CHAPTER 55
And when he turned back to face her, she realized he’d never looked at her with such raw hunger...or such deep, tormented emotion.
“I’m all yours, Nathalie.”
All hers.
At least for tonight.
Nathalie rose slowly, shrugging the shoulders of her dress up and letting it fall back into place. For
once, she was going to keep her dress intact while Darius was the one exposed.
“Shoes first,” she directed.
He quickly toed them off and kicked them away.
She stepped close, talking as she undid his jacket. “I love your tux.” She loved him in the tux.
Walking around him, she slipped her fingers inside the front lapels and pulled the jacket down his
arms. She folded it, laying it across a chair in the corner. Even from this angle, he was strong,
muscled. She trailed a hand across his back as she circled him once more. “I’ve never tied a bow
tie.”
“All you need to know is how to untie it.”
She slipped the knot, smiling as she noted, “No cummerbund.”
“I thought that would make it easier when you undressed me.”
She tsked. “You didn’t know I was going to undress you.”
“Yes, I did.” His eyes were hot.
Of course he did. Because she’d never been able to resist him, had she? But there was no time—and
no need—to beat herself up about that now. Not when he was still waiting for her to undress him.
And she was dying to see every last gorgeous, naked inch of him.
She cocked her head. “Hmm. Cufflinks first? Or shirt buttons?” She put a finger to her lips. He’d
kissed her hard and deep, but the lipstick was long-lasting and wouldn’t smudge. She liked the idea
of her lipstick against his—
“Shirt buttons,” he decided for her.
“Definitely.” She wanted to feel his skin, the sooner the better.
She pulled the shirt from his waistband and slowly unbuttoned it, her fingers caressing his flesh.
The dusting of hair on his chest was soft, silky. She trailed down, and when she looked up, he was
anything but unaffected. A pulse beat at his throat, and his gaze seared her. She loved the power his
eyes gave her, how potent he made her feel. She pushed his shirt aside and slicked her tongue over
him, eliciting another telltale quiver.
“You like?”
“You make me crazy, I like it so much.” Need turned his voice harsh.
She wanted to go straight for his belt, to see what she could only feel right now. To touch. And taste.
But this was a strip tease, for both their pleasure.
Running one hand down his arm, she flicked the cufflink at his wrist and pulled it free. She did the
same with the other, loving the soft plop as they hit the carpet. More touching, teasing, her hands on
his skin as she walked her fingers up, to the top of the shirt, over his shoulders beneath the cotton,
then down his strong arms. She let the shirt billow to his feet.
“You’re beautiful.” She stepped back to absorb him and couldn’t resist touching. Muscled shoulders
down to pectorals and tapering into washboard abs. “And you’ve got a tattoo.”
His biceps hardened as she traced the ink’s contours. A muscle car. And over it, the stylized phrase,
Black Warriors.
“Very sexy. Like Sons of Anarchy or something.”
He clenched his teeth and hissed in a breath. Then he said, “Or something.”
“Was it a club you belonged to?”
Two long beats of silence. “Yeah.”
“You’re a bad boy.” One who made her weak in the knees every single time he kissed her. “And you know how women feel about bad boys,” she teased.
“Tell me how you feel, Nathalie.”
Couldn’t he tell already? Didn’t he know? “It makes me hot. You make me hot.”
The air soaked up his tension, raising the hair on her arms like static electricity. Until he blinked it
away...and moved her fingers to his belt.
* * *
Nathalie unbuckled and unzipped while he watched. Her hands were trembling slightly, but she
didn’t stop, just tucked her lower lip between her teeth as she concentrated on taking off the rest of
his clothes. And when her lips curved up in a little smile and she gracefully dropped to her
knees...oh hell, he nearly lost it right then and there. Nearly tore her dress from her and took her the
way he’d been wanting to take her all night long.
“You’re gorgeous.” There was no artifice in her voice, just reverent awe.
He kicked aside the pile of his clothing. “You’ve seen me before.”
Still down on her knees, she tipped her head back, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders.
Darius heart thumped hard knowing she was his for this night. He’d waited so damn long and now
his hands shook, just as hers had when she was undressing him. He fisted them in her hair to hide it.
“Only parts of you.” Her gaze was soft, her lips sweet. “The parts you’ve let me see. Tonight is the
first time I’m seeing all of you.”
