Chapter 8
Just For Now
I open my eyes to a dark room. The only light comes from the flicker of the fireplace and the TV. Wind and snow scratch on the French doors. The storm has gotten worse. A different chef is frying thinly sliced potato around shrimp. I’m hungry again.
It’s too hot to put on the robe. Vincent’s home must be made of insulated glass. I fetch my panties out of the dryer and find a woman’s T-shirt in the closet. One of Vincent’s bachelorettes must’ve left it.
I open the door and tiptoe down the hallway and stairs. I don’t have to search for light switches because they turn on automatically. Once I’m in the kitchen, I go straight to the refrigerator. Vincent has stored the food in plastic containers. What sort of man is so meticulous?
“You’re up?”
I jump and turn to face Vincent. “You startled me!” I clutch my chest. I thought he was asleep.
“Sorry.” He gets an eyeful of the lower half of my body. His eyes roll back up to my face. “Are you warming up something to eat?”
Holy hell. He has on pajama bottoms and no shirt. I like that his chest isn’t overly ripped. He has the physique of a man who works out just enough to be tantalizing.
“Yes. I’m starving,” I say.
He points at the breakfast bar with his chin. “Go have a seat. I’ll warm something up for you.”
“No, I can get it. I’m sorry I woke you. I tried to stay quiet.”
He sniffs. “I can’t sleep while you’re in the room across from me, naked under a robe.”
I’m frozen. “Peter” is thickening between his legs, and “the twins” are balling their fists under my T-shirt. I turn to take the first two plastic containers I lay my hands on out of the refrigerator. When I turn back around, he’s right behind me.
“I’ll take those,” he says, ogling my breasts.
I shake my head. “I’m so sorry. I would’ve covered up if I thought we would run into each other.”
He sets the containers on the counter, takes one of my hands, and guides me close to him. “You can’t deny me again, Maggie.” His thumb fiddles with my nipple.
I skip a breath. “You have a girlfriend.”
“I never forgot about you. It drove me crazy that you wanted Robert instead of me.” He tucks a wayward lock of my hair behind my ear. “That first day we passed each other outside the principal’s office, I felt something. People call it energy or butterflies. Whatever the hell it was, it felt damn good. I’ve been waiting for it to happen again. It finally did.”
“With your girlfriend?” I barely say.
“When I saw you at the wedding.”
Wow, what a punch line. “I saw you there, but I thought you were drooling over Mandy Hill.”
Vincent’s expression says he’s caught up in the euphoria of lust. I’m not far behind. “Who’s that?”
“The actress?” He’s too close. I step back and bump into the refrigerator trays.
“That Mandy Hill? I didn’t see her there.”
“She was sitting next to me,” I mutter.
“You should probably step out of the refrigerator.”
“Ouch.” I bang my elbow on something as I scramble out of the cold box.
He takes my arm and rubs the sore spot. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I barely say.
I’m fully aware that we’ve come to a fork in the road. One left turn, and I’m falling into Vincent’s arms. A right turn, and I’m running away as fast as I can.
Vincent backs off, and I can breathe again. He opens a container and then goes over to retrieve a plate out of the cabinet and a fork out of the drawer. “What did you think about the wedding? I know you’re related, but you can be honest with me.” He grins.
I embrace the change in subject with a chuckle. “Jack doesn’t do much by the book. I’m surprised he got married at all. He always said he never would.”
“I said the same thing about myself,” he mumbles and points to the stool behind the breakfast bar. “Sit there.”
I do as I’m told.
He puts the food in the microwave. “He really gave her the tongue.”
“He’s always giving her the tongue. It’s their thing.” I shrug.
He looks scrumptious coming toward me, wearing a smirk. I’m mesmerized at first, but I shake myself out of the stupor.
“He’s a good guy,” he says. “Hell if I know what he does exactly, but he makes a shitload of cash.”
“He’s a real estate developer and he still owns a percentage of Lord Steel.”
