She took another deep breath and dropped her eyes back to her fingers where the fiddled with my shirt sleeve.
“It reminds me of…of…” She didn’t finish the sentence.
“Him?” I whispered.
Nicole nodded.
I looked at her eyes and tried to figure out just exactly what I was supposed to do. I told her I would protect her, and I wasn't going to back down—not from that. I wasn't going to put up with anyone giving her any kind of grief for anything. Not Clint, not Crystal, not anyone.
But I didn't want to remind her of that guy in Minneapolis, either. I definitely did not want that, but what else could I do to make sure she was safe? What could I do to keep her happy here?
“I said I'd make everything okay for you,” I reminded her. “How else am I supposed to do that?”
“You already do,” she said softly.
Now I was really confused.
“But you're telling me not to do that anymore!”
“You don't have to go after other people to make everything feel all right,” she said. “You do that just by…by being here.”
I had said it before, and I would continue to say it: girls made no sense whatsoever.
“I don't understand,” I admitted.
“Remember when we were here, and I was upset the other night?” she asked. “Remember when you just hugged me?”
I raised an eyebrow at her.
“Okay…you do remember.” She took a deep breath and let it out through her nose in a huff. “Just doing that made it better, and when I was…upset with what you had done with my locker and…and you took me outside and held on to me—that made me feel better, too. You didn't have to beat someone up to make me feel better. You fixed it just be being there for me.”
I wanted to argue with her and tell her the only reason I could do that was because I had already taken care of the kids at school so they wouldn't bother her again, but I was captivated by her eyes instead. The way she was looking at me…so intensely…it made my heart start pounding in my chest again.
That look was what did it. As soon as my eyes met hers, I knew immediately that I was done for. I would do absolutely anything she asked if she would just keep looking at me like that. Was that all it took? Just being there for her? I didn't even know what that really meant, but I did know at that instant that she had me—heart and soul. I could feel it in my mind and every aching muscle in my body.
“Anything,” I whispered. I slipped my other hand around the back of her head and pulled her to me. I pressed my lips to her warm mouth, and I kissed her over and over again. I felt her fingers grip on to my arm, and the nails biting slightly into my skin felt wonderful. I broke away for a moment, murmuring against her lips. “I'd do anything for you…anything you want. Just tell me what you need because I don't know what to do.”
She smiled down at me for a long moment before speaking again.
“Are you tired?”
I shrugged and shook my head against the pillow.
“I had a pretty decent nap today,” I reminded her. “Are you tired?”
“Not so much,” she said, and she kissed me again.
I had no idea how long we had been lying there in Nicole’s bed, facing each other and making out. I hadn’t looked at the clock for a while, and my brain was far more interested in keeping track of the feel of Rumple’s lips on mine than it was on how long we’d been at it. If I really wanted to know, I could always figure it out later.
I found a nice, soft, warm spot of skin at the place where Nicole’s neck and shoulder came together and sucked lightly on it. I didn’t do it hard enough to leave a mark—her skin was too perfect to be marred like that. Nicole’s fingers made little trails down my arm all the way to my wrist and then back up again. I traced my fingers against her side, pushing the hem of her T-shirt up a little.
I danced the tips of my fingers along the skin on her side. I drew little circles and then a few other shapes as I tasted the skin of her neck and shoulder. Nicole jumped a little as I hit a ticklish spot, and I smiled into her skin.
Her hand pushed against my shoulder, and she rolled me away from her and onto my back. Before I could protest, she tossed one leg over me and straddled my stomach.
“You should take your shirt off,” she said. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip.
“Oh, really?” I replied with raised eyebrows. She nodded, and I could see her cheeks tinge with pink in the glow of her bedside lamp. I flexed my back and brought myself up just enough to pull my shirt over my head.
I watched my Rumple’s mouth turn up in a sly smile as she glanced from my face to my chest. She reached out and started with her fingers at my shoulders before they slowly traced down—over my pecs, brushing against my nipples, and then to my stomach. Her touch was light and brought goose bumps out on my arms. When she circled my navel with her finger and then followed the thin line of hair below it, I had to pull up my knees to keep her from sliding any farther back. If she did, she was definitely going to notice the effect she was having on my body.
She glanced from where her hand was resting on my stomach to my eyes. She was breathing a little heavier, and my heart was practically making my chest jump up and down. I was torn between wanting to flip her over and bury myself in her as quickly as possible and wanting to make sure I didn’t push her into anything she wasn’t ready to do. I was pretty sure if I did that, this relationship would be over.
I was going to let her lead.
I licked my lips quickly and gripped her hips with my hands, hoping to keep them steady. With my fingers, I found that spot where the hem of her shirt met her sweatpants. I touched the soft skin of her sides, spreading my fingers out to reach more of her.
Nicole leaned down and touched my lips with hers, kissing me hard as her tongue tangled with mine. Her hands roamed over my chest again, and I used my fingers to creep up her sides a bit more. I stopped before I got to the bottom curve of her tits because I was feeling far too good to press my luck.
I was ready for anything she wanted—she could have all of me or just some of me—whatever made her happy.
