Sweet Sinful Nights Read online

  He heard a throat being cleared.

  The waiter arrived with their dishes.

  She detached from him, adjusted her top, and smirked just for him. As if they had a secret. Even though it was a very publicly known fact that the two people seated here at this restaurant on the terrace on a June night with the fountains behind them wanted each other badly.

  * * *

  After the waiter served his fritto misto and her tortellini, Brent broached a subject that had once been a source of friction between them, but then had brought them closer.

  “Is your mom still writing to you?” he asked gently, picking up his fork. He watched her, careful not to push too far.

  She closed her eyes briefly, her fingers clutching her wine glass. When she opened them, she was the girl he’d known in college, the one who’d relied on him for everything.

  She nodded. “Yes. Every few months. She still says she didn’t do it.”

  “She probably always will say that,” he said, softly, wanting so badly to erase all her sadness. He’d always wanted to, ever since she’d finally let him in. They’d nearly broken up once in college over this. She’d been so closed off at first about her family, so secretive, and it had driven him mad. He’d wanted to be let in, to talk to her, to help her through her troubles, but she hadn’t even told him what it was that tore her apart. He only knew someone kept sending her letters.

  That had been one of their worst fights ever. He’d been frustrated beyond words over the way she’d kept him out. She’d been terrified to let him know the full truth about her family. But before the two of them blasted apart into smithereens, she’d confided in him, telling him all the things that weren’t in the press, that weren’t known simply from growing up in Vegas when it happened. He’d known her as the girl whose mom had killed her dad, but he hadn’t been privy to the backstory, the details that didn’t make it into the local news.

  The full story had shocked him to the core.

  His family was so... normal. His parents were still married. They were both retired now and played golf together a few days a week in a swank suburb on the outskirts of the city. He tried to see them once or twice a month, and always visited on holidays. He even baked a pumpkin pie every year for the Nichols family Thanksgiving. There was no drama, no dysfunction, and certainly no murder for hire.

  Maybe that was why he’d been able to comfort her when they were younger. Maybe that was why they’d been drawn together on some subconscious level. He’d grown up unequivocally happy, and he had extra doses of it. He had a whole storage closet full of additional happiness, and he tried to bring that to her. Lean on me, he’d told her. He could handle it. He handled all her tears and sadness. He’d do it again if she needed him to. “And have you seen her recently?”

  “I went at Christmas with Ryan. She asked if anyone had found the people who did it. Same thing she always says, even though she knows Stefano is behind bars.” Then she lowered her voice to a feathery whisper, her tone confessional. “I still check his inmate number every few months. To make sure he’s still in prison. It’s silly, I know, since he’s in for life. But I just like to know he’s where he belongs.”

  Brent shook his head, reassuring her. “It’s not silly in the least to find some kind of comfort in knowing he’s locked up.”

  “It’s not like it makes me happy,” she said, sadness washing over her eyes. “It just makes me feel as much peace as I guess I can feel.”

  “You don’t have to be happy. You can just... be,” he said, and that was what he’d told her in college, too.

  She met his eyes, a sliver of a smile forming on her beautiful lips. “I’m happy right now,” she said.

  And hell if that didn’t add an extra gallon to all those stores he had.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  After the plates were cleared, Shannon declared the meal a feast. “I knew I asked the right man to get me into this delicious restaurant. It was amazing, and everything I hoped it would be,” she said, then launched into a new topic. “I watched a funny video before I met you for dinner.”

  He raised an eyebrow in question. “I thought you weren’t into Internet videos?”

  “I’m not. I only watch videos of my dance rehearsals, and I shoot most of those myself. But my friend Ally showed me a video she saw on Facebook. It’s this clip of a girl who grinds on her boyfriend in public while his hand is under her skirt, and they don’t even try to hide that he’s fingering her and getting her off.”

  “I like getting you off,” he said with a naughty glint in his brown eyes.

  “You cannot resist segueing back to dirty talk when I’m telling you a story.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, placing his palms together. “The story was about a guy making a girl come. Forgive me for thinking about making you come. It’s only my favorite thing in the entire world to do.”

  She shot him a tell me more look.

  “It’s a hobby I once practiced a few times a day,” he added. “One I’m very interested in taking up again.”

  A ribbon of warmth spread through her chest, both from the suggestion of one of her favorite activities, too, but also from the way he was so quick on his toes, so fast with a joke. The man had always made her laugh. He was handsome as sin and funny as hell, and that combo had been all she’d ever needed. He had filled all the sad places inside her. He’d burrowed into her with his laughter and his wit, replacing her darkness with his light. Tonight, he was firing on all cylinders—his caring, tender side in full force, along with his clever one, not to mention that handsome side. In his jeans and long-sleeved Henley stretched tight across his chest, he was a sight to behold.

  “Anyway, back to the video. So the funny part is they had no clue they’d been caught on camera, even though they were totally obvious. They thought they were being quiet and sneaky when he was trying to make her come.”

  “I could make you come quietly,” he said with an easy shrug of his shoulder. “I can make you come loudly, too. I can make you come in pretty much any way.”

