Authors: Kelly Jamieson
“Where the hell were you?” he asked, irritation drawing his brows together.
“We went for a bike ride.” Krissa smiled down at her water-splotched sweater. “We walked out on the Breakwater and it was so fun! The waves were huge. And we went to the zoo.”
“The zoo?” Derek looked from Krissa to Nate. “Well.”
Krissa glanced up and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Derek shook his head and scowled.
She studied him for a few seconds, then said, “I’ll go change and then make dinner.”
She started to walk away. “Krissa. Wait.” Nate stopped her. She turned and looked at him, brows raised.
“Don’t just walk away.”
Her eyes flickered. “What do you mean?”
Nate took a step toward her, stopped. “I mean, Derek is clearly pissed off about something. Make him tell you what it is.”
She licked her lips, eyes darting between him and Derek. Nate, too, shot a glance Derek’s way. His scowl had deepened. Then her eyes came back to Nate. “I don’t want to,” she whispered.
“I know.”
Their gaze held and he willed her to stand up to her husband, to not let him get away with acting like an asshole for no reason.
Krissa turned to Derek. “Okay. I’ll ask again. What’s wrong?”
He said nothing. His jaw tightened.
“Oh, Derek.” Her shoulders relaxed and she went over to him, put her hands on his waist. “Just tell me. Are you mad at me about something? Because I wasn’t here with dinner ready when you got home?”
Derek looked away, shoved a hand into his hair. “No. Yes. I sound like a spoiled idiot.”
“Yes, you do.” She kissed his jaw. “Are you mad because Nate and I went out together?”
“That too.”
“We just went for a bike ride.”
“I know. I’m a jerk. You two can go have fun if you want. Although…when do you ever get any work done these days?”
She sighed. “I’ll do some work tonight for a few hours.”
Nate held in a groan. She’d been doing so well there. “Is that what you’d planned to do Krissa?”
She turned to him. She studied him. “Yes,” she finally said. “That’s what I’d planned. I need to get the proposal done.”
“Okay.” He didn’t want her doing it just because Derek thought she should. He wanted her to tell him she’d manage her work herself, but then, Nate was the one who’d gotten her into this, so maybe expecting her to stand up to Derek wasn’t fair.
“I dragged her with me, Derek,” he said. “She didn’t want to come. I thought it would be good for her—for both of us—to get out and get our minds off…you know.”
Derek nodded. He kissed Krissa’s forehead. “You’re right, Nate. I’m sorry. I guess I just felt left out. I was sitting in meetings all afternoon while you two were out having fun. But I’m glad you did.”
Nate saw Krissa inhale a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She gave them both a quick smile. “Okay, now I’m going to get changed.”
He was sorry he’d pushed her. But then, not really so sorry.
Krissa’d convinced him to go to the gallery showing in L.A. He’d rented a car, which gave him much more freedom to come and go as he wanted. Not that he had much to do. Driving during the day wasn’t a problem, but at night his eyes were still too sensitive to the oncoming headlights of cars and he obviously couldn’t wear dark glasses at night.
He’d gotten out and around town, visited some old friends and some old haunts, checked out some photography stores and galleries.
But the day before he was to leave for L.A., Krissa came to find him in the basement work-out room, where he bench-pressed ever increasing weights. He’d put on weight from eating Krissa’s cooking, and felt more like his old self physically. He’d fully recovered from the botulism, other than his goddamn eyes.
“I just did the ovulation test,” she announced, her brows drawn together over her small nose. “I’m supposed to ovulate in the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”
“Oh. Great.”
“No, it’s not great. You’re going away. Just when we need to…uh…”
“Oh, yeah. Damn.” He lowered the weight and stared at her. “Well, I wasn’t that enthusiastic about going anyway.”
“But you should go. I said that before.” Her pretty mouth pouted and he could see her thinking.
“Well, then, the other option is you come with me.”
She tilted her head to one side. “I guess I could. I don’t have client meetings or anything until Monday next week. But what about Derek?”
“He should come too.”
“If we’re going to…”
He nodded. “Check with him, then.”
“We can talk about it tonight when he’s home.”
But Derek said he couldn’t take off for two days to go to L.A. “I’ve got things scheduled that I can’t move. I’m about to close a huge sale. I need to be here.”