“But that’s not all, is it?”
I narrow one eye. “What are you assuming?”
He snickers. “Nothing that will get him ten to twenty.”
“Good, because Jack is the last person in the world who would get involved in illegal business practices.”
He observes me with ruffled eyebrows. “You two are close?”
“Very.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I roll my eyes. “Are you one of those guys?”
His smirk is tainted by intrigue. “What kind of ‘guys’ are you referring to?”
“One who’s uncomfortable every time a woman gets snappy. Because I’m snappy most of the time.”
He laughs. “No, I’m not one of those guys. I don’t want to upset you in particular.”
The microwave chimes, which is great because I’m lost for words. I watch him walk over to the microwave.
He takes out the plate, gets a fresh fork, and sets both in front of me. “Be careful. The plate is hot.”
“I will.” I pick up the fork and spear a shrimp. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He sits on the stool beside me. “So you attended Columbia University?”
I blow on the shrimp. “Um hum.”
“I’m there once or twice a year as a guest speaker at a seminar for entrepreneurs. I’m surprised I never ran into you.”
“It’s a big campus, so…” I pop the shrimp into my mouth.
“True, but I’m drawn to you.”
I cough just in time to keep from choking. “What do you want from me?” I’m exhausted by the verbal “cat and mouse” he started.
“Funny you ask. Will you let me show you?”
Damn, he’s good. No wonder he owns and operates a multi-billion-dollar corporation.
“I know what you want to show me.” I put another shrimp in my mouth.
“Is that so?”
“Um hum.”
“And you’re going to let me?”
I shrug. “Why not?”
I swallow. There’s no use fighting it. I won’t be that girl who gets involved with taken men if we only do it once in order to get it out of our systems.
He chuckles. I like the sound of it. “And what do I want to show you?”
I’m still feeling bold, but it’s dwindling fast. I shrug. “Your bed possibly.” There. I said it.
“How soon can I take you to my bed?”
Panic sets in. This is happening for real. “As soon as you like.”
Vincent takes my fork and drops it on the plate. Then he lifts me off the stool. I wrap my legs around his waist. He shifts the crotch of my panties. One. Two. Three. I gasp.
He fills me up. We stare into each other’s eyes as he gently shifts my hips against his crotch. I feel every centimeter of his rock-hard penis. My lips part, I release a long, warm breath, and he plants a soft kiss on my lips. We don’t break eye contact. Our lips and tongue merely tease each other.
Vincent thrusts deeper inside me to carry me out of the kitchen. The walls change around me. Our eyes are still connected. I wonder what he’s thinking. I’m thinking that I could fall in love with him, which is bad because I can’t. It’s too inconvenient.
“This is just sex.”
“Is it?” he whispers.
I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud. I close my eyes and nod. I can’t say the yes, because deep down, that’s not the answer I want to be our reality.
I open my eyes. He’s taken me to another room with more snow-coated glass walls. I feel as though the house has been buried under ice. Vincent stops squeezing my breast to press a button on the wall. A dim light replaces the bright one. He spreads me on top of a large round sofa in the center of the room. Finally, he has me on my back. His lips dive in for a deep kiss.
Vincent has a method to his madness. His every thrust elicits a tingling sensation. I moan and bite my bottom lip. I hate that he knows what the hell he’s doing. He’s just making me want more.
“I’m taking off this shirt,” he whispers.
My arms go up, and he tugs it over my head. He greedily sucks on my nipple. Umm... His mouth feels so damn soft and hot. I’m in sex heaven.
I lift my hips to meet his. “Oh...” I cry out. I’m on the verge of experiencing that legendary vaginal orgasm. I open my eyes just to see if it’s actually Vincent Adams who’s taking me to the land of sexual euphoria.
He lifts his ass and shoves his penis upward and to the left. He holds it there.
“Oh, God!” I cry. The tingling builds, and builds, and erupts into a robust orgasm. He holds me against him as I quiver.
