Secrets Of The Night: A Case of Kiss and Tell

“Did that help?”

“Yes. She’s much better now,” Nichole said. “See, it wasn’t so bad. It’s not like she hit me.”

“Well, it’s good that you weren’t physically abused, but you still saw things that no child should. Who found your mom?”

“When she tried to kill herself?” Nichole asked.

Conner nodded. He suspected that she had, but he wanted to hear the story from her lips.

“I did. I … I thought she was sleeping and tried to wake her. When I couldn’t I panicked and called my dad. I told him everything. He took control and called 911. I just sat on the floor next to my mom holding her hand. It was really horrible,” Nichole said.

Conner put his hand on her shoulder to comfort her and then drew her into his arms. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, but thanks. Dad and I had a long talk about everything and after that Mom was much better. You know,” she said, turning to look up at him, “it was then I realized if he’d known from the beginning how bad Mom was when he was gone, he would have stopped it sooner. That helped me decide to be a reporter. Maybe I can find out some facts that will spare someone else.”

Conner wondered about that. It had been a reporter who’d uncovered his father’s second family and that had hardly helped him or Jane. The only thing that could help in those situations were adults who behaved like adults. Parents who understood that their first duty was to their child. Something his father hadn’t ever understood.

“I’m glad that you found a career that could help you,” Conner said and he meant it. Though it was the one thing that was keeping her from being his.

The car slowed to a halt in front of a walk-up apartment building.

“We’re here,” she said.

Conner grabbed her wrist before she could open her own door to get out. “I’ve tried to get you out of my mind.”

“Me, too,” she said.

He smiled. “Would you please consider negotiating with me again? I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep or even have a moment’s peace until we get this resolved.”

She nibbled her bottom lip and he leaned in to kiss it.

“Stop chewing your lip to bits. You know you want to figure out something between us.”

“I do. Want to come up and have a drink? We can discuss it in my living room instead of in the backseat of your car,” she said.

“Yes, I would like that,” he said.

Randall got out of the Rolls and opened the back passenger door. Nichole slid out of the car. Conner joined her on the sidewalk, telling Randall he could have the rest of the night off.

“Um … how do you plan on getting home?” she asked.

“A cab.”

Conner followed Nichole up the three flights of inside stairs to her apartment. When she unlocked the door and opened it, she stood there, hesitating for a minute. He knew that once they moved forward into her place, something would change between them.

This would be the first time they’d been somewhere private together. Not his mother’s party or his office or his sister’s apartment, but Nichole’s home. And there was the promise of intimacy in that.

Nichole figured that of all the men she’d invited back to her place, Conner was the most dangerous. He wasn’t one of her just-for-fun guys, that was for sure. She couldn’t even blame that on him. She was the one who wanted something more.

She’d like to say it was because of the chemistry between them, but she knew the mere chemistry was for boy toys. What made her want more with Conner was the depth she’d glimpsed in him. She knew there was more to him than met the eye and her subconscious was driving her to uncover this man’s mysteries.

She led him into her apartment, which was a respectable size for New York but not nearly as large or glamorous as Jane’s had been. She put her keys on the table in the hallway and as soon as he entered she closed the door behind him.

“Welcome to my home,” she said. “I’ve had enough alcohol tonight so all I’m serving is soft drinks or coffee.”

“Coffee sounds great,” he said.

“The living room is through there,” she said, pointing down the very short hallway. “Make yourself comfortable while I get the coffee. Do you take cream or sugar?”

“Both,” he said.

She walked away without looking back. She needed to regain her focus, maybe recall that she was trying to find out about him, not tell him every detail of her own life. But she knew that, somehow, if talking to him about her past helped him relax and eventually trust her, then she’d bare it all.

Hell, she’d seriously considered becoming his mistress for the story. Now she thought it might have been easier to sleep with him than to reveal the parts of herself she’d rather keep hidden.

