The Darkness Within Him: The Untwisted series Page 4

  Even more distractingly, now I was in Nicholas’ house, sitting at his piano, I found my mind kept wandering back to my fantasy about the rude things he might do to me over it. Puffing out a flustered breath, I felt my skin heat at the images that had taken root in my dreams since meeting him three days ago.

  Maybe lessons with Nicholas weren’t such a good idea after all, I thought, shifting awkwardly in my seat.

  Luckily, I was proved wrong and the lesson went well. Nicholas was brisk with his instructions as I had expected, but clear and precise with his advice and, surprisingly, I could hear the improvement in my playing within the hour. Sitting back, I smiled at my much-improved version of Imagine, but upon seeing his gaze on me, I looked away in embarrassment.

  ‘Don’t drop your eyes,’ he instructed quietly, and for some reason, even though I felt totally mortified by my body’s ridiculous response to him, I found myself looking back. Nicholas’ eyes were bright and burning into me, and I just knew my cheeks were going to flush again. Seconds later, they did; in fact, my face felt like it was on fire and I dropped my gaze again and pushed my hair behind my ear.

  ‘Eyes up,’ he growled softly. ‘I won’t tell you again, Rebecca.’ Wow! I sucked in a quick breath at his tone, which had sounded quite a lot like a threat, but for some reason I just couldn’t defy him. I raised my wide eyes to his once again; my heart feeling like it might explode from my ribcage at any moment.

  ‘That’s better. You have such beautiful eyes,’ he murmured, looking like he wanted to touch me, but refraining.

  I blushed again at his compliment; wondering exactly how red a person could go without their blood vessels actually exploding. He was still staring at me intently and although it seemed crazy, I wondered if it were somehow possible that this godlike creature felt the same attraction I did.

  ‘There’s that tell again, Rebecca: playing with your hair.’ He tutted softly, as his glance flicked to my ear and back again. ‘It looks better down,’ he informed me, somehow managing to un-tuck my hair from behind my ear without actually touching my skin at all. Still, just knowing that his fingers had been in my hair made my scalp tingle, and I had to fight the urge to finger the strands that he had moved.

  My head was spinning. Nicholas’ proximity, smell, and peculiar comments were confusing me – did he like me too? It was possible, I supposed. My friends always told me I was pretty, but I knew I wasn’t in his league. Even if it were the case, why had he gone to such lengths to avoid touching me? He’d actually sat on a chair to escape sharing the piano stool with me, for goodness’ sake.

  In fact, as I cast my mind back to our meeting after the concert, I couldn’t recall him having touched me then either. Not a handshake, not a brush of his fingers over my arm; no contact at all. How peculiar.

  Then, as if nothing had occurred between us at all, Nicholas resumed his lesson on the basic chord changes, leaving me reeling once again, God, he was so confusing. Halfway through instructing me on how to play a G-chord correctly, however, he once again shocked me with his changeable ways by turning to me and closing the music book so I couldn’t continue with my piece.

  I turned to him in confusion, thinking that perhaps I had done something wrong.

  ‘Are you single?’ he asked me bluntly.

  Completely thrown by Nicholas’ random question and odd tone, I frowned and answered hesitantly, ‘Um … yes.’

  After almost having recovered from his earlier “beautiful eyes” comment, my heart was once again pounding in my chest to the point of pain. I thought that perhaps after my affirmative response Nicholas might act, ask me out, but he didn’t. Exasperatingly, he merely nodded, reopened the music, and continued my lesson.

  What the heck had that been about? This man was infuriatingly difficult to read! Mind you, compared to the other men I’d dated, Nicholas made them look like inexperienced boys. He somehow came across as a real, manly man, completely self-assured and confident; something I had recently discovered was a rather appealing combination.

  From the corner of my eye, I could see Nicholas’ continued assessment of me, but saw that he wore an expression that seemed to be a mix of arrogance and derisive passiveness. Apparently, he was unmoved by my single status.

