Sweet As Sin

12

I looked directly into his eyes so he would see that I meant business. I wasn’t just another groupie or roadie or whatever those girls who threw themselves at rock stars were called. I had self-respect.

Battered though it might be, I still had it.

But Nico surprised me. He didn’t flinch at my words. He didn’t look one bit ashamed, as I’d hoped he would. He just stared right back at me with that intensity. His eyes were shadowed now, their color shifting like quicksilver with the light.

“Avery isn’t my girlfriend.”

Unbelievable. He thought I was an i***t.

“Oh really? You might want to tell Avery that. I’m no language expert, but I’m pretty sure ‘mi amor’ doesn’t mean ‘good buddy.’ Besides, you already told me she was your girlfriend!”

“Said she was my girl, not my girlfriend.”

What a load of bullshit. I turned away. “That’s a pretty fine point of distinction. I’m sure my ex used the exact same line on one of the many chicks he screwed behind my back.”Nico took my chin in his hand, and turned my face to his. His eyes were flinty, his fingers on my jaw were firm.

“One thing you should know about me, Kat. I’m no angel. I’ve been runnin’ wild since I was seventeen. But I’m not a fuckin’ liar. I don’t tell a woman she’s mine and then mess around behind her back. If Avery and I were together, I wouldn’t lay a finger on you. I wouldn’t even flirt with you, no matter how bad I wanted you.” His gaze dropped to my lips. His voice grew husky. “No matter how much I want that beautiful mouth all over my body. Suckin’ me off. Screamin’ my name when I’m buried balls deep inside you.”

I lay there gaping, my mind blank. A flush of heat pulsed between my legs. His gaze came back to mine and that pulse of heat expanded to encompass both of us. Scorching. Intoxicating.

Wrong.

Whatever this madness was, I had to put a stop to it.

I tried to pull away, but he pinned me to his side. “Nico,” I protested.

He shook his head, all hard eyes and hard jaw and hotness. “Not lettin’ you run away just ’cause you’re scared, darlin’. Not how it works when you’re with me.”

“I’m not with you!” It came out as a hiss. If it wouldn’t have ended up splashed across all the tabloids, I would have slapped him across the face, he was so infuriating.

“Not yet.” His voice was dark with promise. He sounded utterly certain, like it was a foregone conclusion that I would be his.

I would not be a foregone conclusion.

“Please help me up.”

My tone was cold. Judging by the look on his face, Nico didn’t like it.

“Kat—”

“Nico, no. Just no. Please stop it. I’m not a toy. You need to respect what I’m telling you. I’m flattered, but I’m not interested in anything except getting through today, and getting back to real life. Okay?”

He paused, gauging my tone. “Okay.”

Relief swept through me. Disappointment, too, but I ignored that. I shouldn’t have been too relieved, however, because Nico wasn’t done with me yet.

“I’ll let you up on one condition: prove you’re not attracted to me.”

I glared at him. “Would you prefer me to stab you with one of my heels, or gouge your eyes out with my fingernails?”

“Nah. A kiss will do the job.”

Was I on drugs? Had I even gotten out of bed this morning? Maybe this was all an elaborate dream, and right now I was snug in bed with the covers pulled over my head. I stared at Nico, at a loss for what to do.

My body had a few ideas, but my brain wasn’t on board with any of them.

“I don’t kiss strange men.”

“I’m not a stranger. We’ve been introduced.” His fingers curled over the curve of my hip. His head dipped toward mine.

Breathing was becoming difficult. My face felt so hot it burned. “I don’t kiss men with girlfriends.”

“We already covered that. She’s not my girlfriend. Next excuse?”

My hands were flattened against his bare chest as I tried to push him away. My voice came out small. “I don’t want to.”

Nico shook his head, his eyes hot. “Such a fuckin’ liar,” he whispered.

Before I could react, he lowered his mouth to mine.

“Dude!”

“What a jerk.”

“An insanely hot jerk!”

“Yet a jerk, nonetheless.”

Grace wasn’t nearly as impressed by my scorching encounter with Nico as Chloe was. Older than Chloe and me by five years, Grace was a marriage and family therapist in Beverly Hills who had no time for players, bullshitters, or cheaters. She clearly had put Nico Nyx into all three categories.

Rightly so.

We were at Lula’s. It was past eight o’clock. I was on my second margarita, halfway through telling the story of my incredible, insane, impossible day.

“Please tell me you slapped him. Or at least didn’t kiss him back.” Grace waited for my answer, a chip loaded with salsa poised in the air on the way to her mouth.

“Um.”

Grace was scandalized. The chip fell to her plate. “Kat!”

“I couldn’t help it!”