She had one of those Keurig machines and absolutely adored it. She made coffee at all hours of the day and night now, and she could change blends without having to throw out the entire pot of coffee. Willow called the Keurig her dealer. And Nichole had laughingly agreed that coffee was definitely her drug of choice.

She made two cups in the matching I ♥ New York cups she’d bought when she’d first come to the city as a student. She put them on the serving tray that had been her grandmother’s, then placed the sugar dish and creamer next to the cups, along with spoons and napkins, and finally made her way to the living room.

She’d heard if you didn’t look at a full cup it wouldn’t spill, but the path of coffee stains on her carpet from the kitchen to her home office proved otherwise.

She had expected Conner to be sitting down on the couch or in her recliner. Instead, he was standing up studying the pictures that hung on the wall of her living room. He was in front of a photo of her with her parents on graduation day.

Though he didn’t say anything, she could almost sense that he was remembering what she’d told him about her mom earlier. “Seeing her like that, it’s hard to believe she has any problems.”

“Absolutely,” Conner said. “She looks happy and proud of you. They both do.”

“As I said, I’m an only child so I was always their entire world.”

“That’s good. I can stop thinking of you as the Little Match Girl.”

“Thank God. I never want you to think of me that way. Come and get your coffee,” she said.

She set the tray on the coffee table and then sat down in her recliner so she wouldn’t be seated right next to him. His arched eyebrow told her he knew what she was up to.

He added milk and sugar to his drink while she wiped up the coffee that had spilled out of her cup and pooled on the tray.

“Do you?” he asked, holding up the coffee mug.

“Huh?”

“Love New York?”

“Oh, yes. I do. I was so terrified when I first got here, but that quickly faded,” she said. “What about you?”

“I don’t especially love it. More like tolerate it,” he said. He took a sip of his coffee and then leaned against the back of the couch, crossing his legs.

As he settled in there in her house, Nichole knew the last thing she wanted was for him to go home tonight. She wanted to be curled up next to him now and then make love to him in her queen-sized bed later. But the only way she could do that was if she figured out how to get her story and her man.

She thought about the night and the dinner they’d shared. She hadn’t minded talking about her past when she’d known that it was only Jane, Palmer and Conner who would know about it, but if she’d thought that one of them might blog or tweet about what she’d said she would have felt differently.

“I think I get what you meant when you asked me how I’d feel if everyone read about my personal life,” she said.

“Do you? Given your past, I think you’d want to keep it hidden,” he said.

“That’s what I mean. But most of the people who know me can guess that there is something in my past that keeps me from being in a committed relationship.”

“And that has any bearing on this how?” he asked.

“Give me a second. I’m fiddling around with the problem between us. If we can find a way for me to write the story without asking you any direct questions about your past, would that be okay?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I thought the golden ticket was me talking about the past.”

“It is. But I can see now that you’ll never do that and I don’t know if I even want to write that story anymore. I’m thinking more that I can interview you about the TV show and then just observe your interactions with your family. I won’t ask them any questions and anything they say to me will be off the record, but my own personal observations might make interesting reading.”

Conner stood up and walked over to her chair, resting his hip on the arm as he leaned down over her. “Let me get this straight. You’ll observe me and my interpersonal relationships with my family but only interview me about the show?”

“Yes,” she said, tipping her head back to meet his eyes with her own.

“In exchange for being my mistress?” he asked.

She hesitated. She’d hoped to just have a relationship with him without the mistress arrangement, but it looked as if that was something Connor had to have.

Eight

Conner was reluctant to agree to anything with Nichole, but at this point she’d become such an obsession that he had no choice but to figure out a way to have her. He knew nothing else would satisfy him. He stood up and walked away from her chair.

Her apartment revealed a woman who had deep roots and connections to the people in her life. Every photo was genuine. No staged smiles, no fake emotions. He wanted to trust her, but the desire he felt for her made it harder for him to do it.

