A Savage Kinda Love Read online

  "I--?"

  "You had no problem being in there before I came back home tonight." He stepped so close to me that I could taste the heat from his tongue as it coated my own; he eyed me like helpless prey. "I won't take long; just wait for me, baby." He bent forward to kiss the corner of my mouth, his lips soft enough to light me on fire. My eyes closed; my chin dropped as my skin pricked. I gulped. "Wait for me, baby." He brought his hands up to my waist and squeezed before shuffling around me and spinning out of the room.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Waiting for the Sun

  Nikko's POV

  A warm shower that turned cold midway through was just what the fuck he needed to clear his mind and soften his cock. As the water poured into his hair and down the center of his back in a stream, he lifted his hands to the tiled wall, dipped his head even further beneath the faucet and swallowed hard enough to feel that shit all the way down to the tips of his goddamn toes.

  Christ, he was fucked up the ass with a lube-free pipe made from steel where this woman was concerned, more than he had originally thought.

  And he fuckin' liked it. Much more than he knew he should've under the circumstances given, and her insistence that they would never become more than what they were right now.

  After wagging his head like a wild dog and dipping his face back to allow water inside his mouth, he swished it around a few times and spit down the drain, then pushed himself to stand straight and turned off each knob. As the faucet dried up, he opened the door to release some growing steam and reached for a giant bath towel hanging from a railing above the back counter, opposite the sink. He wrapped it around his waist while stepping onto the self-heating floors and moved to the front mirror, wiping his hand across the fog before pulling back to swipe it across his growing beard and into his curls.

  "Fuck."

  He looked like an unkempt animal. Unsure of which kind, he lowered his eyes to the sink and chuckled.

  As the fog died down and the steam dissolved, he dried himself off as best as he could and brushed his teeth. After rewrapping the towel around his waist and shutting off the light to the bathroom, he headed back down to his bedroom, stopping at his door when he noticed Cheyenne sitting at the center of his bed.

  A warm smile crossed his lips; he leaned against the frame and dragged a hand across his chin. "You lost in here, baby?"

  "No. Not in the way I could be."

  "That shit means what, Cheyenne?"

  "Nothing." She pulled her legs up to her chest, resting her feet against the comforter and wrapped her arms around her knees. She looked straight ahead and jutted her chin. "The bed next door is not very comfortable. The middle of that mattress made me feel like I was about to fall through to the floor each time I rolled over. Your couches don't fair too well for sleeping either."

  "You tried 'em all out while I was in the shower?" She nodded. "Mm." She was full of shit and they both knew it.

  He didn't care.

  He moved inside the room and cleared his throat between chuckles, then stopped near his dresser as he noticed Rebecca's picture. He lifted his hand to the corner and glowered while remembering the last time he had seen her face: alive, flushed and in love with him. He tapped his fingers against the wood and peeked at Cheyenne over his shoulder; he clinched his teeth.

  She lowered her eyes to the small of his back and swallowed hard. "If I asked you something else personal," she started, "would you tell me the truth about it?"

  "Always, baby -- no goddamn reason to lie to you about anything, ever."

  "If she had still been here despite us meeting, or if we'd never met at all, would she be the one you would've chosen to marry instead? Given it's what she wanted from you that night."

  "No."

  "Really?" Her mouth dropped as she eyed him with confusion. "Why not?"

  He turned back to the picture as another laugh escaped him, and wagged his head. "You sound disappointed as fuck."

  "I'm not, just more curious about it than anything -- more confused. Because..." She shrugged. "Well, why not?" She lowered her legs back down to the bed and dropped her hands inside her lap. "If you were in love with her at some point--"

  "It wouldn't have changed no matter what she wanted from me, Cheyenne."

  "Why is that?"

  "'Cause she didn't know about me outside of the shit I told her; outside of whatever the fuck I allowed her to see when we were together... She knew about my old man and what he did; knew about his time being involved with your old man's club, but she never knew my part in helping Chino with the shit behind his casinos. And she never fuckin' knew about my mother, what happened to her or why -- me finding her. I didn't need her seeing me any differently than I knew she would've."

