Hard As It Gets

Chapter 19

When he finished his slices of pizza, Rixey watched Becca nibble at the crust of the single piece she’d eaten. Not sleeping, not eating, and under a lot of stress—it was a recipe for getting sick or breaking down. “I know what you need,” he said, slipping from the bar stool.

She gave a small smile. “What’s that?” The sleepiness in her gaze gave way to something a whole lot more engaged. Her eyes dragged over his body, trailing heat in their wake.

Rixey wanted to throw his idea out the window, but one need at a time.

“Chocolate ice cream.” He grabbed the tub of double chocolate fudge brownie from the freezer and proudly presented it to her. It was the same half gallon she’d chosen the other night, when they’d wound up boxing instead, and kissing . . . His cock twitched against his fly at the very fine memory.

Her face brightened, dispelling some of the shadows hanging around her eyes. “Chocolate ice cream is a proven remedy for almost anything that ails you. Medical fact.”

“I knew you’d see it my way.” He gathered bowls and spoons and dished out two mounds. “Wanna move to the couch?”

“If I do, I might fall asleep.”

“Then I’ll hold you.” He hadn’t even thought to say the words. They were just out of his mouth before his brain caught up. But, damn, he felt their rightness down deep. Meeting her gaze, he absolutely adored the affection that filled her baby blues. He grabbed their desserts and nodded her over.

“Well, I could hardly resist that.” She slipped off the stool, rounded the back of the big leather couch and sank into the middle.

“Good to know.” Sitting again reminded him that his weapon was still in the back of his jeans. The bite of it was reassuring. And, anyway, he wasn’t leaving her right now to deal with it. Not when she was looking at him like she was. It wasn’t just desire he saw, but also comfort and gratitude and concern.

She adjusted her position to sit cross-legged facing him, her knees brushing against his hip and thigh. Her little moans and sounds of enjoyment as she tasted a scoop of the chocolate reverberated right down his body and pooled in his groin. But, for now, this was just about seeing her sated in this most basic of ways. And it was enough.

He swallowed a big bite of sweet, smooth ice cream and forced his mind to still long enough to really savor it. Damn, that’s good. Ice cream was the single biggest food he’d missed while on deployment, and even after all these months back in the world he still couldn’t get enough. He wasn’t sure whether he or Jeremy had the bigger sweet tooth, but part of their survival kit included a freezer full of the sweet stuff. He took another bite.

Fact that he didn’t only want in Becca’s pants? That was a real gut check about where his head—and his heart—really were, wasn’t it?

“Are you worried about the guys at all? Being out there?” she asked, stirring the ice cream to make it smooth.

“No. These guys are the best. They know what they’re doing. They know how to take care of themselves. And you shouldn’t worry, either.” It was mostly true. The only thing that might’ve made him worry less was being out there himself so he could have their backs. Once, he’d been their second in command, but none of that mattered anymore, and this wasn’t the Army. Besides, they all had jobs to do tonight, and he was content to do his. Events of the past few days proved Becca needed protection, and Rixey suspected she might be feeling a bit more fragile than she was letting on. No way the shock of Scott’s destroyed guitar was far from her mind. Not with how devastated she’d been at the sight of it.

Her bowl sagged into her lap. “I’m sorry about what happened with Jeremy earlier.” Chin down, she ate another spoonful.

“Don’t be. Wasn’t your fault.” How could anyone look sad with a mouthful of ice cream? Going against instinct—and habit—Nick decided to distract her with the truth. “Twelve years in the Special Forces taught me to keep things tight to the cuff. Living that lifestyle, you become accustomed out of practice and necessity to be fully honest with only the close circle of your brothers on the team. I hadn’t realized until tonight that even though I’ve been in the real world for almost a year, I’ve kept Jeremy on the outside all this time.”

He stuffed a heap of dessert between his lips to force himself to stop running his trap. Soon he’d be telling her that he’d also realized he’d lost too many damn people from his life to be pushing people away now. That included Jeremy.

And it included her.

One thing still tripped him up, though. He hated that he couldn’t tell her the truth about her father. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he also didn’t want to hurt her. Learning that someone you loved wasn’t the person you thought could be devastating—especially when that person was someone fundamentally important to your life. Nick knew that anguish firsthand. Realizing that the commander he’d looked up to for so many years was a liar and a manipulator and, really, damn close to a traitor to his country had ripped a part of Rixey’s heart out and shaken his faith in the sacred ideal of the brotherhood of arms. Bad as that was, he could only imagine how much worse it would be to learn those things about your father, and then not be able to confront him because he was already dead.

