Authors: Sienna Mynx
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Multicultural, #Multicultural & Interracial
Nolen followed her lead. He kicked off his eight-hundred dollar loafers and placed his feet in the skates, questioning his sanity.
“Let me help you,” she said, kneeling down in front of him. She laced them tighter. People in jeans and sweaters made their way to the rink. He looked out of place in his black suit and long dark trench, so she tried to make him comfortable. Rising, she extended her hands to him. “Let me show you how it’s done.” He accepted her hands; he stood up straight, weaving slightly. She watched his feet. “Now, just walk to me. Don’t think about it.”
Nolen took one shaky step, then another. “Doesn’t helping me hurt your chances of winning our bet?” She was barely able to keep the laughter from her voice. “Sorry, but you don’t stand a chance in Hades on this one, sugar.”
He finally stood on his own, without her helping him balance.
“Let’s go!” she said. Sydney headed for the rink with Nolen still looking after her.
People shouldered past him, and he almost slipped once he lost sight of her. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said and groaned.
Careful to take baby steps, he walked carefully to the edge of the rink. He stepped onto the ice and then began to slide, his feet shuffling under him as other skaters whisked by, laughing. Nolen swore that the temperature was ten degrees colder on the ice. It was now that he wished he’d tried out for his high school hockey team.
In a silent glide, she skated up behind him, touching his back, then circled to face him. “How you doing there, Mr. Big?” she asked. He looked up at her, his jaw clenched tightly. The excitement of her challenge added shine to her eyes and polish to her cheeks.
“You win,” he grunted.
“You quitting on me already?” She pouted.
“This isn’t for me.”
Sydney skated close to him. “Put your hands on my waist.”
“What?”
“I won’t bite,” she said, grinning.
He slipped his hands around her waist, and she placed her hands on his shoulders. “Now, easy steps,” she said as she skated slowly backward. With her assistance he could actually glide. Finally confident enough to look up from his feet, he grew bolder.
“Well, look at you, Mr. Big Time now, ice-skating in your three-thousand-dollar suit.”
“Five-thousand,” he corrected her.
She laughed and let go of him, skating away backward, leaving him stranded in the middle of the rink.
Skaters sped past him, and he breathed slowly, he struggled with mimicking what she’d shown him.
“You have three more minutes, Mr. Adams,” she teased, skating around him.
Nolen clenched his black-gloved hands and felt himself swaying.
“You’ve got two more minutes, Mr. Casanova!”
He laughed, keeping his balance by swinging his arms counterclockwise.
Sydney clapped and kept skating. “Bravo! One more minute, and you’re home free!” He stood still.
Skating back to him, she frowned. “That’s cheating!”
“Nope. You said stay on my feet.” Nolen drew up his sleeve, he checked his watch. “And it looks like I won the bet.”
She stopped in front of him, folding her arms. “So you did. But since you cheated, I think it’s only fair that you find your way back to the other side of the rink alone.” She turned and skated away.
“Sydney!” he called out in panic. He watched as she leapt, then landed on one leg. She began to spin with her arms up like a ballerina. Beautifully she emerged out of the spin, and skated off to the other side of the rink.
“Damn it!” He grunted. Nolen shuffled his feet. He tried to get to the other side of the rink, then fell on his rump. Some kids skated by, caught in a fit of laughter. They pointed at him. “Fuck this!” he mumbled, but failed to rise again. After three unsuccessful attempts, he dusted the frost off his gloves, anger boiled in his chest.
“Need help?” Sydney asked, smiling down at him.
“No!” he barked.
She shook her head. “So your ego can’t handle a little fall on the ice?”
“Just leave me!” he barked.
She knelt beside him. “You’re going to have to stop taking yourself so seriously.”
“You brought me here to make an ass out of me. To take me out of my element, admit it!” His contemptuous tone backfired by sparking her anger. He looked up to see her glaring at him.
“And you took me to the private dining room at the Mandarin, tried to dress me in an expensive rag, and hand-delivered me by a chauffeur, I might add, to remove me from my element. Doesn’t feel good, does it?” Nolen’s anger melted under the comparison. “I guess not.” He sighed.
“Come on, cry baby,” she said, she reached down to pull him up.
