“How’s Stanley doing?”
“Much better, thanks. He was here earlier, but he got tired, so he called it a night.”
“Tell him he’s been in Debbie B.’s thoughts.”
“Will do.”
Brock rolled his shoulders, and cleared his throat, displaying his irritation that he was still waiting. Mr. Bartlett dipped his chin in a friendly nod to the table and walked away, Brock by hisside. Watching the two men’s backs retreat triggered something in Tiana, and the panic inside of her tripled.
He was gone. The threat of him making a scene was gone, at least temporarily. So why were the walls closing in on her? Why was she hyperventilating? Why was her vision blurry? Why did she feel paralyzed? Why did she want Niko to pick her up and carry her out of the room,An Officer and a Gentlemanstyle?
This wasn’t a movie. He wasn’t going to rescue her. She needed to just calm down.
29
The only thingthat Tiana was able to move on her body was her toe, and that was tapping up a storm. It was a nervous tick she’d had since she was a child. She’d gotten in trouble for tapping her toe in school, in church (with the foster families that went to church), and during any event where she was supposed to be still. Her toe tap-tap-tapped like a woodpecker mainlining Red Bull.
Suddenly, she became self-conscious. She wondered if anyone could hear it above the hum of chatter, the music, and the clink and clank of knives and forks. Besides the rapid taps, her legs were trembling uncontrollably. Her chest felt like an elephant was using it as a couch. She was sweating. Her ribs were a cage for her heart, which had turned into a hummingbird on speed.
She tried to ground herself. She did her 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Five things she could see: wine glass, podium, chair, flower, and microphone. Four things she could touch: tablecloth, hair, spoon, and steel chair leg. Three things she could hear: talking, music, and a fan. Two things she could smell: cologne and chicken. One thing she could taste: the tang of her wine.
It didn’t help. The health alert on her Apple Watch dinged. She checked her app and saw that both her blood pressure and heart rate were in dangerous ranges. Great. Perfect. Cool. Now she was even more stressed.
She tried her deep breathing technique, but that didn’t seem to be helping either. She was getting more lightheaded with every breath.
The only saving grace was that no one at the table seemed to notice that she was having a full-blown panic attack. The din of conversation surrounding her was relentless, and she was never more grateful to be invisible. Julianna and Jessie were dissecting the social significance of Paris Fashion Week, taking turns scrolling through a feed of models in latex and tulle. Ivy and Gianna were bonding over TikTok anecdotes, the volume escalating with each shared experience. Even in her panic, she noted it was nice to see a tiny spark back in Gianna now that she wasnotin the presence of Brock. The men, Niko, Cole, Arturo, and Zach, were all discussingThe Great British Bake Offof all things. She had opinions on that, but there was no way she could voice them now. She wasn’t totally sure how she was breathing.
Tiana just concentrated on trying to calm down and practiced gratitude. She was grateful everyone was preoccupied…or so she thought.
When she felt his large hand settle on her leg beneath the table hidden by the tablecloth, she realized Niko must have been aware of her meltdown. The moment she felt his touch—steady, broad, warm—land on her upper thigh, which was bare thanks to the slit that came within inches of her hipbone, her energy shifted. The shock of his palm against her bare skin was the positive equivalent of having cold water splashed on her face. It stole her breath and awakened every nerve ending in her body. Her heart rate didn’t necessarily slow, but it was no longer racing out sheer terror. This increased rate had to do with goodendorphins feeding her cells. Her shallow breathing deepened, allowing her to get oxygen to her brain.
That was all it took: the pressure and heat of Niko’s palm, the tenderness of his touch, and Tiana’s panic, her needle-spiking heart, and the brassy ringing in her ears. All of it reorganized itself around the new gravitational center of his touch. Her body went from flight-risk adrenaline to molten, boneless want in less than a second. She took in a shaky breath, and Niko squeezed her thigh.