Was he giving her a free pass because he wanted her in his bed or was he seeing the signs of a woman he could truly trust? He just didn’t know, and he was afraid to make the wrong choice.

He had no problems acknowledging his own fears. He knew that he had weaknesses; if you pretended you didn’t, you were only fooling yourself and headed for a big fall.

He turned to look over his shoulder at her. She chewed her lower lip and stared pensively at him. He should just let go of the mistress thing, but he couldn’t. He wanted her to be his completely and only as his mistress would he have the freedom to make their every meeting about sex.

In his head it seemed like sex was the way to go. The one thing that would make a relationship with her manageable. Otherwise, he’d be tempted … hell, he already was tempted by everything about her. And he knew that he didn’t want to allow her to mean too much to him.

“You haven’t answered my question,” he said.

She shook her pretty head, the red hair brushing over her shoulders and her bangs falling forward to cover one eye before she tucked the hair back behind her ear again.

“I’ll do it,” she said, “but only if you agree to let me capture my own observations about your family and that dynamic. I think that will add a personal touch and that’s what my readers expect.”

He turned back to look at the wall of photos in her apartment. If he agreed to let her observe his family, he’d leave them all vulnerable. That wasn’t acceptable. How could he manage it?

He was so close to having Nichole and everything he wanted. And he was a damn smart man at the bargaining table, no matter who sat on the other side of it. He knew there had to be a way to make this work.

“How would you observe my family? With me present?” he asked.

“Yes, when we went to functions they were also attending. I assume you’d bring your …”

“Mistress,” he said. “If you can’t say it, how can you agree to be it?”

“I’m going to say girlfriend. We can both pretend it means mistress.”

“Don’t do that, Nichole,” he said. “Make sure you know that what we are going to have will be temporary. It’s stamped with an end date.”

She nibbled her lip again.

“You’re going to chew your lip raw,” he said.

She stopped. “You’re right. Why does it matter what I think about our arrangement?”

“Despite what you might think of me,” he said, “the last thing I want is to see you hurt.”

“That makes two of us,” she admitted.

“Good,” he said.

“So you’ll do it?”

He would be able to control the amount of access that Nichole had to his family. He didn’t know for sure if that would be sufficient, but in the end he knew he was going to agree to this. He would manage her and her access to his life. He’d been doing that with the media since he’d turned seventeen, so he wasn’t too worried about that.

“Yes,” he said.

“Okay … now what?”

He laughed at the way she said it.

“Well, we have to seal our deal.”

“In writing?”

“I don’t think so. That kind of document could end up in the wrong hands,” he said. “How about with a kiss?”

“A kiss … just one kiss?” she asked, standing up and walking over to him. “One kiss is never enough.”

“No, it’s not. So let’s say a kiss, but take whatever we get,” he said.

She nibbled her bottom lip again when he opened his arms to her. She just stood there staring at him and he wondered if now that he’d agreed she was going to back out.

“Second thoughts?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “And third and fourth thoughts. It all comes back to you and the story. I want you both. But a part of me is sure I’m going to regret this.”

He closed the gap between the two of them and pulled her into his arms. He hugged her gently, trying to reassure her, yet he honestly had no idea how this would turn out. He hoped by making her his mistress he’d be able to control the influence she had over his life and ensure that his emotions didn’t get engaged. But this was Nichole and nothing had gone according to plan since she’d shown up uninvited at his family’s Fourth of July party.

“I will do my best to make sure you have nothing to regret,” he said.

She tipped her head back and stared up at him with that pretty gaze of hers. “That’s the worst part. I know your intent isn’t to hurt me, just as mine isn’t to do any damage to you, but I’m not sure that as much as we are trying to make this a business arrangement that we’ll succeed.”

She had a point, but he’d made up his mind and she’d agreed to his terms. He wasn’t letting her go or giving her a chance to back out.

“We’ll both just have to do our best,” he said, lowering his head and taking the kiss he’d wanted all evening.

