He senses my discomfort, misunderstands it completely, backs up a step, straightening his spine. “What were you going to ask me?”
Struggling to remember how to form actual sentences, I take a sip of liquid courage. “I was going to ask how many brothers your dad has? You mentioned one. I know you have a lot of cousins, but I’ve never stalked your family or anything past reading up on Gabriel when he got married. A lot of people were talking about it—I wasn’t interested in him, personally or anything,” I hurriedly reassure Nicholas, as if that’s even necessary. I’m sure he’s just talking to me as a friend, because we went through that fire and have Bucky in common.
With little effort, as casual and confident as he always is, Nicholas explains, “There are six total. Five plus my father, who’s the youngest.”
“Any sisters?”
“All boys. But Grandma Nance got her girls in the grandchildren.” He pauses and adds for clarity, “My cousins. There are seventeen all told. Sixteen plus me.”
“I can do math,” I tease him on a smile. It fades as he stares at it.
Am I imagining this chemistry we have?
Nicholas drags a hand through his soft hair. It falls into place as if he never touched it.
I’m staring at the perfect waves as he says, “I’m closest to my siblings, even though our family is close. The older cousins are really tight, and their younger siblings got wrapped into that package. Our immediate household had four already tied in, so we stuck together, and then my friend Matthew came along for the ride—that makes five. Not that you can’t add.” I laugh and he continues, “It’s me, Zoe, Wyatt then Nathan. Matt’s my age.”
“I like Matt, he seems like a good guy.”
“The best.” His eyes flicker, and he takes my chin, murmurs, “Madison…”
“Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
I whisper, “Oh God…yes,” right before his lips brush mine.
We’re in a corner, the place so packed that if sardines walked in they’d say we were cramped. Nobody can see his left hand, by the wall, sliding down the side of my body, slipping around the front and hesitating above my zipper as his body blocks the other side from sight.
He starts to kiss me and it’s everything I thought it would be. Nicholas moans as our tongues meet, and he begins teasing me, biting my bottom lip and holding it a second, then pulling away to lock eyes with me, smiling and coming back in for more.
I wanted this to be me.
All those other times.
And now here I am.
“Madison,” he rasps, barely audible. “What if I just…” Those fingers dip over the belt line of my pants and brazenly slide under.
My breath hitches, “Someone will see!”
“No one can see my hand. They just think we’re kissing.”
He licks my tongue and then sucks on it a little as his fingers slip inside my panties. “Fuck, you feel good.”
The kiss intensifies as his fingers rub in slow circles above my cleft.
He can’t yet tell how wet I am.
How fast my heart pounds for more.
“This is not real,” I breathe as he continues massaging me into a daze. “Not real,” I repeat against the dream I’m swimming in.
“How about this?” he whispers, “This real, Madison?” sliding his fingers a little lower. Then lower still.
God help me, I crane my hips toward him, aching with need and he moans into my mouth. His tongue licks mine, plays with it while talented fingers slide into my folds and pause there.
Thickly he murmurs, “You’re wet. That’s real, too.”
He tucks us closer against the wall, his busy hand hidden and stroking me, tickling my shocked and greedy clit, circling it with the sweetest slowness, barely touching me and then getting firm, and then lightening the stroke again.
Fucking.
Torture.
He’s aiming to make me cum right next to the coolest people in Atlanta. I’m gripping his bicep, nearly cutting through his tense flesh with nails I’ve finally let grow.
His bulge is exactly as I expected.
Huge.
Hard.
Hot.
Only this time it’s pulsing for me.
I whimper in his panting lips, “Stop, oh my God, I can’t stop.”
We lock eyes for a second. He rasps, “You really want me to? Because it feels like you’re about to burst?” He lunges in for my mouth, kisses me with abandon, and slides his finger inside me.
That’s it.
I lose control, even though my body doesn’t give it away to any curious voyeurs. Even as I’m frozen here in this corner, there are flames licking my pussy as tiny earthquakes clamp around his finger, my moans muffled by the steady dance beat as I turn my head to the wall so nobody can see my face.
“That’s it, Madison, that’s it. Give it to me.”
“What have you done,” I moan, gripping his arms as he kisses my neck.
“Nicholas! Hey, buddy, you seen my sister?”
We go rigid. Ever so slowly Nicholas removes his hand as he smiles over his shoulder. “Caden! The fuck are you doing here?” His manner is perfect, detached, casual, and he blocks my body while I discreetly adjust my pants. His hand slides into his pocket. “This is my cousin, who apparently can’t see that I was busy.”
Running his hand through his hair, Caden chuckles, “Sorry man, the question popped out as soon as I recognized you. I just left my shift at the hospital and I’m fuckin’ beat, but I’m searching for Lexi. Got a tip she was here with her mystery man, Brad. You seen her?”
“No, but I did ask about that guy a few months ago when I ran into her. Haven’t seen her since. You look worried.”
There’s not much family resemblance except swagger. Nicholas is exotic, his facial structure angular. Caden is more All-American with a square chin.
Hospital?
Yes, he looks like a doctor.
Nicholas looks more playboy.
Oh hell.
What have I gotten myself into?
Glancing around the strobe-lit gathering, Caden explains, “Max is editing his film and he had Natalie call me after Mom said she hasn’t heard from Lexi in over a week. My sister, I