“Shit, Maggie,” he whispers as my insides quicken around his dick. “I love…”
He goes right into pounding me hard but not hard enough. I want him to break through me. We’re kissing greedily, panting and biting. Vincent, please consume me.
He whimpers and then stabs me with his rigidness. He ropes his arms around my neck. Our skin is pasted together. Vincent grunts and trembles. I can’t believe he’s taking pleasure in my body.
“Oh!” he shouts. His voice is like a sweet explosion.
Our hearts are beating fast. Our skin is glazed with sweat. He’s still inside of me.
“I can’t believe I f*cked my boss.” I chuckle.
“Oh, I’m not done f*cking you yet.”
I smile. I’m glad we’re not done. “I want to tell you something.”
“You can tell me anything.”
“You just gave me my first vaginal orgasm ever.”
He reaches around to pat himself on the back, and I laugh. “I knew I had it right, but you’re quiet when you make love. Why is that?”
“I don’t know why.”
“It’s hard to figure out if I’m pleasing you or not.”
“Oh, you pleased me.”
The admission makes him kiss me. “Are you having sex with anyone else?” he asks after coming up for air.
“No. Why?”
“We didn’t use protection.”
“Oh, I see. No, I haven’t had sex in two years. I think. Probably three or two and a half.”
“That can’t be true,” he says.
“It’s true.”
“Your body is made for f*cking.”
I roll my eyes a little. “That’s a joke, right?”
“You have two perfectly round ass cheeks. Your tits are real and bouncy.” To show me what he means, he takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks so hard I can hear it. “I hate that fake shit.”
“Well, thank you for liking my body.” I’m being patronizing. “But tits and ass don’t make someone f*ckable.”
“I don’t like your body, Maggie. I love it. We’ve got more rounds to go.” He picks me up off the sofa while he’s still inside of me. “And Maggie?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry about getting pregnant. I’ve had a vasectomy. Is that a deal breaker?”
“For me or your girlfriend?” I wish I could take that back.
“For you,” he says right before melting his mouth onto mine. He sure knows how to dodge an uncomfortable subject.
My head is floating. “No, not at all,” I reply.
He doesn’t miss a beat as he walks me up the staircase. He takes me into my bedroom and spreads me on top of the bed. He carefully takes his penis out of me.
I flip on my stomach when he goes into the bathroom. I caution myself yet again not to fall in love with Vincent. He comes out of the bathroom quietly enough that I don’t hear him. Then he straddles me and massages my ass.
“I just want to eat it up and eat you out,” he says.
He parts my butt cheeks, and a hot, wet tongue slides down the middle. I grab the pillow when he nails me in the hole.
“That pleases you?” His sexy question becomes an erotic stimulant.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Hands to hips, and I’m flipped over onto my back. Vincent’s eyes are possessed by fiery passion, but his rigid penis steals the show. It’s a beautiful thing to behold. I want to put it in my mouth, but just like outside of the bedroom, he’s the boss. He takes a long breath between his teeth. He’s so turned on, and I’m doing it to him, which is mind-boggling. His face comes toward my p-ssy. He drapes my legs over his shoulders.
The anticipation is frightening. What we did downstairs was quick and thoughtless. It could easily be forgiven and forgotten. As soon as his mouth makes contact with my p-ssy, I’m aware that there will be no turning back.
Vincent doesn’t go straight for the *. He draws one lip of my labia into the concaves of his wet mouth and rolls his tongue around the puffy flesh. He gives the other side the same attention. Then he slips enough fingers inside me to make me feel it.
“Shit, you’re dripping wet.” He sounds surprised.
I crane my neck to look down at him. That’s when he goes for the big C. I flip my head back and moan. He makes an immediate impact. How the hell is he doing that?
