Cocktails & Dreams (15 page)

“You feel so good,” he muttered, trying to stay in control, to make it satisfying for her. Jena placed her hands on his cheeks, and kissed him deeply, wrapping one leg around his waist and the other around his thigh. The tiny bit of self-control Nicholas had left quickly departed as the slavering horde of hormones escaped their prison, giving a victory screech. Jena trailed her mouth over Nick’s jaw and neck, licking and nibbling as he started to move slowly inside her, not wanting it to be over too soon, even though he felt the pressure building in his belly already.

Jena rocked below him, moaning as their rhythm increased. Finally, she whispered, “I want to feel you come, Nicholas.” Just hearing her say that made it inevitable, and her clenching muscles and her moans assured Nicholas that she followed. She buried her head in the crook of his neck until her cries got softer and her shudders abated.

Nicholas started to shift to the side, afraid he was crushing her, and she clutched his back, murmuring, “Just…just wait for a minute. I like to feel you on me.”

He smiled, resting his forehead against her shoulder until she was still, and then he shifted, pulling Jena against his side as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” Nick whispered, brushing hair off of her face and dropping kisses on her eyelids.

Already mostly asleep, she kissed his neck and laid a hand on his chest. “My pleasure, Hot Bod,” she murmured. “Really.”

Nicholas felt his own eyes closing, but he chuckled as Jena softly began to hum “Happy Birthday” as she fell asleep.

Nicholas woke the next morning to the feeling of fingers running gently through his hair. Jena smiled as he cracked an eye open, tightening his arm where it lay across her waist. Her face was puffy from sleep, and her hair was wild around them…and she was the most beautiful thing Nick had ever seen. Three words he’d never said before swirled around in his brain, and he was startled. It was too soon to think that he was feeling that.
Way
too soon. Jena stroked his scruffy cheek, her eyes soft, and he decided lighten the mood.

“You’re still here!” Nicholas rasped jokingly.

“I didn’t leave last time,” she protested, tracing his lips with a fingertip.

Nicholas grabbed her hand and softly bit her finger before nestling it on his chest. “No, but you were all the way across the room when I woke up, not where I could do this.” He trailed his fingers over her thigh and hip, leaning over her so he could kiss her and feel the soft press of her breasts against his chest.

Jena ran her hands into his hair and wrapped one leg around his hip just as a crash sounded in the kitchen.

Nicholas froze, startled, when a male voice squawked. “Sorry, Jen,” Luke yelled, his voice filled with laughter. “Travis let me use his bed. I’ll leave the pancakes in the oven while I shower. Carry on, people.”

Nicholas rolled away from Jena and off the bed, yanking on his jeans and pulling on his shirt. “Get dressed.”

She sat up, tugging the sheet with her and looking confused. “But…I thought…”

Leaning over, Nicholas held her chin and kissed her roughly. “Oh, I have every intention of kissing every inch of you this morning. Just not with an audience.” He grimaced. “Conor owes me a few hundred disappearing acts, and we have a few hours until my parents are due back from their trip. If you want to come with me, of course.”

Jena grinned and slid off the side of the bed, grabbing a pair of sweats from the chair in the corner and quickly adding a bra and a T-shirt from her drawer.

Nicholas snapped his phone open, dialing Conor’s cell as Jena sat down to slip on some shoes. He cut Conor off mid-greeting. “Conor, I need you to vacate the premises for the day, and I don’t want any arguments. Go destroy the latest boink’s apartment, or some public venue.”

“Yeah, but Nicholas—”

Nick cut him off again. “I’ve done this for you a hundred times. All I ask is a few hours of peace. It’s the least you can do after abandoning me without transportation last night.”

“I’m sure you got a ride…or two.” Conor chortled at his own humor.

“Conor, get the fuck out before Jena and I get there.”

“Nicky, you should really—”

Jena was watching with questioning eyes as Nicholas muttered into the phone. “Conor, I swear to God—”

“Shit! You win! Bring your sweetie here right away.” Conor sounded like he was restraining laughter as he hung up.

Jena twined her fingers with Nick’s as they walked to her Jeep. They kept casting sideways glances at each other during the drive to his apartment, then looking away to chuckle. By the time the Jeep was parked in the garage of Nicholas’s apartment, he couldn’t wait any longer to touch her, pressing her against the side of the car and running his hands over her body.

“Jesus, get a room, people.” Conor laughed as he passed them to climb into his truck. He looked quite snazzy for a lazy Sunday morning. “Oh, wait—you
have
a room upstairs, in the apartment you kicked me out of.” He fired the ignition.

“Where you going, all dressed up? I might have a coronary if you say church.” Nick said, half-jokingly.

