“Yeah, let’s—” He clears his throat. “Let’s get out of here.”
NINETEEN
SCARLETT
The walk back to the hotel is a quiet one. I take Nico’s hand as soon as we leave the axe-throwing place, comforted by his presence in New York’s streets. And when he sees me shiver, he doesn’t say a single word; he just pulls off his zip-up hoodie and settles it over my shoulders.
I give him a grateful smile. “Thanks,” I say softly, tangling our hands again.
I don’t quite understand why he seems on edge, or why he’s not hustling me back to the room, but we’re so close to the hotel that I don’t bother asking. I’ll just seduce it out of him.
Sure enough, when we reach the room and he closes the door behind us, he practically melts into the wall to get past me without us touching.
“Do you want anything to drink?” he asks, everything in his body screaming with tension. “I figured we could watch the newestDancing With The Starsepisode if you haven’t already seen it, but if you want to watch something else?—”
His words cut off with a sip of air when I move behind him and place my hands on his shoulders. “Why are you so tense allof a sudden?” I ask, massaging his muscles. “You know you can talk to me.”
The only answer I get from him is a humorless laugh as he slips away.
Still not understanding, I sidle closer. Now that he’s facing me, I can approach him with more intent, a sultry smile on my lips as my hands go to his belt buckle.
“I can help with that tension,” I purr only centimeters from his lips.
But when his hands still mine, I look into his eyes with a confused frown.
“I don’t want to have sex,” he says in a rough voice.
I quirk an eyebrow as I look down at the giant bulge in his jeans.
I want to lick his blush away as he covers it with his hands.
“Okay, fine, you make me hard,” he admits, taking another step back. “Constantly,insanelyhard,” he adds in a mutter. I try not to preen under the compliment. “But that’s not the point here.”
Since this is clearly about to be a conversation, I back against the counter so I can plant my hands behind me and lift myself up onto it. Crossing one leg over the other, I ask, “What’s the point then?”
He rips his gaze from my legs with a head shake and focuses on my face. “Thepoint,” he stresses, “is that I told you we’re not having sex. That’s not why I want to spend time with you.”
My brow furrows. “You can’t be serious.”
He doesn’t look away from me. “I meant it, Scarlett. Idomean it. I’m not hiring you for sex.”
I blink at him in confusion. It’s not that I don’t believe Nico when he says he wants to do non-sex things on our dates; it’s just hard to believe that he doesn’t want sex duringthispart of thedate. When we’re alone in a hotel room and he’s so attractive I want to rip his clothes off.
Why doesn’t he want it to involve sex?
Suddenly, a memory flashes through my brain. I can still feel my ex-husband’s touch on my skin, can still see the sneer that flashed at me when I said no. Can still feel the crippling weight of worthlessness that came with the silent treatment in the weeks after that.
My resolve hardens, if for no other reason than to never feel that way again. I might not fully understand why Nico enjoys spending time with me, but Idoknow why he enjoys me physically. With sex, I have something to offer.
“I know how to be worth your time,” I say as I uncross my legs. My dress naturally sits mid-thigh, so I place my hands on my thighs and slowly brush the fabric up higher.
Nico freezes in place, his eyes going to my legs. “Scarlett…” he warns.
“We don’t need to argue, baby,” I purr, leaning back against the cabinets behind me. “Wouldn’t it be so much better if we just made each other feel good?”
His chest starts to heave with his breaths. “Scarlett, don’t do this,” he begs.
“Do what?” I ask innocently. I keep pulling up my dress, finally exposing the simple white thong I wore for Nico tonight. “I’m just trying to help.”
