Vince: Book Two of the Perfectly Independent Series

by Amanda Shelley

When I pull open the door, the first thing I notice is Vince’s sexy chest on full display with the covers gathered at his trim waist. My eyes are pulled to the sexy V that dips below the blankets, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s wearing.

  As I drag my eyes up his sculpted body, I realize I may have taken too long. His arm covers the top part of his face, and his slack jaw indicates he’s fast asleep.

  Glancing at the clock, I realize it’s after three in the morning, and my disappointment disperses. I can’t blame him at all. The poor guy’s been up since before six, and he must be exhausted. Not wanting to disturb him, I turn on my bedside lamp and turn off the main light.

  Crawling into bed, I pull the covers over the two of us. Instinctually, he reaches out to me and pulls me close. Since he’s got all the pillows behind him, I use this opportunity to use his chest as a pillow. I find the place on his chest that makes the perfect pillow, and I wrap an arm around his waist as my leg crosses through his.

  Reaching over, I turn off the lamp beside us.

  “You smell amazing, Syd,” he says sleepily as he inhales deeply.

  “Shhh… let’s sleep,” I suggest, not wanting to disturb him.

  Wordlessly, he snuggles into me further, and I feel my body relax into him. Yeah, I was hoping for a different outcome tonight, but times like this are just as memorable. Drifting off to sleep, I can’t help but hope for more small moments like this.

  Vince must really be tired because I actually wake before him. His deep breathing and steady heartbeat keep me relaxed, instead of thinking about the millions of things on my to-do list on a Saturday morning.

  It also helps that I don’t have to be anywhere until later this evening. God, I love Saturday mornings, but having Vince here makes it even better.

  Somehow, I’ve managed to use him has a pillow all night. With my arm draped over his chest, I can’t help but trace the lines of his ribs and along the planes of muscles along his abs.

  I must be too focused on my conquests because he startles me when he flattens my hand along his stomach. “Good God, woman, you’re relentless. You do know I’m ticklish, right?”

  Oops.

  “Sorry,” I cringe. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “You can wake me with your hands all over me anytime. But for the love of God, can you please stop with the tickling.”

  I try pulling my hand away, but he won’t have it. “Don’t get me wrong, I love having you touch me.” He presses my hand further into his now rock-hard abs, as they are flexed and prepared for battle. Then he pulls my hand so that my body follows, and I’m straddling him.

  Time ceases to exist as I stare into his beautiful hazel eyes. Today, they look more blue than green around the rim, and the sexiest grin plays at his perfectly kissable lips. Instinctually, I reach out to run my finger along his jaw to feel for myself the perfect amount of stubble that’s not rough or prickly. His large hand rests at my hip, keeping me in place, while the other one reaches out to brush a strand of hair that’s fallen from my braid behind my ear.

  “Hey,” he whispers, and a shiver runs through my spine. “I think we outta get out on the road if you want to learn how to drive without much traffic. I know just the place to go if we want to keep traffic to a minimum.”

  Really? He’s focused on trying to drive. That’s about the last thing I’m interested in doing with Vince at the moment.

  Placing a hand behind my neck, he pulls my face closer to his. “Don’t worry, Syd. I’ve got you.”

  As if he can read my mind, he flips me over, so my back is to the bed, then he kisses me softly. His elbows keep him propped up, the lower part of his hard body slides between my legs.

  Every ounce of sexual tension I felt last night, comes racing back in an instant.

  How the hell does this man get me from zero to sixty like this?

  I don’t just want him. I fucking need him.

  He expertly applies pressure to our kiss that has me practically begging for this to go further. My body tingles, and a pulse pounds at my core. As if he’s been given the secret code to make me needy in a nanosecond, I buck beneath him.

  His large hand brushes from my knee to my core, reading the map to my body perfectly. My sleep shorts leave nothing in terms of a barrier between us and in an instant, his fingers brush my panties to the side.

  His finger slides along my slit, finding my clit with ease to apply just the right amount of pressure. As he kisses his way down my neck, my back bows into my pillow. He somehow manages to pull down my tank and sucks on my exposed nipple. Nipping, sucking. Just as he goes to pull my hardened nipple into his mouth to suck, he repositions his hand at my core, and his finger enters me as his thumb continues to strum my clit. When he presses against my inner wall with a come-hither motion—I am gone.

