Laura Kaye - Hard As It Gets

“There,” he said. “All done.” He flicked his tongue over his bottom lip.

Heart kicking up in her chest, she asked, “Do I get to see it now?”

Nick stood and pulled her off the bed, his cock fully erect. “Full-length mirror behind the bathroom door.” He chucked the pens into his nightstand drawer and followed her.

Her arousal spiked and was so much more noticeable as she walked. She was trembling with lust and anticipation. In the bathroom, she flicked on the light and stepped inside the small undecorated space, then let Nick in behind her before she closed the door.

She approached the mirror, Nick shadowing her. A guitar. He’d drawn an almost impressionist guitar down her whole right side, with the head and tuning pins just beneath her breast, the fretboard a long line over her ribs, and half the rounded body curving over her belly and hip. Extending from the joint of the neck and body was a single golden wing.

Tears sprang to her eyes. “It’s beautiful, Nick. Can I touch it?” She met his scorching eyes in the mirror.

“Yeah? Yes, you can. It won’t smear.”

Becca traced her fingers over the lines. What an incredibly thoughtful thing he’d done for her. She’d wondered about getting a tattoo, and he’d given her a way to actually see it on her skin. Not that she’d start with one this big, but still. He knew what the image meant to her . . .

Jesus, she loved this man.

She leaned back against him and held his hand to her belly when he hugged her in. “Thank you.”

“You’re beautiful no matter what, but that is so damn sexy.” He tilted his hips into her ass, his hard cock nudging her cleft. “I want to fuck you and watch how the ink moves on your skin.” She moved to turn toward him, but he grasped her shoulders and held her in place. “Right here. Just like this.”

She nodded, her heart pounding so hard she felt it beat under her skin everywhere. Paper crinkled behind her, and he tossed a condom wrapper on the counter by the sink. He nudged her ankles apart and stepped in close. In the mirror, she watched as he clutched her hip, bent his knees, and entered her from behind.

“Oh, God,” she cried, feeling him fill her. A strong arm wrapped around her chest and he grabbed her breast. She clung to his forearm, holding him to her. And then he was moving, hard and fast, her back arched, his grip providing leverage, their gazes colliding in the mirror.

“Beautiful Becca,” he rasped in her ear. The hand on her hip reached between her legs, forcing him to hunch around her as he thrust. His fingers pressed small, tight circles over her clit until she was panting.

In the mirror, his gaze alternated between her face and her body, and she understood why. Their reflection was so freaking hot. His muscles surrounding and guiding her, the tattoo on his bicep and the ink on her abdomen catching the light as they moved together.

The orgasm slammed into her out of nowhere. “Oh, God, I’m gonna come again,” she said, and then her body detonated. Her nails dug into his arm and her knees went soft.

He held her tight. “Fuck yes, me too,” he groaned, hips slapping into her. Three final, hard thrusts had his cock pulsing.

Their panting breaths echoed around the small space. She turned in his arms and threw herself around him tight. Her wetness on the condom pressed against her belly, but she didn’t care. Emotion was on the verge of overflowing, and she had to let some of it out.

Nick petted her hair and hugged her back, and for a long moment they stood there, just holding one another.

A few minutes later, she yawned and tried to hide it, but he chuckled. “I wear you out?”

“Don’t sound so smug,” she said, grinning because it was true. She pressed a kiss to his chest and looked up at him. “Besides, I’m not complaining.”

Nick disposed of the condom and kissed her. “Good.” Taking her hand, he led her back to bed. The digital clock on the nightstand read 2:04. “You should go to bed for a few hours. Morning will be here too soon at this point.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be back in a bit. Thought I’d go see what Marz’s heard from the guys or if they’re back.”

She nodded, wanting to stay with him. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

“No, you sleep. If something important has happened, I’ll come back and get you.” He kissed her on the lips. “Promise.”

As tired as she was, Nick must’ve been, too. “But if there’s no news, come back to bed with me. Okay?”

His smile brought out the dimple. “Count on it.”

While he redressed, she spent a few minutes getting ready for bed, then she let him tuck her in. Sitting on the edge, he leaned in and kissed her. “Sweet dreams, sunshine.”

