Still shy with her nakedness, it was the pleasure in Marcus’s eyes as she moved toward him that made her bold. He reached for her as she came closer, but instead of getting back on his lap, she slowly dropped to her knees between his.
“Nicola?"
His voice was raw, almost hoarse, as he said her name and her hands trembled as much with desire as uncertainty as she went to unzip his pants.
He took her hands in his. “You don’t have to do this.”
She met his gaze head on. “I want to.” And she did, wanting it so much it shocked her.
Praying that he wouldn’t be disappointed with her technique—or lack thereof—with his help, she managed to pull his pants open and his boxers down. She reached out to touch him, to stroke her fingertips down the soft skin covering such incredibly hard heat.
“That feels good. So good, Nicola."
Without thinking, she bent forward and tasted him. On a loud groan, his fingers came to her hair. She knew he could have taken control of things, could have turned the tables on her and held her there while he took his pleasure in her mouth, but even though she was realizing a part of her would be pleased by that dominance, this time around she was glad that he was letting her take things entirely at her own pace.
His skin was clean and salty all at the same time and she realized one taste wasn’t nearly enough. But before she could do anything more, Marcus finally took control and lifted her up from her knees to straddle him again.
“I wasn’t done,” she protested.
At that he pulled her mouth down to his and kissed her hard. She was so lost to his kiss she was surprised to realize he’d put on the condom until he pushed into her, so hard and fast she gasped against his lips.
He stilled inside her, asking “Nicola?” and she realized he was still worried about hurting her.
She replied first by rocking her hips closer to his, then by saying, “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
And as they both found the peak and jumped off one more time, it really was.
* * *
When they were about to step out of her hotel room a short while later, she steeled herself to deal with what needed to be dealt with.
“Why don’t you go down first and I’ll meet you by the side entrance?” She lifted her baseball cap and big sunglasses out of her bag. “I’ll be wearing these and an oversized shirt.”
Fifteen minutes ago she’d been warm and safe in his arms. Now she was coldly strategizing how to get out of the hotel without being seen together. And she hated it, hated being able to see the contrast so clearly.
“I don’t like doing things this way, Nicola.”
“I don’t either, but—” She sighed, shook her head. “What do you think about Smith’s life?”
“He’s done well for himself. I’m proud of him.”
“Yes, but do you envy him? Have you ever wished you could be on TV and have women asking for your autograph?”
“Hell, no.”
She’d known that would be his response. “I know you hate having to hide like this, but you’d hate what would happen to your life if we did it the other way even more."
Marcus stared at her for several tense moments. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
She watched him leave, the door closing a little too hard behind him, and she had to swallow past the lump in her throat. She hated that he was upset, but she knew she had to stand firm with him about not letting anyone know about their relationship.
Not because she had any more fear that he might be using her like her ex had. Marcus clearly had zero interest in fame or bright lights. And she was pretty sure he didn’t need the money that selling their story of “sinful nights” would bring in.
Unfortunately, her fears were of an altogether different sort now.
She was very much afraid that she was going to make the mistake of falling in love with him if she wasn’t super careful about keeping a big, thick wall up around her heart.
The thing was, Nicola would have claimed him as her boyfriend in front of the world in a heartbeat if she thought their relationship had any chance of working out. But she knew better than to believe in that fantasy. She and Marcus were having great sex. Lots of it. Of course they would connect during all that intimate skin-to-skin contact, with all the hours they were spending together.
But the fact was that on Monday she would go back to her life and he would go back to his. The last thing she needed was visual reminders of their time together or interviewers asking her what had happened to the gorgeous businessman she’d been seeing.
Yes, she wanted to protect Marcus from the circus his life would become if he were linked with her.
But she needed to protect herself, too...and remember to prepare her heart for their inevitable goodbye on Monday morning.
Chapter Fifteen
Marcus had spent a lifetime being fair. After breaking up at least a thousand fights between his brothers and sisters, he’d always assumed he was skilled at seeing all sides of a problem and analyzing it without getting emotionally involved on either side.
So then, what was his problem where Nicola was concerned? She didn’t deserve his anger, his frustration over the sneaking around stuff. It wasn’t her fault that she was famous. She’d given him the chance to walk away from the complications of fame the night before and he hadn’t taken it.
He needed to get over himself, and fast, before Nicola drew into herself any more and disappeared completely on him long before they ever said goodbye on Monday morning. He could feel her closing herself off more with every mile they covered in his car as they crossed over the Golden Gate Bridge, heading north into Marin. And the fact was, he hated losing his connection to her even more than he’d hated having to be in goddamned stealth mode leaving her hotel room to go pick her up at the VIP side entrance.
He reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes were big, surprised, as she turned her beautiful face to his. “Marcus?”
“Will you forgive me for being a jerk?”
He was glad, so damn glad, to see her full lips curve up slightly at the corners. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
He lifted her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to the palm. “There is. I won’t do it again."
He kept her hand on his lap, pulling her closer to him. They were too far apart in his car. She belonged on his lap, curled up against his chest, where he could stroke her hair, where he could keep her safe, where she could relax and let go of the stress of her high-pressure life for a little while.