“Oh.” Nate could read the disappointment on Krissa’s expressive face, her eyes cast down, mouth dipping at the corners.
“But you two go,” Derek said.
Krissa’s head shot up. “Really?”
The three of them all looked at each other for a long moment as they each weighed the implication of that. Krissa looked from Derek to Nate and back. Nate watched her, then looked at Derek.
Derek nodded. “Yeah. Go. Do what you have to do. It’s fine.”
“But we wanted you to be there when…” Krissa’s voice trailed off.
Derek shrugged. “I know. I want to be, too. But we don’t want to blow another opportunity and…” his gaze flicked back to Nate. “This might be the last chance.”
Nate had said nothing to Derek about leaving. Again, he felt that faint hint that Derek maybe wanted him gone. He wasn’t trying to convince him to stay any longer, that was for sure.
“Are you sure, Derek?” he asked quietly.
Derek was looking at Krissa, and he smiled faintly. “Yeah.”
Nate’s gut tightened as he walked into Gallery 228 on Melrose Avenue.
The buzz of conversation mingled with cool jazz sax music in the über-stylish building. Gleaming golden wood floors met stark white walls.
He and Krissa paused in the foyer. He took a long breath. She reached for his hand and squeezed it.
“It’s fine,” she said.
He studied her. She wore a violet silk dress, strapless, with a big bow over her breasts that made him think about reaching out and tugging it. The dress skimmed over her slim body to just above her knees, and high-heeled barely-there sandals added a few inches to her height. With more makeup than she usually wore, she looked stunningly glamorous and sexy. She totally fit in with the hip urban vibe in the art gallery.
He’d had to dig deep into his bag for something to wear. The black jacket he’d pulled out had been wrinkled until he’d hung it in the steamy bathroom, an old trick learned while traveling. He wore it over dark jeans, with a loose white linen shirt and a thin scarf draped loosely around his neck. He hadn’t been sure about the jeans, but hey, he was an artist, he could get away with it.
“Nate!” Greg greeted him, a drink in his hand. He put out his free hand to shake Nate’s. “So glad you could make it!”
Nate shook Greg’s hand, taking in the owner of Gallery 228 in his gold velvet jacket and skinny black pants.
“Greg, this is my friend Krissa. Krissa, Greg Boscoe.”
Krissa shook hands with Greg with a smile. “Pleased to meet you.”
Greg eyed her and gave Nate an approving look. “Likewise. Come on in. I’ll get you a drink and then introduce you around.”
He led them into the gallery. People crowded the long space, standing in front of the images hung on the wall, artfully lit with small spotlights hanging from the exposed beams of the ceiling. Experimentally, Nate removed his dark glasses. He blinked. As long as he stayed out of the direct illumination of the lights, it wasn’t too bad in there, despite all the white reflecting around him. He tucked the glasses into the inside pocket of his jacket.
Nate’s eyes went to the first image—his photographs of fishing docks he’d taken in Thailand. A thrill of pride rushed through him at the display of his work and all the people there to see it. He glanced at Krissa and she gave him an excited smile with a hitch of one bare shoulder. He reached for her hand and took it in his, held it as they followed Greg to the bar at the back of the gallery.
“This is very cool,” she murmured to him.
“I guess.”
When they each had a glass of Merlot in their hand, Greg began introducing them to other guests.
“And this is my partner, Denzel,” Greg said, sliding an arm around the man. “He adores your work, Nate.”
Nate shook hands with Denzel. “Thanks.”
“What’s up for you next?” Greg asked. “You’ve been back in the States for a while now. No more traveling?”
Here came the stuff he’d been dreading—the questions, the curiosity…the pity. “Not sure,” he murmured. “I’ve been taking some time off. I haven’t made plans yet.”
“I heard you were going to be working on a book. That’s so exciting!”
“Mmm. Well, that got put on hold for a while. Not sure when I’ll get back to that.” He didn’t know if he’d ever get back to that. But he wasn’t about to say that. Krissa squeezed his hand, and he felt taller. Stronger.
“If you’re still interested in doing a book, you should meet Blake Remata. He works for Zenith Publishing. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
Nate and Krissa followed Greg to another group of people where he performed more introductions. Meeting another publisher was great, except Nate still had no idea if he was ever going to be able to photograph again. Although…his eyes roamed around the room. It wasn’t exceptionally bright in there, but nor was it dark. His eyes felt surprisingly good without the glasses.