She helped him to the bench where they had left their shoes. After they returned the skates, the mood lightened. “So you won the bet, Nolen. Where do you want to go?” Sydney asked.
“What happened to Mr. Adams or Mr. CEO?”
When her eyes cast downward, and her hands rubbed her side, it was evident she was equally nervous. It was another trait he found endearing. Then she looked up, her lips pressed together in a serious line. “No more games, ok? Hi, I’m Sydney,” she said. Her hand extended to him for forgiveness.
Nolen looked down at the offer to begin again with a raised brow. He lifted his gaze back to her face. He could see her sincerity in the deep hazel of her irises under sweeping lashes. He accepted her hand and shook it.
“Hi, Sydney. It’s good to meet you. I’m Nolen.”
“So, Nolen, I’ll ask you again, what’s next?”
He dropped her hand and took the other. Walking over to a wheeled cart emitting the smell of roasted chestnuts, he pointed at the sign.
“Nuts 4 Nuts!” she exclaimed.
“Yep. A walk in Central Park with you at my side and a bag of Nuts 4 Nuts. That’s what I’d like to do next.”
She seemed surprised. “You do know that these things smell better than they taste?” Nolen shrugged. “I’ve got a feeling that with you, they’d taste like prime rib.”
“Very smooth,” she said, with a light chuckle.
“Thank you.”
After he paid the nut man, they strolled through the park. Neither spoke as they passed other couples and a few joggers.
“So, have you ever been married?” she asked, popping a nut into her mouth.
Nolen shook his head. “No.”
“Me neither.”
“You’ve got plenty of time.”
“So have you. But of course you enjoy bachelorhood too much.”
“I’ve been in love, Sydney.”
“I know you have. She probably hurt you pretty badly, huh?”
Nolen stopped. “What gave you that idea?”
“You don’t strike me as a man who steps into the fire twice.”
“Very intuitive.”
Nolen was once again impressed. Sydney’s youth and inexperience, which he initially thought of as weaknesses, proved to be her greatest strengths.
Her head turned up to the sky and her thin brows drew together when she spoke to him. “You think I’m intuitive?” she asked.
“I do.”
“Not really. It’s a lot easier to see someone else’s pain than acknowledge your own. I left home just under a year ago. My parents, well my dad and I are estranged. Since then I’ve kept my friends close, but pushed back at pretty much everything else. Dancing is the one dream I won't give up. Despite the fact––” Curious, he touched her arm. “Despite what?”
She shook her head. “It’s hard to have faith in people, when everyone is so shady I guess. I don’t trust many easy. That’s why I accepted this date.”
“Because you don’t trust the world?”
“Because I want to trust you.” She smiled and looked back at him. The wind caught her hair and blew it toward her face. “You’re my boss. I want to make sure you understand how important this ballet is to me.
Things are changing. Change is good. I’m ready for it now. I’m not going to be that girl that hides, not anymore.”
Before he could stop himself, he touched her just under her neck. Her immediate response was to step back. Her eyes stretched at the involuntary reflex reaction. Nolen smiled and reached out again. This time she allowed his touch.
“It’s been a long time since I met someone like you, Sydney,” he mumbled, more to himself than her.
“There are plenty of people like me, Nolen. I guess. You haven’t said much about yourself. You’re um, not that old. I think you have a story too? Am I right?”
Pulling her close, he slipped his arm around her midriff. Her head fell back. She allowed him the liberty to once again capture her eyes. Neither spoke, but something undeniable passed between them. He brought his face down and kissed her. To his delight, she put her arms around his neck and accepted his kiss.
He could taste the buttery and salty flavors on her tongue, increasing his desire as his hands slid down her hips. He drew her closer, and held her against his chest while his demanding lips caressed hers. The kiss was urgent and exploratory, forcing her to her toes to keep up. Overwhelmed by his need for more, he pushed away while her mouth was still open. As she opened her eyes, he licked his lips and looked down at her. She blushed, dropping her arms.
“I should take you home,” he whispered, and his eyes traveled from her face lower. “Yes, it’s time I take you home.”
It all happened fast. She found the simple act of breathing to be a struggle. “I changed my mind. I think I should go home,” Sydney swallowed her fear and tried to remain calm.
He blocked her with his arm as he leaned in closer. “You asked me to bring you here. You said you wanted to see my place?”
