“Um…” I mumble, looking over his shoulder. His hand on my cheek brings my eyes back to him.
“You’re really fucking beautiful when you get all territorial.”
I can’t believe I just dragged him inside to get a shirt. I didn’t even think—I just hated that that woman was looking at him like he was her next meal. “Um…” I mumble again.
“You’re making it really fucking hard for me to not kiss you,” he groans before taking a step back and pulling the shirt over his head. “All right, let’s try this again,” he says, taking my hand and leading me back outside to my car.
The woman, Deb, is still here; her eyes go to our hands and narrow before she lifts them and plasters a smile on her face.
“Deb, this is my girlfriend, Sophie.” My stomach flips over at the word ‘girlfriend.’ I’m not going to correct him in front of Deb though. “Sophie, this is Deb. She lives next door and watches Daisy when I’m out of town.”
“Oh, that’s so nice of you, Deb,” I say, my smile matching hers in fakeness.
“I didn’t know you have a girlfriend.” She takes her eyes off me, looking at Nico.
“I don’t have time to look at your sink today, Deb,” he says, ignoring her comment.
“Sophie’s going to work and I have some stuff to do. You should call George and see if he can come by.” He opens my car door, waiting while I get in. It’s already eighty degrees out, so I start my car and flip the switch for my top to roll back.
“George always takes forever to get here. Are you sure you can’t come over and have a quick look?” she pouts.
“Desperate much?” I mumble to myself while tying my hair up into a ponytail. I look up at Nico, who is watching me closely with a small smirk on his face.
“I’ll see you tonight for dinner, baby. Just come here when you get off,” he says, leaning his body into my car.
“Okay,” I whisper, mesmerized by the flecks of gold in his eyes, the way he’s looking at me, and the way my chest feels every time he calls me baby in that sexy, deep voice of his.
He leans in more, his mouth touching mine. When he goes to pull away, I capture his head with my hands in his hair, holding him to me and taking the kiss I wanted earlier. He growls into my mouth, his hand on the door going to my knee then up my thigh under my skirt. My skin tingles where he touches. I feel one finger slide across the seam of my panties, causing me to gasp and pull my mouth from his. Our eyes meet, and his finger travels over the seam again, this time with a little more pressure.
“This is going to be mine, sweet Sophie.” I lick my bottom lip, and his mouth comes back down on mine in a soft, teasing touch before pulling away. He looks at me before standing to his full height. “See you later, baby.” He smiles and taps the door of my car before taking a step back.
“Have a good day. Bye, Deb,” I say cheerfully and smile. He shakes his head and grins bigger.
I back out of the driveway before putting my car in drive and taking off, watching in the rearview mirror as he says something to Deb, who looks like she’s begging him. I shake my head. I can’t blame her; I would beg him too.
I turn my gaze in the mirror to myself and smile. Luckily for me, I don’t need to beg. Then I think about everything I have been through and how much help I need, and I decide that today is the day. I can’t put it off any longer. If I want to be with Nico—and I definitely want to be with Nico¬—I need to try to fix myself.
*~*~*
I push Nico to his back and climb on top of him, my mouth going to his neck and my hands going up his shirt. I love everything he’s been showing me about making out. I feel the smoothness of his skin under my palms and want more, so I tug his shirt over his head before pressing my hips down, feeling his erection hit perfectly every time I move my hips. He groans, and his hands slide up my sides under my shirt, dragging it up and over my head. I sit back so he can unhook my bra. His mouth moves to my neck, nipping and licking as his hand unclasps my bra.
“You have the most beautiful tits.”
His words cause a moan to climb up my throat as his lips lock around one nipple, his free hand pulling on the other one. My head drops forward to watch him. His hand travels down my back and into my jeans, grabbing my ass and pressing me harder into him, causing me to whimper again.
“Please,” I moan, tossing my head back.
He rolls us over so I’m under him. His hand moves to the front of my jeans. The sound of my zipper being lowered fills my ears. Then his fingers press into me, causing me to lift my head and latch on to his bottom lip with my teeth.
“You’re so wet—so fucking wet. I can’t wait to sink into your tight little pussy and have you dripping around me, gripping me tight while I fuck you hard.” This is something else I’ve learned about myself—the dirtier he talks, the hotter I get. “I want you to come for me, Sophie. I want to feel your tight, hot little pussy pull my fingers deep inside of you.”
“Nico! Oh…God...” I whimper, my fingers digging into his arm.
“Come for me, sweet girl,” his lips whisper across my ear.
My hips lift higher; my heels dig into the bed as I shatter, my orgasm taking me into another world before sending me back to earth. When I come back to myself, I’m wrapped tight in his arms with my head pressed into his chest.
“You okay?”
I nod, listening to his heart beat rapidly against my ear. “Are you okay?”
“Never better,” he tells me sincerely.
“But you—” I start to tell him that he hasn’t gotten off. Actually, since he started introducing me to sex, he has never even taken off his pants.
“We will get to that, baby. But for now, it’s about you.”