But Charlie knew something, so one way or another the truth was coming out. And maybe whatever her brother knew could get them around the restrictions of the damn NDA. Every moment until she learned what her father’d done, he was complicit in a lie of omission. And that fact sloshed like battery acid in his gut. Because no matter how unworthy he felt, he could no longer deny that he wanted her. The taste of her this morning hadn’t nearly been enough. He’d known that shit at the time, too. Now he wanted to make sure he didn’t do another thing to make her question where she stood with him.

Not when she stood at the center of his newly realigned universe.

A universe where he could see himself as being important again, as having a mission, as having a purpose. And, the thing was, the realignment had done more than make him fall for a girl; it had made him reconnect with and value parts of his life he’d been neglecting—his love of art, his brother, his team.

Last year, his losses had been catastrophic. That was incontrovertible truth. But he’d actually made it worse by pushing what he still had away.

And Becca had been the one to hold the mirror in front of his face and make him see the light.

His sunshine.

“Want some water?” he asked, hoping she didn’t hear the gruffness in his voice as he got up.

“Sure.”

Heaving a deep breath, he crossed to the sink and busied his hands with the simple task. He’d take anything right about now to distract his brain from all the churn and burn.

“Here you go,” he said, returning to her. He downed half his glass in one long swallow and wished it was something stronger.

When they finished their ice cream, she stretched and put the bowls on the dark, distressed coffee table. Her sigh was equal parts fatigue and satisfaction. He’d helped ensure one, now he could assist with the other. “Come here,” he said, opening his arms.

With a smile, Becca turned, knees facing the back of the couch, and laid her upper body across his lap so her head hit his shoulder. The feeling of her laying on him was warm and tempting, especially with the little purr of contentment that spilled from her throat. But it was also just really frickin’ peaceful. And, man, peace wasn’t something he’d had a whole lot of lately. Hell, not for his whole adult life.

Nick shifted down just a little, holding her close, and let his head fall back against the leather. This couldn’t be any better.

“I need something else,” she said, shifting against him. Head on his stomach, she looked up. And her eyes were on fire.

“What’s that?” His cock was pretty sure it knew what she needed, if his sudden erection was any guide.

“You’ll say no.”

Rixey ran his fingers through her hair, the word yes already on the tip of his tongue. “Try me.”

She pushed her body down until her face lay in his lap, and then she mouthed him through his jeans, eyes slanted up at him.

He sucked in a breath, and his hips rocked into the touch. “Becca.”

The denim allowed through only a hint of the heat from her mouth, but just the thought of it scorched him with lust and need. Her teeth grazed over the length of him, teasing until he knotted a hand in the soft length of her blond hair.

“I want you in my mouth,” she said.

Aw, fucking hell.

His brain ran a calculus of the likelihood of getting caught here versus the ability to pull his cock away from her lips. Marz wasn’t moving from his computers anytime soon, though. And Jeremy had made the cardinal mistake of asking how his equipment worked, so he’d most likely be caught in a Marz vortex for a good long while. And then she unzipped his jeans and pulled his hard-on out in her soft hand, and all those thoughts blew away like smoke in the wind. She bathed the length of him with a long, wet lick. And, damn if she didn’t keep those blue eyes on him like she knew how much pleasure he’d get from watching her tongue him.

And he did. The sight of her mouth on his cock would never get old.

She pushed up on her elbows, swirled her tongue around his tip, and then engulfed him in a slow descent that ended with his head buried in the back of her throat. His hands flew to her hair, half of him wanting to hold her there and thrust deeper, half of him wanting to yank her away before this was over in about thirty seconds.

The other reason getting caught probably wasn’t an issue—this morning aside, his abstinence from everything but his own hand for the past year meant he wasn’t likely to have very frickin’ much staying power. She withdrew in a torturous hard suck of his flesh that very nearly proved the point.

Goddamnit.

“Becca, you are going to make me come in about ten seconds,” he said, awe mixed with a bit of embarrassment in his voice. Jesus, she was really fucking good at this.

She pulled off long enough to grin up at him. “Good. I want you to come.”

