The Circle Eight: Nicholas (15 page)

Winnie found a rhythm and he matched it, pushing up as she pushed down. She cupped his balls, fondling the already tight sacs. He cursed again and his thighs closed in around her ears. She nipped at him until he relaxed his legs.

“Jesus, Winnie, I can’t…hell, you need to stop or I’m done for.”

She licked her way up his length until she let him loose with a pop. He looked down at her, his eyes almost black from widened pupils.

As he watched her, she lifted her dress, her pussy wet with need. Thank goodness her undergarments allowed her to simply spread her legs and impale herself on his cock. She stopped and simply held him deep inside. Winnie had never understood what complete meant until now.

Joined with him in the most intimate way, she
was
complete. It was as perfect a moment as it could be.

Now it was her turn to
grasp the bannisters while he took hold of her hips, guiding her as she rode him. The sound of a ticking clock downstairs was the only other noise beside their harsh breathing and the slick slide between their bodies.

He pressed his face against her breasts, nibbling at her through the cotton of her dress. She clenched at the moment he bit her taut nipple.

“Jesus, do that again.” He attacked the other nipple and her muscles contracted harder.

She fumbled for the buttons and released the front of her dress. The next thing she heard was the rendin
g of her chemise, now lying in tatters. Her exposed breasts pouted with eagerness. He growled in triumph and sucked one deep into his mouth.

Her pleasure skyrocketed with his tongue and teeth performing their magic. Her speed decrease
d, selfishness over his attention to her breasts making her forget she was in charge of their joining. Instead she used her interior muscles to bring them both forward.

He groaned and switched breasts. The night air hit her wet, turgid nipple and she cried out when his mouth closed in on
the other.

“I’m close, Nicky. So close.” Her small movements were harder, faster until a wave of pure ecstasy washed over her, pulling her this way and that until she neglected to breathe for the intensity of it all.

He let her nipple loose and pushed her hips up and down. Ripples moved through her and she picked up the speed at which he slid into her pussy. He pulled her down hard until her thighs smacked into his. Her own orgasm prolonged with each pass.

His fingers dug into her hips and he uttered her name on a harsh whisper. She tightened to the point of near pain as he spent himself deep inside her. Stars danced behind her eyes and all coherent thought fled.

She laid her head on his shoulder and tried to catch her breath. Her entire body shook with the power of what they had just experienced. Was love the reason the pleasure had been so great? She could only hope her feelings were returned. Now was an ideal time to confess her deepest secret regarding Nicholas, but her mouth refused to form the words.

“Holy shit.”

She smiled and her head lolled to the right. “Yes.”

“Nicky? Did you really call me Nicky?” He sounded amused, a different emotion for the usually grumpy man.

“Did I?” She knew very well what she’d said. “Does it bother you?”

He was quiet for a few moments. “No. I haven’t heard anyone call me that in
years years.”

What remained unspoken was who had called him that.

“She sounds as though she was a wonderful mother.”

“She was. The very best. She knew I was the middle child and she always made sure I had things the others didn’t.” His hands kneaded her back and she purred.

“Mmm, that feels good.” She played with the buttons on his open shirt. “What did you have the others didn’t?”

“She was fair to all of us. Everyone took turns doing chores, getting served first, and picking what book she read to us first.” His kneading slowed. “
But she made sure that I got a bit more dessert, or read a new book first. Sometimes she would take me alone to town and everyone else stayed home.”

Winnie pictured the wonderful life he’d had with his parents. “I wish I had known her.”

“Me too.” His voice had dropped to a whisper.

She hugged him before she sat up and met his gaze. “Would you care to find out how comfortable my feather mattress is, Nicky?”

His smile, when it came, took her breath away. If only he did that more often than frowning. Nicholas Graham was devastatingly handsome.

“I can’t think of a single thing I want more.”

Winnie could, but for now, this was enough. Perhaps one day he would want to be in her bed permanently. Their bed. Together.

The sun rose early the next day, its rays pricking at Nick’s eyes until he opened them. For a moment, he forgot where he was, only that he was warm, comfortable and a deliciously feminine form had snuggled up beside him.

Winnie
.

She had been magnificent last night, showing him things he hadn’t known women and men could do in a bed, much less on the stairs. He was spent in more ways than one. It was just past dawn, and normally he would be up and doing chores. Today he didn’t want to move. Lying with her was the closest he’d come to peace in a very long time.

He’d spoken of his mother to her. It had been years since he’d allowed himself to even think about his mother, Meredith. Her brutal death and the sight of her lifeless body had haunted his dreams, awake or asleep. Last night he’d remembered her as she’d been all his life, not at the end of hers.

Although he’d been fourteen when she died, he hadn’t been ready to lose her. It had been too abrupt, too shocking, too devastating. It had changed him from a happy teenager to a bitter old man in moments. Now he was older, more bitter and more unhappy. Only Winnie had pulled him from his morose existence to find a smidge of light.

If he lost her now, there would be no hope for Nick at all. He would not recover from it. His heart was truly tangled up with hers and there was no way to change it, not that he wanted to. Waking up beside her gave him a feeling he had forgotten—contentment. He wanted to hang onto that feeling for as long as he could.

She shifted and made a sleepy sound. He turned so he could pull her closer and she responded by tucking her head beneath his chin. The steady thump of her heart against his side was comforting.

“You’re awake.” Her voice was tinged with sleep.

“Not on purpose.”

She chuckled, her breath warm against his skin. “I suppose we should get up.”

