Nico holds my hips as he starts to sink into me. “All my muscles?”
“Yes.” I touch his arm. “All your muscles. They’re very sexy. And I think I’d very much like to be carried around by you.”
His gaze heats. “That, Soph, I can definitelydo.”
And then he plunges deep, filling me completely.
My breath gusts out in a rush.
My inner muscles flutter around him.
His hand comes to my cheek, so strong, yet tender. “Soph.” His voice is thick. “Out of everything I’ve seen in the world, you’re the most beautiful.”
Then he moves.
All thoughts of acrobatics and pilates and the Kama Sutra disappear.
It’s just me and Nico. Joined for our second, second time.
And just like all the times before, it’s perfect.
I wonder how long it’ll be before Nico gets back.
A quick look at my phone tells me he’s been gone for almost two hours. Not a long time, in the scheme of things. But in these circumstances, it feels far too long.
How long does it take to get to Murray Hill from here? Geographically, it’s less than twenty miles. But with morning traffic in the city? It could take Nico over an hour just to get there.
And once he’s in Queens, who knows howlong it’ll take to deal with the man he’s looking for—assuming the man is even home, which he might not be. At least an hour, maybe two…
Or maybe the man opens the door to Nico and Wraith and just starts shooting.
Maybe Nico won’t come home, like he promised.
Maybe Knight will get a call from the hospital, letting him know that Nico’s been hurt.
Maybe Wraith will call with the horrible news that Nico’s injuries are worse?—
No.Frowning, I shake my head. Nico said he’d be fine. That what he was doing wouldn’t be dangerous at all.
“It won’t take long,” he said, “and there’s nothing to worry about. Wraith and I will find the guy, talk to him, and be back before you know it.”
I was still lying in bed, feeling deliciously sated from our very enjoyable second, second time, waiting for Nico to come back with the coffee he’d gone into the kitchen to make. The plan was to have coffee in bed, then shower together—it’s better for the environment, after all—and then get back to looking through my cases.
But instead, Nico came back with only one cup of coffee and a grim expression. “The program got a hit,” he explained. “A guy named Jase Harrigan. He was in the building at the time of the shooting. And though he hasn’t been convicted, he’s been a person of interest in several murders.”
“I hate to leave,” Nico continued, “but I need to talk to this guy myself. Wraith’s coming with me, and I asked Jester and Knight to come here to stay with you. The guy lives in Queens, so, hopefully, it won’t take too long. And hopefully”—his jaw tightened and anger flared in his eyes—“he’ll give me the information I want.”
Somehow, I don’t think talking is what he’sactuallyplanning. But Nico didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.
Honestly, if I were about to face someone who took a shot at Nico, I’m not sure talking’s all I’d want to do, either.
“This is good news,” he told me as he perched at the edge of the bed and played with my hair. “If this is the guy, I can find out why he was there. If he acted alone or if someone sent him. And then…”
Then we could put an end to this whole messed up thing. I would be safe. I could go back to my normal life, my job—assuming my clients haven’t bailed on me by now—and see about a future with Nico outside of the walls of his condo.
Not that his condo isn’t nice. It is. It’s a heck of a lot nicer than my crummy place in Hoboken. A little cold and plain, but nothing some plants and colorful paintings and some actual carpets wouldn’t fix.
Have I imagined how I’d decorate this place if I lived here? Maybe. But doesn’t every woman do that once she’s spent enough time at her boyfriend’s bachelor pad? A very expensive bachelor pad, but a bachelor pad nonetheless.