  She scoffed. Not because it was untrue, but because he was so damn sure of himself. “Confident much?”

  “Yeah, I am. I have the track record to prove it. You’re pretty much the only class I aced in college.”

  She laughed, looking down at her lap. He was too much sometimes. “Straight As, Brent?”

  “Hell no. Higher. I earned A-pluses across the board in your pleasure.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re relentless.”

  He leaned forward across the table, flashing her that cocky grin she’d loved so much. “When it comes to delivering multiple orgasms for you, yes. Relentless is precisely what I am.”

  She held up her hands. “Fine, fine. You win. You win for being the King of Distraction again. Because I was trying to tell you that watching this video made me think to go looking for videos of you.”

  He straightened his spine and furrowed his brow. Excellent. She’d regained the thread of the conversation. “You looked for videos of me?”

  “I did. I did a little Googling of Brent Nichols.”

  For a second, he seemed unsure, nervous even. Then he returned to his cool, confident demeanor, leaning back in his chair. “Really? What else did you see?”

  She dipped her hand into her purse, and took out the item she’d purchased at the candy store. A lollipop. She unwrapped it, taking her time peeling off the plastic as he watched her. His eyes darkened as she brought it to her lips, gently kissing the sucker.

  His breath hissed. His eyes turned feral. This was what she wanted—him turned on and in the palm of her hand, and it had taken mere seconds. She flicked her tongue across the red candy, licking it once as he shifted in his chair. She pictured his cock standing at attention, straining against his jeans. She wondered if he still wore black boxer briefs like he’d worn in college. If he still looked hot in them as he did then, the outline of his dick so alluring when he’d take off his clothes for her.
Her mouth watered as she pictured him unzipping his jeans, pushing down his briefs, his cock springing free.

  Ready for her. Always ready for her

  “But I need to correct you,” she said.

  “About what?” His voice was husky.

  “I’m not opposed to licking sweets off you.”

  He sat up straight “You saw my bit?”

  She nodded, then licked the red lollipop, swirling her tongue across the candy. She watched him as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Giving him away. But then he wasn’t trying to hide a single thing right now. She leaned across the table, lowered her voice to a whisper, and asked, “If I put my hand on you right now how hard would your dick be?”

  “Rock fucking hard,” he said in a growl, the rough and sexy rumble of his admission sending a rush of heat between her legs.

  She returned the sucker to her mouth, moving it back and forth between her lips. As she licked and kissed the candy, giving him a hell of a show, he stared at her with hungry eyes. In them, she saw the reel of his desires. All his dirty thoughts, all his dirty dreams—everything he wanted from her.

  The waiter rushed by, dishes balanced on his arm.

  “Check please,” Brent called out, and the man nodded, then continued on his way.

  “Actually, allow me to clarify my feelings about sweets,” she said as she drew the lollipop all the way into her mouth, then let it pop out. “I’m not really a chocolate person. I’m more into the red, sugary candy. Like this sucker. I love how it tastes.” She paused, her eyes on him, then asked, “Do you wonder what my mouth tastes like right now?”

  “Spectacular. I bet it tastes spectacular,” he answered, his voice strained, and full of heat. “Kiss me now,” he said, giving her a clear order. He leaned across the table and claimed her mouth, marked his territory with a passionate, crushing kiss that made her dizzy.

  When he broke the kiss, the haze cleared and she returned to starring in her show. She kicked back in the chair, striking a casual, seductive pose as she sucked the candy deeply, reminding him of her talents.

  He gripped the edge of the table. He inhaled through his nostrils. He looked as if he wanted to rip the table in two.

  “You see, I’d be much more inclined to lick something like this off you.”

  “A lollipop?”

  “Candy, lollipop, anything sweet. By the way, how’s it going down there? A little tight in the jeans?”

  “Unbelievably tight, but I don’t mind. Because my hard-on is within a few feet of my favorite place in the entire universe.

  “My mouth?”

  “Anywhere on you,” he corrected. “Your mouth. Your pussy. Your beautiful fucking ass,” he said, reminding Shannon that he’d explored her thoroughly. He was the only man she’d let take her any way he wanted, because she’d loved everything with him. She had given him all of her body, and he’d worshipped every inch of her.

  “Mmm,” she moaned, licking her tongue across the sugary surface. She rolled her eyes in pleasure, then held the candy in the air. “I’m thinking of how much I miss the taste of you coming in my mouth.”

  “I can gladly reacquaint you with that taste.”

  “I like the way you feel hitting the back of my throat,” she said, dirty talking him as she swirled her tongue against the sucker, revving herself up as much as him, she was sure.

  The waiter brought the check, and in a flash, Brent reached into his wallet, threw some bills on the table and gripped her elbow, leading her out of the restaurant. His fast pace and his firm hold told her that he wanted more, more than she was willing to give right now. She placed her hands on his chest, dropping the games for a moment. “I know what you’re thinking, but we can’t get a room. I’m not ready.”

  A sliver of disappointment crossed his eyes, but was then replaced by that confident look she knew well. “Did I say I wanted a room?” he said, tossing the question at her like a dare. He shook his head, supplying the answer. “Nope. I’m just taking you to the fountains to watch their show. I thought that would be a nice end to this date.”