Jesus, she had no idea what she was saying, did she? No idea that she’d just seen more of him than
any other woman had. She hadn’t balked at his tattoo. She’d thought it was sexy. But it would lose
all its sexiness if she knew what it really meant.
She leaned in to swipe her tongue along his length and his thoughts scattered as everything inside
him clenched, coiled, made ready to pounce. She smiled as though she knew exactly what she did to
him.
“You still have all your clothes on,” he somehow managed to say.
He wanted her naked. On the bed. Spread out. He’d never wanted anyone this intensely, with every
cell primed, each sense attuned. Only Nathalie. Her scent was sweet, with the added spice of
arousal. Her fingers were silk caressing his skin. Her kiss was a drug he couldn’t get enough of.
“We’re even, then,” she replied, “since I’m always the one who’s naked.”
Sally had said he needed to let Harper know how he felt. There were so many things—need, desire,
amazement, love. But right now all he could get his brain to manage was, “I need you, Nathalie.”
He pulled her to her feet and unzipped the cocktail dress. Pressing kisses to her spine as the material
slid down and pooled at her feet, he licked the sensitive hollow at the base. The last to go was her
bra. Standing behind her, he cupped her breasts in his hands. “I need you so damned much.” Her
head back against his shoulder, she arched into his palms, silently begging.
Until tonight, he’d tried to play it cool with her, teased her, made her climax in ways he was sure
she never had before. But he’d never completely let go. Not even the night in his ’57 Chevy. Even
then, he’d been aware of every action he took, calculating whether it gave her what she craved.
Letting go was risky.
But if he didn’t let go—and if he didn’t let her in—then all he could ever be to her was some hot
sex on the hood of his car or in the front seat of his Chevy. But he wanted so much more with
Nathalie. Needed more with every cell in his body, with every heartbeat, every breath.
He reached around her and dragged the coverlet down the bed, tugging the blanket and sheet to the
bottom. He picked her up and was so far out on the edge of reason that he all but tossed her onto the
bed.
He went to her nipples first, licking, sucking, until she arched against him. “The way you taste.” He
swiped his tongue across a peak. “The sounds you make. The way your body begs for more. All of
you makes me crazy, Nathalie.”
She threaded her hands through his hair. “You make me crazy, too.”
He crawled up her body, then rolled until she was on top. Spreading her legs over him, he pulled her
hips down, riding her center without actually entering her. She was slick and hot. She curled her
body around him, her hips moving up into his, quaking, gasping, her heart beating so hard he could
feel it.
He’d never felt so wild with a woman as when he hauled her up, clamped his hands on her hips, and
pulled her to his mouth. Jesus, she was sweet. Wet. He held her to him, drinking her in. He circled,
spiraling down slowly until he touched the center of her pleasure.
Above him, she grabbed the headboard, her hips undulating, her body directing him, telling him
how to move, where to kiss. He kneaded her hips in his hands, increasing the friction, the pleasure.
Her sounds filled the room, gasps, sighs, little cries. He was voracious, consuming her as she
shuddered, trembled.
And came completely apart for him.
But it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t let her go. Not yet. He had only enough thought left to grab a
condom from the drawer before he came down between her legs. “Look at me.”
She opened her eyes, fuzzy with sated pleasure. “I don’t know who’s crazier anymore.”
“We’re crazy together.” Then he thrust home.
Closing his eyes, he held still, absorbed the feel of her around him. “So good,” he whispered. “So
perfect.”
There was sex. And then there was this. One was merely physical. This was body and soul.
He pulled her leg to his waist and moved, slowly at first. She shuddered, circled his shoulders with
her arms, and as she brought her other leg up, she looked into his eyes and whispered, “It’s too
good.”
“It could never be too good.”
He held her hips, falling into her, retreating, then moving in deep again. Every muscle bunched, his
blood pounded. And he could feel her around him, taking him, holding him tight. He could stay
here forever.
Then she moaned. Her breath hitched. And he knew she was climbing again. He had to go with her
this time, needed to jump off right along with her. Pumping faster, harder, going deeper, he steeped
himself in her, “Nathalie. God. Yes. So good,” falling from his lips.
