Spice (24 page)

“Very funny. You're lucky you're so good in bed.” She scooped a forkful of egg onto the corner of her toast and took a bite. “Uhm, delicious. Wow, this breakfast concept is a winner!”

She attacked the food, partly because it was that good and partly because she wanted to deflect further questions about her former life. Once they cleaned their plates, she gathered the dishes and took them into the kitchen to place in the dishwasher. “Is the ramen broth okay?”

“It will be fine for a while. It needs to simmer. I'll make sure it doesn't boil down too far and in a couple of hours I'll need to make the
char siu
. That's the pork that tops a bowl of Tokyo ramen, but it's pretty tasty with rice too. It can be made with pork belly, but our family prefers pork loin.”

“How do you cook the pork?”

“You brown it like you normally would, but then you simmer it in a pot of water mixed with soy sauce, sugar, and garlic for about an hour, thirty minutes each side.”

“What kind of spices do you use to flavor it?”

“Flavor is different from seasoning,” he explained. “The soups are either a salt flavor, a soy sauce flavor—not the red top kind you find in Chinese restaurants—miso, or a pork flavor, which really is more a style. As for condiments, it depends on your taste buds. Some spices are married to the bowl when the soup is created, and some spices can be added like a condiment at the table.”

He filled a glass with ice and water. “I could go on and on about ramen but I think I'll stop while I'm ahead. It was always our go-to comfort meal. No matter what was going on, no matter how bad, it was always better when we got to the bottom of a bowl of ramen.”

“I like hearing about it. A day you learn something new is a good day.”

“I can agree with that.”

He led her into the living room, where they settled together on the couch. She flipped through the channels until she found a history documentary they agreed on, then settled back against him. “You've told me all about ramen and your mother's recipe, but didn't you mention that your father's Irish? Did you grow up eating any traditional Irish meals?”

“We had a few in the rotation,” he said, cradling her in his arms. “Shepherd's pie was always a favorite, and so was stew. And I can't forget Irish soda bread.”

“I make that every St. Patrick's Day for the café,” she said. “Actually, we celebrate for the entire week. Siobhan does a stew and shepherd's pie and a corned beef sandwich. Not a shamrock or green pastry in sight. Maybe I can make the soda bread for you one day soon and you can tell me whether I do a good job or not.”

“I'll tell you a secret.” He kissed the top of her head. “Give my dad homemade soda bread and he'll be putty in your hands.”

“Good to know,” she said, making a mental note. “What about the son? Will he be putty in my hands too?”

“He already is.”

He had an amazing ability to say the right thing to make her heart flutter in her chest, make her slide one step closer to full-blown love. The thought no longer frightened her, she realized. In fact, she welcomed it.

“You can be putty, but I like it much better when you're hard. Think we can christen the coffee table before you have to check the soup?”

The slow grin he gave her warmed her blood. “As my lady desires.”

N
adia fell back against the pillows, giggling. Kane fell to the pillows beside her. “You'd better not be laughing at me.”

“No, no,” she said, gasping for air between giggles. “With you. Definitely laughing with you, I swear. What in the world was that position called again?
X marks the spot?
”

He chuckled. “I believe the sheik gave it the most colorful name of
the
bend of the rainbow
.”

“Well you definitely have to be bent to do it. Let's not and say we did, okay? I don't want to hear either of our bodies make noises like that ever again.”

He worked to catch his breath. “Works for me.”

She snorted, covered her face, then snorted again. It was kind of adorable, even if she was laughing at him, and not with him at all.

Kane looked down, then grimaced. “I think I just lost my enthusiasm.”

“Oh Kane, I'm sorry.” She tried to smother her laughter, which, while admirable, was obviously a lost cause. “I still want to have sex, I just need to—I can't seem to stop giggling! Give me a moment, okay?”

“That's my cue to go answer nature's other call. I'll give you time to recover.” He kissed her to show there were no hard feelings, then got up to head to the adjoining bathroom. Truth be told, he actually enjoyed her laughter. It meant she was comfortable with him, and he wanted that.

There were moments when it seemed like she was throwing up mental roadblocks, speed bumps to halt the forward motion of their relationship. Most of the time, though, she didn't overthink what they were doing or how fast they were doing it, she just relaxed and enjoyed their time together. Those moments were golden, and he did everything he could to make sure they happened often. Even if that meant she laughed at him. Or with him.

When he returned to the bedroom it was to find Nadia on her side facing him, her earlier laughter gone, a renewed passion brewing in her eyes. She'd put on the nipple jewelry, the gold clamps plumping the dark beads to stiff peaks. “Kaname.”