That was when, without breaking our kiss, Nicole’s fingers left my chest and ran all the way down my arms. When she reached my hands, I was expecting her to push them back down and away from the tender, soft flesh they wanted to touch so badly. I even started to slide them back down myself, but she gripped my fingers and pushed them up until I was cupping both of her glorious, soft breasts.
I thought Shakespeare would have agreed that “We are such stuff as dreams are made on.” Somehow, I was going to have to keep myself from going too far.
Now, was she going to let me get my mouth on the girls as well?
CHAPTER 17
INTERCEPT
In case there was any doubt, Nicole's tits were absolutely perfect. They fit perfectly into my hands. Her nipples hardened perfectly against my palms. They were perfectly soft and round and just...just perfect.
Nicole moaned into my mouth as my thumbs and forefingers rolled her nipples between them. The sound alone made me want to buck my hips up against her, but I restrained myself even though I could feel her pushing her heat against my stomach.
I sat up a little and rolled us back to our sides. I kept one of my hands on her breast under her shirt, and I kissed her a couple more times before I pulled both my mouth and my hand away.
“We should stop,” I said quietly as I tried to regain my breath.
“Why?” Nicole pouted.
“Well, the door is still open,” I pointed out. “I really don't want to see Greg's head peek in while I've got my hand up your shirt. Besides…I don't want to…to push.”
“You aren't,” she told me.
“I will if we keep this up,” I said. I propped myself up on my elbow and looked down at her. “I want you. I really, really do. I don't know how to do this boyfriend thing, though. I don't want to…fuck it up.”
Nicole smiled and reached u
p to stroke her fingers over my jaw.
“All right,” she said.
We both settled back down on the bed, and I wrapped my arm around her waist. She started pushing the hair off my face and around my ear again.
“I love the way that feels,” I told her.
“What?” Nicole asked. She tugged a bit at my hair before she tucked it behind my ear. “This?”
“Yeah. It feels good.”
She giggled into my shoulder and kept up the motion as I felt myself starting to drift off. My mind cycled through the day—my run, workout, the picnic lunch with Nicole. I listened to the highlights of the game in my brain and shook my head a little at the weird dream I had. It was strange that I remembered it at all—dreams were the one thing I didn't usually recall. I relived the spicy taste of Nicole's taco salad and the laughter over Greg's fishing exploits.
It was a good day.
I drifted off.
I woke to Greg's voice.
“Nicole? I gotta go into the station this morning,” he was saying. “A bunch of kids got picked up at the beach last night, and I need to go calm some parents.”
“Okay, Dad,” Nicole's sleepy voice said.
“I should be back this afternoon.”
“'Kay.”
I listened to the thump of his feet on the stairs and the opening and closing of the front door. The house went silent, save for Nicole's yawns. I looked over at the clock, and saw it was still pretty early—just past seven thirty, and I was glad Sundays were my off-days for workouts.
I pulled Nicole's body close to mine and tucked my face into her hair. She squirmed and giggled a little then tried to push my hand away from her stomach. I held tight, grumbling, and wrapped my other arm around her as well.
“Thomas!” Nicole cried. “Let me go!”
“No way,” I told her. “You're warm.”
She laughed again.
“I have to pee!”
With a big, overly dramatic sigh, I released her, and she ran off to the bathroom. When she was done, I took my turn and then pulled her back into bed with me. We lay in bed while half asleep before hunger finally drove us from the blankets.
We ate and then decided we really ought to get some work done on our biology project. After a lot of debate and orgasm jokes, we decided to do our research on the creosote bush. I made about a dozen “bush” jokes, but Nicole said the plant reminded her of visiting her grandparents in Arizona, so that's what we were going to study. At first, we tried pulling up information on her computer, but the damn thing was ancient, took forever to load, and the dial-up connection was driving me fucking bonkers.
“We should just do this at my place,” I mumbled.
“Okay,” Nicole said to my surprise. “I've never seen your house.”
I tensed up a bit. I'd never taken anyone to my house. Even the guys on my team had only been on the outside of it. Just the thought of it put me on edge immediately though I wasn't sure why. I didn't have a valid reason to say no, so the next thing I knew, we were in my car and heading to my house.
Even the front door seemed ominous to me as we walked up the steps.
“This house is incredible,” Nicole exclaimed as I fished out my key.
“It's okay,” I replied. I opened the door, and we walked in.
“Do I get a tour?” Nicole asked.
Was I supposed to give tours?
“Um…okay,” I said. I ran my hand through my hair. “This is the kitchen—you know, where we eat and shit.”
“You shit in the kitchen? That's not very hygienic!”
“That's not what I meant!” I laughed along with her. “This is the, um…living room, I guess. Or great room—whatever you are supposed to call it.”
“Who plays?” she asked, and I froze.
She was gesturing at the piano.
“Um…no one,” I replied, and I tried to steer her off toward the stairs.
“You have a grand piano that no one plays?” she asked. She held on to my hand but kept her feet planted. Her voice lowered. “Did your mom play?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Um…she taught piano.”
“Did you learn?”