  It was ridiculous, but his obvious rejection of me stung like a burn across my skin. As I left that night, I made a conscious effort not to look at Nicholas or show my disappointment. I also decided I’d call him in the week and cancel all future lessons. The piano was fun but I didn’t need an unrequited crush on a ridiculously handsome man to complicate my life.

  Chapter Three

  The rasping noise of a harmonica broke me from my reverie, and as I blinked back to the present I realised I’d walked the entire length of Camden High Street in a daze. Trying to push away my daydreams of Nicholas and focus on the more important reality of living my life, I looked down at the familiar figure of Max, a local busker and harmonica genius, whose favourite spot is just on the end of the road where my shop is located. After chucking him a quid and a KitKat from my bag – they’re his favourites – I headed for the junction that leads up the smaller road to my bookshop.

  Turning off the High Street, I was almost instantly surrounded by a refreshing calmness as the number of people surrounding me died down to barely a handful. It always amazed me that by just walking ten or so paces away from the main road you could somehow escape the noise and bustle so quickly. Even though I knew that Camden was still happening back there in all its colourful, crowded, noisy glory, I now felt a million miles away.

  The side street that my book shop is on also has a few markets of its own, but these predominantly sell fruit and vegetables and, while still busy, it’s nothing compared to the crowds on the main drag.

  I smiled at Johno on stall five as I passed. He’s my fruit guy and always has the freshest, most tasty figs I’ve ever been lucky enough to ingest.

  Once I walk past the fruit stalls, the road starts to look more residential, lined with pretty, brick-built townhouses laden with overflowing hanging baskets, most of which have shops on the lower floor like mine. There’s a vintage vinyl shop selling records from the 50s, 60s, and 70s, a fancy dress boutique, a hairdresser and me, the Camden Book Emporium. The name came with the shop when I bought it, might I add, and although my shop is in Camden, its tiny interior is about as far from an “emporium” as you could get. As much as I might dislike the name, however, the business has an established reputation so I’ve bravely stuck with it.

  If only I’d been as brave in sticking to my decision of cancelling my lessons with Nicholas, I thought as I pulled a bunch of keys from my bag and selected the correct one to open the shop. If I had, I might not be standing on the street, still able to remember the slight ache on my rear from the episode with the cane.

  But I hadn’t called him to cancel, of course not. I’d fancied him like crazy; why would I cancel? To give myself a little credit, I had tried several times. I’d even dialled his number fully on two occasions but I’d chickened out both times and hung up as soon as I heard ringing. The fact of the matter was that as well as being incredibly attracted to Nicholas Jackson he scared me slightly, and because of this I’d been too worried about what he might say if I tried to cancel, so in the end I’d just gone along the following Friday.

  To make matters even more confusing, Nicholas had acted in a completely professional fashion at the next lesson. There had been no inquisitive glances or strange questions and I began to wonder if my lust-filled brain had dreamed up his actions that first week.

  After several weeks, my piano playing had made a marked improvement and I gradually began to relax my guard around Nicholas. He hadn’t tried anything or made any more suggestive comments so I decided to be an adult about it and try to see him solely as my tutor and nothing else.

  Unfortunately, this was when all my troubles really began.

  After he’d asked me if I was single and then done nothing when he knew I was, I
had convinced myself that Nicholas wasn’t interested in me. Even though I had promised to view him as my tutor and nothing more, I couldn’t help the thrill of attraction that ran through me every time he was near, or the way my pulse spiked if I caught his eye for a moment or two. He was so good-looking that I think even a celibate nun would have had some sort of response to him.

  I decided that it might be a one-sided crush, but if I was careful he’d never know, and besides, I’d get over it in time. That was what I told myself anyway, but in the weeks that followed, I noticed that Nicholas developed a certain way of looking at me that made me feel completely transparent to him.

  It had continued like this, Nicholas distant and daunting and me uncharacteristically on edge and nervy, until, one evening after I’d forced myself to try and start relaxing around him, he finally touched me.

