Sebring
She instantly pulled so far forward, he lost her and his eyes went from his hands under her skirt to her face.
She twisted to her ass, scooting back, her eyes another invitation.
He followed her. Stopping her movements with an arm around her waist, he pulled her up.
She took hold of his dick, guiding him in.
When he caught at her wet, he impaled her.
Driving his other hand in her silky hair, he clutched it and yanked her head to him so he could drive his tongue into her mouth as he fucked her against the headboard.
Fifteen minutes later, they’d both come and he was ass to the bed, back against the headboard, pants up but undone, cock still pulsing but tucked away, eyes on her shimmying her skirt over her panties.
He didn’t say a word, but watching her, he couldn’t beat back his grin.
When he gave that grin to her, her eyes dropped to it and it almost looked like her movements stilled for a second.
But it was only a second before she went to a hand and then knee in the bed to reach him.
She kissed the side of his neck, pulled back, looked into his eyes then pushed off the bed and walked away.
Nick heard the door close right before he heard his own chuckles.
He’d fucked the woman three times.
And she hadn’t spoken a word.
* * * * *
Hotel Teatro, 6:04 The Next Evening
He opened the door and she came through with intent.
Ready for her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, taking a wide step back. He shifted them sideways then pushed her into the wall. He pressed the door closed and flipped the safety latch just as she tried to shove against his hold and get away from the wall.
He let her push him back but went back farther in order to give himself room to do what he intended to do.
Which was what he did.
Lifting her up wrapped around his middle, feeling his lips twitch at the angry, surprised noise she made, he walked her into the room. He swung her around like they were swing dancers doing a lift and she made another noise, this one just surprised, before she landed on her back on the bed.
He landed on her and that was when he heard and felt her breath leave her in a puff.
“Right,” he began. “Let’s start different this time.”
No void expression.
Her eyes were shooting fire.
Not the kind that she wanted to use to brand him.
The kind that told him she was pissed right the fuck off.
Nick again fought laughing.
She said nothing.
He didn’t laugh but he did smile, moving his hand to her face, cupping the side and dropping close.
“Hi,” he whispered.
Her gaze had dropped to his smile but after he said that word, it lifted to his.
He again had the void.
He missed the fire.
But he got her voice.
“Hi,” she whispered back.
Necessarily, due to the fact it was a whisper, it was soft.
Surprisingly, it was a lot more.
Too much more.
He decided that was good enough.
So he slanted his head and took her mouth.
* * * * *
Twenty-two Minutes Later
They’d both climaxed.
Her face in his neck, his cock in her cunt, him on his ass, his legs up, cocooning her, she tried to shift off.
Nick allowed it to a point.
When he was done, he caught her ankle.
She stilled her movements and lifted her eyes to his.
“We’re not done,” he told her.
She held his gaze. She did this for a while.
Then she licked her lips.
After that, she shifted again.
Toward him.
When she got close, he wound his arms around her and took her to her back.
He also took her mouth.
Later, he took something else with his mouth.
And later, for the first time, she took something of his with hers.
He also managed to get all their clothes off and, without a fight, she let him ride her start to phenomenal finish. They took their time, both coming harder and both taking longer to recover because of it.
He left her in bed to hit the bathroom.
She was dressed by the time he came out.
This did not make him happy.
“Olivia—”
She moved quickly to him, lifted a hand and touched her fingers to his lips before they slid across his cheek and hair then down and around the back of his neck.
Only then did she open her mouth to speak.
“Tomorrow, Sebring.”
She started to move away.
He caught her at the waist and hauled her back, angling his head as he did.
As happened often, their tongues collided before their lips did.
They kissed hard and uncompromisingly. Battling. Seizing. Claiming. Going at it. Giving it all they had.
With no one winning.
But still, they both broke contact as the victor.
“Tomorrow,” she repeated, pulled from his hold and walked away.
* * * * *
5:27 The Next Evening
“Don’t go Unka Nick!”
His five-year-old niece, Kasha, was yanking on his hand, her expression set to stubborn, her eyes—Knight’s eyes in a face shaped like Anya’s—irate and trained on him.
He swung her up in his arms and she tried to beat back the giggle but did not succeed.
“I gotta go, princess,” he told her.
She forgot she wasn’t getting what she wanted and she gleamed.
She loved being a princess.
Fuck, he had to stop thinking of Olivia Shade doing princess shit.
Kat and Kasha, his nieces, were his princesses.
Olivia Shade was nothing.
Except a fuck, a really good one…and a means to an end.
“You don’t gotta go. Daddy’s making steaks,” she reminded him.
He looked to Knight who was in the kitchen with his older girl, Kat.