“Yeah.”
“But you don't play anymore?”
“No.” I could feel a tiny droplet of sweat at the back of my neck.
“Why not?” she asked quietly.
I looked at her eyes, and she reached up to touch my face.
“Too many memories?”
I just nodded.
“I'm sorry,” she said.
I gave her a tight-lipped smile and then led her down the hall and up the stairs, pointing out the various guest rooms that no one used, the bathroom, and Dad's study.
“Is that where the computer is?” she asked as she looked at the closed door.
“No,” I replied. “I never go in there. I have a laptop in my room. Last door down the hall.”
I took her into my room and tried not to dance from foot to foot as she looked over everything in it. She ran her fingers along the edges of the CDs, pulled one out, and then carefully pushed it back to where it was before as I let out a sigh of relief.
“I won't mess anything up,” she said with a wry smile.
I tried to laugh.
“Sorry,” I said. “I just…I've never had anyone in here before.”
“No one?”
“Not outside my family, no.”
She gave me a strange look and then went back to her surveillance.
“You have a lot of trophies,” she said. The tip of her finger traced my name on an MVP award from freshman year. She looked around for another minute and then sat down on the edge of my couch. “So where's the computer?”
I grabbed the laptop from its shelf in the closet and pulled out a small, folding table from beside the couch. I set the laptop on it, and we started our research again at top internet speed. After a couple hours, Nicole said she was hungry.
“Should we go back to your place?” I asked.
“Don't you have food?” she teased.
“Um…some,” I said. “Considering what you tend to make, I don't know if you would really consider it food or not.”
I was right. She was pretty appalled at what we had in the fridge.
“Thomas, this is…disgusting,” she said as she eyed some of the green items on the bottom shelf.
No, they hadn't been green when they went in there.
“Um…yeah,” I agreed. I couldn't really argue with her. “I usually eat something from the freezer or the pantry.”
“I can see why.” She looked up at me from her crouched position on the kitchen floor and raised her eyebrows. “Bring me a trashcan.”
I hauled the kitchen trashcan out from under the sink and over to the fridge.
“I can’t believe you keep your locker looking like something out of Better Homes and Gardens, but your fridge looks like it’s out of an episode of Clean House.”
“I hardly ever look in the fridge,” I said with a shrug. I took another handful of something from Nicole and tossed it in the bin. It may or may not have once been a mesh bag of peaches. “I usually eat stuff out of a box from the freezer. I don’t really know how to cook.”
“I get the idea you never look past the top shelf,” she said as she pointed to the neatly lined bottles of Gatorade. There were six different flavors, arranged in rainbow order.
Yeah, rainbow order.
“Pretty much,” I replied.
“Okay,” Nicole said, “I’m going to need bleach for the rest of this.”
While Nicole washed down the shelves of the now nearly empty refrigerator, I hauled the trash to the cans outside. She ended up finding something she called “reasonably edible” in the pantry and cooked it up for lunch while I put plates and forks on the table. We spent the rest of the afternoon on our project and didn’t even realize how late it was until Nicole’s phone rang.
“Um…hi,” she said as glanced over to me. I figured it was
Greg and hoped she wasn’t in trouble or anything for being over at my place. She turned around and talked kind of quietly. “Yeah, I can…but you have to give me about an hour…okay, a half hour…I’m not even home right now…It doesn’t matter…”
I tried not to listen, but it was kind of hard. I figured out pretty quickly it wasn’t her dad, but I had no idea who it might have been. She gathered up some of the papers we had on the table as she said “uh-huh” into the phone a few more times. Finally, she bit down on her lip and looked up and me.
“I’ll be there soon, okay?” She ended the call and shoved the phone into the pocket of her jeans. “I gotta go.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she said. She reached up and pulled her hair out of the hair band that had been keeping it out of her face. She shook her head, and her hair fell around her back and shoulders. “But I need to get home.”
I didn’t like it.
Everything had been just fine before she got that weird phone call, and now she was running off? I remembered the other time she had just taken off without telling me why, and I remembered what Greg said when she finally came back home.
How are Ron and Timmy?
I looked back at her, and her demeanor was completely different. She had been annoyed with the state of our fridge, but she had been smiling and relaxed. Now, she was agitated and nervous. She wiped her hands on her jeans and gathered up the rest of the project stuff to shove it into her backpack.
“Why?” I asked, because I’m a total idiot who doesn’t know when to fucking shut up.
“I just…um…” she stammered. “I need to help out a friend.”
“What friend?” I pushed.
“Thomas,” Nicole sighed, exasperated. She looked over at me and took another deep breath. “Please don’t ask. I’m not going to say, and it’s just going to piss you off, okay?”
“No,” I said, “it’s not okay. Why won’t you tell me why you have to leave?”
“I just can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why can’t you tell me?”
“Thomas, for the love of God, stop it!”
“Stop what?”
“I need to go now,” she said as she shook her head at me. She walked up to the front door, opened it, tossed her backpack over her shoulder, and looked pointedly at me. I stood in the doorway to the kitchen and just looked right back at her, not moving.