“I can take those,” she tried to insist.
“Not while I’m here, you can’t.”
For a second he thought she was going to argue with him, but then her lips pulled up in a tight grin. “Thank you.”
They walked up to the one-story craftsman that had a storybook coziness, all shingled siding and marmalade porch light. Inside, it was the polar opposite, sterile, efficient, every surface either scrubbed to a high-gloss shine or made of some wipe-clean synthetic material. It did have original built-in bookshelves that added a little bit of charm and character, but other than that, it was pretty sterile but very nice.
Niko walked up the steps, and he wondered if Brock had ever carried her luggage and she was only saying she could carry her own bags because they weren’t actually a couple, or if he never carried them. Asshole.
He opened the door, and as she walked inside, she asked, “Shoes off?”
“You’re good.”
Tiana yawned as she slipped them off anyway, tucking them neatly beside the door. He wondered if she did that everywhere, if she was always this careful about taking up space in someone else’s life. The thought made his chest tighten.
“Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
“Just for tonight,” she said, as if she needed to reestablish the boundary.
“Right.” He tried to keep his voice casual, but his pulse battered at his throat.
He opened the door to the main bedroom and flipped on the dimmable switch, casting a warm pool of light over the huge space. There was a king bed, midcentury nightstands, and accordion glass doors opening onto a wooden deck with a fire pit. He set her bag down next to the dresser. “It’s got blackout curtains, a sound machine, and a memory foam mattress.”
“Thisis a guest room?” Her arms spread out, and she spun in a three sixty, not even coming close to hitting anything with her arm span.
“Yep.” He wasn’t lying. She was a guest, and it was her room.
Her eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head. “Let me see your room.”
His lips curled. “You want to see my room?”
“No, that’s not…I didn’t mean…I was just saying that…”
“There’s water and juice in the mini fridge,” he interrupted her. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me. Goodnight, Tiana.”
She took in a shaky breath. “Goodnight, Niko. And thank you… for everything.”
Without thinking about it, Niko bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, then turned, closed the door, and headed to his room two doors down. He had no clue how he was going to sleep when all he could think about was that she was just feet away. He felt that being with her, beside her, was both completely natural and right, yet also entirely wrong. It wasn’t in a sexual way, not that he didn’t want that, he did. But he just wanted to be with her, to hold her in his arms, to lie with her, which was not a feeling he’d ever had before, not even with Gianna.
12
She was drowning in him,and it was exquisite. Her skin was hypersensitive, every nerve raw and sizzling at his touch. Niko’s mouth hovered above her navel, the faint scrape of his stubble drawing a helpless shiver down her spine. Her fingers ran through the silkiness of his hair as she stared into his eyes and watched that smile, that wicked, lazy smile of his, and dipped lower, a heat and hush so decadent she arched up, desperate to keep him there forever.
He moved lower, and her thighs spread wide as his shoulders edged her apart. She arched her back, greedy for more, his hair tangled in her fists, and he made her wait, teasing, drawing slow circles with his tongue until she was gasping, needy, mindless. The world outside the bed was a myth, all that existed was the relentless glide of his hands, the rough velvet of his voice, and the way he kept her on the edge until her bones liquefied and even the sheets seemed to melt. She was about to tumble over the edge, thighs quaking, moaning his name, when a sound was blaring and?—
She woke with a start, the echo of her own moan ringing in her ears, heart thundering a frantic counterpoint to the hush ofmorning. And for a split second she didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know who she was, either, or why there was a foreign but familiar weight pressed against her hip, warm and real as a living thing. The dream clung to her, sticky and electric, but as she blinked, the sharp sunlight made the world resolve itself into something real, and the pieces began to click into place.
The first thing Tiana noticed was the ceiling was not her own. It was smooth and white and slightly industrial, with recessed lights like little coins along the perimeter. Then there was the plush feel of a mattress that was at least three times as thick as hers. The sheets were cool and faintly smelled of citrus, and the blanket had been kicked off sometime in the night.
She grabbed her phone to shut off her alarm and saw her duffle bag, and she remembered Niko carrying it in from the car. The entire night flash flooded back to her. She remembered that she’d agreed to stay at his house because it had truly freaked her out that Brock had not only been to her residence, so he knew where she lived, he’d left flowers and clearly been inside. She never left her door open, and she knew he could pick locks. He’d bragged about it to her on more than one occasion.
If she’d stayed at the cabin, the truth was she wouldn’t have gotten any sleep at all. She would have lain awake all night worried about him showing up again. It wasn’t that she was scared of Brock, at least not physically. He’d never laid hands on her. Or at least he hadn’t hit her. He’d grabbed her arms, blocked her from leaving, and intimidated her. It was psychological warfare that was his weapon of choice.
A judge had seen it, which is why she’d walked away with twenty million more dollars than the three hundred thousand she’d originally asked for that Brock’s Aunt Bernice had left her just because Tiana had liked her and visited her often, which apparently none of her other family ever had. His psychological warfare was why Brock Bartlett was in Hope Falls.
She took a deep breath and sat up in bed. Her eyes were blurry, but she saw that she had thirty minutes before her first class. Niko’s Airbnb, while still in walking distance, because everything in Hope Falls was walking distance, but it would take her an additional five minutes on foot.
After forcing herself out of bed, which was much more difficult to do since she felt as if she was sleeping on a cloud, she went into the en-suite bathroom and felt as if she’d been transported to a high-end spa that was easily as big as her cabin. It was like stepping into a private oasis, a world away from the chaos of the outside. The space exuded a sense of luxurious relaxation, with its spacious layout and a rainfall showerhead that mimicked the soothing sound of a gentle summer storm. The large standalone bathtub beckoned, promising a tranquil soak amidst the opulent marble and gold accents, but she had no time to answer its call.
