Page 16 of Nico (Members From Money Season 2, #154)

He sat a few feet away from the gate and contemplated. Last night had been a restless one for him, tossing and turning in the bed where he had spent so many nights with her.

He spent time with his daughter, helping to set up her suite with dolls and stuffed toys and enough books to outfit a library. And of course, an easel.

He was growing to love her. In just a short time, he was growing to really love her. And she loved him without question. She clung to him and begged for stories. But he wanted the woman he had come to love. God, how he loved her.

So, here he sat in his car, a few feet away from her gate and wondered what kind of reception he would receive.

With an impatient flick of his wrist, he started the vehicle, traveled the short distance to the gate, and drove in. Parking behind her car, he killed the engine and stepped out. The wind was biting, the air icy with the promise of a bitter winter.

Mounting the steps, he rang the bell and waited for her to open the door.

And knew when she stood there staring at him through the peephole.

"You might as well let me in," he called out mildly. "I have no intention of leaving."

He waited a few more minutes and then he heard the locks turning. When the door swung open, he had to bite back a smile at her blazing eyes. She propped her hands on her hips and stood there glaring at him.

"You should have waited; I would have helped you with the cleaning." When he lifted a hand to wipe a smudge of dirt from her left cheek, it was slapped away.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's cold." He started to slide past her, but she planted her feet.

With a sigh, he simply clamped his hands on her shoulders and moved her aside.

"Close the door darling, you're letting in the cold air."

She seethed when he strolled his way into the kitchen.

Slamming the door shut, she marched after him, hissing out a breath when he made himself at home around the counter.

"Are you comfortable?"

He grinned at the fulminating look she was giving him.

"Why don't you come and sit on my lap? Make us both comfortable?"

"What are you doing here, Nico?"

Sighing at the rigid expression on her face, he dropped all pretenses of levity. "It's clearly obvious."

"Not to me." Dragging off the scarf she had used to keep the hair off her face, she tossed it on the counter and dragged restless fingers through the strands, sending them tumbling around her shoulders.

It always amazed him that even in her faded tights and old sweater, without a stitch of makeup on, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"I couldn't stay away." His quiet admission had her breath catching.

Turning away from him, she went to the fridge and took out two cans of Coke. Sliding him one, she sat across from him and popped the tab.

"I thought you'd given up the bad habit."

She lifted the can to her lips and took a swig. "Too late." She sighed as she continued to stare at him. "It's not going to work."

He knew she wasn't talking about her soda habit. "Why not?"

"You have a daughter."

His eyes darkened. "And you are not open to having a relationship with a single parent."

Her eyes flashed. "You know damn well that's not the case."

"Then what is?"

"You were the one who said you'd have to concentrate on your little girl. You left."

"And I'm back." He took a swallow of the ice-cold liquid. "Which proves that I need you." His eyes bore into hers; those bottle green eyes that felt as if they were seeing into her soul.

She didn't look away, but the tension in her posture was unmistakable.

Silence stretched between them, filled only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and their unspoken memories.

Nico set his can down, fingers tapping restlessly on the countertop, searching for words that might bridge the chasm he'd created.

"I know I left," he said quietly, voice rough with regret. "But I never stopped thinking about you. About us."

Her eyes softened, just for a moment, before she blinked away the emotion. "You can't just walk back in and expect things to be the same."

He nodded, understanding. "I don't. But I'm here because I want a second chance. If you'll let me."

She hesitated, the weight of old wounds and new hopes flickering across her face. "It's not that simple," she murmured, but for the first time, Nico saw possibility in her gaze, a quiet invitation to try again.

Pushing the can away, he rose, and she tensed. If he touched her, she would have no resistance.

"We need to talk."

"Nico," Taking the drink from her, he put it away and turned her to face him.

"Are you still seeing him?" he asked roughly.

"Yes," She lied and was ashamed of herself for using Robert as a shield. This was not her. She had always been honest to a fault, but she had no idea what to do about Nico. "No."

"Which is it?" he shook her lightly.