Swirling wetness over his head, she lashed him with her tongue before sinking down once more. This time, the pace wasn’t slow, but the fast swallow and suck was every bit as torturous. Maybe more. Because his body was barreling toward a cliff’s edge he had no hope of avoiding. Her silky hair fanned over his lap and he tangled his fingers in it, guiding her head as she devoured him. Heat and pressure and mind-blowing sensation congregated in his balls, hung there until he was holding his breath.

“Christ, Becca, I’m coming. I’m . . . fucking . . . coming.” Dizziness tossed his conscious mind to the corner and he groaned and thrust into her mouth as she sucked down everything that he gave her. The orgasm drained the tension out of his muscles until he was boneless against the leather. Except, miraculously, he was still so goddamned hard she could take his head to the back of her throat when she indulged in a few more lingering sucks.

His. Fucking. Turn.

Without a single word of warning, he pulled her off him, tugged the denim over his cock, and flipped her into his arms. Her swollen lips and flushed face and surprised laugh ricocheted right down his spine and ensured his erection didn’t deflate by even an inch. He hauled them off the couch, refusing to acknowledge his protesting back, then stalked down the hall, kicking the office door shut with his boot.

In his room, he came to the bottom corner of his big bed and tossed her to the mattress in the darkness. She screamed and laughed as she bounced against the messy covers, still rumpled from how they’d left them this morning.

Damnit all to hell, but that felt like a million years ago. He removed the gun from the back of his jeans and settled it on the nightstand as he turned on the lamp. Her eyes found him immediately, and she smiled.

God, she was so damn pretty. And the way she looked at him sent him soaring.

Sometimes you plodded through life with nothing changing from one month to the next no matter how much you yearned for a revolution to erupt beneath your feet. And sometimes your whole world imploded and rebuilt itself in a matter of seconds. In the past, those instantaneous changes had almost always ignited with pain and loss.

Not this time.

This time, a woman had performed the simple act of walking through his front door. She’d sent his life spinning off on a whole new trajectory of rebuilding. Reclaiming. Maybe, even love.

Returning to the foot of the bed, Nick found that Becca’s gaze was equal parts humor and heat. Hands behind her calves, he hauled her toward the edge of the bed, undid the fly of her jeans, and tugged them over her hips. She lifted her legs, helping him remove them, and a twinge of pain shot through his back again as he yanked them off.

Rixey didn’t mind the discomfort. It was a drop in the bucket compared to the soul-deep pleasure he felt, and, anyway, he was used to it. But it reminded him that she’d been injured. “Shit, Becca. Did I hurt your side when I threw you?” He leaned his upper body between her thighs until he hovered over her, reminding him of the fast frenzy of this morning.

She stroked his cheek with soft fingertips. “No. It’s not too bad. But thank you for thinking to ask.”

Relief flowed through him, drawing him to taste her. He leaned into her slowly and kissed her. And, damn, he could still taste himself in her mouth. It was a fucking rush, knowing she’d pleasured him so freely, so selflessly. His hand skimmed up her belly, tugging at the cotton and caressing her breasts. She arched into his touch, allowing him to pull her shirt to her throat. “Lift,” he whispered, and then he removed it altogether. A flick of his hand behind her back bared her completely to his gaze.

Jesus, she was beautiful, soft perfection. Natural and real. With lots of curves and peaks and valleys and hidden places for him to explore. Her hands fisted in his shirt and dragged it up his stomach. With one hand, he reached over his shoulder and hauled it over his head.

And then he was on her. Kissing her mouth in urgent, aggressive twists of lips and tongue. Sucking and nipping down her neck and collarbones to her breasts. Teasing and tormenting her nipples. Becca writhed under him, her fingers plowing into his hair and trying to grip the short length. He’d actually worn it longer in Afghanistan to blend in with the locals, so he wasn’t opposed to growing it out again just so she could really pull it. The biting tugs against his scalp fucking turned him on because each one reflected her pleasure, her desire, her slow slide into abandon.

Easing onto his knees, he kissed her stomach, her hip bones, the inside of one soft thigh. “Put some pillows under your head, sunshine, because I want to watch your face.” He waited for her to comply, a small, sexy smile curving her lips, and then he slid his hands under her thighs, guided her knees onto his shoulders, and stroked his tongue through her wetness. Her sweet taste and her ecstatic cry rocketed down his body, turning his cock to steel and making him yearn to get in her. But not before he drank in her pleasure.

