Niko’s eyes lit up. “You didn’t.”
In the article he’d said his favorite dessert was strawberry shortcake, which was actually a really easy dessert to make. She stood and went to the fridge. Behind her she heard him taking the plates and bowls to the sink.
“I did." She opened the fridge and then pulled it out. When she turned around, he was standing in front of her. Shrugging, she added, "You said in that article it was your favorite.”
He grinned, the earlier heavy emotion giving way to his usual easy charm, but this time the smile was softer around the edges. “You’re basically leaving me no choice but to marry you.”
She knew he was kidding, and sheneverwanted to get married again, so why did him even joking about a proposal cause her heart to skip all the beats?
21
Niko laywide awake staring at the ceiling in the guest room, flooded in a restlessness so fierce it felt like the mattress had been dusted in fiberglass. After dessert Tianainsistedon cleaning up alone, apologized for her behavior that morning and at the women’s shelter, thanked Niko for everything he’d done for her, and rushed off to bed because she had an “early class” in the morning and needed to go over some paperwork for Pops. He thought that maybe after sharing about their childhoods she would be more open, but it seemed as if she’d retreated back to giving him minimal information. Although that might have something to do with his comment about marrying her. He hadn’t meant to say it, it just sort of slipped out.
She was wifey material. He’d never thought much about Bartlett, but him fumbling the bag with Tiana made him the stupidest motherfucker alive.
Niko closed his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep, but his brain wouldn’t shut down, it kept spinning, always spinning, replaying every glance, every innocent brush of hands, every flash of golden brown skin and dark, tumbling curls. Tiana beneath him in bed the night before, her large Bambi eyeslooking down at him as he lay between her thighs and tasted her, her whimpers and moans as he drove into her, the way her body trembled as she went up and over the edge—the memories of the night they shared burrowed into his mind and tunneled deeper each time he tried to shake it loose.
Never in his life had he been hard over a woman he’d just had sex with the night before. He couldn’t actually remember getting hard and staying hard over a woman he was justthinkingabout as an adult man. Maybe as a teen, but definitely not as an adult. This was ridiculous.
He rolled onto his stomach and dragged the pillow over his head, as if that would help the X-rated visions of Tiana that danced in his head. It was no use. His own body had betrayed him hours ago, anticipating a night of debauchery as he ‘helped’ Tiana do the dishes, which equated to standing beside her and continuously offering his services. She’d fought him all the way, but he managed to dry off one pan and both wine glasses as a contribution to the cleaning efforts. It wasn’t that she’d done anything at all to encourage his soldier to stand at attention, it was just anytime she was near, he smelled her, heard her, brushed against her, or the big whammy tonight, she bent over, he got excited, and he couldn’t help it.
He thought once she’d gone to bed he’d be alright, but no. This was apparently not an out-of-sight out-of-mind situation. Three hours later he was still rock hard, the ache of it sharp and constant, centered in his groin but radiating outward until every limb throbbed with need. He told himself he’d ignore it, if it was still there in the morning, it’d be gone by the time he was done with his five-mile trail run behind the house. The thought lasted all of thirty seconds.
Fuck.He was never going to get to sleep like this.
His body already knew what it wanted, and his mind was a traitor, conjuring up every scrap of memory from the night before until self-control was a hollow word.
With a sigh, he gave in. He rolled back over on his back, reached down under the sheets, wrapped his hand around the base of his shaft, and began to stroke his rock-hard erection. He just needed relief. The second his palm made contact, the pleasure arced through him, raw and electric, and the fantasy in his head dialed up to high-def. The entire world collapsed into sensation and the film reel unspooling in his mind: Tiana’s lips, soft and parted with need, the breathless catch in her voice as he’d hungrily licked her clit, the way her thighs had trembled, clamping tight around his ears, squeezing like she never wanted to let him go.
He remembered the taste of her, the salt and sweetness of her skin, and the way she’d gripped his hair with both hands and gasped his name, at first like a surprise, then like a plea, and finally in wonder. His hand moved faster. He imagined sliding up her body, fitting himself between her legs, the heat of her sex so intense he could still feel it in his fingertips. He remembered the way she’d bucked her hips, grinding hard against him, trying to get every last ounce of friction, and how he’d just let her because he wanted her wild and shameless and never holding back.
He stroked harder, squeezing the head, twisting his wrist like he was driving himself into her again. He remembered how she’d gone still under him, eyes wide and wet and blinking up at him with an expression he’d never seen before, like he was the only thing that existed for her, like she wanted to memorize the feeling of him inside her forever. He remembered the feeling of her inner walls clamping down around him and the sound she made as she came, a whimper turning into a moan turning into a scream she bit off at the last second, her hands clawing at hisback and her body clenching around him so tight he thought he might black out.
He let himself linger on the memory of her body, how it was both hard and soft at the same time, her muscles taut as she pulled him deeper, her nipples pebbling against his chest, and her belly so warm and smooth under his hands. The flush on her cheeks when he pinned her wrists above her head, her curls spilling everywhere like she was underwater, and the trust in her eyes, the pure, unadulterated trust, even as she writhed beneath him and he teased her. He replayed the feel of her teeth grazing his jaw, her tongue flicking over his earlobe.Fuck, she was perfect, and he’d never wanted anyone so badly as her. If he spent every day of the rest of his life with her, he didn’t think that would be enough for him to get his fill of her.
He was so close, every muscle drawn tight, his balls aching in that sweet, almost painful way, when he heard a floorboard squeak and the hinge on his door creak.
His eyes flew open and he sat up shifting to the side. His legs dropped over the side of the bed, so he was seated on the edge, his feet on the floor. His chest was rising and falling in short pants when he squinted and was able to make out a shadowy figure standing in the doorway.
“Are you okay? Is something wrong?" he asked breathlessly.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Do you want me to make you tea? I think I have som?—”
“I don’t want tea.”
She took one step inside the room, her face partially illuminated by a slice of moonlight. His entire body tensed when he saw that she was wearing one of his t-shirts. Was there anything sexier than a woman in her man’s shirt?
“Were you sleeping?” she asked.
“No.” His voice was deeper than he’d ever heard it and had an animalistic quality to it, most likely because he’d been so close to coming.
She licked her lips, he couldn’t tell if it was nervously or if it was something else, and more blood flooded down south, causing him to swell and throb.
“Were you…” Her cheeks flushed as her eyes flicked to his lap.
He glanced down and saw that he had quite the sheet tent popped.