“Brunch with Sam.” Conor shrugged at Nick’s raised eyebrow. “She’s in town and didn’t want to brave the parentals alone.” He grinned and added cryptically, “Besides, I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Have fun.” His laughter disappeared as the truck pulled away.

“C’mere, woman,” Nicholas rumbled, tugging Jena through the garage door, and pulling her up the stairs. They were laughing against each other’s lips as Nick finally fumbled his apartment door open. “Bedroom. Now,” he growled, backing into the apartment, hands cupping Jena’s behind.

Nicholas stumbled to a stop when he heard someone clear their throat behind him.

“Good morning, son. I assume it’s good, anyway.” Jena froze as Nicholas let her slide down his front before turning to look at his father, who was trying to marshal his expression into any shape but the grin that was overtaking his face. “Your mother is in the powder room, so I suggest you compose yourself before she gets out here.” He cast a pointed glance at Nick’s jeans, and Jena put a hand over her eyes.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered, and headed for the door.

B
LINDLY
S
TUMBLING
T
OWARD
T
HE
S
TAIRWELL
, Jena made it almost all the way down the first flight before she heard Nicholas calling behind her.

“Jena! Wait!”

“I’ll call you later, Nicholas,” she tossed over her shoulder, increasing her speed. Second flight—one to go and she would be in her car driving somewhere. Anywhere.

She started to giggle as she swiped a tear from the corner of her eye. This had been the most confusing twelve-hour rollercoaster ride of her life, and she could feel hysteria just around the corner. Between the boring beginning that was Leisa’s party and the jerking full stop of dry-humping in front of Nicholas’s father, Jena had been yanked up and dropped down emotionally, and enjoyed the full loop-the-loop that was being with Nicholas last night, and she was finished. The only thing left to do was barf, and the full carnival experience would be complete.

“Damn it, Jena…will you just stop for a minute?” Nicholas’s voice was echoing down the stairs, and Jena could hear his rapid footsteps, but she was going to make it to her car before he caught up. She hoped that between Nicholas having to deal with his parents at least briefly before dashing out the door and having the running impediment in his jeans, she could make a clean getaway. The next part of her plan was not as clear, but it involved lots of alcohol.

She reached the door leading to the garage and looked back, glad that Nick hadn’t appeared yet. As she dashed through the doorway, it felt like she slammed into a brick wall. Strong hands grasped her upper arms as she staggered backward.

“For someone who was in such a damned hurry to get upstairs, you sure are leaving fast.” Conor’s bass chuckle echoed in the empty stairwell. “I always suspected Dickolas was a sixty-second man.”

“Conor, shut the hell up.” Samantha came around Conor and wrapped her arm around Jena’s shoulders. “Are you all right?”

Jena looked up at Conor’s grinning face and saw red. “You stupid bastard,” she sputtered. Before she knew she was going to do it, her fist shot out and caught him in the right eye.

A string of expletives flew from Conor’s mouth as he slapped a hand over the offended eye. Jena stepped back warily, cradling her fist, and suddenly remembering Conor was about a foot and a half taller than her and outweighed her by at least fifty pounds.

Conor stomped his foot a couple of times, then finally looked at Jena with a watering and rapidly purpling eye. “I’m sorry, okay? It seemed funny at the time, that’s all.” He touched his fingers lightly at the corner of his eye and hissed through his teeth. “You didn’t have to hit me. Christ, you women are violent,” he muttered.

Jena nodded and opened her mouth to answer just as Nicholas leapt down the last few stairs. Spotting Conor, Nick stepped toward him, muttering threats. Samantha stepped smoothly between them.

“A suitable ass-kicking has already been administered, Nicholas, by sweet Jena, here.” Sam smiled as Nick looked from Jena to Conor in astonishment.

“Nicholas? Is everything all right?” A woman’s anxious voice floated down the stairs.

Nicholas and Conor glared at each other. “On our way up, Mom,” Nick called.

Jena felt his hand on her back, and she paused to lean into it briefly. She closed her eyes, steeling herself.
It’s okay, Jena
, she pep talked
. You are twenty-five, not fifteen, and it’s okay to be in your boyfriend’s apartment.
It will never get any easier so you might as well balls it out.
Taking a deep breath, Jena looped her arm through Sam’s and continued up the stairs, trying to justify groping said boyfriend in front of his father, but her powers of rationalization couldn’t quite stretch that far.

An anxious-looking woman in a beautifully tailored, soft gray suit met them at the door. Even if Jena weren’t meeting her in Nicholas’s apartment, she would have known that the woman was his mother. Deep black hair was swept back with a simple hair band, and twins of the almond-shaped, long-lashed, deep blue eyes that had looked up at Jena this morning were set in the woman’s face. The feminine version of Nicholas’s lips curved into a smile as his mother put an arm around Nicholas’s waist, holding up her cheek to be kissed.