Did she have any idea what it did to him when she used his full name like that? She probably did, since there was no hiding his reviving enthusiasm. “What chased your laughter away?”

“You did. Or rather, your fine behind as you walked away.” She smiled. “And the view coming back. You are such a gorgeous man, Kaname Sullivan. Do you realize that?”

“When you look at me like that, I kind of get the feeling.”

“I can do more than look,” she said throatily. “Come here.”

“As my lady desires.” When she spoke like that, he had no choice but to follow through. He climbed back into bed beside her, leaning over to capture her mouth. As he did, her hand skimmed down his chest and past his abs to take him in hand.

“The sheik dispenses knowledge on a wide variety of sexual subjects,” she told him when they parted. “He was also an authority on proper manhood size. What was it that he said?”

She stroked him, fingers curled snugly around him. “Oh yes. ‘The virile member, to please women, must have at most a length of the breadth of twelve fingers, or three handbreadths, and at least six fingers, or a hand and a half breadth.'”

Sitting upright, she wrapped both hands around him, her right thumb teasing the head. “I happen to think you're very virile.”

He tilted his head back, enjoying the sensation of her hands on him. “I happen to think you inspire me.”

She stroked him again. “I treated you badly, laughing like that. I'd like to make up for it.”

“You're doing a damn good job.”

“I can do better.” She kissed him, so slow and deep he reached for her. She slipped out of his grasp, then kissed her way down his throat, wet, nipping kisses that hardened his cock painfully. He hissed as she gently closed her teeth on his nipples, enjoying the sensation of her mouth on his skin, her hand still working his erection.

“Nadia . . .” Anticipation stung him, tensing his stomach muscles.

“Hmm?” Her lips grazed his abdomen, her tongue dipping into his navel.

“Urgh.” All rational thought fled as his hindbrain growled,
Fuck y
eah
.

She laughed softly, her breath a warm puff of air over his cock. “That's what I thought.” She ran her tongue around his engorged head as she expertly pushed his foreskin back. The same wet nipping kisses were employed again as she kissed her way down the underside of his cock to his balls, laving them with her tongue. Then her mouth closed over him.

He threw his head back with a loud groan, pressing into the pillows as she began to draw on him. Willing his eyes to stay open, he stared down, watching as she worked him with mouth and hand. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen, the sweet sensations hardening him even more.

Caught, helpless, he thrust his hands into her hair, lifting his hips in an age-old rhythm. Thankfully she allowed him to set the pace, her hands cupping his balls, squeezing him gently as she suckled him. His breath caught in his throat as she turned her head enough to fix her gaze to his, watching his pleasure as he watched her please him. He felt her stare like a physical caress, as if she'd gathered him in a full body hug. Their connection snapped into place, sure and strong and undeniable as she demanded that he give her his orgasm, called for it with mouth and hand and gaze.

He could feel it, sooner than he wanted, sooner than he'd hoped, boiling up from his toes, threatening to consume him. “Nadia,” he ground out, the only warning he could give her as he struggled to contain his need to come.

She ignored him. Or rather, she insisted that he come for her with a long suckling draw that made his eyes roll back as he surrendered. An electric zap raced down his spine to his balls as he came hard and long, her name half curse, half praise as it tore from his throat.

It wasn't enough. It was never enough. As she released him and moved to sit up, he caught her about the waist and lifted her to straddle him. With a sharp jerk of his hips he thrust his still-hard cock into her wet and wanting sheath.
“Screw of Archimedes.”

Her gasp of surprise descended into a deep groan of pleasure. She settled onto him, her inner muscles rippling to accommodate him. Passion lit the depths of her molasses-dark gaze as she leaned forward to place her hands on either side of his chest, rocking her hips as she began to ride him.

Wanting to give her every bit of the ecstasy she'd given him, he cupped her breasts in his hands, gently tugging on the clamps gripping her nipples. She moaned and tightened around him in response, a deep, vibrating sound of pleasure he felt down to his balls.

“Kaname,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire as she increased her pace, their bodies slapping together. “Make me come, Kaname.”

“As my lady desires,” he managed to grind out, left breathless by the vision of Nadia, his Nadia, looking like a goddess as she rocked above him, taking her pleasure. He dropped his right hand down to the sweet spot where they joined together, gently pinching her slit tight around his cock before releasing it. Tight then release, tight then release. She moaned again, and he could easily sense her need for more.

Raising his knees, he planted his feet on the bed for leverage so he could lunge up as she plunged down, her sweet heat making him as hard and as needy as if he hadn't come like a freight train just minutes before. He turned his wrist, his thumb stroking over her clit. She moaned again, the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, leaning back against his upraised knees as her movements became jerky, almost frantic.

