Page 10 of Right Next Door (Stone Family #3)

Ian

N icole stills at first, clearly taken aback, but after a few seconds, she loosens and melts into me. Her hands slide around my shoulders and up into my hair as I pull her into me, leading her down the hall, away from any prying eyes on Aster Street who might see us through the front windows.

Because as much as I’d like to think I have self-control, I clearly have none when it comes to this woman. All it took for me to fall to my baser instincts were a few conversations about her asshole husband and a flirtatious smile.

I know this is a bad idea, but I can’t make myself stop. There is no calling the animal back now that he’s been released. And he wants her.

Nicole is lean but soft, her breasts pressing against my chest, her ass round under my palms. I grab it, lifting her slightly, earning a squeak that I take advantage of, gliding my tongue along her lips until they part.

She tastes faintly of the candies we keep in a bowl for clients who need a boost in sugar.

I would not suffer if it was the only thing I’d ever be able to taste again.

Sticky-sweet citrus from her tongue.

When I groan into her mouth, she whimpers, her hands fisting in my shirt, and it’s not enough. I need more. I need all of her.

I back her up against the wall, my hands on either side of her head, my hips searching for hers. She’s so small and delicate compared to me, and I want to protect her yet can’t wait to feel and see this magnificent creature unleashed.

I break the kiss and trail my lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at her sensitive skin. She gasps and tilts her head back, giving me better access. The fast beat of her pulse against my lips is an echo of my own.

She’s desperate and clawing at me. As much as I am for her. My cock is hard behind the zipper of my denim, and when she lifts her leg, wrapping her thigh around my hip, I become steel.

“God, baby,” I murmur, pulling away only long enough to admire the rapid rise and fall of her chest when she breathes. “You were waiting for this, weren’t you?”

She nods and yanks me back to her, my mouth to her neck. I don’t care about leaving marks. In fact—fuck it—I want to leave a mark. Let that piece of shit see what he’s missing. I suck hard on the slope of her shoulder, only releasing her when she gasps.

I slide my hand up her thigh, under the soft material of her dress, and it moves easily, pooling at her hip. “I’m going to touch you,” I inform her to make sure this is what she wants. “Find out how long you’ve been waiting for this. How wet you are for me.”

She nods, her lips brushing mine. “Yes, please, please .”

Her panties are thin and damp, and I push them aside, slipping my index and middle fingers over her pussy, trailing along the length of it, from the patch of hair at the top to where I feel soft and wet skin.

I part her open, earning the sweetest trembling breath from her before sinking my fingers inside.

The amount of her desire has my own skyrocketing. Not that it wasn’t off the charts before.

“Fuck, baby,” I rasp, finding her clit easily, her body reflexively jerking at the touch. What I wouldn’t give to restrain her. Find each and every way she’d respond to my fingers.

My mouth.

My cock.

“You liked me marking your skin, huh? Got you all slippery here.” I rub soft, quick circles, making her hips buck away from me.

A little too much for my liking, so I tighten my hold on her thigh with my hand, keeping her leg up and open, allowing me room to move my hand, thrust my fingers in and out of her.

Find the spot that really makes her squirm.

“I got you,” I tell her, licking into her mouth when I’d actually like to be licking her pussy. “Feel this?” I shift my wrist slightly, making it easier for me to stroke her. Those tight walls clenching around my fingers. “I feel it.”

She groans, her kisses turning frenzied and nipping. “How… Why are you doing this?”

“Why, what? Why am I making you come?” I back away a few inches, admiring the flush of her skin, the sheen of sweat on her temples and across her collarbone. This woman needs more orgasms in her life. “Because you want it, and I want to be the one to give it to you.”

I’d make her come as many times as she’d allow me to.

Especially with her fuck-hot whimpers and barely audible please, Ian s. As if I’d ever not give her anything she asked for. Let alone pleaded for.

“I want to make you come so hard, you see stars. I want to give you the whole goddamn galaxy.”

“Yes, yes,” she moans, and I can feel her growing close in the way her fingernails dig into my shoulders and neck. With a few swipes of my thumb over her clit, her inner muscles tighten and flutter around my fingers as she comes with a cry.

I continue to stroke her, press the heel of my hand against where she’s most sensitive, slowly bringing her back to earth, waiting until her shaking and trembling subsides before I release my grip on her thigh. She’s pink and panting and so pretty it hurts.

Once she catches her breath, I place a kiss at the corner of her mouth and then one more on the other side. I don’t have to ask, but I do anyway. Because every guy needs his ego stroked once in a while. “Did you see stars?”

She licks her lips. I do too. And then she smiles, lazy and a little loopy. “The whole Milky Way.”

I hum my satisfaction and slide my fingers out of her.

They’re coated in her orgasm, and I keep my eyes on hers as I bring my fingers to my mouth, tasting her.