“I want to make you feel good too,” I tell him, burying my face into his chest.
“Watching you get off makes me feel good,” he says while stroking my hair.
“I want to touch you. You never let me touch you,” I whine.
“You will one day, but right now, I need to keep my boy away from you. It’s important I take my time with you. I want you to be ready when we finally go there. If you touch me, all my good intensions will go out the window,” he explains.
“Fine,” I pout. I am happy he is giving me time to get used to foreplay and building up to sex, but I still want to touch him like he touches me.
“You’re adorable when you pout.” He smiles before kissing me. “So how was your day? Did you go to your meeting?” he asks, running his hand along my back.
“Yes.” I hold my breath.
He doesn’t know the kind of meetings I am going to. I never told him what happened to me; I don’t want him to think I’m tainted or something, even though I know it’s stupid to feel that way. I just told him that I’m going to meetings to help with the loss of my mom. I feel bad about lying, but I don’t know how to tell him what the meetings are really for.
I started going to meetings two months ago, gathering all the information that first day he called me his girlfriend, and have gone once a week since then. I like having a group of women to talk to who understand what I’m feeling, even though I kind of feel like an imposter sitting with them. The things most of them have been through make me feel weak.
“You know, if you ever want to talk to me about how you’re dealing with the loss of your mom, I’m here for you.” He hugs me closer, the ball of guilt in my stomach getting heavier by the second.
“I know. Thank you,” I choke out. “I’m so sleepy,” I whisper, wanting to get away from talking. “I’m gonna head home.”
“Stay with me.” He hugs me again, making me feel sick. “You don’t work at the school tomorrow. We can sleep in.”
I want that. I want to sleep next to him, to have him hold me and make me feel better, but I just can’t. “I think I should go home,” I repeat more softly this time.
“All right, sweet Sophie,” he whispers, making me feel worse. He always does exactly what I want; he never pushes me.
br /> “Thank you.”
I get off the bed and put on my bra and shirt before watching him pull his shirt back over his head. He follows me out into the living room, grabbing his keys. He always follows me home when I’m over here late. He walks me into my house to check everything out and then kisses me before leaving for the night, telling me to lock up after him while reminding me to set the alarm.
“I really wish you would stay,” he says gently.
“I just need time,” I tell him. Seeing the look on his face has me wanting to kick my own ass, but I don’t know what to do; I feel stuck.
“As long as you need, Sophie.” He hands me my keys.
I hope he’s not lying and doesn’t give up on me. I want to be better; I hate that I’m hurting him. I walk to him, wrapping my arms around his waist before lifting up on my toes while pulling his mouth down to mine for a kiss. I try to tell him everything with that one kiss. When I pull away, he looks at me and I can see that he’s searching my eyes, trying to understand. I wish I understood myself.
“All right. Let’s get you home.” He kisses my forehead before leading me out to my car.
I bite my cheek the whole way home, and I bite it harder as he kisses me goodnight. When the door finally closes behind him, I let the tears I’ve been holding in fall.
Chapter 6
Nico
I quietly open the door to my house, not wanting to wake Sophie, who stayed over to watch Daisy. We have been seeing each other for a few months now. I’m head over fucking heels in love with her crazy ass, yet only Kenton and Asher know about her. This is not by choice; I want my family to get to know her. The day Asher found out about Sophie, he, Kenton, and I had spent the morning moving Kenton’s ex’s shit to her house. As soon as we got back to my place, Kenton and Asher pulled a bottle of Jack out of my cabinet, claiming they were toasting to crazy bitches. Kenton looked at me and smiled right then, and I knew he was going to start some shit.
“How are things going with Sophie?” he asked, and Asher looked at me with a what-the-fuck-is-he-talking-about expression on his face.
“Things are fine,” I gritted out. Kenton knew I had my reasons for not telling my family about Sophie yet.
“Who’s Sophie?” Asher asked Kenton, completely cutting me out of the conversation.
“Who’s Sophie? Now isn’t that the million-dollar question?” Kenton asked, tapping his chin.
“Who’s Sophie?” Asher turned his attention to me, and I glared at Kenton, who shrugged before I looked at Asher.
“Sophie is—”
“Sophie is his boom,” Kenton said, cutting me off and laughing like this was the funniest shit in the whole world.
“What?” Asher asked in disbelief.
“It’s true. Why do you think he has been taking jobs that are closer to home and hasn’t been going to see y’all as often?”
“Jesus, do we need to go to the store so I can buy you some fucking tampons?” I growled at Kenton.
“At some point, you need to tell people what’s going on,” he said, making my temper flare.
“And I will when I’m fucking ready.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Asher asked, and I could see him slipping into big-brother mode. I shook my head before looking at him again.
“Things with Sophie aren’t easy, and I need time before I bring her around everyone.”
“We’re your family.”
“Yes, and I will bring her around. Just not yet,” I told him firmly.
“Mom’s going to flip the fuck out,” Asher said, smiling.
I smiled back. He is right; my mom is going to be happy as hell I am settling down, but she is going to flip because I haven’t told her anything. I know my mom will love Sophie, and it kills me every time I have to go to my parents’ without her.
