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I stare at his expressionless face, his concentration unnecessarily focused on the completely straight and empty road ahead. My gaze darts to his large hands confidently gripping the steering wheel. His thick fingers are more suited to a prizefighter than a financier. I wonder what he’s thinking? And what does he have planned? Will he treat me like the child I used to be and leave the woman disappointed again?
It’s not a long way back from the small town of Cuthbert, about ten or fifteen minutes, so despite my nerves, we’re pulling into the driveway before I know it. I ignore Nick’s frown when I open the car door instead of waiting for him to come around. “Relax. I’m not helpless. It’s still hot out, so why should we both be more uncomfortable?”
I think I hear him mutter ‘from the mouths of babes,’ but I can’t be sure. He follows me through the door and I watch as he inspects the locks before nodding with approval as he engages them. Now what? My fingers start twisting together involuntarily.
Nick’s gaze drops to my hands and his expression softens. “Come then, little mouse. It’s time to confess your secrets.” Without a word of warning beyond that, he picks me up and carries me into the sunken living room, the one I mentally refer to as the cool room. When he sits down on the sofa, I naturally come with him and I find myself sitting on his lap sideways with my legs extended down the length of the cushions. I frown at my knees for no particular reason except that it means I don’t have to meet his expectant gaze.
“Why do I have to confess anything? Don’t you have some things to explain to me first?” I mutter to break the tension.
“Because your needs take priority, Candace. Always. So it’s important that I not misinterpret your blushes.”
“A year, Nick. I gave you a year and you never even kissed me.” A single tear slides down my cheek and Nick catches it on the end of a blunt finger.
He sighs heavily. “And you apparently weren’t grieving, like I thought. You have no idea how sweet you are, little one. One taste and I would never be able to let you go. I don’t see how I can even now.”
“Then why don’t you…” I plead, but I can’t find the words to finish that sentence — fuck me? Kiss me at the very least?
Nick takes one hand away from my hip where he’s been holding me and waggles his fingers in front of my face. “I’m a big man, Candace. Too big for a little thing like you. And too old as well. I tried to give you the space to be around people your age, but I could never stay completely away. I’m sorry.”
I stare at his fingers, so thick and long, and then scan his face. He believes all that. The sincerity of his apology shines in his dark eyes. “You’re not that old. You’re only eighteen years older than me,” I mutter while glaring at him.
“As I said, you’re very sweet, little mouse. That’s too old for a young woman only just into adulthood. Why would you want to tie yourself to a man who lives in spreadsheets when you should be out attending balls and galas every night?”
I throw up my hands at his sheer hard-headedness. “Nick, would a woman who wanted to attend balls and galas nightly give that up to move toKansas?”
He blinks and then smiles slowly. “Maybe that’s an exaggeration. But it doesn’t make me any younger.”
I scan his biceps with an analytical eye. For a man who claims to live in spreadsheets, he’s awfully fit. “So how are we going to resolve this? Arm wrestle? Because if so, I demand a significant handicap.”
5
“Not exactly,” Nick responds to my snarky question with amusement. “Despite my misgivings, I’m thinking we’ll do a little experiment with compound interest.”
I groan, mostly because I know he expects me to. As my dad’s friend, his brief attempts to interest me in finance when I was figuring out what I wanted to do with my life after high school were painful for both of us. I get the principle of it but just tell me the result at the end, please?
Of course, that’s how most of the world feels, which is why Nick is wealthy because they pay him to worry about everything in between. And I mostly spent those lessons surreptitiously learning everything about him that I could from his early childhood in the slums of Leningrad to exactly what it takes to make the elusive dimple in his left cheek appear.
“This time will be a little different, Candace. You will be much more personally invested in the day-to-day process, trust me.” The wicked twinkle in his dark eyes is enticing and damn, there’s that dimple. This really is going to be interesting.
“Okay. What’s the experiment then?” I’m still not getting how interest rates intersect with our relationship.
“Your shyness is adorable, little one. But it holds you back and… quite frankly, makes it hard for me to know what you want. You don’t want to tell me your secrets, so… you will have to be brave. If you are, you will be rewarded.”
I frown hard at him. I’m only really shy around him because he’s so… so much. I don’t see how I could ever measure up, and this isn’t inspiring me with confidence so far.
“You have six weeks to accumulate 10,000 points. You get one hundred points for every orgasm you request and receive. Your points will compound weekly at five percent.” He pauses to watch my face. I’m busy scrunching it up trying to work that out.
“Isn’t that like a thousand orgasms?”
“No. It would be a hundred and only if you wait until the last day.” He gives me a disappointed glare for getting the basic math wrong. “Luckily for you, this isn’t a math test, but more of a gauge of your interest. The earlier and more often you ask me to touch you, the more I will believe you have deeper feelings than just a young girl’s crush.”
“It’s not a freaking crush,” I mutter, while twisting my hands nervously. This all sounds… like I’m missing critical pieces. “What are you leaving out?” I squint at him, trying my best to look intimidating, which only makes that damn dimple flash again.
“I don’t know what you mean.” He widens his eyes innocently, and it’s about as convincing as my attempts to look scary.
“So hypothetically, I just walk up to you and say ‘Hey, Mr. Savage, I fancy an orgasm now’ and then you’ll take me to bed and fuck me senseless?” My voice rises in disbelief.
“Err, no. But now that you bring it up, you’ll get an extra five points for the day if you call me Mr. Savage when you make your requests.” He smirks down at me like he knows me well enough to guess that I won’t want to do that now. Except I do because I can tell that he likes having that little verbal nod to his authority. I’ll save that bonus card for later.