She watches me with her pupils blown wide, and I can see the fire in them.

I would love to give her more, but I don’t want to push her too far, too fast.

So instead of doing what I really want to, which is get down on my knees and lick her until she comes on my tongue, I press my forehead against hers. “You’re so brave.”

But it’s as if my words flip a switch, her body going rigid.

Nicole pulls away from me, eyes wide and wild, breath coming in quick, shallow pants out of her parted lips, still red and swollen from my treatment of them. I instinctively tighten my grip on her waist. “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head, wriggling out of my hold. “I… I have to go. I need to go.”

I reach for her, following her out of the darkened hallway. “Nic, wait. Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She dodges my touch, her words tumbling out in a hurried jumble. “I just… I need to think. This is all so fast, and I… I have to go.”

“Baby, please, hold on a minute. Take a breath.” I step toward her, but she retreats further, walking backward, stumbling into Jasper’s chair.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” I say as she darts to the door. If anything, I should be the one apologizing for freaking her out. Clearly, I went too far.

“I’m so sorry, Ian.” She reaches the door, but I place my hand against the glass so she can’t open it.

“Don’t run away.”

She shakes her head, eyes downcast, and the sight of her caged and frightened makes my stomach churn. I never want her to feel trapped, especially not by me. So I step away.

“I wish you’d stay. At least catch your breath.”

“No, I can’t. I’ve got to go.”

“I’ll walk you out to your car,” I say, opening the door, which only gives her an out, and she rushes away from me.

“No, that’s okay. Thanks for the tattoo and…you know. I’ll, um, see you around. Okay? Okay.”

I watch from the sidewalk as she literally runs away, footsteps fading when she rounds the corner to where she usually parks her car. My heart hammers in my chest, a sickening mix of adrenaline and fear, and I scrub a hand over my face, the scent of her still lingering on my fingers. Fuck .

Inside the shop, I lock up and pace the length of the floor in an attempt to calm my racing thoughts. What the hell just happened? One minute, she’s coming apart in my arms, and the next, she’s bolting like a frightened deer. I replay the scene in my mind, trying to pinpoint where I fucked up.

Was I too intense? Too pushy? I assumed she was right there with me, her body responding to every touch, every word. But maybe I read her wrong. Maybe I read the whole damn situation wrong.

I stop in front of my workstation, bracing my hands on the back of the chair she sat in an hour ago, as she stayed as still as possible while I tattooed her.

She was brave—is brave—for putting herself out there.

For going against the grain I know is so difficult for her to do.

To come to me for help…and maybe comfort.

Or that’s probably wishful thinking. That she’d ever actually want me for anything more than what I gave her tonight. Some art and a nice finger-fuck.

But goddamn, it felt…different. Being around her is a balm to my soul. My life has not been easy, but Nicole is… She is a quiet afternoon. She is a night under the stars. Warmth and sunshine, peace and calm.

I may have worked hard not to let things overwhelm me, but that’s only because I’ve had to face so much.

I can’t allow every little thing to have space in my life.

Otherwise, I might not ever get out of bed in the morning.

But the woman with the soft voice and gentle smile is a reminder that life can be easy. Moments can be rejuvenating.

And the trust she placed in me tonight felt monumental. To give her a permanent marker as well as touching her in ways that I know were earth-shattering. For her and for me.

I should go after her. Make sure she’s okay. But something tells me that would only make things worse. She said she needed to think, and I have to respect that, no matter how much every instinct in me screams to chase her down and make this right.

Instead, I pull out my phone, my thumbs hovering over the screen.

I have her number from when we coordinated the cleanup, but we only exchanged a few texts, which included messages from her like Meet you at 8?

At the corner of Lindley and Franklin. and Can you please pick up the pallets of water from Debra at the community center? and Thanks for all your help today!

My replies were thumbs-up emojis like a fucking tool.

So, now what? I suddenly text her like I have a brain? And say what? Sorry I made you come so hard you had a panic attack.

I shove the phone back into my pocket and clean up my space, putting everything away, trying not to remember the sounds she made and the way her sweet little pussy clenched around my fingers.

From her reaction, I doubt I’ll ever experience that again, so I might as well imprint it in my memories. But the thought of never having her again makes my chest ache. The idea of hurting her is even worse, and I rub at the spot above my heart, as if that could ease the discomfort.

I’ve never felt this torn up over a woman before. Not since Heather, but even that was different. This feels bigger, more consuming. Like Nicole has the power to wreck me in a way no one else ever has.

And that scares the shit out of me.

Yet underneath the fear, there’s something else. A fierce protectiveness. A deep, primal need to make this right, to make her feel safe and cherished. To show her that she deserves to be worshipped, to be loved.

But all I can do is let her figure out what she wants. This is about her. Not about what I want or need.

So, I guess I wait. And hope.