Jealousy rakes its claws down my insides, from my heart all the way to my gut, leaving behind bloody, burning gashes. The intensity of pain knocks the breath out of me. It’s such an unfamiliar emotion. Even when Owen dumped me for Dana, I was hurt and sad—felt inferior, even—but I didn’t feeljealous. Not like this.
But with Nicholas, it’s as though somebody stuck her hand into my chest and ripped out my heart. Like somebody just stole something fundamental and critical to my existence.
Cheers go up around us, and someone walking by pats Nicholas on the back, congratulating him on his winning bid. Nicholas gives a curt thanks, then curses under his breath. He takes my hand, tugging.
“Let’s talk someplace quieter.”
I nod and stand. This isn’t the kind of conversation we can have surrounded by all these guests.
He holds me tightly, like he’s afraid I’ll vanish, and leads me out of the ballroom. He pulls me into a small prep room and sticks a chair underneath the knob to prevent the door from being opened from the outside.
The room is dimly lit. There’s one long table in the center and towers of stacked chairs in two corners.
I lick my lips, this time not caring if I smudge my makeup. My mouth is too dry, and my fingertips are tingling.
“Now. Can I have my answer?” he says.
I open my mouth, but can’t articulate a response in a way that’s honest, but not overly clingy or possessive.
Because I am totally both.
“Well?” he says.
I look at him. I can either lie and tell him I feel nothing at the thought of him with another woman or be honest and tell him I’m jealous. Neither seems like a good option. But given how sweet he’s been, he deserves my honesty, even if it makes me squirmy.
“I don’t like it,” I say. “I hate it. I feel jealous, which makes me an awful person because I don’t think I should—”
He puts a finger over my lips. “Stop there before you say anything you don’t mean. Just so you know, I’d never spend that kind of money on you if you weren’t worth it. You’re worth everything, Molly. And what you felt when you imagined me with another woman—I felt that when I thought about you out on a date with another man.”
The tingling that was in my fingers spreads to the rest of my body. Hearing him admit he feels the same way I do makes my heart thunder.
I suddenly realize that he’s standingreallyclose, only a hairsbreadth away from me. Goosebumps spread over my skin, and my lips soften against his index finger.
Heat flares in his gray eyes. Wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close, he slants his mouth over mine, sucking my lower lip, then running his tongue over the tender flesh.
My jaw loosens, and I open up for a deeper kiss. I stroke his tongue with mine, then suck it. He tastes like the wine we shared earlier and something darkly addictive I’ve never had before.
He devours my mouth like he’s been starved. Then he thrusts his tongue in, like he’s fucking it. The sweet achiness spreads, pooling between my thighs. My clit throbs, and I squirm with emptiness.
I’ve never had a man kiss me with such raw need. He doesn’t try to hide how much he wants me. What he’d like to do to me.
The blood in my vein boils, and I fist the lapels of his tux, clinging. I press myself against the length of him. His huge erection pushes against my belly. He rocks against me, wanting me to feel every steely inch. My God. The emptiness between my legs grows unbearable.
My senses spin out of control despite my best efforts. How is it possible for Nicholas to make me this crazy with a kiss? It’s like the romance novels I’ve been devouring. The unrealistic “drivel” that Owen and others would mock for giving me unrealistic expectations.
With Nicholas, the freaky-hot sex I’ve read about seems not only possible, butassured. His warm large hands glide over my curves. I tense a little. I don’t have the kind of lean, taut body that his exes had, and…
“You’re so soft and pretty,” he whispers, his voice raw. He cups my ass and squeezes.
I feel the tight, possessive pressure all the way to my clit and shudder. His mouth runs over my shoulder and collarbone. He tugs at the zipper on the side of my bodice until the strapless top slumps to my waist. Millions of hot kisses land around my breasts. Every time his breath fans over the pointed tips, my toes curl.
A moan—I think it’s mine. It’s too high-pitched and desperate.
“Nicholas. Please,” I beg.
“Patience.”
“Somebody might come.” The door’s secured, but…