Glancing around at the group as her son obliged, her eyes stopped on Conor. “My word, Conor. What in the world happened to your eye?”

Conor grinned, turning on the full charm. “That is a very long and boring story, Mrs. Cooper. If you’ll excuse me for a moment…” Conor patted her on the back as he brushed past her to go toward the hall, and she giggled. Nicholas rolled his eyes.

“Mom…Dad…You’ve met Samantha Call, I believe.” All three nodded, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. Nicholas pulled Jena out from behind Sam, where Jena was, admittedly, hiding and wrapped his arm around her. “This is Jena Baker, Mom. Jena, these are my parents, William and Laura Cooper.”

Mrs. Cooper stepped forward with a smile and an outstretched hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you, finally, Jena. Nicholas has told me so much about you.” Jena shook her hand then looked over her shoulder at Nicholas, who smiled and shrugged.

Dr. Cooper shook Jena’s hand next. It was clear where Nicholas had gotten his high cheekbones and defined jaw line, but Dr. Cooper’s eyes were ice blue and the blond of his hair blended almost perfectly with the white that crept along his temples. He turned to Nicholas. “I apologize for showing up unexpectedly, son.” His eyes flicked to Jena with silent humor, and she willed herself not to blush. Nicholas’s arm tightened around her waist, anticipating a repeat of her earlier dash out the door. “Mrs. Call tired of touring and wanted to come home early.” Jena heard Samantha snort behind her. “The Calls have invited us to brunch at their club, and we thought you might join us. Jena is invited, as well, of course.”

Mentally comparing her sweats-and-tee combo to the nice outfits the others wore, Jena smiled. “I’m really not dressed approp—” Her phone chimed, and a quick glance at the caller ID made her groan internally. “This is my mother. Please excuse me.”

Stepping away from the group in the living room, Jena gingerly opened her phone, knowing what she was facing. Sharon did not disappoint. Jena had to hold the phone away from her head to protect her ears from Sharon’s extremely loud and off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday.” Knowing better than to try to interrupt her mother, Jena hurried into the kitchen as everyone turned to look at her and her noisy-ass phone.

“Happy birthday, my angel,” Sharon gushed. “I can’t believe my baby is a quarter of a century old. It seems like just yesterday that you were a beautiful little girl in your daddy’s arms. I remember—”

Jena interrupted her mother’s soliloquy; she’d heard almost the exact same words every birthday for as long as she could remember. “Mom, can I call you back later? I was talking to Dr. Cooper—crap.” Jena whapped herself in the head for mentioning a name. Her mother would have it Googled two minutes after hanging up.

Sharon was shocked at the interruption; she’d never been stopped in her walk down memory lane before. “Is everything okay, Jena? Are you all right? Why are you talking to a doctor?” Her voice was rising.

Trust Mom to jump from blissful happiness to abject fear for her daughter’s safety in the space of a sentence
.

Jena shushed her. “Mom, I’m okay. I’m just meeting Nicholas’s parents, all right?” She knocked her head repeatedly on the fridge, cursing the fact that Sharon now had a full name to work with.

Sharon shrieked so loudly Jena almost dropped the phone. Nicholas poked his head in the kitchen with a questioning look, and Jena waved him off. He leaned against the counter, smiling and shaking his head, and Jena knew he could hear everything.

“Rob! His name is Nicholas, and his father is a
doctor!”

Jena heard her dad chuckle in the background and call out, “What’s his golf handicap?”

“Oh hush, Rob,” Jena’s mother scolded. “Jena, tell me everything. Is he cute? How did you meet him? Is this the phone-sex guy?”

Nicholas burst into quiet laughter, and Jena turned her back on him. “Mom! I’ll call you later, okay? I’m being very rude right now.”

“Oh, of course, sweetie.” Jena heard the clacking of a keyboard. Shit, her mother wasn’t even going to wait until the call was over. “Have fun and call me later.” She abruptly hung up, and Jena snapped her phone closed, still looking out the kitchen window.

Nicholas wrapped his arms around her, snuggling her body within the curve of his own, and kissed her neck. “So,
am
I the ‘phone-sex guy’?” he asked.

Jena laughed and relaxed against him. “That is a long and humiliating story that I hope to never think about again. And, yes, you are the ‘phone-sex guy.’”

“Son?” Dr. Cooper’s voice was amused, and Jena knew he’d caught at least the end of her comment. Of course. “We’re supposed to meet the Calls in half an hour.”