  Heat explodes up my spinal cord, and electric pulses zip from my toes to the top of my head. Not wanting to wake my roommates, I stifle my scream by biting into his shoulder.

  Vince doesn’t falter or change his pace. He stays right there with me as I enjoy each and every pulse that flows through me. Holy hell, he’s wrecking me completely.

  When I come down from my orgasmic high, his grin is triumphant. “Now that’s a wakeup call, don’t ya think?”

  God. This man.

  All I can do is smile and nod.

  I seriously can’t even string coherent words because all I manage is an approving moan as a sound effect.

  Vince kisses me quickly once more, then jumps to his feet. “I’m gonna jump in the shower. I’ll be out in a few minutes. Then we’d better hit the road.”

  As he turns to walk to my bathroom, the evidence of his arousal is clear by the tent that’s pitched in his sweats. “You know you could let me do something about that.”

  Pointing at his obvious discomfort, I shrug like it’s no big deal.

  But I’ve had an up close and personal encounter with him. I know better. Vince is a big deal.

  “Your witching powers won’t work on me, Syd. If we start that, we may never leave the bed. Now get up and get dressed. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  “Won’t it take you longer than a few minutes?” I reply innocently.

  “Not with the images you just created in my mind,” he teases then shrugs. “Or a lot of cold water. If you keep looking at me like that, I may need both.”

  I don’t get another word, but I do get the view of his glorious backside as he drops his sweats on the floor at the last second, and his perfect ass walks away from me.

  25

  Vince

  “When you hear the engine rev, let out on the clutch. There’s a sweet spot where the gear grips, and you’ll move forward,” I say as I explain to Sydney how to drive a stick. I’ve already shown her how to listen to the engine to know when to shift, but I want to make sure she knows how to start out in first gear.

  “I can hear the difference. Does it feel that way under the pedals?”

  “Yeah. I’ll let you get the hang of it in the parking lot, then we’ll go out to some hills. If you can consistently start on a hill, you can drive this anywhere.”

  “Why is it such a big deal to start on hills?”

  “If you’re on a hill, and you take your foot off the brake with the clutch in, you roll back.”

  Sydney’s confidence waffles a fraction, and I see from the corner of my eye, her hard swallow.

  “Don’t worry, I know the perfect spot to teach you, and you won’t have to worry about rolling into anything. I won’t let you fail.”

  After a few more pointers, I pull over and hop out. “The only way you’ll learn is by doing it. So, you’re up, Syd.”

  I expect her to hop out of the Jeep and meet me halfway but to my surprise, she remains seated in the passenger seat. When I reach her door, I open it as I ask, “What’s wrong?”

  She’s biting on her lower lip, staring out the windshield. Eventually, she admits, “I just don’t want to ruin your Jeep.”
<
br />   “If you only knew how bad Vanessa was at first, you wouldn’t even hesitate. My parents would only buy us a vehicle if we learned how to drive a manual transmission first. Then we could choose. Of course, we put this Jeep through the wringer, but if it survived the two of us, then I’m sure it can take your abuse with ease.”

  Sydney huffs defensively, “I’m not gonna abuse the Jeep on purpose.”

  “Since when do you back down from a challenge?” I hedge.

  Immediately, her shoulders stiffen, and she glares in my direction. “Since never.”

  That’s what I thought. “So… what are you waiting for?” I shrug, knowing this will go one of two ways. She’ll rise to the challenge, or turn her efforts onto me and get pissed.

  “Okay,” she huffs. “Let’s get this show over with,” she grumbles as she hops down from her seat.

  I grab her wrist as she tries to stomp by me and turn her to face me. “Hey, I’m on your side… always. No need to be upset.”

  The tension she’s been holding onto releases with her exhale. “I know. I just don’t like looking like a fool. I may suck at this.” She bites on her lower lip as if she’s contemplating all the things that can go wrong.

  “I don’t see any fools here… so stop. There’s always a learning curve, and not everything comes natural to people. It takes time and effort. We’ve got the time, are you ready to try?”

  “Yeah… let’s get this over with.” Her grimace returns when she thinks I can’t see her.