  It occurred just as I was finishing a new piece he had taught me. Unbeknown to me, he had moved to stand behind me, and as I completed the song, he placed a hand lightly on the centre of my back.

  As ridiculous as it sounds, I couldn’t help but gasp as the heat from his palm seemed to sear my skin and froze me to the spot. Very slowly, he used one finger to trail a path up my spine before resting his hand on the nape of my neck and seeming to rip the breath from my body as he did so. Involuntarily, I shuddered from the intense pleasure of his contact, still slightly shocked that he was touching me at all. Shooting sparks danced across my skin, causing me to jab the piano keys clumsily and make an awful racket. It ruined the otherwise successful piece and made me look incredibly foolish to boot.

  ‘Am I mistaken, Rebecca, or do you feel it too?’ Nicholas asked in a silken tone as he lowered himself to sit on the piano stool next to me, heat positively radiating from his body. Or perhaps the heat was coming from me: things felt so surreal that I couldn’t quite tell.

  Part of me wanted to play dumb and say, ‘Feel what too?’ but even though I’d tried to tell myself he didn’t like me, I wasn’t entirely naïve. The tension between us these past few weeks had grown to the point where it was almost palpable; besides, I was dreadful at seduction so I simply nodded shyly.

  ‘Say it,’ he instructed, his thumb doing disastrous things to my equilibrium by rubbing a small circle on the nape of my neck.

  ‘I feel it too, Nicholas.’ I had dropped my eyes out of embarrassment, but immediately felt his hand stop circling and grip my shoulder tighter, till it was almost painful.

  ‘Look at me,’ he ordered, and I did. I really should be remembering his obsession with eye contact by now; he’d reminded me of it enough times.

  ‘Wayward and fiery one minute, yet so obedient the next,’ Nicholas mused out loud, seemingly talking to himself. I scoffed at his comment internally.

  I was confident yes, headstrong even on occasions, but wayward and fiery? Hardly – especially not when I was in his domineering presence.

  ‘I have tried to avoid the urge, but I would very much like to fuck you over this piano, Rebecca,’ he murmured suddenly, causing my eyes to fly open as his grip once again tightened on my neck, causing me to gasp at his crudeness.

  Wow , I had not expected that comment in a million years.

  But his grip on my shoulder and obvious strength triggered my mind to fill with images of my sister, Joanne, and the horrific ordeal she had been through just over seven years ago: images so awful that I usually worked hard to subdue them, but I couldn’t escape them now, and I felt panic start to rise from my belly.

  My apprehension must have been all too apparent on my face because I saw Nicholas’ eyebrows rise as his lips narrowed into a thin line. ‘You look almost horrified by my suggestion, Rebecca, but I’m asking your opinion. This would be completely consensual; if you say no then we simply go back to our lesson,’ he finished with a shrug, although his tone wasn’t quite as casual as his actions suggested.

  Consensual … which made it completely different to Joanne’s encounter, then, I thought, pushing aside the unpleasant memories. I had to admit that even though I’d never done anything as reckless as this before I found Nicholas’ proposition an incredible turn-on. His words exactly mirrored the fantasy I’d had several times now and catapulted something inside me to life as I felt my groin moisten and my stomach muscles quiver in anticipation.

  ‘Would you like that, or have I shocked you?’ he enquired softly, his thumb rubbing me in gentle motions again, prompting the hairs on my neck to rise and meet his caress.

  Now I’d managed to lock away the thoughts of my poor sister I found my voice. ‘Your word choice was a bit shocking … but … I think I’d like it,’ I said, my response causing him to suck in a sharp breath through his nose.

  ‘My word choice? Because I said fuck, you mean?’ he asked, looking rather amused for some reason, but I nodded jerkily in response. ‘I don’t do relationships, Rebecca, I enjoy the company of women but usually only for an hour or two. We barely know each other, so I would be lying if I said I wanted to make love to you, so I didn’t. I said it as it is; I would very much like to fuck you. And if that’s something that doesn’t interest you, you can leave now and we will simply continue your lessons next week.’