“Kaname,” she panted, her eyes fastened to his. “Kaname . . .”

He knew what she wanted, what she pleaded for. He circled her clit with his thumb, ramming upwards with his hips to impale her completely. “Come for me, Nadia,” he demanded. “Come for us.”

She threw her head back, coming with a keening cry. The sight of her in the throes of her pleasure, the sensation of her muscles clamping down on him threw him over the brink again, lifting his hips clear of the bed, coming deep inside her like coming home.

—

After a quick trip to the bathroom, Nadia joined Kane back in bed, limp-limbed and completely sated. He turned off the bedside lamp then pulled her close as he loved to do, one hand low on her belly, the other just below her breasts, the front of his body fused to the back of hers. It was a possessive hold, and she found it didn't bother her in the least. “This has been the best weekend ever,” she said, almost drunk with contentment. “The company, the gifts you gave me, the road trip, and that incredible ramen. Five stars all around!”

“I couldn't agree more,” he said, his hand spread over her abdomen. “By the way, I added a key to your keychain.”

“You did?”

“Uhm-hmm.” He murmured against her shoulder. “Condo key.”

She froze. “Are you serious?”

“Very. I don't want you waiting outside for me ever again.”

“Oh.” She entwined her fingers with his hand on her belly, giving them a squeeze. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“You're welcome. There's something I'd like to ask you, though.”

She yawned, then snuggled in. “Hmm?”

“We're having a department dinner two Fridays from now at the conference hotel near campus. Faculty and staff mostly, but there will also be a few alumni and potential donors in attendance. I'd love it if you would be my date for the evening.”

She remained silent, trying not to tense up, but she did anyway. This was the first time that Kane had invited her to accompany him to a college event, and she couldn't help wondering what it meant.

“Are you sure you want me to go with you?”

This time he tensed. “I asked you. Pretty sure that means I want you to come with me.”

“I know you did, but you know me. I don't exactly fit in with a highbrow environment.” She turned in his arms, curling her hand into a fist on his chest. “I think Vanessa would be a better choice to go with you, especially if you need to be in fund-raising mode. She has lots of experience with this sort of thing.”

He loosened his hold on her and she immediately missed the contact. Then the lamp snapped on. She blinked against the brightness that clearly illuminated the irritation sparking in Kane's eyes.

“This party is for faculty and their significant others,” he explained. “I appreciate you wanting to rent out your friends and I'm sure Vanessa is a lovely woman, but are you seriously suggesting that she take your place? Are you honestly telling me that you want me to go with someone else—someone other than the woman I'm dating?”

“Kane.” She pressed against him, wanting to make sure he understood what she meant. “I'm a washed-up former reality television star and recovering drug addict. You shouldn't forget that.”

“How can I forget when you mention it every time we're together?” He sat up, irritation blossoming into anger. “Is that how you think I see you? Or is that how you want me to see you?”

“Not all the time, but you can't pretend that it isn't true.” She pushed herself upright, sitting up against the headboard. “It's what I am. I'm not being self-deprecating just for the fun of it, Kane. I am what I am. Part of my ongoing recovery is accepting that I'm an addict. I'm always going to be an addict. I'm just an addict who doesn't use anymore.”

He didn't like her talking about herself like that, she could tell by the way he frowned at her. She knew it sounded negative, as if she were constantly putting herself down. While she knew she had some hard-won good qualities, being fully aware of her limitations kept her feet firmly grounded in reality, and not the fake television kind.

Finally he shoved his fingers through his hair with a deep sigh. “I know it's a part of you, Nadia, and I think I understand why you describe yourself that way. I may not like it, but I'll accept it.”

She blew out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

“That's just one aspect of you, though. That's not the only thing you are. Remember, you're layered like a lotus flower. I want you to know the way I see you.” He clasped her hand in his. “I see a smart, successful businesswoman with an open, warm heart and a generous nature who is fiercely loyal to her friends and is taking steps to continue living her life as her best self. I should also mention that you're beautiful, sexy, creative, adventurous, and slightly bent.”

“Oh, Kaname.” Tears flooded her eyes. “Is that really how you see me?”

“It's how I've always seen you.”

Overcome, she threw her arms around his neck, hanging on to him as if she'd been lost at sea and he her lifeline. She'd been seen as many things over her life: a dutiful daughter, a bratty sister, a meal ticket. A drugged-out failure. No one had ever described her the way Kane had described her, not even the man she'd thought had loved her. “Kane, the way you see me . . . I'll treasure that. Always.”