Page 135 of Someone Exactly Like Me (Wounded Hearts 1)
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Destiny
I’m in Nicco’s arms. He came here to fight for me. He’s choosing me.
He carries me up to my bedroom and we make the most emotional, passionate love I’ve ever experienced. Our souls connect on an ethereal level. Our bodies ignite in ecstasy.
I wake in the morning to soft kisses on my shoulder, down my arm. He’s tucked in behind me, propped on his elbow. A yawn sneaks out of me as I roll my body toward him.
“Good morning,” his deep voice rumbles through me as he smiles down at me.
“Good morning.”
He kisses my forehead.
“You didn’t have a cigarette after we made love last night.” I hadn’t realized it until we were almost asleep.
“No, I didn’t.” His smile broadens proudly as he tilts his head a bit. “I called your friend, Heidi, and she’s helping me quit.”
“Nicco, that’s wonderful.”
“You once told me that a soul mate doesn’t complete you, but they inspire you to complete yourself. You do that for me.” He traces his finger from the top of my forehead, down the side of my face, and across my jaw, then touches his lips to mine.
My heart swells with happiness that’s quickly overtaken by melancholy. Though our feelings are now out in the open, I don’t know how a relationship could work between us.
“Nicco?”
“Yes?”
“What happens now? With us.”
“What do you want to happen?”
“I don’t know. A lot’s happened in the last few weeks that I haven’t even told you about.”
“Okay. So, tell me.” Shifting his eyes from mine, he watches his fingers trail over my shoulder and down my arm.
“Well, my book’s doing really well, but there’s no guarantee I’m on my way back to stable income. And I’m buying my house so I need stable income.”
“You are?” he asks, returning his gaze to me.
“Yes, Bev and Tom sold me the house. They made me an amazing offer and they don’t even want to make money on it. They’re just downsizing the number of properties they have to manage.”
“So you’re going to own your house now?” Squeezing my hip, he wiggles me.
“Yeah. Well, I hope so.”
“That’s awesome,” he says, leaning down, kissing my décolletage.
“It is and I’m excited, but I’m also a little nervous. I’ve been interviewing at Creative Artists —”
“A desk job?” Lifting from my décolletage, he looks at me with narrowed brows. “You wouldn’t like that at all.”
“I know, but it would be stable income and I can write when I’m not there.”
He leans back down and kisses my neck with tender pecks. My skin warms beneath his lips as I sip an inhale.
“That won’t make you happy.” Sliding the strap of my camisole down over my shoulder, he moves his kisses to the top of my breast.
