with care. “Are you saying that you don't even want to try dating because things are still unsettled with Colleen?”

Siobhan's shoulders stiffened. “There's always a chance things will work out with her.”

“I know. I certainly hope so.” Nadia injected every bit of sincerity she could into her words. “I want you to come to some sort of resolution with your daughter, if only so you can move forward.”

“I am moving forward,” Siobhan insisted. “Every day I'm not reaching for a bottle of pills is a move forward.”

“Siobhan.” Nadia stopped, her throat closing off with the threat of tears. “You can't put your life on hold waiting for Colleen to straighten out hers.”

“I know that!”

“Do you?” she pressed. “You think being by yourself is your way of doing penance for leaving your daughter and husband because of drugs. When are you going to stop punishing yourself, Siobhan? When are you going to realize that you have to live life now?”

“I am living my life now.” Tension squeezed every bit of inflection from Siobhan's voice. “I have the café. I have my burlesque shows. And I have my friends who seem to relish giving me a hard time.”

“Bitch Talk doesn't only happen on Tuesdays, you know,” Nadia reminded her. “You perform once a month. The café takes up enough of your time, which is why we've been talking about interviewing for a manager to free up some of your time in the office. I think we should move up that timetable. As for your friends, you know we're behind you, giving you all the emotional support we can. We can't give you everything though, and you know that. You need more. We all need more. We can't emotionally starve ourselves because we might get hurt or hurt others. That's not living.”

“Dammit, Nadia.” Siobhan wiped at her eyes. “Where did you learn all this touchy-feely self-help crap?”

“From a certain blonde bombshell who decided she was going to be my friend even though I didn't want one.”

“You wanted one, you just didn't want to admit it.”

“You saw right through me. Saw me true. And just recently you told me that I had my whole life ahead of me and I couldn't spend it elbow-deep in pastry dough.”

“Me and my big mouth,” Siobhan groused. “If I promise to think about acquiring a living, breathing sex toy, will you quit bitching at me?”

“For a little while,” Nadia promised, relieved. “Just let me point out that there's nothing wrong with having a fling. A woman's got needs, darn it.”

“Speaking of a woman's needs, when is the professor coming home?”

Nadia's good humor dissolved. “He's supposed to come home tonight, but it's possible he might not be back until tomorrow.”

“Is whatever he's working on in Los Angeles not going well?”

“I don't know. He doesn't want to talk about it, which to me means it's very, very bad.” She reached for her phone. She hadn't heard from Kane in hours, and it worried her. Not that he hadn't contacted her, but that he was probably dealing with something unpleasant that required his complete concentration, and it was that something that worried her. He'd seemed so subdued yesterday, so unlike the man she'd come to know and appreciate. His energy had quickly changed thanks to a little phone sex, and she was glad to have been able to do that for him. She had the feeling it was going to take something a little more live and in person to ease his burden this time.

She thumbed her phone out of sleep mode, then sent him a text.
Hi! Are you going to make it back to the Bay tonight?

It was a long while before he responded.
I'm on the last plane out. Boarding soon.

Something about the phrasing of his text bothered her. This one didn't feel as teasing as most of his other exchanges with her. It made her wonder again what sort of consult he was doing in Los Angeles. Her overactive imagination provided all sorts of details for what sort of heinous crime he'd been asked to offer his expertise on. She knew a good bit about the grime that lay beneath the glitter that made up Tinseltown. What must it be like to have to see the results of that day in, day out for a living? How did Kane handle it? How did anyone?

It was ridiculous trying to interpret the emotional tone of a text message, but Nadia did it anyway. Those few simple words told her that the day hadn't gone as well as the previous one, which she already knew hadn't been stellar.

She showed Siobhan the text message. “Am I being paranoid, or is that not a good sign?”

Worry crossed her friend's face. “It might be nothing, but I think you need to ask him directly to know for sure.”

She hesitated before sending him another text, not wanting to bother him but needing to know how he was doing.
Are you still coming here when you land?

She waited, clutching the phone, her heart pounding. The longer it took him to respond, the more worried she became. What the hell was going on in LA?

No.

She stared at her screen, surprised at the bright shaft of pain that speared her. Kane wasn't coming to get her. He didn't want to see her.

