From This Moment On: The Sullivans, Book 2 (Contemporary Romance) Page 2

  At least if she’d ever had anything approaching real pleasure, maybe she wouldn’t be so bitter about her reputation. Maybe then she could just own it. Maybe then she would actually feel like the sexy woman she portrayed on her album covers and music videos. Maybe then she wouldn’t have made her choreographer, Lori, stay so long with her tonight, long past when she should have let the woman leave for her brother’s engagement party.

  All of a sudden, a crazy impulse hit her square in her solar plexus: since she was never going to shake off her reputation, what if she went out to earn it instead?

  Nicola had always been impulsive, from the time she was a little girl. Her report cards said the same thing, year after year: “Nicola is a bright girl, but she often acts without thinking.”

  Okay, she thought as she tossed various articles of clothing onto the bed and tried to figure out just the right look for what she wanted to accomplish tonight, so she’d learned her lesson about trusting jerks. And, of course, one day she wanted love. Real love. True love.

  But she was tired of living like a nun, sick of trying to constantly convince everyone that she wasn’t a wild party girl, when they all thought she was anyway.

  For just one night she wanted to know what all the fuss was about. She wanted to find a man to share her passions with, a real man who was experienced enough to take her to a place she’d never been before.

  Her heart beat hard as she stripped off her sweatpants and tank top and slipped into a short, strapless leather dress. One wrong move in any direction and the T&A she was so famous for would be popping out for the entire world to see.

  But, suddenly, Nicola didn’t care anymore. Anything was better than this bone-deep loneliness.

  So she’d end up on the cover of another tabloid magazine. Big whoop. It wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before. And she’d survived.

  Mostly, anyway.

  Chapter Two

  Marcus was known for his patience. After helping to raise his seven siblings, he’d learned to wait out tantrums, fistfights, even tears.

  Tonight, he was all out of patience.

  He’d been watching the dancers for long enough to know that he wasn’t going to take a single one of them to bed. None of the women who’d walked in through the thick red curtain in the past thirty minutes had been contenders, either.

  Until, suddenly, the curtain parted…and she walked in.

  Marcus felt like a fist had slammed straight into his gut.

  The woman was young, mid-twenties probably, and so damn beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. Her black leather dress left nothing to his imagination, fitting her like a second skin with wide cut-outs that ran down the side of her insane curves.

  She was the one.

  As she stood in the doorway and slowly scanned the crowd, every eye in the room was on her. She was magnetic, had that special something that made it impossible to pull your eyes away from her.

  And then her eyes met his, illuminated by a beam of light in the dark room, and although Marcus hadn’t drunk nearly enough at Chase’s engagement party to be unsteady on his feet, one look at those clear blue eyes had him fighting for balance.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  He needed to remember, at all times, what tonight was about. Sex. Pleasure. Not emotion. Not a relationship. It was okay for certain parts of his body below the waist to react like a match had been lit from nothing more than looking at the woman. Everything else was off-limits. He wasn’t looking for a woman to respect.

  And he sure as hell wasn’t going to fall in love.

  Marcus let his gaze move back down the woman’s barely-there leather dress. It didn’t look like respect was going to be much of an issue.

  The dangerous curves began to shift beneath the thin layer of leather and he realized she was moving. Straight toward him, never once breaking stride, even in impossibly high heels.

  Marcus lifted his eyes from her made-for-sex body and couldn’t miss the challenge in her gaze, a look that asked if he was man enough to handle her.

  He’d come here tonight to find a woman, to proposition her, to claim her for one no-holds-barred night. Looked like he was the one who was about to be propositioned, instead.

  He’d always liked his women tall and slim, not barely coming up to his chest like this one. A voice in his head told him she was way too young for him, young enough that if this were any other night, he’d walk away from her now. Hell, if things had gone as he’d planned for the past two years, he wouldn’t even be here.

  But he was.

  And he wasn’t planning on walking away from whatever this woman offered. Not until first light.

  Definitely not until he’d had his fill of those curves.

  * * *

  My God, he was beautiful.

  Talk about big and strong—if this guy’s broad shoulders and gorgeous face weren’t enough, he stood out from the rest of the scummy crowd in his pressed shirt and slacks, clearly not giving a damn that he was different from them all.

  He was the one.

  The hassle of getting inside with all of the people clamoring to take pictures and have her sign autographs for them had almost been enough to make her hop back into the taxi and go hide out in her hotel again. What had she been thinking, coming out to a club to find a man? Especially when she knew darn well that pictures of her and the guy would surface on the Internet within hours.

  But she hadn’t known where else to look, hadn’t been able to think of anywhere else to go. And she just didn’t care about the price of fame tonight, about the inevitable ramifications of what she was doing. Not when a long, lonely night was all that waited for her in her hotel suite if she turned tail and ran.

  Beyond thankful that she hadn’t chickened out at the last second, Nicola was practically licking her lips as she approached him.