Jena turned to him with a genuine smile. Apparently, her embarrassment threshold was reached and now she could relax. How much worse could it get? “Well, then, I guess your son had better get a move on,” Jena said, reaching up to kiss Nicholas on the cheek. “I’m sorry about the call. My mother is a little enthusiastic about birthdays. Call me later, okay?”

“It’s your birthday, Jena? You really must come with us, then. No one should be alone on their birthday.” Mrs. Cooper had entered the kitchen and slid her hand around her husband’s arm, giving him a look of encouragement and flicking her eyes toward Jena when he looked down at her.

“Oh…yes. Please allow us to take you to brunch, Jena,” he said.

Jena gestured at her clothes, chuckling. “I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion, but thank—”

“I’m sure we can find something.” Samantha was lounging in the doorway with her arms crossed. “I left a few things here last time I stayed over.” She ignored Mrs. Cooper’s slightly raised eyebrow. “Come on, Jen.”

Nicholas smiled at Jena encouragingly, and she reluctantly followed Sam toward Conor’s room.

“Why, Sam? Why couldn’t you let me escape?” she whined as the door closed.

Sam was sifting rapidly through a drawer in Conor’s dresser, and tossed Jena a dark blue skirt and a white cardigan. “If I have to go to country-club hell, I’m not going alone,” Sam said, eyeing Jena’s light blue T-shirt critically. “At least you wore a decent shirt. See you out there.”

Jena hurried into the borrowed clothes, thanking God that the much taller Sam favored ass-skimming skirts, which made the one Jena now wore the right length on her. She dug through her jacket pocket for the brush that, since New Year’s, she’d gotten in the habit of carrying and got to work on her tangled hair, pulling a brush through it roughly and binding it into a neat ponytail with a stray rubber band from the desktop. She tried to ignore the voices in the other room, clinging to the thought that she just had to get through brunch before she and Captain Morgan could become intimately acquainted once again. Shoving her feet into her Keds with a grimace, she made a quick inspection in Conor’s mirror. She’d do.

Nicholas smiled, eyes soft, and held his hand out when she re-entered the living room. He had changed while Jena was cleaning up. “Ready?” he asked.

She nodded and took his hand gratefully, feeling more able to deal with the whole situation with his hand enfolding hers.

Jena fought the urge to twist her hands together as the car pulled into the semi-circular drive of the country club and Nicholas helped her from the car, glaring at the valet who smiled appreciatively at her legs. This was so far beyond Jena’s experience that she would have laughed if she weren’t trying so hard not to throw up from nerves. Conor’s raised eyebrows as he glanced pointedly around the opulent lobby and the tiny gagging face he made when he caught Jena’s eye helped her relax in the realization that at least she wasn’t the only one who was new to this.

“Will! Over here.”

A voice from a table near the east windows caught Dr. Cooper’s attention, and the group headed that way. Standing up from the table was one of the most beautiful men Jena had ever seen, and she chuckled as she noticed feminine eyes all over the room flicking admiring glances in that direction. Noah Call’s perfect build, golden hair, and summer afternoon blue eyes were known campus-wide for their fantasy-inducing charms. No one Jena knew was immune to him, that was for damned sure. Even catching a glimpse of Dr. Call had made her day for several years now, and she had to quickly look down to avoid catching the heat of Samantha’s general glare around the room.

Must not eyeball hot doctor boss while boyfriend and his parents are right freaking here,
Jena reminded herself, barely restraining a giggle. Nicholas gave her a questioning look as they all took their seats, and Jena shook her head slightly, biting her lip to keep the laughter in.

Mrs. Call seemed unconcerned about all the attention her husband was garnering, although Jena supposed she must have gotten used to it over the years. Instead, she was staring at Conor, one blond eyebrow raised into her matching fringe. “Conor, did my daughter give you that black eye?”

Samantha snorted, still staring down the women in the room. “Nice, Mom. Why do you assume it was me?” Sam glanced at Jena, who pleaded with her eyes not to be ratted out.

Dr. Cooper had introduced Jena to Dr. and Mrs. Call as they sat, and now Dr. Call’s eyes were trained on Jena as the breakfast the Calls had ordered was served. “Jena Baker…aren’t you a physical therapist in sports medicine? It seems like I’ve seen that name on a few charts that have come across my desk.”

Jena nodded and tried to swallow quickly, but the bite of toast in her mouth wasn’t cooperating. She took a sip of water and finally managed a choked “Yes, sir.”
Very smooth, Baker.

“You do good work, Jena…may I call you that?” She smiled and nodded, and Dr. Call smiled back, not knowing what horrifyingly explicit thoughts she was caging at that moment. “Your partner in crime—Walker, right?—could use a little work on his penmanship, though.” He laughed, and Jena imagined baby angels floating around the room, just to listen. “The difference on Nicholas’s chart between your writing and his was astounding.”