"No." She sighed softly. "Nico," She broke off when his mouth covered hers.

All the fight went out of her, and she simply clung to him, her body yielding while her mind battled with her emotions.

Everything emptied out of her brain and all she could do was just feel.

Wrapping her hands around his neck, she succumbed to the heat flowing through her body like a river sweeping over stones.

When he lifted her into his arms, she wrapped around him, realizing that this was what she had been waiting for all along.

He went with unerring accuracy to her bedroom without breaking his stride or ending the kiss.

Kicking the door shut, he stopped only to lower her onto the bed, following her down and covering her body with his.

Lifting his head, he brushed away the tendrils of hair clinging to her cheeks, his eyes alive with passion.

"Don't lie to me again." He whispered hoarsely.

"I..."

"You hurt me just now."

"All right." Her hands were trembling as she used them to brush away his untidy hair from his forehead. "We still have to sort things out."

"Can you accept my daughter? Are you willing to meet her?"

She looked away for a moment as she contemplated the questions. Yes, she could accept his daughter but meeting her would mean they were in a committed relationship.

Tucking his fingers under her chin, he turned her head towards him.

"I asked you a question."

"You asked me two." She shrugged at the look he gave her. "What if she doesn't like me? I think she needs time..."

"To do what?"

"Her mother is gone."

"She is."

"And you're asking her to share her dad with another woman."

"She'll get used to the idea."

"How? Have you asked her?"

"No."

She tried to push him away, but he would not budge. "I cannot just barge into that little girl's life."

"You won't be barging. You're just going to start to get to know her."

"She might hate me."

Impatience whipped through his voice and roughened it. "You're making excuses."

"I'm making reasons." She shifted her body restlessly. "I don't want to be the person that comes between the two of you."

"You won't." At her skeptical look, he shook his head. "You won't. We'll spend time with each other so she can get to know you."

"To what end?"

He gave her a surprised look. "If you don't know the answer to that question, you were not paying attention." He framed her face between his palms. "I have fallen in love with you Sadie and I think you're smart enough to realize I was heading in that direction."

"I..." Her voice trailed off as she blinked at him.

"Nothing to say?" Bending his head, he brushed his lips against hers and felt her quivering.

"I want you in my life. The only person who can stop that is you.

And if you refuse, I promise that I will hound you until you get tired of me.

Get to know my daughter, that's all I'm asking.

" When he started to slide his tongue over her bottom lip, she lost all sense of the conversation as emotions tumbled through her with the speed of light.

His lips trailed to the curve of her cheek and her neck.

Her head lifted, a moan escaping her as he ravished the hollow of her throat.

She had missed this, missed the incredible effect he had on her, the passion they shared.

She had spent nights trying to forget the way his body felt on hers and had little success.

Her hands tunneled through the untidy denseness of his hair, sliding down to his neck, the breadth of his shoulders, gasping at the flexing of muscles beneath her fingers.

Shifting a little, he rolled the sweater up, up, up, until he could feel her flesh.

A murmur sounded inside his throat when he discovered her bare flesh.

Her nipples were already rigid, even before he used his fingers to roll the flesh, pinching them slightly.

His eyes were on hers, filing away the look on her beautiful face.

The parted lips, the sound of the breath escaping, the tumble of hair against the quilted pattern of her pillows.

All of it sent the heat trembling through him.

His lips found her hardened flesh, and he felt as if he was coming home after a long and grueling journey. His mouth turned ruthless, he could not help himself. He had been starving ever since he left her home that fateful afternoon, with the insane notion that he could forget her, be without her.

He tugged at the flesh, his teeth and tongue devouring.

Her fingers gripped his shoulders as she tried to keep herself anchored.

She felt as if she was flying, drifting away and nothing could stop her.

When he transferred to the next nipple, she exploded, her body twisting fervently, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Lifting his head, he kissed the tears streaming down her cheeks, just sipping at them, the taste of her enveloping him.

Without a word, he rose and took off his clothes. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he undressed her, fingers lingering over each dip and curve.