He’s gripping my ass so I can’t yank my * out of his mouth. I’ve gone from two to ten in less than two seconds. I whimper like a starving puppy. I grab his hair and hold on. His tongue digs and digs deeper. His mouth isn’t all over the damn place; Vincent knows how to focus his efforts. He wants to hear me, so I part my lips and cry on climax.
As a reward, Vincent shifts his tongue to an undisturbed part of my * and starts from the top. He finger-bangs me like a jackhammer while he’s at it. I’m making sounds I’ve never heard come out of myself. He can certainly multi-task.
I shout his name. He deserves it. When I come, my entire lower half trembles. I’m whiting out and screaming. He jams his dick inside of me before I settle down. My legs are still over his shoulders. His beautiful dick is the right length and girth. His strokes enhance the residual orgasmic sensations inside of me. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the air.
“Look at me,” he demands.
I open my eyes to connect with a gaze that takes my breath away. In this moment, it’s him and me. My job, his girlfriend, our risky decision doesn’t exist. Shit, I’ve gone too far.
Vincent crushes his lips on mine and grunts in my mouth when he comes.
Firelight sets the mood. I can’t hear the storm anymore. For a moment, I wonder if it’s passed. Vincent rolls me on top of his naked body and embraces me. I scoot down to listen to his heart. I’ve had sex with thirteen guys, and this is the first time it was with someone who knows what the hell he’s doing.
“That was better than the fantasy,” he says.
I snuggle closer. “Oh, well, you did all the work.”
“That’s because you’re inspiring.”
I want to kiss his bare chest and pretend we belong to each other. Instead, I sigh and roll over on my back. “What time do we fly out?”
Vincent flips onto his side and draws me into him. He spoons me, fondling my nipples. “You’re stuck with me for two more days.” He bumps his boner against my ass. “And nights.”
I twist around to look at him. “But we have to get back.”
“It’s a three-day storm.”
“How do you know? Have you checked the weather report?”
“Yes, I have,” he says.
I narrow one eye. “Did you know about the storm before you flew us out here?”
He smirks. “You sound suspicious.”
“That’s because I am.”
“Let’s just say I wanted to make this moment happen, and I did.”
I sigh. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”
“Why not, baby?”
I massage my forehead, trying to rub the tension out of it. I must remember what’s really going on. This won’t lead to love, marriage, and a baby carriage, especially since he’s had a vasectomy.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks.
“Nothing. Forget it.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Don’t call me ‘baby’ anymore. It’s confusing.”
“It’s not confusing to me. Don’t think this is going to mess up our working relationship. It’s only going to make it better.”
“Tsk. How is that?”
“I’ll tell you later. First, I want to know everything about you. What do you do on the weekends?”
“Huh?” That’s the craziest question he could ask at this moment.
“I want to know what you do on the weekends.”
I sigh. “Really?”
“Do I have to ask a third time?”
“No…” I roll my eyes. “I don’t know. I have three socially active girlfriends, so I always have something to do.”
He shifts my hair so he can kiss my collarbone. “Like what?”
“This party. That party. This gallery. That fashion show, or a store opening. Most weekends we just go out and have a good time.”
“What’s a good time?”
“We drink. We talk. We dance. Some Sundays we do hot dogs for breakfast in Washington Square.”
“You haven’t met anyone while you were drinking, talking, and dancing?”
“I leave that up to Hannah and Monroe. Guys fall at their feet. They’re twin supermodels. Actually, you might like them.”
“But I like you.”
“But you have a girlfriend who looks like a supermodel.”
He remains silent.
“I get it. You don’t want to talk about her while you’re f*cking me. Well, I don’t want to talk about other guys while I’m f*cking you.”
“That’s fair.”
“I thought so.”
He flips me onto my back and spreads my legs. “Then I should start f*cking you.”
I inhale when he jabs me with his hard-on. We lock lips. Our mouths fit and so do our bodies.
“Damn, Vincent Adams, I love you right now.”
“I love you too,” he whispers.
Shit. I said that out loud.