  It was pure instinct to try and make herself look more attractive to him. She’d pushed out her breasts, swayed her hips that extra little bit. Yes, she often silently bemoaned having to use her sexuality to get things out of people, but darn it, when it worked this well, what was a girl to do?

  And she really wanted tonight to work out. Especially now that she’d finally seen a man she absolutely had to have.

  She waited for him to say her name, for that flicker of recognition to rise in his eyes. But when neither happened after several long seconds, it finally occurred to her that he might not know who she was.

  Or, she thought with the cynicism that had taken root deep within her, maybe he was just faking it because he thought it would pique her interest in him if he seemed aloof.

  “Hi, I’m Nicola.” Her real name popped out before she realized it. She hadn’t gone by anything but Nico for so long with anyone but her parents that the name felt strange on her tongue.

  Kind of good, too, though.

  She waited for him to correct her, to be surprised that she hadn’t introduced herself as Nico. Instead, he simply repeated her name.

  “Nicola."

  His low, rough voice had her shivering, thrill bumps actually rising on her arms despite the swampy heat of the club from all the moving bodies.

  She studied him for long enough to confirm that there wasn’t a shred of awareness in his dark brown eyes. Nothing at all that resembled the way the guy at the hotel had looked at her, like he was dying to say he’d done a big star.

  Had she actually run into the one person on earth who had no idea who she was?

  It felt too lucky to be true.

  Of course, her luck would only hold out so long in a public place. From the moment she’d walked in, everyone’s eyes had been on her—and now the two of them. Normally, she wouldn’t care. She was used to staring.

  But she suddenly wanted more than just a night of hot sex with a gorgeous guy.

  She wanted to experience it as Nicola. Not Nico. Which meant she needed to get them out of there as soon as possible, before anyone came up and asked for an autograph or a picture
with her.

  “I’m not in the mood to dance tonight,” she began, before realizing, “I don’t know your name."

  She liked the way he reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, liked it even more when he said, “My name is Marcus. And I’m not in the mood to dance, either.”

  She supposed there were lots of things they could both say to each other. Things like, Should we get out of here? or Why don’t we go back to my hotel? But, amazingly, Nicola realized those words, those questions and answers, weren’t necessary.

  Everything they’d needed to say to each other had already been said.

  In one look.

  In one touch.

  Her skin burned where he’d touched her, his fingertips rougher than she’d thought they would be, given his clothes. She’d felt calluses and strength in that one brush across her skin. The thought of being touched like that—with those hands—on even more sensitive parts of her body had heat blooming inside of her in places that never usually got that hot.

  Following the instinct that had brought her this far, Nicola turned without another word and began to move back to the door through which she’d just entered. A moment later, Marcus’s large, warm hand was on the small of her back as he followed her. She often traveled to events with her bodyguard, a man who was even bigger than Marcus. But she’d never felt so safe, so protected.

  And never this tingly, head to toe.

  The sizzling warmth from the spot on her lower back where he was holding his hand against her quickly spread down her hips and across to her stomach and breasts.

  The music was still playing, louder than before, perhaps, but all she could hear was the beating of her own heart. All she knew was that she wanted this night with Marcus more than she’d wanted anything in a very long time.

  In the back of her mind she knew that what she was doing was stupid, not just because of the pictures that would surface of her with a “mystery man,” but because she shouldn’t be leaving a club with a man she knew nothing whatsoever about. For all she knew, he was a sadistic murderer out trolling for his next decapitation victim. But the way he was touching her, so carefully and yet with such assurance—along with the way he’d gently stroked her face—made her want to trust her initial instincts about him.

  Fortunately, just as a group of people started pointing at her and talking excitedly, a taxi pulled up. Marcus opened the door for her and she let her hair fall in front of her face to hide her profile from the driver, just in case he took one look at her and blew her cover as a regular person.

  Her gut churned as she slid inside, then tightened down hard as her soon-to-be-lover joined her on the ripped leather seat and she realized just how big he really was. Compared to most of the anorexic singers and actresses she knew, Nicola had never felt tiny before. But sitting next to Marcus made her feel shockingly small and feminine.

  He was so big, had so much presence, she swore there wasn’t enough oxygen left in the car for her and the driver to pull from.

  “Where to?” the driver asked, giving them a blank look in the rearview mirror.

  The stranger’s voice broke the spell that had pulled her toward Marcus from that first glance.

  Oh God, what she was doing?

  Yes, she wanted him. Desperately.

  Yes, she was lonely. Terribly.

  But neither of those things were enough reason to act like an idiot or to put herself in a dangerous position. After all, look what had happened when she’d trusted her instincts with Kenny. What he’d done hadn’t only hurt her, it had ended up hurting her family, too. She could still hardly believe her mother had lost her position on the school board, that the community had dared to accuse her of not being a good role model for the other parents because she’d obviously made huge mistakes in teaching her own daughter right from wrong.

  Nicola put her hand on the door handle, readying herself to escape out the other side. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I don’t know you."