Her heart thudded hard with his. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and smelled their salty-
sweet scent, tasted her on his tongue. The heat of her skin became his heat. Her body was
indistinguishable from his. And when she convulsed around him, she dragged him over the edge
with her.
He heard her name on his lips. He heard her cry out his.
Then his voice saying, “I love you.”
* * *
I love you.
Nathalie’s body, her head—but especially her heart—were all spinning as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. And what he’d just said.
“Nathalie?” He eased to his side, taking some of his weight from her, even as his arm tightened
around her. “I love you.”
He’d put his hand on her cheek and turned her face to his as if he’d known she wouldn’t quite be
able to process those three little words the first time he said them. And it was so tempting to say
them back, her own I love you, too, right there on the tip of her tongue.
But the words wouldn’t come, almost as if they were locked up tight inside her, and she couldn’t
find the key.
She could tell him about her fears—that he’d tire of her and Jeremy, that surely he couldn’t want to
take both of them on when all the other men she’d come across had been horrified at the thought.
But she already knew what he’d say—I’m not like them. And he wasn’t, because she knew how
kind and generous he was.
Unfortunately, that fact didn’t change the others—his money, his lifestyle, or his ability to take
whatever he wanted.
Nathalie knew her own self-worth, and yet, with the penthouse apartment, the limo, and the
glittering jewels of all the people fawning over Darius tonight... honestly, she couldn’t help but feel
out of her depth. It had been like being tossed straight into the deep end when she was only just
learning to swim.
More than anything, she wanted to love with her full heart and soul. All the way, nothing held back.
Wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. And she knew he’d talk her out of every
single doubt.
But how could she tell him she loved him unless she was able to talk herself out of those doubts?
When she looked back up at him, he was frowning. Her throat felt tight, her chest ached, and she
wished she could tell him what he wanted to hear. Wished she was ready, that she was already there.
“Darius—”
Before she could try to figure out what else to say, he surprised her yet again by saying, “You’re
smart not to say it back to me, Nathalie.”
Wait...he didn’t want her to say she loved him? Why would she be smart to hold a part of herself
back from him?
But before she could voice any of those questions, he said, “You should know I’m not a nice guy.
That’s why I haven’t told you how I felt about you. Because I’m not good enough for you. And yet I
can’t make myself stay away even though I should.”
Not good enough for her? Darius Spencer thought he was the one who wasn’t good enough?
All of this made her head whirl. It was happening so fast and was all so unexpected. Not just how
sweet he’d been from the first day she and Jeremy had met him, but also how much he’d done for
them since. And how much she wanted to let herself love him, all the way, with nothing held back.
This was just supposed to be a thrill ride. But somehow, it had turned into so much more. And now
that everything she’d been telling herself was true had spun on its ear, she didn’t know what to
think. Or how to feel.
She knew only one thing. “No one has ever been nicer to me,” she told him. “Or to Zion.”
“That’s now. But back then—” He broke off and his chest rose with a deep breath as if he was
trying to force himself to do something painful. “Remember when I said some kids were bullying
Perseus the day I met him?”
She could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. “Yes. And you rescued him.”
“Ares, Hector, and Argus rescued him, Nathalie.” He looked her straight in the eye. “I was one of
those bullies.”
Nathalie tipped her head back to look at him. The strong lines of his face were tense, the bedside
lamp casting dark shadows across one half.
“You were bullying him?” She shook her head, unable to put the amazing man she’d fallen for in
that picture, even as a boy. “I can’t believe that.”
His jaw flexed. “Believe it.”
“But I’ve seen you with Perseus son, Zeus. I’ve seen the way that little boy looks at you, and the
way Perseus trusts you. How could he trust you with his son if you did that?” No father would have
let a son of his near the man who’d been his bully when he was a child.
He filled his lungs with another deep breath. “Because, in the end, I changed.” He exhaled sharply.
“I changed my mind.”
“I don’t understand.” And she truly didn’t—couldn’t understand anything he was saying to her
when it was the exact opposite of what she’d come to know about him.
“I belonged to a gang. In my neighborhood, you were either a bully or you got bullied,” he said in
rapid-fire bursts. “You had to act like them to be accepted. So I did.”
His arm still bound her to him as if he was afraid she’d get away. Reaching up, she forced his palm
against her cheek, holding him, too, as she tried to piece it all together.
