Part 25 (1/2)
Johnny could see Nicky visibly relax as the meal progressed, liquor a useful tranquilizer. After lunch, they played Ping-Pong and video games in the pool house, then swam and finished the afternoon on Johnny's putt-putt golf course. Jordi upstaged them all playing putt-putt golf-at least Nicky and Vernie. Nicky wasn't so sure about Johnny. But then, he always let his daughter win.
No rainy days existed in Jordi's world.
Except for the occasional views into her mother's life.
Added reason, no doubt, why Johnny protected his daughter when he could.
Dinner that evening was en famille and delightful. She could really get used to this style of happiness, Nicky reflected, her gaze on her host, who was in the process of teasing Vernie about the men in her past. ”The stories I've heard,” he said with a grin. ”Rumor has it you almost broke the bank in Vegas one time.”
Vernie was blus.h.i.+ng and smiling at the same time. ”I happened to have a good friend who owned the casino. Why shouldn't I win?” she lightly noted.
”And you bought yourself a house in the Hollywood Hills. Smart girl,” Johnny said, smiling.
”What can I say? Some people have more luck than others.” Vernie grinned. ”Present company included, of course.”
As if on cue, Johnny and Nicky's eyes met.
”Affirmative from where I'm sitting,” Johnny said, winking at Nicky.
”Daddy winked at Nicky! He likes her!” Jordi's gaze swiveled to Nicky. ”Do you like Daddy back? Say yes, say yes, Nicky! Come on!”
”Your father's very nice,” Nicky said, blus.h.i.+ng cherry red.
”See, Daddy, she likes you back! He never hollers, and he always lets you do whatever you want,” Jordi noted, her intent blue gaze on Nicky once again. ”I hope you stay with us forever... Tell her, Daddy, tell her she can stay!”
”Now, Jordi, that's enough,” Vernie interposed, stepping in to defuse an awkward situation. ”We don't have to tell your father what to do. He and Nicky can work things out for themselves.” Jordi was silenced but not inhibited. She smiled and included Nicky in all her future plans, from her favorite pep fest the first week of school to mall shopping and helping her practice her swimming.
His daughter's reaction to Nicky was definitely over the top, Johnny noted.
Especially since Jordi had only tolerated the few women he'd brought to the house in the past.
His daughter's vetting was significant.
Although he wasn't entirely sure how to deal with it.
Both pleased and uncomf ortable, he did what every red- blooded male did in similar situations.
He blew it off.
For propriety's sake, Nicky had been given her own bedroom. It was conveniently next door to Johnny's, however, so later that night, when the house had quieted, she heard her bedroom door open and couldn't help but smile. ”Are you sure everyone's sleeping?”
”They better be. Baby, I can't wait any longer.” Johnny had found himself actually counting the hours since he'd last slept with Nicky. An unprecedented act for a man who often couldn't remember who, when, and where, with the number of women pa.s.sing through his life.
”I've been thinking of you -a lot -since getting into bed,” Nicky murmured, watching him approach in the moonlight.
”Sounds like you might be in the mood.”
”Sorta, kinda.”
”Is that equivocation I hear? Have I lost my touch?” He was stripping off his robe as he approached.
”It's not about you. It's about that stuff this morning. I'm having trouble getting it out of my head.” Although the sight of such gorgeous male splendor was a start, she decided, her libido already taking note in spades.
”I wish I could make it all go away.” And he would very soon if his plans all came to fruition. Lifting the covers, he slid into bed beside her. ”You're safe here now,” he murmured, bending to kiss her. ”Nothing and no one can hurt you.”
His kiss was soft and gentle, a balm to her anxieties, the scent of his cologne familiar and comforting, the warmth of his body a bulwark against all uncertainty. A kind of snug, agreeable security encompa.s.sed her as he took her in his arms and made the world disappear-or at least diminish to the sweet, restricted environs of blissful desire. ”I'll make you forget,” he murmured, easing his body over hers. ”I promise.”
”That would be nice.” Sliding her hands over his shoulders, she pulled him close. ”I could use some of your brand of forgetfulness ... ”
”Good, 'cause-”
”You can't wait,” Nicky interposed, liking that they were both obsessed.
”He can't wait,” Johnny corrected, his grin sweet and s.e.xy at the same time, the head of his erection nudging her s.e.x.
But as he entered her, he did so with abstemious forbearance, as though he understood how vulnerable she still was. He eased into her sleek pa.s.sage slowly, delicately, as though she needed calming.
Although his c.o.c.k forcing its way inside her was doing the complete opposite, and by the time he'd reached target point and she was gorged full, she was faint with longing. Not that his solicitude and concern for her feelings weren't equally powerful aphrodisiacs. She was warmed heart and soul, along with other more pertinent portions of her anatomy, which were pulsing and throbbing, awash with l.u.s.t, and craving more. Had her brain not been increasingly focused on those nerve centers immediately adjacent to his erection-as in surrounding it-she would have told him his skill at inducing forgetfulness, was prime. If only she weren't waiting breathlessly for his next dexterous stirring inside her, she might have been able to operate that brain-to-tongue mechanism required for speech.
”How's this?” he murmured, sliding his hands under her bottom, lifting her higher to meet his smooth downstroke. ”Is this better?”
As if he didn't know, she thought, so overwhelmed by spiking pleasure, she would have replied in poetic verse if she could have formed the words.
She tried-because she adored the poet Hafiz who knew all about pa.s.sion-but her breathy reply was inaudible, incoherent, and definitely nonpoetic.
But Johnny understood, because he was feeling the same speechless delight. After all the years of f.u.c.king other women, he'd finally lucked out-all that s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g mere prologue to this-the real thing.
s.h.i.+fting into a languid rhythm, he set about memorizing every tiny fold and furrow in her slick, silken pa.s.sage. It was an exercise in offering pleasure, but perhaps he was marking her c.u.n.t as well-performing the human equivalent of leaving his scent so he'd be able to recognize her as his, eyes shut in the dark.
After having survived the fear and terror of the morning, Nicky willingly gave herself up to sensual bliss and oblivion, welcoming the waves of carnal pleasure as a benevolent gift.
A gift as wondrous and unco mmon as the man affording her th at delight.
”You're the best,” she whispered, her words infused with the full impress of l.u.s.t and tender emotion bombarding her senses. ”The very best...”
What the h.e.l.l did that mean? The best of what? he resentfully thought. A hundred other men? Raf this morning, if he'd been able to stay? Some guy next week or the week after?
Jealousy had him in its steely grip-this a man who hadn't understood the word existed a week ago.
”Tell me you feel this,” he muttered, pulling her forcefully into his downstroke, impelled by male prerogatives previously beyond his ken, the thought of Raf and Yuri having seen her almost undressed suddenly filling his brain, the thought of other men f.u.c.king her-Jesus! ”Tell me you're mine,” he growled, as though he'd lost his senses.
” Yes, yes, yes,” she breathed, her climax beginning to swamp her senses, willing to cede him anything as she trembled on the brink.
Gratified, he smiled-this man who had prided himself on never needing a woman. ”Scream if you want,” he murmured, giving her permission in his newfound role of authority. ”No one can hear.”
Immune to his novel, proprietary feelings, she only thought- How did he know she was stifling a scream? And then a second later it didn't matter, because he'd swung his hips out and back in again, harder this time, and then again and again-so violently her impending o.r.g.a.s.m exploded in a flame-hot rush and her half -smothered cry was ripped from her throat.
Ecstasy flooded over her in ten-foot-high waves. Hot, foaming waves that picked her up bodily and held her suspended in a s.h.i.+mmering, glowing, outrageously hedonistic sensation of bliss.