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“Fine!” I laugh at her pleading puppy dog eyes. “Fine. I will do the bedrooms, but you will not pay me. I will happily do it in exchange for the reference and pictures for my portfolio.”
“Deal!” Shannon squeals in excitement. “Gotta love having successful kids. I get to reap all the perks!”
She smiles wide, her eyes brimming with pride. I love this house. It harbors all my good memories. I shudder to imagine the person I’d be today if I didn’t have the love and support of the Conners family. Meeting Joanna Hunter was the single greatest thing to ever happen to me.
“Ready to talk about why you’re really here?” Shannon takes a sip of her wine, eyeing me knowingly.
Busted.
“Please tell me you’re going tonight,” I plead, my bottom lip jutting out in a pout.
Shannon snickers. “Don’t do the face. You know that doesn’t work on me.”
I stick my lip out farther, batting my eyes for added effect.
“You look like you’re having a seizure. Knock it off. Yes, I’m going. It’s one of the few charity events that can convince me to tolerate the stuck-up snobs of this city for a night.”
“Yesss!” I hiss, shimmying my shoulders in celebration.
Every February, the wealthy elite of Queen City gather for a benefit to raise money for sick children. This year, they will be donating the proceeds to the pediatric cancer ward of the local hospital. Few actually give a shit. It’s just an opportunity for them all to dress up and have an extravagant night out while they try to one-up each other in the silent auction.
“How’d you get roped into it?”
Reaching for my glass of wine, I sigh. “My dad backed out last minute. Some work-related thing. And God forbid my mother have to attend solo. Whatever would everyone think?” I gasp, feigning a look of horrified shock.
“Mitch isn’t looking forward to it, either. He’s definitely hoping I’ll let him off the hook, but if I have to suffer, then so does he.”
“That’s right, Ma. You tell him!” I giggle, toasting her with my wine.
“Who we telling what?” The deep voice rolls through the room like a wave, sweeping me up in its current.
My body tenses, the shock of his unexpected arrival causing me to almost drop the long-stemmed glass I’m holding.
Nicky C.—my own personal brand of kryptonite—comes strolling in wearing a royal blue suit like he’s doing it a favor. His jacket hangs open, exposing the rich dark fabric of his black button-down beneath. The image he exudes is one of power, a deadly combination of confidence and rebellion, gift-wrapped in red flags. The room threatens to collapse on me as he enters, the walls unable to bear the weight of the history we share.
It’s unnerving, the physical reaction his mere presence invokes within me. He’s still the only man to ever make my heart race, which is ironic considering how many times the asshole has shattered it. And yet, no matter how much time or space is forced between us, the hold he has over me remains unwavering. I haven’t seen him since we locked eyes at Savor last month, and I typically prefer it that way. While out of sight doesn’t equate to out of mind when it comes to him, it does at least allow me the ability to function.
“Hey, sweetie!” Shannon’s face lights up. Holding her arms out wide, she beckons him to her. “Two of my kids in one day? What did I do to deserve this treat?”
Nicky bends down, planting a kiss on her cheek as she pulls him in for a hug.
“Hey, Ma.” He stands back to his full height, his six-foot-four frame towering over us before he drops into the seat at the head of the table. He leans back, like a king lounging on his throne, as his gaze shifts my way. “Daph,” he acknowledges me. Nicky’s eyes lazily roam the length of my body, and even though my entire lower half is concealed by the table, it still feels all too intimate.
Memories deluge my mind, some so vivid it feels as though I’m transported back to specific moments in time. Nicky beneath me as I ride him. His large hand reaching up to wrap around my throat, fingers tightening against my pulse points.
“That’s it, dirty girl. Ride me. Fuuuuck, the way you move those hips is fucking obscene.”
I quicken my pace, grinding my clit against his pubic bone, his cock buried to the hilt as I continue to roll my hips. “Jesus, I love the way you feel inside me,” I pant.
Nicky releases his hold from my throat, moving to my hips. He grips me, fingers digging into my skin with bruising force.
“Yeah?” he asks. “You like the way my dick feels pounding into you?” The muscles in Nicky’s corded forearms flex as he holds me in place. He begins punching his hips upward, each powerful thrust catapulting me closer to my impending orgasm.
“Oh, fuck,” I moan. “Nicky, I’m gonna come.”
“Do it. Come, baby. I’m right there with you.”
“Let me hop off. I want to swallow you.”