  "If she loved you, it wouldn't have mattered."

  "She loved an idea of me, baby."

  "Because it was all you were willing to give up to her."

  "It was all I could afford her to have." He opened the first drawer to his dresser and dropped the picture inside, then slammed it shut and sighed. "I don't have any fears of you seeing me for the motherfucker I am -- the goddamn truth... seeing me for the monster I can be."

  "You're not a monster, Nikko--"

  "I am." He faced her and folded his arms. "You're Beauty, baby. And I'm the goddamn Beast. You saw me on that court -- saw what the fuck I did -- what I can do. You still wanted to meet me to help out your old man -- help yourself... help me." He grinned. "I look into that face... sweetest fuckin' face I've seen since being alive and not a goddamn thing about me seems to scare you like I know it would've scared the hell outta her."

  "You scare the hell out of me too, Nikko," she replied, her voice low as barely a whisper traveled from between her lips. "Not in what you could do to someone in that same way on the court -- not anymore, but you do scare me immensely."

  "You wanna tell me how?"

  "I think you already know."

  "Yeah, baby. Maybe I do."

  He grunted as his eyes lowered to her sex. He exhaled and snaked his tongue across his lips, then dropped a hand to his towel and shuffled toward a basket full of freshly washed clothes.

  She sighed while watching him move, her chest fluttering as every muscle in his back and arms flexed between the colors of his tattoos, each one glistening beneath tiny drops of water still covering his skin. He was a truly beautiful human being inside and out, everything about him in spite of what he had done, what he was capable of doing to her or anyone else as time went on; even the ugliest parts of who she was certain he could be as a man beneath the surface of the one he was determined to become beyond himself and his father, were exceptionally beautiful enough to make her feel something for him she wasn't sure she should.

  Empathy.

  As he bent forward, his grip still tight around the towel, she sucked on her bottom lip, imagining the taste of him on her tongue. He could feel her eyes practically burning right through him, hard and focused on the insanely perfect shape of his ass through the cotton; had it not been for some form of restraint he managed to find within himself between the bathroom and now, he would've taken her where she sat and never let go.

  "What do the numbers on your back mean?" she asked him. "No one else at Rikers seemed to have them; are they personal to you?"

  "Nah, baby. To tell you the goddamn truth, I don't actually know what they mean."

  "You're being serious? How is that possible?"

  He straightened himself and turned back to her. "My old man had me branded after I was born."

  "Like cattle?" She jerked her head back and peered. "Why would he do something like that to you as a baby?"

  "'Cause he could? Said I needed each number to be known--"

  "As what? To who?"

  "Don't know. He's never given me much of an answer on that shit and I finally stopped asking over the years, realizing he never would." He stepped back to the dresser and dropped his hands on top, then peeked at her from the corner of his eye an
d arched his brow. "You sure about staying in here with me all night?"

  "Yes. Unless you've suddenly changed your mind?"

  "Not at all, baby, I wouldn't. Just need you to know I don't sleep in anything but myself."

  Paralyzing shock overtook her as she stared. "What?"

  "You heard me." His lips quirked as her eyes shifted to his towel. "I don't sleep in anything but myself, Cheyenne. No clothes."

  "I'm..." She rolled her attention to his curtains and parted her lips to exhale. "Maybe you should make an exception for them this time."

  "Is that what you want from me, baby? A goddamn exception?" He spun back around to her and reached for the edge of his towel. "You want me in clothes, I'll put 'em on for you right goddamn now; bundle up in a motherfuckin' sweater 'til the only thing you can see on me is my goddamn throat."

  "Would you?

  "Yeah, if it's what you really wanted from me. Is it?"

  She thought about his question for a few seconds before taking time to mutter a simple "No."

  "You're sure?"

  She bobbed her head before crawling beneath the blankets and falling to her back. He smirked while removing his towel, taking notice that her soft brown eyes never lost focus on his face despite the instant beam emerging from behind them; they were locked in, fearfully so, as if she was all too aware of the fact that she wouldn't know what the hell to do with herself, or him anymore, if they moved anywhere below his waist again.