They mingled and chatted, drank more wine.
“You have such a sense of composition,” one woman told him.
“I love the minimalism,” another guest said. “It’s almost Zen-like. Beautiful balance. Harmony.”
Nate absorbed all the compliments and praise for his work. His ego had been battered lately and all the adulation helped build him up. And having Krissa at his side made it all that much better. She squeezed his hand or his arm at every accolade, and the look of pride on her face was worth more than every word of praise from someone else.
He loved having her at his side. Some warm emotion washed over him and he pulled her away from the crowd, off to the side. He set his wine glass down on a table, put his hands on her hips.
She smiled up at him, and he took her wineglass, too and set it next to his. Her hands came to rest on his chest. He pulled her against him, pelvis to pelvis.
“What?” she asked.
He lifted a hand to stroke her hair, push it behind one bare shoulder. She looked so beautiful tonight, glowing and proud and sexy. He couldn’t wait to get her back to the hotel room and fuck her mindless. His dick leaped at the thought.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
He bent his head but stopped with his mouth a breath apart from hers. “You’re gorgeous, Krissa. Thank you for coming with me.”
Her eyelids drifted closed as she waited for his mouth to touch hers, and then, over her shoulder Nate saw a group of people he knew walk into the gallery. People he knew very well.
He lifted his head.
“Nate!” His mother spotted him, put out her arms and made a beeline across the room to him. “Oh, Nate!”
Oh, Christ.
Krissa opened her eyes and turned in his arms. Nate’s first impulse was to push her away from him. But it was too late for that. His entire family trailed along behind his mother and had already seen him in the heated clinch with Krissa. Jesus.
He gently stepped apart from her, and moved her to his side. She tossed a questioning glance at him, and he gave her a crooked smile, then turned to his mother as she threw herself into his arms.
He’d forgotten what a little thing she was. He’d been bigger than her since he was twelve. Something twisted inside him and he hugged his mother, whom he hadn’t seen for over two years. He looked over her head as his father and two brothers, along with their escorts, approached.
His dad smiled, but his eyes were wary and he appeared to be fighting his emotions. Both his brothers looked—annoyed.
He greeted them all with hugs and back slaps, a big family reunion he hadn’t planned on having here at Gallery 228.
“Nate, this is my girlfriend, Tara,” his brother Bryan introduced them. His other brother, Rich, presented his girlfriend Helen and Nate then introduce Krissa to everyone. His parents eyed her with interest, their gaze dropping to Nate and Krissa’s clasped hands as they stood there. Then Nate’s mom spotted the ring on Krissa’s left hand.
“Oh my God!” she cried, reaching for Krissa’s hand. “Nate, did you get married? And not tell us?”
Nate’s stomach rolled. “Uh…no. No, Mom.”
Still holding Krissa’s hand, his mother looked up at him. “But…oh.” She slowly released Krissa. “Oh.”
Nate saw the flush creep up Krissa’s face. “I’m married to Nate’s friend Derek,” she said. “Derek Hallson.”
“Oh, of course, I remember Derek! What a charming smooth talker that boy was. Still is, probably.” Mrs. Cowan chatted brightly apparently trying to cover her blunder.
“Yes, he is,” Krissa agreed. She glanced at Nate.
“I’ve been staying with them for the last month or so,” Nate told his mom.
Her brows slanted down. “Oh. You’ve been home for a whole month? And never came to see us?”
Guilt smacked him in the back of the head just like his mom used to do when he was a kid. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’ve had some problems and I didn’t want to be a burden to you guys.”
“Nate.” His mom’s voice was firm. “How could you possibly be a burden? We haven’t even seen you since…since Lauren died.”
Nate glanced around at the other guests. “This isn’t really the place to be talking about all this.”
“You’re right,” she immediately said, linking her arm through his. “Show me these pictures.”
So Nate led his family through the gallery, along with Krissa, talking about the photographs hanging on the walls and the stories behind some of them.
By ten o’clock almost every picture hanging had been sold. Nate’s mind reeled from the money he’d just made. Greg beamed and shook Nate’s hand vigorously as they prepared to leave. Only a few guests remained, including Nate’s family.