“After that, no doubt.” Question was, would her dreams of them being together after this crisis passed come true? His silence after she’d admitted she cared for him rang loud in her memory. His eyes and his touch said he shared the feeling, but maybe she was misreading them.

With a laugh, he turned off the lamp and left.

BECCA CAME AWAKE on a gasp. “Nick?” she said. In the darkness, the clock glowed the numbers 5:18. The lamp confirmed what her instincts had already told her; she was still alone.

The guys must be back by now. Right? Then again, Nick promised he’d wake her if something important happened.

Taking another moment to wake up, she rubbed her face and stretched. Here and there, her muscles twinged with delicious, little aches from their lovemaking, and she didn’t mind one bit.

Indulging in a quick shower, Becca’s mind started racing. What had the guys learned? What new challenges would the day throw at them? Would they find Charlie today? God, how she hoped.

She dried quickly, careful of her guitar drawing even though he’d said it wouldn’t smear, and dressed in jeans and a baseball-style T-shirt that was one of the most comfortable things she owned. Hair still damp, she threw it into a ponytail and stepped into her sneakers.

The rest of the loft apartment was quiet, and she wondered whether that was because everyone was asleep or over in the gym. The living room was empty, so she slipped out into the stairwell and crossed to the opposite door.

Voices sounded from inside as she entered the code into the keypad and pulled open the door. She only took half a step inside, unsure what she was walking into. The door rested against her shoulder.

“Jesus, Nick. All of this is her father’s fault. So she can damn well participate,” Shane yelled. The words shoved away the last of her sleepiness. What the hell was going on?

“That’s bullshit,” Nick raged back. “She has nothing to do with what her father did. It’s not her fucking fault the man was a goddamned criminal.”

Criminal? The walls of the huge space sucked in on her, her brain repeating that word in Nick’s angry voice. Why would he say that? Her heart pounded against her sternum.

“Guys,” Marz said, standing up from his desk chair.

Shane didn’t back down one bit. “Stop leading with your dick and think strategically—”

“Guys,” Marz said louder, looking right at her. Her fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and she had to force her feet to remain planted and not run away from whatever was happening here.

“What?” they both yelled.

Marz nodded to where she stood frozen in the doorway on the far side of the gym. And then five pairs of male eyes swung toward her.

“Shit,” Rixey bit out, crossing the gym in what felt like one giant leap. “Becca.” Not like this. She wasn’t supposed to find out like this. Goddamnit.

She stepped all the way inside, letting the door click behind her. “Why did you say that? About my dad being a criminal?” Disbelief and hurt colored her expression. Pleading filled her eyes, and it shredded him. “Why would you say that?”

Heart in his throat, he reached for her. “Becca—”

“No.” She batted his hands away. “What was my father’s fault?”

Panic stalked around the edges of his mind, but Rixey refused to let that fucker have a way in. He gestured toward the guys, resignation a weight on his shoulders. “Okay. Come sit down.”

Her eyebrows slashed down over stormy blue eyes as red climbed up her cheeks. “Just tell me what you meant.”

His mind raced a moment too long with a response, apparently, because she pushed past him and marched to the corner where his team stood, their gazes alternating between the pair of them. Nick hustled after her. When the truth came, it had to come from him or she’d never forgive him. Maybe she already wouldn’t.

Christ, they’d made love—and that’s exactly what it had been, not sex, not fucking, not some fling—they’d made love and he hadn’t been honest.

She faced off with the team. “Somebody man up and tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Becca—”

Nick glared at Marz, and the man ate whatever words he’d been about to say. When the call had come in on the reward phone line that had led to this fight with Shane, they’d already agreed to Nick’s appeal to trust Becca with the truth once they recovered her brother. Finding Charlie didn’t necessarily mean the Merritts’ troubles were over. Not if their enemies were still looking for whatever had led them to toss both their apartments. Moreover, Charlie would hopefully be able to corroborate some part of their story anyway. And if he was the one talking about whatever his father had been into, the NDA became moot as a reason for continuing to withhold the information.

Gauging the temperature of his team, it was clear from their gazes and their nods they thought she should know. And that was enough for him. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, especially the more he’d gotten to know her, but that ship had sailed. And fuck the goddamned NDA. If he was going down, it wouldn’t be with this secret standing between them.