The physical connection between them from the first time they kissed had been explosive. She’d never had a connection with someone like she had with him. When their lips met, it was as if the puzzle piece clicked into place. That was their one reliable way to communicate when the world felt like a roaring, collapsing tunnel. That was why she’d gone to his room the night after she’d filled out the forms for Pops’ surgery. She’d been lying in her bed, terrified about what could happen to Pop, and she’d just needed Niko. She’d needed him to quiet the voices in her head, the fear, the unknown. And that’s exactly what he’d done. When she was with him, he gave her peace, pleasure, safety. She’d missed that. Missed him.
Niko’s hand on Tiana’s leg was more than a comfort, he knew exactly how to ground her when her mind threatened to spiral into a tremulous, pulsing void of panic. For a minute it just sat there, steady, large, and warm, his thumb pressing into her flesh in short staccato bursts like a secret Morse code only they shared,I’ve got you. I’m right here.
Once her body began to relax, his hand began to move, slowly at first, sliding up and down over the taut muscles of her thigh, a slow, easy stroke. It should have been soothing. It should have been subtle enough to be ignored, and yet every motion set off a micro cascade of sensation in her body, so much so thatfor a moment she lost track of the room, the conversation, the purpose of their attendance at the table at all.
Her legs were crossed, and his fingers traced patterns on her bare skin, hungry for more. His touch was electric, sending jolts of anticipation straight to her core. She could feel the heat of his palm and the slight roughness of his fingertips as he ventured higher and higher. Each time, he came tantalizingly close to the apex of her thighs, where she could feel her sex throbbing, aching with a need that was almost unbearable. His fingers teasing a promise of his touch made her breath hitch in her throat.
Then, just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, he flexed his fingers, gripping her upper thigh firmly before uncrossing her legs. With both feet now on the floor, his fingers wrapped around her knee and pulled her right leg towards him. His touch was a silent command, ravenous and insatiable, and it left no room for denial. She gasped softly and looked around. No one had any idea what was happening below. This potent mix of danger and desire was intoxicating, an all-consuming fire that promised sweet surrender in its wake.
He slid his hand up her thigh until his palm cupped her sex. She could feel the dampness of the material covering her mound and the heat of his hand as he began to rub her through the thin fabric. A whirlwind of tingles built in her core, her body responding to his touch.
She glanced at Niko. He was talking to the guys around the table, with no hint on his face of what was happening beneath the tablecloth. Yet, he must have noticed her looking, because he pinched her inner thigh gently with his thumb and forefinger. Then, his finger moved and hooked the edge of her panties, pulling them aside as he slid underneath them.
His finger traced her slick folds, then moved up and circled her swollen nub, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. Hecontinued to tease her, intimately massaging her slit and then circling her clit but never actually touching it. Her breath hitched as he began to apply more pressure, with each pass, he pressed the tip of his digit inside of her, and when he traced the knot of nerves at the top of her opening, he brushed against the sides, causing her entire body to convulse with near-orgasmic pleasure. It was everything she could do not to beg him to touch her.
Niko was discussing Cruz’s next MMA fight in Dubai, carrying on as if nothing was happening right under their noses. He was totally engaged in conversation with the guys, wearing a perfect poker face of nonchalance. No one could guess what forbidden game they were playing beneath the obscuring sanctuary of the tablecloth.
Tiana inhaled slowly through her nose, trying to keep her composure, and as she did, the roughened pad of his middle finger brushed over her clit, igniting an explosive release that shattered her. The world disappeared as Niko flicked her nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of her body. Her hand fisted as tingles of bliss exploded, one after the other, relentlessly, as he continued coaxing her climax to new heights. It consumed every part of her being until all that mattered were his fingers on her sex and their shared secret beneath the table.
Finally, when her last aftershock subsided, she took in a shaky breath. Niko’s hand stayed in place, caressing her feminine folds. He intimately massaged her sex as if to say,I’m still here, you’re still okay. It didn’t even feel particularly sexual, which was an odd thing to say. How could his rubbing her pussy not be sexual? But it wasn’t. It was calming, it was comforting and it was him telling her,this wasn’t just getting you off.
The problem was him doing that just turned her on more. It made her want to straddle him right then and there, and she didn’t care that there was a room filled with people.
She needed a drink. Her hand was trembling as she picked up a glass of wine. She brought it to her lips and closed her eyes as the tart liquid hit her tongue and slid down her throat.
