She smiled at him. “Thank you.” She’d always been a tactile person and without thinking, she put her hand on his arm to emphasize her words. His hard—and big—biceps twitched beneath her fingertips and she jumped. But before she could pull away, he covered her hand with his.
Oh God, what was she doing? What made her think she could actually do this? What made her think she could go home with a total stranger?
Maybe if she’d had more experience with men she could have rolled with it better. But she couldn’t even handle touching his arm, for God’s sake! How was she possibly going to deal with seeing him naked?
Or touching him in other, much more intimate places?
Nicola belatedly realized Marcus was lightly stroking her hand with his fingers, as if she was a wild animal that needed to be calmed before it bolted. After only a handshake, and now this gentle caressing, she wasn’t sure he could ever touch her in a way that didn’t send her cells into Jell-O overdrive. And yet, at the same time, his gentle caresses were incredibly soothing.
Each stroke of his fingers over hers seemed to say, I understand that you’re nervous and that’s okay. I’m going to take good care of you tonight. Just as I didn’t rush you to make a decision to leave with me in the cab, I’m not going to rush you into anything you’re not ready for in bed, either.
Slowly relaxing again, she let herself scoot a little closer to him, close enough that it was pure instinct to lean her head against his broad shoulder. This time, she felt him tense beneath her touch. But before she could freak out about doing the wrong thing, he was wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in tighter.
Her body wanted to be close to his so badly that without any conscious thought or planning, she found herself turning so that her cheek was laid against his chest, the steady beat of his heart sounding against her ear. Nicola found herself smiling against his chest at the intimacy inherent in the way he’d pulled her closer on a groan of obvious need.
Intimate. Why did she keep thinking that word?
He was a stranger. This was going to be a night full of fun, hot sex. Nothing more.
A part of her wanted to ask him about his mother, to find out how many siblings he had, but she knew better, knew she had to tamp down that desire. Tonight was about a physical hookup. Not an emotional one. Hopefully, if things went really well, she’d finally experience the hot sex she’d never had before. Besides, if she sat here and quizzed him on his family, all the sizzle was bound to go out of their initial connection.
As the driver slowly wound through city traffic toward the address Marcus had given, Nicola silently counseled herself to remember to keep her boundaries in place during the next few hours. No matter how good sex with Marcus ended up being—and she could already tell just from the way he held her in his arms in the back of the cab that it had the potential to be great—she couldn’t make the mistake of connecting pleasure with love.
She didn’t know Marcus. He didn’t know her. As long as they made sure to keep things totally on the surface and all about pleasure, one night shouldn’t affect their futures.
Only, the truth she didn’t want to admit was that she already felt affected, simply by how good, how warm, how safe, she felt in the circle of his arms.
What, she found herself wondering, would it be like to have a man in my life who would be there to hold me like this every night?
Chapter Three
Nicola slipped into sleep, her breathing going slow and even, her previously tense muscles loosening against his.
Sweet.
God, she was so sweet, from the surprise in her big blue eyes when she realized she’d called his mother, to the fresh scent of strawberries in her hair, to her soft curves in his arms.
And now, she’d—very unexpectedly—fallen asleep in a complete stranger’s arms.
Whatever his mother had said to Nicola must have really relaxed her, to the point that she would let down her guard this much. And the truth was that he could take her anywhere right now, could have her bound up and gagged before she could wake up enough to fight him.
The thought of that happening to her—the thought of what kind of guy she could have gone home with—had his heart pounding hard in his chest and his hand moving to stroke her hair again. More to soothe himself than her, this time.
She made a soft sound in her sleep, burrowing in closer to him like a kitten in search of warmth.
He couldn’t help but be struck by the fact that nothing about his day had gone as planned, including this. They should have been checking into a hotel by now, getting ready to strip off each other’s clothes. Instead, they were pulling up in front of his brother Smith’s house in San Francisco and he was putting his finger to his lips as he paid the taxi driver, to let him know not to wake Sleeping Beauty.
As gently as he could, he lifted Nicola into his arms and out of the vehicle. Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to come awake. Looking down at her, he finally noticed the dark smudges beneath her long eyelashes. The club had been too dark for him to see the evidence of her exhaustion, but now he couldn’t deny that as much as a part of him wanted to wake her up to make good on the implied promise of hot sex that they’d made to each other in the club, he could see how desperately she needed this sleep.
“Shhh.” He couldn’t resist pressing his lips to her forehead and kissing her lightly. “You’re safe with me.”
Her eyelids opened then, her pretty eyes fuzzy with sleep as she softly said, “I know."
Her full lips that he’d been aching to kiss since the moment she’d walked up to him in the club and introduced herself moved up into a little smile before her eyes closed again.
Almost to the front door, Marcus had to stop and regain his bearings to keep from stumbling with her in his arms. Not because Nicola was the least bit heavy. For all her gorgeous curves, she was a tiny thing.
It was the trust in her eyes that had his knees weakening.