Nichole was glad to stop thinking and just enjoy Conner’s embrace. Tonight hadn’t gone exactly the way she thought it would but she’d gotten the one thing she’d set her mind on. Why, then, wasn’t she happier?

She was in Conner’s arms, enjoying his ravishing kiss, but her mind was reluctant to let her relax and just enjoy it.

“I can tell you’re still thinking,” he said. “I’m insulted that my kiss hasn’t distracted you.”

“You shouldn’t be. I’m just … oh, I don’t know. This is crazy. I spent my entire adult life building my career and trying very had to expose the truth, and I’ve just agreed to do something that feels like a back-alley deal.”

“There’s nothing back alley about it. It’s inevitable that you and I are going to have an affair. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel this kind of chemistry with every woman I meet.”

She had to admit that was true. “I guess that’s part of why I’m so shy about seeing this through. I know you said by making it a business agreement we could mitigate the possibility of both of us getting hurt, but I don’t know—”

“You can’t worry about the ending right now when we are just at the beginning,” he said.

He’d kept his arms around her and his words were dissolving her fears. She tipped her head back and he lowered his mouth to hers once again. This time, as their lips met, she let her fears melt away.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, as his hands slid down to her hips, drawing her closer to him. They were pressed chest to chest, hip to hip, and she wished they were even closer.

His tongue thrust into her mouth. She sucked on it and then let her hands find the buttons of his shirt. First she loosened his tie and then she undid the first few buttons so she could slip her hand under the cloth and touch his warm flesh. There was a faint dusting of hair on his chest and it tickled her fingers as she caressed him.

His hands were busy cupping her butt and drawing her closer to his groin. She felt him hardening against her as he thrust his hips into the notch at the top of her legs. She moaned in the back of her throat.

He tore his mouth from hers and she felt his lips against the side of her neck. He dropped nibbling kisses down the column of her neck, lingering to suckle the spot at the base where her pulse raced.

She tugged his shirttails from his pants and wrapped her arms around his bare torso. She wished she was bare-chested as well, wondered what it would feel like to have him pressed against her right now. She lightly scratched a pattern down his back along the line of his spine, touching him with growing passion as his mouth found hers again.

She let him control her. As if there was any other reaction she could have toward him. He was dominant and that came through in his embrace. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth and gently rubbed his tongue over it. She was trembling with passion. Sensations radiated from the kiss to the tips of her breasts and then lower as moisture pooled between her legs.

“I want you,” he said, in a husky whisper into her ear.

“Me, too,” she said.

He lifted her in his arms and carried her toward the couch. He sat down and set her on his lap. Her legs were to one side, one hand on his stomach, her other hand on his shoulder. He tipped her head up and kissed her again.

His hands swept over her body, pulling her blouse up until he’d exposed her midriff. His hands were warm as he rubbed them over her lightly. She shifted around so that she was reclining on his lap like some kind of sexual offering. Then he shifted their position on the couch until she was lying beneath him and he straddled her hips.

His shirt swung free, both sides falling away from his long, lean chest. She massaged his pectorals before she traced the light line of hair that tapered across his stomach to where it disappeared into his pants.

He moaned her name in a way that made it sound like ecstasy. She felt an answering tingle deep inside her own body. She shifted her legs until she could sprawl them open and then grabbed his hips to draw him down toward her. But he held fast.

“Not yet,” he said. “There is still so much of you I haven’t explored.”

She didn’t want this first time to last forever. She wanted him to continue overwhelming her senses until she came hard and repeatedly.

“I don’t want to wait.”

“Too bad,” he said. “You’re my mistress. What I say goes.”

He leaned down and bit lightly at the flesh just above her left breast. She glanced down to see that he’d left a tiny mark.

“I don’t want you to forget you’re mine,” he said.

“There’s not a chance of that happening,” she said. She reached between them for his belt and started to undo it. But he stopped her by wrapping his hands around her wrists. He drew them up above her head and held them there.