  “Oh,” she said, frowning. She thought he’d take her to a bathroom, or find some quiet little nook where they could get frisky. But she couldn’t argue with the view either, once they’d stepped outside and walked across the palazzo to the fountains at the Bellagio. “I love the fountains,” she said softly.

  “I know you do,” he said, his voice matching hers.

  The warm June air caressed the bare skin of her shoulders. She leaned against the stone railing that edged the gorgeous water display. He stood next to her, wrapped an arm around her, and tugged her close. His erection pressed against her thigh. “I did all that to you,” she said in a naughty voice. “Just from talking about blowing you.”

  “You know I love your blow jobs.”

  “I wish I could give you one right now,” she whispered, as she pushed her rear against his hard-on. He groaned.

  “Yeah, it’s hard to give a blow job in public without being like that couple in the video. But this is doable,” he said, then he shifted her so her back was aligned with his chest. He crowded her in, standing behind her. The stone wall blocked any view of her from the front, and he was shielding her back.

  “Brent.”

  He pushed against her once more, the outline of his erection nudging her back. The feel of his hard length thrilled her, even as he got closer than she was used to in public. A low moan escaped her lips, and instantly his mouth was on her ear. “You be quiet now,” he whispered harshly. He slipped a hand under the soft material of her top, pressing gently against her belly. “If you’re loud, someone might record you, and you’d hate that.”

  Before she could protest, he slid his hand from her belly to inside the front of her skirt.

  She nearly gasped out loud before clamping her lips shut and swallowing the murmur of pleasure. His fingers danced across the outline of her underwear. “I would hate it,” she whispered, giving in to him, to his touch. He caged her in, his big, strong body shielding her. Her belly was flush against the hard stone railing, and as the gorgeous fountains began their nighttime ballet, he dragged his fingers across the lacy fabric of her panties.

  She ached for him. He neared her throbbing clit, and the desperation inside her intensified. All that sucking, licking, and teasing she’d done with the candy had turned her on fiercely. Tempting him had heated her up, and she was operating at high levels of lust already.

  He kissed her earlobe softly. “Don’t make a sound. Don’t say a word. Don’t let anyone know but me.”

  She nodded her agreement. He lined his body firmly against her. God, how she wanted to feel him slide into her. To fill her completely. She was ready for him, so slick and liquid.

  His hand made its way inside the waistband of her panties, then lower and lower still, and... oh dear God... his fingers were on a fast track for her hot, wet center. When he glided them across her, she nearly screamed.

  “Was it all that sucking that got you this hot?” he whispered as he stroked.

  “The sucking and the talking and now the touching,” she answered quietly as she shuddered in his arms.

  He stopped his movements. “Hold still, babe.”

  “I will.”

  “Promise me you can stay still or I’ll have to stop.”

  The prospect of him stopping was horrible. She was dying for his touch, for him to get her off as only he could. “Promise.”

  “Good. Because all this wetness is fucking perfect for my fingers to slide through,” he said in her ear, so low only she could hear as he stroked her. “All this fucking beautiful wetness. I want to feel you grabbing my dick with this sweet wet pussy.”

  “Me, too,” she whispered, and started to rock her hips into his hand.

  He tsked her in her ear. “Don’t do that. You don’t want to be the girl on the video.”

  “I don’t,” she said softly, her voice trance-like, her body overcome with silver spa
rks of desire as he rubbed his fingers across her heat. She drew a breath, as if that would give her the ability to stay still. She stood rigid and tense against the stone, even though she wanted to let go, to give in. She held in all the anticipation as he stroked faster, more expertly.

  She bit her lip, driving her teeth sharply into her own flesh to hold back all the sounds eager to fly from her lips. She wanted to close her eyes, to rub against him, to moan and groan and sing out his name. But she refrained because she wanted one thing even more.

  To come.

  * * *

  She was hotter than she’d ever been. Slippery wetness coated his fingers. Her slick heat was all over him. Her panties were useless. He was dying to rip them off her, hoist her up on this railing, spread her wide and properly worship her perfect pussy. But this was a high, too—her, ramrod straight, hiding her pleasure, fighting back her screams. It was such a thrill. Her need to come was intoxicating. Her ability to stay quiet was so impressive, when he knew how much she wanted to move. He slid his fingers across those delicious pussy lips, wet and warm and inviting. She trembled against him as he stroked up and down, then focused on her swollen clit, so needy, so hungry for his touch. He rubbed his finger against her, and he could feel the way tension tightened in her body as she neared the edge.

  “Don’t move, Shan,” he commanded. “I know you want to. I know you want to ride my hand so badly right now, don’t you?”

  She nodded the back of her head against his chest.

  “You want to fuck my hand like the wild woman you are.”

  Another nod.

  “And it’ll be even harder for you to hold back when I slide my fingers into you,” he said. Her shoulders rose up in a sharp line of tension. Her beautiful body was strung tight, stretched to the limits of her own desire, her own sexuality. He loved knowing how to play her, how to touch her, how to send her into a land of bliss.