His mom still had the guilt trip thing down pretty good. “How long are you in L.A.?”
“We’re going back to Montecito tomorrow.”
Her face drooped. “Oh, no! Without even seeing us!”
Nate glanced at Krissa. “Krissa has business to get home to, and a husband.”
“Well, at least have breakfast with us. I need to know what’s going on with you…you’ve been so out of touch.” Her eyes reproached him, her head tilted, her mouth pouting. He couldn’t help but smile.
“I’m sorry, Mom, but we can’t.”
The disappointment on her face grabbed at his gut and twisted it.
“Nate.” Krissa spoke beside him, voice low. “You should have breakfast with your family.”
He glanced at her. “But you need to get back…”
“A few hours is no big deal. Go ahead.”
“But…you…”
“I can entertain myself for a few hours.”
“You’re welcome to join us, Krissa,” Nate’s mom said, her gaze moving back and forth between them. Krissa met his gaze and he felt her encouragement.
Nate wanted to say no. “Okay, then.”
They made arrangements to meet the next morning in the restaurant of the hotel where he and Krissa were staying. When everyone had gone, Nate turned to Krissa. “I guess we should go.”
Her eyes met his. He knew they were both thinking the same thing, both thinking about what was going to happen next. His skin tightened and tingled and his groin ached. Sex with Krissa had been in the back of his mind all night, adding an edge to the excitement he’d been feeling.
“Yes,” she said.
He let Krissa drive to the hotel, averting his eyes from glaring headlights. They let the valet take the vehicle and walked through the elegant lobby. The boutique hotel’s décor was retro-chic, with fifties-style furniture sitting atop shag carpet. Dark wood paneled the walls, and floor lamps with huge cylindrical shades provided ambient light.
“That was fun,” Krissa said with a sigh as they walked into their room. She set the little envelope she called a purse on the dark wood dresser.
“It was unbelievable.”
“Are you glad you came?”
He nodded slowly. “I guess so. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be. Except…sorry about my family showing up.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s nice that they came. Didn’t you know they were coming?”
“I put them on the invitation list, but that was six months ago. I’d forgotten all about it.”
“Nate?” Krissa perched on the edge of a chocolate brown tub chair.
“Mmm?” He shrugged out of the jacket, laid it over the back of another chair.
“Have you really not talked to your family for two years?”
“I’ve talked to them.”
She gave him a look, chin down, eyes up.
“On the phone,” he continued, undoing the button of the white shirt he wore loose and untucked under the jacket. “A few times.”
“Nate, that’s awful.”
“I know.” He removed the shirt.
“Why?”
“I just couldn’t face it all. After Lauren died.”
“But Nate…they’re your family. Family can help at a time like that. Why would you cut yourself off from a support group like that, when you were going though something so tough?”
Because…the words stuck in his throat. He stared at her, so beautiful in the glow of the floor lamp beside the chair. It cast a circle of illumination around her, gleaming off her dark hair, her glowing face, making her the focal point of the room. “I know it was wrong,” he said hoarsely. He ran a hand through his hair. “I had my reasons. Do we have to talk about this now?”
He moved closer to her. “There are other things I’d rather be doing.”
Her pupils expanded, darkening those green eyes watching him.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“You are totally deflecting me.”
“Yes, I totally am.” He reached for her hands and drew her out of the chair to stand in front of him. Their bodies brushed together. She gazed at him wide eyed. “You look gorgeous. I love this dress.” He fingered the silky bow between her breasts. “If I undo this, will the dress fall off?”
She laughed softly. “No. There’s a zipper on the side. The bow is just for show.”
“Ah. I kept wondering about that all night.” He slid a finger under the top edge of bodice, felt the swell of her breast, hear her soft intake of breath.
“It was fun to get dressed up for a change.”
“Doesn’t Derek ever take you out?” He murmured the words against the side of her warm, fragrant neck. She shivered against him.
“Yes. Sometimes. Usually business things.”
He pressed his mouth there in an open-mouthed kiss, drew her flesh into his mouth in a gentle suckle. She gasped.
She put her hands on his chest, let her head fall to the side as he kissed her neck, shoulder, dragged his tongue across her collarbone.