Alternating flicks and circles with flat sweeps of his tongue, he explored and tormented her. He penetrated her with one finger, then two, remembering what she’d seemed to like this morning and drawing out her arousal until her hips bucked and thrashed and her hands fisted in the sheets. He strapped her down with his forearm and sucked her clit into his mouth.

He’d thought her beautiful before, but her face was a total stunner when she wore that mask of pleasure—eyes hooded, almost like she was drowsy, mouth open, and lips wet.

“Nick,” she rasped. “Don’t stop.”

He smiled against her, stopping the furthest thing from his mind, and redoubled his efforts, licking, sucking, fucking her with his fingers. A long, low whine ripped from her throat as her muscles tightened around him, and then she was holding her breath, shaking, coming on his hand and mouth. The moment her body stilled, he withdrew, shoved down his jeans, and then cursed a blue storm at the laces on his boots.

She laughed, and he pretended to scowl at her as he finally got his feet free.

“Think that’s funny, do ya?”

Grinning, she nodded. “I like you eager.”

He threw the jeans and boxers somewhere behind him. “Eager’s my middle fucking name when I’m around you.” Nick retrieved a condom from the box he’d opened only this morning. Standing between her spread thighs, he rolled it on. “You are going to feel so good,” he said, looking her over and loving every damn thing he saw. The tousled blond hair, the flush on her face, and the beautiful feminine curves all called to him, but it was the adoration in her eyes that most got to him. It sent him flying to the heavens with a feeling of completion, and it threatened to splinter him to pieces because he’d never fully deserve it.

A moment of doubt flickered through him, stilling his hand on his cock and rooting his feet to the floor. Goddamnit.

Becca shoved the pillows further up the bed and scooted backward, her hands reaching out to him. “Come be with me,” she said.

Like she knew. She knew he’d gotten stuck there at the edge of the bed.

Her words drew him forward until his knees were between her thighs and his hands were braced on either side of her head. “Are you sure about this?”

She combed her fingers through the sides of his hair. “Completely.”

Thank God. “Good, because I want you so damn much.” He kissed her, took his cock in hand, and guided himself to her entrance. “Aw, damn,” he groaned as he pushed inside. Hot. Tight. Wet. He pulled out and sank back in, gaze on her face, watching her struggle to keep her eyes open as he rocked in and out of her core.

Her short nails bit at his neck and shoulders, and then he settled his weight fully upon her. Skin on skin. The connection wasn’t just physical. Not for him. And the emotion in her eyes told him not for her, either.

Nick buried his face in her neck and grasped the top of her head with one hand. God, he needed to get closer, deeper, as far inside as she could take him. His hips withdrew and plunged forward, rolling to drag pressure against her clit. She grasped his back and moaned in time with his thrusts and rocked her hips to meet his. Even as his lower back started to ache, she was still the best fucking thing he’d ever felt. He’d pushed through it this morning, so he could do it again. He flipped a mental bird at his injuries, because no way was he missing out on a moment of this experience, nor shorting Becca even an ounce of pleasure.

“You okay?” he rasped against her ear before kissing the delicate shell of skin.

Her chuckle was deep and throaty, and drew his gaze to her face. She leaned up and kissed him. “I’ve never been more okay in my life.”

He grinned, identifying with the sentiment and feeling it slip into the dark places in his soul and light them up.

A sharp twist of muscle in his back made him suck in a breath and clench his jaw. He gritted through. Leftover soreness from his fight. He was going to kick Beckett’s ass for making him think of the guy during sex.

“Hey.” Her hand smoothed over his forehead and cheek.

Opening his eyes, he found concern mixing with arousal in her expression. Damnit. He kissed her, hating the thought of anything ruining their moment.

“What’s the matter?” she whispered against his lips.

“Not a damn thing.”

She pushed on his chest, and he frowned. But she was smiling, a bit of mischievousness in her eyes. “Turn over,” she said. “And sit against the headboard.”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”

Rixey pushed the pillows upright and settled against them, relief flowing into his back at the change in position. He couldn’t think on that long, though, because she straddled him and sank down onto his cock in one torturously good slide.