I’m brought back to the present by Daisy, who’s jumping around at my feet. “Hey, girl.” I drop my bag to the floor before crouching down to scoop her up. “Were you a good girl while I was gone?” I ask, flipping her onto her back so she can get a tummy rub.
When I walk into the kitchen, I see the note Sophie left on the counter. Like always, if she knew I was coming home late, she would leave a note letting me know where I could find dinner.
“You’re home.”
I turn at the sound of her voice to see her standing at the opening of the kitchen. She’s wearing one of my shirts, her hair is up, and her face is makeup-free. I love that she stays here when I’m out of town. I love even more that she wears my tees to bed when I’m gone.
“I am.” I turn away from her and start the microwave.
“Are you okay?” she asks softly.
I take a second, trying to think of a way to answer that question. Am I okay? Fuck no. Do I want to talk to her about why I’m not okay? Again, fuck no.
I turn to look at her. Jesus, she is so fucking beautiful that just looking at her makes my gut get tight. I want to do what she needs. I always want her to be happy. She told me she needs time, that she’s trying to work through some things from her past. I understand that. I know her mom died when she was young, and I know it had to have left a scar on her. She opened up to me about some things, but a lot of information she shared about her past is either from before her mother’s death or after she left home and went to Job Corps. There’s a huge chunk of time she always skims over. I know that whatever it is she’s holding in is the thing keeping us at a standstill.
I want to be with her; I want a future with her, but I need her to want it too. That’s why last night, after getting off the phone with her, I called Justin and had him do a hard run—also known as an extensive background check—on her. What I never expected was for him to tell me about a police report from right before she was emancipated from her father shortly after her mother’s death.
“Come here,” I tell her, setting Daisy on the ground.
“What’s wrong?” She shuffles her feet, not looking at me.
“Come here, Sophie,” I repeat more firmly this time. I hold out my hand, and she finally walks to me, her steps slow and unsure.
“I feel like something’s wrong,” she whispers, searching my face when my hand wraps around hers pulls her to me.
“We need to talk.”
“Oh no,” she whispers.
I pick her up, placing her on the counter, where I stand between her legs, not giving her any room to run when I say what I have to say. “I need to tell you something.”
“Okay.” She nods, her hands balling into fists on her thighs.
“I had your background ran a few months ago. And again yesterday.”
“What?” she breathes, her eyes widening.
“You won’t open up to me, Sophie.”
“I cannot believe you did that!”
“You didn’t give me much choice,” I say calmly.
“I didn’t?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.
“No, you didn’t,” I growl.
“You can’t just force me to talk to you.” She pushes my chest.
“I’m not forcing you,” I argue, not budging.
“You had my background ran, you jerk. What do you call that?”
“I needed to know what I’m dealing with,” I explain.
“Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to deal with it anymore!” she yells, shoving my chest, trying to get off the counter.
“Stop.” I grab her wrists, bringing them around her back and caging her in. “No more bullshit, Sophie. Talk to me. I need you to tell me what happened,” I say, softening my voice.
“I think it’s stupid,” she says quietly, her body finally sagging against mine.
“What?” I ask surprised.
“Now that I’ve been going to my group and hearing stories from other women who have really been hurt, my story seems stupid,” she says quietly.
“It’s not stupid.” I pick her up off the counter, and her legs wrap around my hips as I carry her down the hall to my room.
> “What are you doing?” she asks as I lay her on the bed then climb in next to her.
“We’re going to talk. You’re going to tell me what happened,” I state.
“You know, I really don’t like it when you completely ignore what I tell you.”
“Okay, baby. Talk to me,” I tell her, adjusting her so that we’re face to face.
“Gahhhh, you’re so annoying,” she whines.
“Talk, Soph.”
“Fine.” She sighs, closing her eyes.
I listen quietly, running my hand through her hair as she tells me everything I already learned from her police report. Hearing it from her mouth has me ready to kill someone, and by the time she’s done talking, I have mentally planned my trip to Seattle.
“So, you see, it’s really not that bad,” she says, looking up at me.
I know it could have been much worse, but I also know that what happened to her changed the course of her life even more than it had already when she lost her mother. And even if she doesn’t want to admit it, I know that the loss of her mom when she was so young has a lot to do with her avoiding any type of relationship with people.
“Sophie, what happened to you was bad,” I confirm.
“Not as bad as it could have been,” she says softly. “I always knew it could have been worse, but I never understood to what extreme. After hearing what happened to some of the women in my group, I understand now, and I’m even more thankful. I hate that I’ve been so weak.”
“You did what you had to do to protect yourself.”
“I didn’t though. I hid out in my house, afraid to meet new people or even date.”
“You moved to another state all alone,” I remind her.
“Only because I wanted to buy a house.”
“You can say you did it because you wanted to buy a house, but I think you did it because you were ready to change your life. You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
“I don’t know,” she mumbles, nervously playing with the pocket of my T-shirt.
“I do. Look at how you are with me.”