Before she could clear away the crushing disappointment enough to think of a proper response, a chime signaled another incoming text.
Sorry. Exhausted, sweetheart. Heading straight home when I land. Will see you tomorrow.

The tightness in her chest eased. It wasn't as if he was breaking up with her. He simply didn't want to see her tonight.

Siobhan took the phone from her hand then scanned the last of the conversation. “Son of a bitch. At least he realized how fucking harsh that one-word answer was, even though his explanation is lame.” She glanced at Nadia. “Are you okay?”

“No.” She shook her head for emphasis. “And neither is he. Something's not right, and I need to find out what it is.”

“What are you going to do?”

Whatever was happening with Kane, it wasn't good. She wished she could have screwed up her courage and gone with him, even if she couldn't have been by his side every moment of his day. She could have been waiting for him in his hotel room when he returned, waiting to hug him and kiss him and take him away from the pressures of the world for a while. Waiting to be there for him as he'd been there for her with Audie.

The answer was simple. “I'm going to wait for him at his condo.”

Siobhan frowned at her, uncertain. “Are you sure that's a good idea?”

“No, but if I accept that text at face value, I'll end up sitting here for the rest of the night wondering and worrying about what's going on with him.”

“Waiting had never been your style.”

“Exactly. I have to see for myself that he's okay.”

“Good for you. Way to grab the bull by the horns.”

“Or the Kane by the balls.” She stood, gathering the remnants of their tea and dessert. “Either way, he's dealing with me tonight.”

They quickly cleaned up, then Nadia grabbed her already-packed overnight bag and followed Siobhan down to the parking deck. Siobhan slid into her fire-engine red Falcon convertible in the guest spot. The vintage car suited Siobhan and her burlesque personality, and she often did car shows in full sixties costume.

“Are you sure you're going to be okay?” the blonde asked as she started her engine.

“As sure as I can be about anything,” Nadia answered, opening the passenger door on her MINI Cooper and tossing her bag inside. Every instinct told her that Kane's place was where she needed to be, but what if her instincts were wrong?

“Call me if you need me,” Siobhan demanded. “Otherwise I'll assume the reunion went as planned.”

“Will do. Thanks, Siobhan.”

“You're welcome,” her best friend said. “Good luck.”

Nadia climbed into her car and started the engine. Drawing a fortifying breath, she pulled out of her space and headed for Kane's. Something told her she'd need much more than luck tonight.

In no time at all she completed the short drive to Kane's, punched in the gate code, and made her way to guest parking. Still questioning herself, Nadia made her way to his door, dropped her bag onto the floor, then tucked her skirt around her legs before sliding to the ground beside it. She figured she had another half hour to wait until he came home. Hopefully her fingernails would survive.

What had happened? All sorts of scenarios ran through her mind. She hadn't known Kane all that long, but she knew him to be an even-keeled sort of guy. What was he dealing with that would impact him like this? Knowing the serial rapist case that had made him a household name, she could only imagine the horrific images he'd been confronted with. If that was the reason he'd withdrawn from her—and that's what she felt like, no matter his intent—then in her mind that was even more reason to see him.

Yet as the minutes ticked by, more doubts kicked in as she began to question herself. If he'd had as bad a day as she imagined, would he want to see her on his doorstep? What if the last thing he wanted to deal with was an obnoxious girlfriend who couldn't handle rejection?

Girlfriend. She almost laughed aloud at the way she'd labelled herself. She and Kane had agreed they were in a relationship, but what they were to each other, what she felt toward him, was way more than the term
girlfriend
could contain. He'd seen her ugly cry and hadn't run screaming. He knew she was a recovering addict, and hadn't blinked at that either. Maybe he didn't truly understand all that being a drug addict who didn't do drugs entailed, but he was supportive and treated her normally, both acts which were worth their weight in gold.

Kane had gone above and beyond for her, had been there when the last thing she thought she'd wanted was for him to witness her meltdown. The very least she could do was do the same for him. More than that, though, was the realization that the thought of him being sad or hurt, hurt her. It hurt just as much as Siobhan's pain hurt her, just as much as Audie's pain had hurt. Maybe even more. If she were wrong, if she ended up being the fool, she'd be all right with that because she'd rather have come over and been proven wrong, than stayed at home and been proven right.