  Oh . He certainly had a way with words, didn’t he? So he wanted to fuck me tonight and maybe another time or two but then it would be over, probably along with my piano lessons too, because that would just be too weird to continue with afterwards. For some inexplicable reason, though, I found myself shaking my head.

  ‘I don’t want to leave.’ God, what was I getting myself into? I’d never even used the word “fuck” as a curse, let alone to describe something I wanted to do with a man.

  Nicholas released another long, slow breath as if absorbing the moment, then a smug smile tugged at the corners of his tempting mouth. ‘Good. Stand up and lean on this,’ he instructed, closing the lid over the piano keys so I could rest my behind on it.

  Moving himself so he was sitting at the centre of the stool, Nicholas placed his hands on my waist and, without any warning, jerked me sideways along the piano so I stood between his legs. He hadn’t kissed me, had barely even touched me properly, and yet I was more turned on than I think I had ever been in my entire life.

  Trailing his hands so they rested on my bare knees, he ran them teasingly up under the hem of my cotton skirt to my outer thighs and then repeated the journey back down again. My head lolled back and my eyes closed from the pleasure of his touch, but suddenly I found Nicholas standing up and pressing his hips painfully against mine. One of his hands twisted into my hair, forcing my head back up, and I opened my eyes in surprise at his forceful movements.

  ‘Eyes open, Becky. You know how much I like to see you.’ His sentence was ground out as if I had annoyed him by looking away. Blinking in confusion, I looked him directly in the eyes as a flicker of concern mixed with my arousal.

  ‘Better,’ he stated, looking pleased, before his lips descended on mine with such devastating heat that I gasped for breath, instantly forgetting my concern. Taking the opportunity my gasp presented, Nicholas’ tongue lunged into my mouth, searching and teasing and heating my blood until he too had to stop for air.

  I was literally panting as his hands began to roam across my body, which I found embarrassing, but no matter what I did I couldn’t seem to breathe normally any more. To be honest, simply remaining upright was enough of a struggle right now.

  ‘Rest your arms back on the top of the piano,’ he instructed briskly, and I was so captivated by him that I did it at once. Now I stood leaning against the piano on my elbows as if resting there casually, a position completely at odds with the emotions that tumbled through my body under his skilled touch.

  He rubbed the heels of his hands roughly across my breasts, and I felt my nipples tighten and strain against my T-shirt to the point where the lace of my bra almost seemed painful, but in a way that only added to my overall arousal. God, that felt amazing, and I wished the barrier of material wasn’t there so I could f
eel him skin on skin.

  ‘So responsive,’ he murmured under his breath, looking me straight in the eye. Without dropping his gaze, he located one of my nipples under the T-shirt and took it between his thumb and forefinger. He tugged it gently, making me moan softly and arch myself toward him where I felt his solid erection digging into my belly.

  The feel of his hard length jutting against my thigh brought things into focus for me. This was really happening, Nicholas was this aroused because of me. The thought was potent, powerful somehow, and emboldened me enough to push my hand between us and cup the bulge in his trousers, causing a hiss to escape from his lips.

  His favourite half-smile seemed to play on his lips as he repeated the treatment on my other breast, this time twisting the nipple more sharply and sending a delicious shudder directly to my groin and making me moan out loud. His movements threatened to undo me, and as he pressed his thigh against the apex of my legs and began rubbing it against my groin through the material of my skirt I thought I might melt.

  ‘Ahhh …’ I gasped aloud, but somehow managed to maintain eye contact with him, rather than allowing my eyes to close like they wanted as desire shimmied through me.

  As both his hands continued teasing, rubbing and tugging my nipples, I began to fear I might actually fall over. It had been a while since I’d been intimate with a man like this, a long while, and the sensations washing through my body were almost too much for me to handle.

  I don’t know if it was Nicholas’ deft touches, the added sensitivity from the material of my T-shirt, or just the way he seemed to be adding in painfully hard tweaks that sent desire coursing through me, but with the addition of his teasing leg at my groin I was quickly getting to the point of no return.