One hand on the headboard and one on his shoulder, she rode him, her core sucking him in, her clit rubbing against his stomach, her nipples dragging against his chest. He skimmed his hands up and down her back, grabbing her hips and thrusting deeper when he couldn’t stand the nearly nonexistent distance between them.

“God, Nick, I’m going to come again.”

The words shoved him a giant step toward his own release. “Good. I want to feel it.” He latched on a nipple, sucking and tugging and teasing with his teeth. She moaned and tossed her head back, her body arching against him and the tips of her hair tickling his hands on her hips.

Her muscles squeezed, a slow, sure clamping down on his cock that had him growling low in his throat. “Yes, sunshine. Come all over me.”

She sank all the way down on him, taking him in to the balls, and ground her hips hard and fast against him. Fingers digging into her sweet ass, he rocked her hips forward and backward on his dick, grinding her clit against his stomach.

And then she was coming, groaning, milking his body with her release. Her arousal flowed over him, hot and slick, and he lifted her hips and slammed her down, once, twice, three times. His orgasm was an out-of-control freight train tearing down his spine.

“Fuck, Becca,” he gritted out as his cock erupted inside her. He thrust deep, rocking his hips as his mind and body went to pieces. And then he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her chest.

BECCA’S HEART BEAT so fast she was almost dizzy. And it wasn’t just because of the incredible sex or the multiple orgasms, though those had been bone-meltingly good. It was because everything about Nick—his touch, his smile, the intense emotion in his eyes—all insisted she wasn’t alone in this crazy, whirlwind connection. Which was really, really good. Since it was really freaking likely she was in love with him.

She might’ve questioned how she could feel something so deeply for someone she’d known for only a couple of days, but Nick had been with her every step of the way through the worst moments of her life. She felt a bond with him she’d never felt with anyone else.

The loneliness, the emptiness, the sense of dislocation she’d felt as, one by one, she’d lost nearly every member of her family? They were mostly gone. When they found Charlie—because they would—she’d be totally whole again.

And it was all because of Nick.

She wrapped her arms around him, one around his back and the other around his head, and held him tight. Words sat on the tip of her tongue, and she had to press her lips to his soft hair to keep them from spilling out. She didn’t want to come off like a lovestruck teenager. Even though inside she kinda felt like one.

He kissed the skin above her heart and pulled back, and then he kissed her. Soft, sweet, worshipful kisses that sent a sheltering cocoon of warmth over her skin. She loved him all affectionate like this.

Slipping his hand between them, he said, “Better deal with this. Be right back.”

She rose off his lap, hating to let him go. He gave her one last kiss as he removed the condom and walked across the room. The dragon on his back seemed almost alive as it moved over his muscles.

Her gaze lit on the full mass of scar tissue on his left hip and upper butt cheek. She’d have to find a way to broach how much pain he’d been in a few moments before. No way she was asking in the middle of sex and risk making him feel bad, but for a moment distress had been clear on his expression.

Her gaze dragged downward. More tattoos adorned his legs, but she could only make out the line of black and blue nautical stars on the outside of his right calf.

Man, he was a fine sight, scars and ink and all. “Nice ass,” she said, her mouth running away with her thoughts.

The laughter he unleashed was the sweetest thing.

Grinning to herself, she settled against the pillows, still warm from his body. He reappeared from the hallway a few moments later, hint of a grin on his lips. Back in bed, he crawled in over her and came to rest with his head on her stomach, his arms wrapping underneath her back.

She ran her fingers through his hair, and his expression was pure contentment.

“What’s the tattoo on your left leg? I could make out the stars, but not the words.”

“It’s says, ‘All Gave Some, Some Gave All.’ ”

Her fingers kept moving, as if his words and the sentiment behind them didn’t lodge a knot in her throat.

A few moments later, he shifted his hips like he was trying to get comfortable. Then again, he was lying on his stomach, which he’d told her bothered his back. “Hey, Nick?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

His eyes flew open, the lashes tickling her stomach. “Always.”

“How much did your back hurt?”

He released a long breath, his eyebrows making his displeasure at the topic clear. “You could tell?”

She gave him a little smile. “Only because you made a face. Not because of anything you did, which was all amazing, by the way.”

The corner of his lip quirked up. “I didn’t even think . . .” He shrugged his big shoulder. “Being with you today was the first time since . . .” He pressed his face into her stomach with a groan. “It was probably just because of the fight with Beckett.”