“Or we could stay here a bit longer.” He was never one to lie in bed. Ever. She had changed him in more ways than one.

His stomach yowled as if on cue.

“There’s no food.”

“Damn.” He could survive a bit longer before he had to eat.

“And I need to bathe before we leave. I’m a bit sore.”

Guilt gnawed at him. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She sat up as though he had pinched her. Her glorious blonde hair had puffed out into a halo around her head and she sported a few sleep wrinkles on her cheek. She was also gloriously naked, her pink nipples staring him, quite literally, in the face.

“Hurt me? That was as far from hurting as you can possibly be. It was wonderful, amazing, the most pleasurable experience of my life.” Annoyance had made her face flush a becoming pink color. She was magnificent when aroused no matter how it occurred.

“Then I apologize for saying hurt. I expect what we did made you sore.”

“It did but I wouldn’t trade it for all the money in the world.” She huffed and got out of bed, allowing him to watch her magnificent, curvy body shrug into a wrapper. She flipped her hair and then leveled another glare at him. “Did you call me honey?”

Nick stared at her, helpless to answer. He had called her honey but he didn’t plan it. The word had popped out of his mouth without a thought.

She came around the side of the bed, her hands on her hips, her frown a miniature of his own. “Did you?”

“I, uh, I reckon I did.”

He waited for the second storm to hit but instead her expression softened. To his surprise, she reached down and kissed him hard. Her scent, of woman, of beauty, washed over him.

“Do it again
, Nicky.”

“Honey.” His voice had dropped to a whisper. She kissed him again, this time as softly as a butterfly wing.

He wanted to yank her on the bed and fuck her until neither one of them could move. He wanted to disappear inside the heat of her body. He wanted to marry her.

Holy shit indeed.

Winnie hurried to heat the water and took a standing bath in the hip tub rather than fill the big one. She wanted to get to the feed store that morning. There wasn’t a second to waste. She had to see Grace. Or rather, Martha. The name Grace was one she had given the little girl because
Winnie had given her away and with it, God’s grace. Twisted but true.

Nick had gone to saddle the horses. He’d been so sweet in her bed this morning and she loved him all the more for it. And he’d called her honey. Twice.

She hugged that knowledge to her chest, an unexpected gift. Nicholas appeared to have softened in the time she knew him. She considered that he probably hadn’t felt softness since he’d lost his mother. There was more to his story there, but she hadn’t wanted to push. He’d shared something with her she recognized he didn’t tell anyone else.

Another unexpected gift.

Perhaps his feelings for her were a mirror of what she felt for him. Hope warred with uncertainty and the need to protect herself. Winnie was tough because she’d had to be. The last few days were an aberration in her behavior and attitude. Nicholas’s harsh words had been the mental slap she’d needed to snap out of the ridiculous pit of despair she’d been mired in.

She
donned one of her best, a blue satin dress that had cost her a good deal, but she’d been told it matched her eyes. With a mind for where she would be going, Winnie pinned her hair up and added a matching blue hat. She pinched her cheeks for color and pronounced herself ready to go.

As she made her way downstairs, her stomach start
ed fluttering. Today she would meet her daughter. Today the rest of her life would be decided.

It was a daunting thought.

She was determined to be strong. No more weeping foolishness. She’d been through so much in her life and survived. Now was the time to draw on that strength and do everything she could to make a place for herself in Martha’s life.

Taking a deep breath, she went out the back door. Nicholas had the horses saddled and ready. He stood in the sunshine, as bright and
appealing as any sight. Her heart thumped and her confidence jumped. She could, she
would
, do this.

He turned to look at her and the appreciation in his gaze warmed her. “You look pretty as a picture.”

It was the first compliment he’d paid to her and she knew it was genuine. Many men would wax poetic about her hair or her eyes or her skin, but most were empty words. This man’s words were worth more fortune than she could ever hope for.

She sketched a rather impressive curtsey, or something that resembled one. “Thank you, kind sir.”

He shook his head and walked the mare over to her. “Let’s get going so we can eat. My gut is rubbing against my backbone.

Winnie hid her grin. He picked her up and set her on the horse, an impossible feat for anyone but the strongest of men. Ranching was hard work and it showed in his physically perfect form, the sinewy muscles that rippled beneath his shirt.
She had tasted them and ran her fingers along their lines. His hands lingered on her waist a few moments too long and she had to resist the urge to lean down and kiss him.

After the tasks of the day were done, they could find pleasure in each other’s arms again. For now she had to force herself to forget how enamored she was of him.

“Are we married today?” His question momentarily stunned her.

“Pardon?” Had he just asked her to marry him?

“Are we Mr. and Mrs. Graham today when we get to the feed store? I figured we might as well finish out this farce how we started it.” He swung up in the saddle with his usual grace, not recognizing his words had sliced through Winnie’s heart.

Farce?

“I suppose we should.” Her smile was brittle and if she made it any wider, she might have shattered her face.

“Then let’s get to eating so we can make it to the feed store before dinner. I expect it’s busiest early in the day.” He glanced at her and pursed his mouth. “Breakfast?”

“Of course. We must fill your belly before we act out our farce.” She nudged the mare into motion, her previous elation wiped out by his callous disregard for her feelings. What was she to expect? He told her about his nature, his callous disregard for the softer things in life, but last night, he’d called her honey. She was confused and angry, two things she didn’t need to work through today.

“Are you mad at me?” He spoke from behind her as they rode down the street toward her favorite breakfast restaurant.