I’m still not sure which path is meant for me. But right now, the woman in front of me just feels right.
I place my hands on either side of Vivienne’s face and end our kiss. Her clover-colored eyes are dreamy and unfocused as she blinks at me, confusion in the pout of her lips and the furrow between her brows. “You said if I still wanted you in the morning, I could have you.”
I chuckle at her plainly spoken words, confident there’s no ulterior motive behind them. “Do you?”
“Yes, Lance. Are you going to make me beg?” She punctuates the question with a roll of her hips, her pussy grazing the crown of my cock.
I bite down on a groan and fist a hand in her hair, tugging just enough to watch her eyes darken with desire. “I just might.”
“Well, then. Please, Mr. Welles. Pretty please, will you finish what you started last night?” She nibbles on her lower lip, her tone husky and teasing. “Of course, if you promised something you can’t deliver, maybe—”
A growl creeps up my throat. “Oh, I’ll deliver, all right.” I pull her face back down to mine, invading her mouth with a searing kiss as I run my fingers between the crack of her ass, then lower, my fingers slipping easily inside her damp folds. She gives a sigh of pleasure, arching her back to allow me better access.
I pull my hand away, slapping her ass twice on each cheek for her impertinence. And from the way she grinds her hips against me, she likes it.
Yeah. I could definitely fall for this girl. And then, I do.
There is no warning, no groan of trees or snap of a metal clasp.
One minute we’re firmly cocooned inside the hammock. The next, we’re airborne, weightless.
And the next, we’re slammed to the ground.
Thankfully, Vivienne lands on top of me, so I bear the brunt of it. “Are you okay?” I ask, feeling her body for any sign of injury.
“Me? I’m fine. What about you?” She rolls off me, peering beneath my head. “Did you hit anything, a rock or something?”
Satisfied that she isn’t hurt, I sit up. We were only a few feet off the ground, and the rich soil is covered by a thick carpet of grass. “I’m fine, too.”
Vivienne grabs one of the towels we used to cover ourselves last night and wraps it around her shoulders. “Are you always so injury prone? First the broken glass, now the hammock. This house isn’t exactly rolling out the welcome mat for you.”
I shrug. “That’s one way to look at it.”
“What’s another?”
“It kept us from doing something we shouldn’t.” At the flash of hurt that streaks across Vivienne’s face, I reach for her hand and pull her to standing. “Condoms, Red. I don’t have any on me.”
Her frown quickly transitions into a shy smile. “Oh. Okay.”
“Come on, let’s go check out the house. The painters said we could open the windows and air it out this morning.” In a few hours, I’ll have my choice of beds to fuck Vivienne on. Not to mention all the other things that will be arriving today. Tables and chairs and couches, plus the freshly painted walls I wouldn’t mind backing her up against, that enormous tub I cleaned myself, and . . . so many options.
My house looks nothing like it did two days ago. Everything is neutral, with clean lines and a modern feel. In the kitchen, the cheap plastic table has been replaced with a one-of-a-kind piece of carved walnut. Instead of a lumpy sectional in the living room, now I have a deep, tufted sofa studded with pewter nail heads, an armless bench, and a pair of leather chairs.
My office is fully functional, with an enormous executive desk, several bookcases, and an inviting seating arrangement. Upstairs, the master bedroom is a retreat I can’t wait to explore.
Unfortunately, Vivienne and I won’t be testing out the king-sized mattress right away. After I finish signing paperwork and tipping the delivery guys, I find her in one of the smaller bedrooms down the hall. Hair done, makeup on, dressed like she’s going somewhere.
And she is.
“You can’t call out? Maybe an injury sustained during an unfortunate fall from a hammock?”
Her laugh is like wind chimes, gently tinkling through the house. “They’re counting on me. I can’t just flake at the last minute.”
“Oh, come on. There’s got to be someone at the restaurant who can cover for you.” Christ. Am I begging?
“I’m not working at the restaurant. There’s a pop-up shop opening this weekend, and they’ve hired me to coordinate the set-up.”
“A pop-up shop?” I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“A temporary store. Basically, if a designer or retailer notices a vacant storefront, they ask the landlord to lease the space for a short time. A week, a month, maybe a season. The landlord gets cash, and the designer can test out new products or a location they’re not sure about. And consumers get a taste of something new.” Her eyes slide away from mine to frown at the bed. Walking across the room, she begins rearranging the pillows. “It’s a win-win.”
Coming up behind her, I slide my hands around her waist and pull her toward me. “Sounds like a lose-lose for me.”
“Well, they’re great for me. The pay is decent, and I can photograph them for my portfolio. I have another one booked for next week.”
She turns inside my arms, her wide smile making my pulse pound. “That reminds me—I’d like to take a few pictures of the house once it’s all accessorized and everything.”
“Accessorized?” She’s speaking an unfamiliar language, and it’s hard to focus on her words when all I want to do is kiss the gloss right off her lips.
“Artwork, vases, rugs. Kind of like ornaments on a tree, you know? There’s no such thing as a naked Christmas tree.”
Still, no idea. Although there’s nothing wrong with naked, in my opinion. But when Vivienne’s smile starts to falter, I nod like I do. “Absolutely. Accessorize, photograph. Go for it.”
Vivienne rolls her eyes. “I should really ask your friend first. It’s his house after all. Would you mind giving me his contact information, so I can reach out to him directly?”
“He’s pretty laid back. I’ll run it by him while you’re working and if he has any concerns, I’ll give you his number.”
She makes a little squeak of happiness and wraps her arms around me. Our kiss starts playfully but quickly turns into something else altogether. Vivienne is soft and warm and yielding. Her hands climb up my back, fingers plowing into my hair until it feels like she’s cradling my skull in a precious grip.
Like it might break.
Like there’s something fragile about our kiss. About us.
There’s not a fragile bone in my body, but I know exactly what she’s doing, and why.
And I wish I knew how to make all this uncertainty go away.
But I can’t. Because I feel it too. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. I’ve been burned before, and I’m not sure I want to stand so close to the flames again.
I end the kiss gradually, with a very disgruntled growl. But I take solace in the blissed-out look on Vivienne’s face. Her eyes are all soft and unfocused, her lips pouty and swollen. “Come on, I’ll drive you to the pop store.”