  After flipping the switch to turn off the light, he tossed his towel into a hamper in the corner and crawled into bed next to her. She rested her arms on top of her stomach and stared at the ceiling. He turned aside and pressed his elbow into the mattress, then rested his chin inside his hand and stared down into her face.

  She closed her eyes and grinned. "What is it?"

  "Do you snore?" he questioned.

  She laughed aloud and rolled her eyes back to his. "What?"

  "Do you snore, baby?"

  "Not that I know of. I'm not sure -- do you?"

  "Depends on where I fall asleep, and who might be next to me at the time. If I'm comfortable enough, it could happen, but I'm not too loud about it."

  "I'm not either if I do."

  "Yeah?" He brought his other hand to her mouth and brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. Her jaw relaxed as she gulped. "What the fuck can you be loud about, baby?"

  "I..." She whirled away from him while attempting to suppress a smile and squeezed her eyes shut. "Let's just go to sleep," she grumbled.

  He chortled while watching her squirm against the sheets, then threw his hands behind his head and eyed the ceiling. "Alright."

  Chapter Nineteen

  A Dash of Sparkle

  When my eyes flew open, they landed directly on Nikko's face.

  "Morning, baby." He flashed a warm smile while staring down at me in much of the same way as he had the night before, his chin resting inside the palm of his hand as his elbow sank into the mattress above the pillow. I rolled to my back at some point during the night in knowing it was the only position tolerable enough to keep me from reaching out for him while sleeping. "You get enough rest?" he asked me. "Didn't hear you snoring much at all."

  I nodded and swiped a hand across my face, then pushed it back into my hair. "I don't think I heard you much either."

  "I didn't." He grinned again. "Couldn't get the kinda sleep I was hoping for."

  "Why not?"

  He shrugged. "Don't know. Stayed up watching you most of the night."

  "I bet that was a sight."

  "You're a good sleeper, baby." He snickered. "You don't move around a lot. Were you keeping in mind that I was still here?"

  "I don't know. Maybe. I didn't want to kick you out of bed or anything."

  "I'd have gotten right back in next to you; maybe kept you a little closer the second time around."

  I turned aside to capture the gleam in his eyes, still rich with honey, and reached for his face, cupping his cheek. "The swelling is starting to finally go down, have you noticed?"

  He shook his head against me and lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "Nah, baby, I haven't." My chest tightened as the sound of his voice rolled through me like a storm. I brushed my fingers across his skin, soaking in the vibration of his words. He inhaled a deeply painful breath, then lowered his face to mine and swallowed hard. "Goddamn."

  I pulled back from him and made a face. "What is it?"

  His eyes closed as he licked his lips. "You smell like this in the morning too?"

  "Like what?"

  "A motherfuckin' dream come to life for me, baby. Comm'ere." He slinked his arms around my waist and rolled me on top of him. I yelped as soon as my legs fell along either side of his waist; as I felt the hardness of his dick sliding against my sex and his hands moving inside my tank, his fingers curling against my spine. He groaned as I adjusted my lower half against him and lifted his head to inhale me once more. "Fuckin' shit, Cheyenne." I swallowed as the weight of him nearly forced my body to collapse on top of his, and draped my arms across his shoulders to remain steady. "Can't wait to have you like this for good. Without anything else between us like it is right now."

  "You mean my clothes?"

  "Yeah, baby, I mean that." He laughed. "But I can feel you're not wearing a bra underneath this tank. Thought so last night but couldn't be sure about it."

  "You can tell with me on top of you?"

  "Yeah."

  "What does it feel like?"

  "Good as shit; you're soft as fuck. Feel as if I need to know even more what you taste like." He brushed his nose along the tip of mine and dropped his head back to the pillow. He licked his lips again and dragged his hands down to my behind. I flinched and gnawed the inside of my cheek to keep from showing just how good his hands felt against all of me, how desperate I had become in wanting them inside my clothes, skin to skin. "You wearing anything beneath those leggings?" He squeezed my behind until I whimpered. "'Cause it sure as fuck doesn't feel like it--"

  "I am."