“You taste so good,” he murmured. “And smell good. And feel good…”
She muffled a giggle. “Thank you.” She threaded her fingers into his hair and held his head as he kissed her throat. His lips paused over the pulse beating there, a quick excited flutter, her blood pulsing through her veins. He sucked the flesh gently into his mouth and she gasped. “Are you a vampire?” Her fingers tightened in his hair.
He laughed. “I vant to suck your blood.” He drew a little harder, but quickly released her, not wanting a big embarrassing hickey there in the morning for his family to see. They probably had enough ideas about what was going on between them.
He licked her throat, nipped at her jaw, drew his tongue across her soft bottom lip. A moan vibrated inside her throat. Her fingers scraped across his scalp, sending tingles showering down through his body like sparks. His hands cupped her breasts through the dress, the thin silk a fragile barrier between them.
“I was so proud of you tonight,” she said, head falling back. His hands roamed over body. “You’re so talented, Nate.”
“So are you.”
“No I’m not. I have no talent for anything.”
He drew back and frowned at her. “What? Don’t be crazy.”
She smiled faintly and shook her head. “I’m just being honest. You know me—jumping from one job to the next.”
“You obviously have a talent for what you’re doing now. Big new clients. Gemini. The city of Santa Barbara. Krissa, be proud of yourself, of what you’re doing.”
She stared at him wide-eyed. Blinked. “Thank you, Nate. No one has ever said that to me before.”
She had to be kidding. She was so smart and caring and warm. Everyone loved her.
He shook his head, kissed her tenderly on the mouth, trying to show her with actions the feelings he couldn’t put into words. He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her deeply, felt her arms slide around his neck. He wanted to be closer to her, as close as they could be. He shoved the dress up around her hips, and with his hands beneath her ass, he lifted her against him. She wound her legs around him, clutching his head as he carried her like that to the bed.
“Nate!” She gasped as he tossed her onto the bed and she bounced gently on the creamy duvet. Her skirt was up around her hips, exposing her long sleek legs and a flash of black lace panty. Her mouth was swollen, eyes sparkling, hair mussed.
“Christ, you’re sexy.” His fingers went to the button of his jeans.
“Oh, stop.” She rose onto her knees, watching him.
“Huh?” He stood there bare-chested, fingers at his fly.
“I want to undress you. I’ve never done that.”
“Oh.” He smiled. “Okay.”
She scrambled off the bed, brushed her hands over his chest, lingering to rub over each nipple, and sharp sensations moved over his skin at her touch. Urgency rose in him, the need to take her immediately, to be inside her.
Then she undid his pants, lowered the zipper slowly, and gently pushed them to the floor. He stepped out of them, pushing his socks off too and let her touch him through the soft cotton of his briefs. His erection throbbed and stretched the fabric. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes as she went to her knees in front of him.
“Krissa.”
“Mmm?” She laid her cheek against his hard cock, eyes closed. Fingers stroked, then she kissed him through the cotton.
“I can’t take…much more…we have to make sure…”
“Oh, but I don’t want to rush!” She stroked him again, pressed her nose there and took in a big breath. Fuck! Pressure gathered and built in his spine, his balls drew up tight.
If he came before he got inside her…
He reached down and hauled her to her feet. He grabbed handfuls of the dress and hiked it up, found her little thong underwear and with two fingers, yanked hard and ripped them on one side.
“Nate!” Her shocked gasp inflamed him even more, his blood surging hot and urgent through his veins and especially into his dick. So close, so close…he threw her down onto the bed, wishing he could be more gentle, take his time, but Christ, his orgasm was building higher and he was dangerously close to coming.
He came down over her, roughly, shoving her dress up, pushing into her hot pussy. She was wet, thank God, and her cries of surprise, her hands clutching at him, urged him on.
He pushed into her once, twice, three times and then he exploded, heat and light surrounding him, her wet warmth hugging his cock. She lifted her legs, clenched his hips with her thighs, and he felt the sting of her fingernails on his ass as she pressed up to meet his orgasm.
“Krissa. Krissa.” He poured himself into her in hard, hot jets, shuddering through a blinding climax. There wasn’t even time to make her satisfied, and he always tried to make sure she came first. He grunted and gasped through his release, the vague thought flickering through his mind that he’d make it up to her later. But right now—he was out of control, lost, buried balls deep in her, shooting his seed into her—and he loved it.