Been There Done That (Leffersbee #1) - Hope Ellis Page 0,108

Nick’s Bandit Lake rental. The location itself was unparalleled, tucked away along a bend of the river I’d never known existed. Nick’s driver dropped us off just as twilight coaxed the last bit of splendor from the dying sunlight, painting the horizon in a stunning display of purples and pinks. The lake teemed with life and the air filled with the cacophony of cave crickets, katydids and cicadas. Splashes sounded as beavers, ducks, and all forms of wildlife frolicked in the lake.

The interior of the open-concept home was even more impressive with a solid, two-story glass wall that provided a jaw-dropping view of the river.

I paced the length of the living room, pretending to take an interest in the rustic furnishings, the expansive skylight overhead and its unfettered view of the heavens.

I resisted the urge to bite my nails.

I was terrified.

It had seemed simple enough when I agreed to accompany Nick back to his house. Hell, I’d had my breast in his mouth and been shamelessly grinding all over his lap only a few hours before.

I’d presented my award to the ACS muckety-mucks, endured about an hour of small talk, and patiently addressed all of Jackson’s concerns when I told him I was going home with Nick.

Nick held my hand the entire ride back to Green Valley. We’d behaved ourselves behind the opaque partition separating us from the driver, but the air was swollen with the weight of expectation. There was no mistaking the lascivious gleam in Nick’s eyes.

“I can’t wait,” he’d said, his teeth catching deliciously on my earlobe in a way that produced a clenching in my underwear.

And that’s when the panic hit.

I wanted this. I wanted Nick. I wanted his body. I wanted to connect with him in that way again. I wanted all the sexy things to happen tonight.

But a dark voice intruded into my thoughts, pricked my confidence and the sumptuous lust cloud I’d been riding. The same voice that always pointed out I would never have the same thighs or waistline as the model on the Peloton commercials.

So when Nick ushered me in and invited me to get comfortable while he took Sir Duke out for the dog’s evening constitutional, I’d been relieved.

Then I’d abruptly panicked again when the tortuous internal whispering resumed. My mind whirred through the Google results list of all the women Nick had dated. Actresses. Models. Heiresses. All tight-bodied, with perfect skin, TV hair, and dainty features.

It was almost a certainty that none of those women wore a size ten shoe.

Or an eight double-wide.

Whatever.

By the time Nick and Sir Duke came back, I was downright terrified.

Nick gave Sir Duke a command I only half heard, and the dog scampered off to another room.

We both listened as canine feet skittered away into the adjoining rooms. Our gazes connected.

Sweat dripped down my back.

Great, Zora. You’re off to a great start, before the action even starts.

Nick frowned at me and started forward.

I took a step back.

“Zora, is everything okay?” His expression softened as he took another step closer. I willed myself to stay still. “Are you nervous? You don’t have to be. I know we got off to a, er, good start at the party, but we don’t have to do anything tonight. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’d be happy to just hold you again.”

I nodded maniacally, my gaze still on Nick as he took quiet, stealthy steps forward until he was directly in front of me.

“I want to do this. I do. I’ve been wanting it, thinking about it for a while now,” I admitted, shivering when Nick’s eyes darkened at my admission. “I just got to thinking.”

Slowly, he reached for me, hands settling on my back, pulling me into the hard surface of him. Clever fingertips dug into the taut muscles around my neck, dipped into the reef of my spine, elicited pleasurable spasms.

“What are you thinking, baby?”

I blinked. “Baby?”

You know, it could just work. I could get used to that.

“My asshole isn’t bleached.”

His hands and all their clever machinations stilled.

He burst out laughing and pulled me to into his shaking chest.

“I’m serious,” I said. My hands went around him too, coasted along the planes of his back and all that hard, striated muscle. Whew. Hot.

Down, Celeste.

“Zora . . .” He wiped a tear from his eye, then dissolved into another round of laughing. “Why on earth is that on your mind right now?”

I shrugged. “It’s the truth. I just wanted to make it