Sydney wished she’d been smarter. The night had gone to her head, and she had become too comfortable with him. Now with his breath on her face and the smell of his cologne weakening her, she felt trapped. Nolen moved his face closer to hers, pushing lightly against her. The inside of his bedroom held little light, but the desire for her was on his face, cast in shadows, and in his touch. A seductive appeal she couldn’t deny.
“I know, but the wine has me a little fuzzy,” she said. Her eyes moved from his penetrating stare to his lips, parted slightly. Did he plan to kiss her again? What should she do if he did? Oh, God, would he just do it already and get it over with?
“Yeah, wine can do that to you,” he said, flicking his tongue at her bottom lip, then pulling it into his mouth.
Sydney closed her eyes and reached for him. The final act of submission she knew he’d been waiting for.
Nolen pressed against her, he pinned her to the wall as his tongue chased hers. The kiss grew in its intensity and his erection made her move her hips involuntarily. Her desire controlled her actions while her brain checked out.
She moaned under the kiss, feeling his hand as it pulled her shirt out of her pants. Sydney enjoyed his cool touch against her skin once it moved over her belly, and upward to her left breast, squeezing then pinching her nipple as he forced her into a throaty kiss that made it hard to breathe. The throb and ache between her legs wouldn’t let her resist.
She turned her head away from the kiss, and he immediately began to nibble her neck. “What are you doing?” She gasped as he pressed his erection against her thigh.
“What I’ve wanted to do since I first laid eyes on you,” he said, undoing her belt buckle. She felt the zipper slip down and opened her eyes.
“No, we shouldn’t,” she said her voice weak. He pulled her pants down to her hips. She pressed against him, unable to resist.
He mumbled something incoherent, then dipped his tongue inside her ear. Her nipples remained painfully erect, pushing against the lace fabric of her bra. Sydney began to moan again as Nolen’s hand disappeared into her panties, making her shudder with anticipation. She parted her legs at his unspoken command, arching her back as he breathed kisses into her neck. Raising her left leg and wrapped it around him, she allowed his hand to travel farther. The tips of his fingers massaged her honey spot.
Sydney cried out loudly when she felt his hand plunge all the way into her panties and heard the delicate fabric tear before he eased two fingers inside her. “Oh, yes!” she breathed. He silenced her cries with a feverish, demanding kiss. He was much more powerful than she, and as he pinned her to the wall, making love to her with his hand, she was overwhelmed by his passion.
She opened her eyes when his kisses stopped and he removed his hand. She felt a wave of relief, thinking that he would now exercise the restraint that she couldn’t. But it was short-lived as she felt him tugging on her jeans and panties, forcing them down further. He knelt and first removed off her hiking boots, then her pants.
Sydney looked down at him, unable to speak. When he placed her left leg over his shoulder, and his eyes lifted to hers, her breath caught.
“You’re mine,” he said before burying his face between her legs.
Jumping up in the dark, sweating, Sydney’s eyes stretched wide with shock. Gasping, desperate for air, she struggled to calm her racing heart. Her matted hair clung to her sweating face. She felt as if she’d run a marathon. Then the dream returned, vivid and full of the fiery passion she craved. Her breathing slowed and she forced away the wet strands of her hair. “What the hell was that?” she mumbled, snatching back the sheet and swinging her legs off the bed.
The digital clock read shortly after five in the morning. Stumbling to the bathroom, she turned on the water in the sink and reached for a towel to wipe the sweat from her face. She could still feel a tingling in her center from the phantom orgasm.
I’m losing my mind, she thought.
Chapter 7
Game. Set. Match.
Sydney turned over her sweat soaked pillow, plopped her head back onto it, and reached for the pillow next to her to position it under the covers between her legs. She just wanted the throb to go away. Their date had been sweet, and in the end, when he’d brought her home, he told her that she’d shown him New York in a way that he’d rarely seen. He thanked her and kissed her hand. She had hoped that he’d try for another kiss, but clearly he was trying to give her something different, an intimacy that reached her in her dream.
Under the weight of a deep sigh, she thought about the show and the grueling rehearsals Madame Gustav warned would follow. It was time to focus on what was important. It would be a big mistake to get involved with the man who owned the production.