  "Yeah? Maybe I was hoping for something different. What color are you wearing this time?"

  "Pink."

  "Mm, like cotton candy or some shit?"

  An unexpected laugh escaped me as I jerked my shoulders; my eyes drifted as I shook my head and whispered, "I don't know."

  "You in the mood for letting me find out?" Before I could answer, he rolled me back to the bed, pressing my body against the mattress with his own, and planted himself between my legs. He stared into my face with a look worthy of setting the sun itself on fire and brushed my hair behind my neck. "You are beautiful as a goddamn sin, baby; fuckin' beautiful as hell. The devil himself wouldn't know what the hell to do with you."

  "I'm looking into his eyes as we speak."

  "So fuckin' sin with me, baby." He bent forward to flutter his tongue across my lips, tasting me for the first time, and dragged his hand past my throat, stopping at my breast. "Fuckin' sweet." I bent my head and whimpered again as his thumb brushed across my nipple, then brought my hand back to his face. "I wanna ask you something," he started. "Why'd you come to bed without wearing a bra?"

  "I don't know."

  "Yeah? I think the fuck you do...." He dropped both hands to my thighs and rocked himself against me. I winced as my sex swelled, as my nipples became hard enough to cut through stone and my eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head.

  "Nikko, please--"

  "Why'd you come to me like this last night, baby?"

  "Because I..." I stopped to catch my breath and gulped. "Just like you don't wear clothes, I don't wear bras to bed; they're restricting."

  "You never thought of throwing one on before climbing in here with me?"

  "I thought we'd be able to control ourselves; we did for the most part--"

  "Fuckin' barely, Cheyenne. Just fuckin' barely, baby." He lowered his mouth to the side of my throat and kissed my pulse. "You like teasing the fuck outta me -- I fuckin' know it." He
dragged a hand across my waist and stomach, then crawled his fingers to the rim of my leggings, flicking the fabric to feel for my panties underneath.

  "I'm not teasing you," I said, throwing my head aside as a rush of heat burned the inside of my cheeks. His words triggered something deep within me as I tightened my stomach and looked to his curtains; the hope of keeping myself even somewhat sane in his presence was fading by the second.

  "You are swollen as fuck, soft and ready for me; nipples high and fuckin' hard -- ready for my tongue."

  "Nikko--"

  "You are fuckin' aroused for me, baby, I can feel that shit. My cock can fuckin' feel it against you... can feel you wanting a taste of what it'd be like..." He lowered his face to my stomach and lifted my tank.

  "What are you doing--?" I breathed.

  "Shh, baby." He pressed his mouth against my skin, then parted his lips to circle my belly button with the tip of his tongue.

  "Oh my God." He felt like silk. My hand dropped to the top of his head as he tugged at either side of my leggings and planted kisses along every inch of my waist.

  "You deserve a motherfucker willing to give you every goddamn thing you're gonna need from him, Cheyenne. From now 'til the motherfuckin' end."

  "And that would be you?"

  He lifted his head to stare me in the face again, and nodded. "Yeah, baby, it is."

  I hesitated before sliding my fingers beneath his chin while muttering, "Show me how much?"

  His brows arched as a smirk quirked his lips. "That's what you want from me--?"

  "Yes." I rolled my tongue across my lips as his smirk widened, realizing I no longer knew what the hell I was saying or doing when it came to us anymore -- when it came to him, but understanding for the moment and quite possibly beyond it that I didn't care.

  "Goddamn, baby." He crawled his way back up my body and lowered his hand to my throat, his fingers loose as he pressed them against my skin. He dragged his thumb across my chin and lowered my mouth, exposing my tongue, then bent forward with an attempt to kiss me, only stopping at the sound of the doorbell just before reaching my lips with his own. "God. Fuckin'. Damn." His head dropped as he removed his hand and lowered it back down to the bed.