  He didn’t try to stop her, didn’t put a hand on her to keep her from opening the door. Instead, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to her.

  “Call anyone in here."

  Unable to believe what he was offering, she left the door ajar an inch. “Seriously?”

  “Call them all if you have to. Ask them about me. Ask them anything.”

  Surely he was kidding around. Who did something like this? Just handed over their cell phone and said to call any number on it to do a background check on him?

  “You really want me to surprise dial someone in your address book and say, ‘Hey there, I’m some girl your friend Marcus is leaving a club with. Could you tell me all about him, please?’”

  “I want you to feel safe with me tonight, Nicola."

  God, every time he said her name, she got the shivers. What would it be like to be lying beneath him, naked and filled with him while he said it?

  Oh, how she wanted to find out.

  The taxi driver cleared his throat and looked pointedly at them in his rearview mirror, but Marcus clearly had no intention of being rushed.

  Before she could reconsider, she took the phone and dialed the most recently called person, someone named Mary. It was probably his wife, Nicola thought cynically as the number rang a handful of times.

  After several rings, a woman picked up. “Marcus, I wish you hadn’t left the party without saying goodbye.”

  Surprised at a voice that clearly belonged to an older woman rather than a lover waiting for Marcus to come over and do her later tonight, Nicola finally said, “Um...hi. This isn’t Marcus. He—”

  She felt like an idiot sitting in the back of a cab trying to find the right words to say to a complete stranger. All while Marcus watched her with those dark eyes.

  “He just gave me his phone and said I could call you.”

  There was a brief moment of silence before the woman she’d just dialed said, “Is my son all right?”

  His mother? That was the last person he’d called before coming to the club?

  Nicola was stunned silent for a moment, before realizing she needed to reassure his mother. “Yes, he’s fine. Perfectly fine.”

  Marcus was leaning back against the seat, his arms folded across his chest as he watched her fumble through this unexpected conversation.

  All these years, she’d never met anyone else who spoke with their parents as much as she did. Especially not a man, probably because they thought it made them seem less masculine.

  Nicola found herself reacting in exactly the opposite way. A man who loved his mother won a lot of points in her book, and instead of seeing Marcus as less sexy, or as some kind of mama’s boy, a glimmer of respect began to form for the beautiful stranger sitting beside her.

  “Good,” his mother said with obvious relief. “I’m glad he’s fine.”

  Nicola knew she should simply apologize for bothering the woman and disconnect. Instead, she found herself saying, “Mary, can I ask you a question about your son?”

  She could have sworn she heard a smile across the line from this ridiculously patient woman who, for all Nicola knew, got calls like this every Friday night from the girls Marcus picked up to fool around with.

  “Yes, you may, although I’d very much like to know who I’m speaking with.”

  “Oh. Sorry. My name is Nicola.” For the second time in one night, she was getting to be the girl she used to be, rather than the pop star she’d been playing for the past several years.

  “Nicola is a lovely name.”

  “Thank you.” Nicola tried to regain her bearings, but it was really difficult to do with Marcus looking down at her with his eyes never once leaving her face.

  “What would you like to know about Marcus, Nicola?”

  Oh God, she shouldn’t be asking his mother a question like this, but if she hung up now she’d only be left with doubts. Doubts she didn’t want to have if she and Marcus were going to be alone together and naked in a hotel
room in a little while.

  She looked up into his eyes and held his dark gaze as she said, “Will I be safe with him?”

  “Oh,” his mother said, “well, that’s certainly an unexpected question.”

  Nicola could feel her hand trembling slightly as she held the phone up against her ear. “Why is that a strange question?”

  “Marcus is my oldest son,” his mother gently explained. “He helped me take care of his brothers and sisters when my husband passed away many years ago. I love all of my children, but without a doubt, he is one of the most trustworthy men I’ve ever known.”

  Nicola’s heart shouldn’t have swelled at his mother’s words. She shouldn’t have cared that the man sitting next to her was a good son, a good older brother. All that should have mattered was that she was physically safe with him and that he wouldn’t dare hurt her now that she’d spoken with his mother and alerted her to what was about to go down.

  And yet, she couldn’t manage to pull her gaze away from his—or stop herself from feeling any of those things—as she said, “Thank you for telling me that.”

  “It was my pleasure, Nicola.”

  “I’m sorry I bothered you so late,” she said suddenly, hating that she’d worried his mother with her out-of-the-blue call.

  “It’s no problem at all, although I would love to speak with Marcus for a moment.”

  “I’ll give him the phone right now, Mary. And thank you.” Nicola held the phone out, hardly able to believe she was saying, “Your mother wants to speak with you.”

  This night wasn’t going at all the way she’d thought it would. Well, the meeting a ridiculously gorgeous guy in a club part was right on track, but talking to his mom to be reassured that she wasn’t going to end the night in a body bag...that just didn’t happen in her world. In anyone’s world, actually.