Wait. Was he really saying she was the first person he’d had sex with in over a year? “The first time you had sex since you were shot,” she finished for him.

He rested his chin on her stomach, and his eyes were a shade less confident than usual. “Yeah.”

Inside, she was jumping up and down at the news, but she didn’t want him to feel any more awkward about it. “Could be the fight. The counter dug into you pretty hard. But, if it’s not, next time we’ll just find the position that feels the best. Kama Sutra says there’s over sixty of them, so I bet we can find a few.”

“Next time, huh?” he said, his expression filling with humor and promise.

She smiled. “Mmhmm.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Me, too.” She dragged her fingers over his shoulder for a moment, then she met his gaze. “But you gotta tell me if something hurts. Okay? The last thing I want is to hurt you.”

He nodded his head, digging his chin into her belly and tickling her. She flinched and laughed, but then his expression went serious. “I want to apologize for this morning,” he said.

Becca traced a design against his skin. “What happened this morning? Did I do some—”

“No. It wasn’t you at all. There’s shit that happened in Afghanistan that I can’t tell you about, and I haven’t made peace with it. It blindsided me this morning and sent me to a dark place.”

Her heart squeezed. “I can’t imagine everything you dealt with over there. Just know you can talk to me. Okay? Even if it’s to tell me you need some space.”

He kissed her stomach and nodded, his eyes ablaze with emotion.

“Can I tell you something else?” Nerves had her stomach doing a loop-the-loop, but she couldn’t let this go unsaid.

Nick arched an eyebrow. “Okay.”

“What you said to Jeremy earlier . . . I just wanted to tell you it would matter to me, too. If something happened to you. It would matter to me a lot.” A sting pricked at the back of her eyes, and she blinked it away.

He rolled onto his side and stroked his fingers over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Light, teasing touches meant to explore and comfort rather than to arouse, although just being in his presence accomplished that. He kissed the valley between her breasts and whispered, “So beautiful.” And then he was quiet, seemingly preoccupied with her skin.

Had she said too much? It didn’t seem like she’d made him uncomfortable. Maybe he just didn’t know what to say? Becca sank back into the pillows and watched him look at her. Such a gorgeous man.

“Would you let me do something?” he finally asked, voice low and suddenly serious.

She smiled. “Probably.”

“Be right back.” He pushed off the bed and disappeared into the hallway again. What was he up to? When he returned, he had a fistful of pens.

“What are they for?”

He crawled in bed next to her, then met her gaze.

“I want to draw on you. Bad.” Even in the dim light, his eyes blazed, his expression intense and so damn hungry.

Heat shot through her body, sending a tingle of thrill through her core. “Okay,” she whispered.

“Skin markers.” He held up five pens. “Nontoxic. They’ll wash off. Eventually.” He winked and laid the pens in the crook of skin where her thighs met. “Don’t drop them.”

They were cool against her still-heated flesh. She chuckled, but his enthusiasm was sexy as all hell. “What happens if I do?”

“I’ll have to go exploring for them.” He picked the black marker and uncapped it.

“And this is a disincentive?”

His deep chuckle puffed against her belly as he leaned in and drew a long line down the left side of her rib cage. God, she loved the sound of his laugh. “Don’t move, now.”

Which of course made her want to lean up to see what he was doing. She laced her fingers together to fight the urge to play with his hair or stroke his shoulders. “I wanna see.”

“No, you just feel. For now. Trust me.” More lines.

“I do.” As the pen traced over her skin, a line here, a curve there, a bit of shading all in one place that was really hard to sit still through, she watched him work. Nick’s intense eyes and angular face and big hands were all incredibly masculine. It made his artistic eye and the softness of the pen against her skin so much more intriguing.

And it was so freaking arousing.

The whole time he drew, her nipples were peaked and straining. Dampness grew between her legs. How she could think of sex again after just having two amazing orgasms, Becca didn’t know, but she was tempted to drop the pens between her legs just to see what he’d do.

He scooted down the bed and drew on the side of her belly, over her hip, and onto her upper thigh. Trading out pen colors, he added to the drawing in yellow and blue and red. As his hands and eyes and ink moved over her, she became more and more certain she wanted Nick Rixey to tattoo her for real, to put his mark on her exterior the way he’d done inside. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday.

It was one of the most sensual and erotic moments of her life.

“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.