“Not yet,” he said, firmly. He pushed her blouse farther up her body until her breasts were revealed encased in a flesh-colored bra. It was more practical than sexy, but the way that Conner looked at her told her he didn’t need lace to be turned on by her.

Her nipples were hard and beaded against the material. Conner plucked at her right nipple with his free hand then lowered his head to put his mouth over her left one. She felt everything inside her clench at that touch. Her hips arched up toward his and, as he continued to suck on her nipple through the fabric of her bra, she arched her hips. Desperately trying to reach his.

She tugged on her arms, trying to free her wrists, but Conner held her firmly without hurting her. There was such decadence in the way he held her and touched her. She was shivering on the edge of an orgasm and she wasn’t sure what she wanted at this point.

One thing she wanted was to feel his erection pressing against her, but she knew he wasn’t going to lower his hips until he was good and ready.

“Conner …”

“Yes …”

“I’m going to come.”

“Not until I tell you to,” he said.

“I can’t wait,” she said, her words gasped out as she kept lifting her hips. He lowered his mouth to her breast again and let go of her hands as he thrust his hips against hers. Even through their clothing, the tip of his erection hit her clitoris and she shuddered as her orgasm washed over her.

Conner hadn’t meant for the kiss to go as far as it had, but he’d been wanting her for so long it was all he could do not to open his pants and thrust himself deep inside her straight away. Holding her while she came was a double-edged sword that made his desire even stronger.

But he hadn’t come to her house prepared to make love to her and he wasn’t about to chance accidentally getting her pregnant. He wasn’t thinking too clearly when he felt her hands between his legs and her fingers moving over his fly. She’d undone his belt and the next thing he knew her hands were on his hard-on.

She slid her fingers over the tip and his hips jerked forward, a bead of moisture slipping out. She rubbed her finger over it and then brought it to her lips to lick it away.

Her other hand pushed his pants and underwear over his hips and then he felt her cupping him. She squeezed gently as she rose up and found his mouth with hers. She kissed long and slow and deeply.

He leaned down over her, letting his bare chest brush over her bra. He reached underneath her body and undid the catch and then pushed the fabric off her breasts. Her skin was lightly freckled and he leaned down to kiss each of the freckles before slowly making his way to her strawberry-colored nipples.

He tongued them as she continued to caress his erection. He wanted her and could think of nothing but getting inside her silky-smooth body.

He let his hands skim lower to the waistband of her skirt and unzipped the side fastening before pushing it down her legs. She shifted underneath him until the skirt was completely off.

He thrust his hips forward and felt the smoothness of her skin underneath him. She felt so soft and womanly and as he stared down into those chocolate-brown eyes of hers, he felt something else change inside of him. Something more emotional, and that jarred him. Nichole was the one woman he’d met who made him react this way. This strongly. And he didn’t know if making love to her was such a smart decision after all.

But his body wouldn’t let him back down now. Wise or not, he wanted her. He wasn’t going to be able to breathe again until he was buried hilt-deep in her curvy body with those long legs of hers wrapped around his waist.

He also knew he didn’t want to rush this first time with her. He stood up, toed off his shoes and stepped out of his pants and underwear.

Before he reached down to lift her in his arms, he asked, “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Down the hall,” she said, gesturing to the left. He held her high in his arms and walked the short distance to her room. “In here.” She reached out and hit the light switch as he entered the room. It was flooded with soft light from two bedside lamps. Her bed was queen-sized with an aqua-blue comforter on it. He set her on her feet and slowly finished undressing her, taking his time to enjoy each new patch of skin revealed.

“Do you have a condom?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Thank God,” she said.

Once she was naked, he lifted her onto the bed and laid her back against the pillows. The aqua comforter was the perfect backdrop for her red hair and her creamy freckled skin. She kept her knees bent, but he saw the red hair that covered her most intimate secrets. He shrugged out of his shirt and stood there looking down at her.