  She looks sexy as hell when she hops into my Jeep and takes charge of the vehicle. After adjusting the seat and mirrors, she pushes in the clutch with her other foot on the brake and starts the engine. Since I left it in gear, she eases her foot off the brake and tries for the gas. The engine revs. “Slowly release the clutch,” I remind her as she presses the accelerator.

  Like a pro, she finds the sweet spot with ease, and we creep forward. As we get up to speed, the RPMs climb on the tachometer gauge. She hears when it’s time to shift, so she uses the clutch to switch into second gear. It’s a little jumpy as she releases the clutch a bit early, but overall, she’s getting the hang of it.

  When we reach the end of the parking lot, she slows down too fast before reengaging the clutch, causing the Jeep to sputter and stall.

  “Shoot.” Sydney panics and hits the brakes harder than necessary, causing us to rock forward in our seat belts.

  “Don’t worry. This happens,” I encourage. “Just put it in gear and start over as we turn the corner.”

  She gets the Jeep going again and when it’s time to slow down, this time, she downshifts with ease, making the next turn. Granted, we never make it out of third gear, but she’s able to easily toggle between the gears. After a few more trips around the parking lot, she’s ready for the road.

  “Let’s pull out of the lot and hang a right.”

  “You want me to drive this on the road?” Her panic is faint, but I can still hear it. The fact she’s gripping the wheel as if her life depends on it is another tell, but I don’t let her know I’m sensing her stress.

  “We’ll stick to flat streets for now. Promise. Worst-case scenario, I’ll hop out and drive if you get uncomfortable.”

  “Okay…” she draws out with uncertainty but complies.

  We make it to a stretch of road where she’s actually able to get into fifth gear or as I tell her, overdrive. When she’s finally able to cruise, she admits, “Okay, I can do this. It’s not so bad.”

  “I knew you could do it. You think you’re ready to tackle some hills?”

  “Might as well. I’d freak out if I were on my own, and it kept rolling backward.”

  “It still happens to me from time to time, but on the steep hills, you can always use the e-brake as an assist. Seriously though, once you get the hang of it, it won’t be so bad. Trust me.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, she’s adorable as she says on an exhale, “You haven’t steered me wrong so far.”

  “I love that your confidence in me is so unyielding.” My words roll sarcastically off my lips and to my surprise, I’m gifted with her laughter. Maybe she’s finally relaxing.

  I direct her through a neighborhood that has a few hills with stop signs.

  When we get to the first stop, she rolls back a good six feet. Knowing there isn’t a car behind us, I’m not too worried. Though Sydney grips the wheel tighter and lets out an uncomfortable squeak.

  “Remember, you have to use that sweet spot on the clutch to your advantage. It will keep you from going back and forward. Give it more gas and ease off the clutch until you find it.” The engine revs, but we only rock a foot or two then it catches, and we propel forward through the intersection.

  “I did it!” Syd exclaims. Her joyful expression’s infectious.

  When we get to the next sign, she tackles the hill with ease, and I fist pump the air with a “Whoop,” in encouragement.

  This earns me a beautiful eye roll.

  Yeah, Syd’s getting back to herself, and I couldn’t be happier.

  “What do you say to the highway? I think you’re ready to get into some traffic.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks with a raised eyebrow in my direction.

  Shit. Her apprehension’s back, but hopefully it won’t stay for long.

  “It’s the only way you’re going to get through your fear,” I remind her. “But honestly, Syd, you’re ready.”

  Once we’re on the highway, I encourage her to follow it up the gorge. Yeah, it has twists and turns, but it won’t require a lot of shifting. It’s a beautiful afternoon, and we might enjoy the beauty of a drive.

  “So, how did you learn to drive a stick so well?” she asks as she puts it in overdrive and finally relaxes into the seat.

  “My dad took me out long before I could ever legally drive on the road.”

  “Really? Just how old were you?”

  Shit. How old was I? “Um, around thirteen if I had to guess. I might’ve been younger. His friend had a farm in the country, and I drove the farm truck when I helped hay the fields that summer.”

  “Let me guess, you were a natural.”

  “Not at all. The clutch on that truck was touchy as hell. I can’t even tell you how many times I stalled it. But since it was just Dad and his friend, they were patient and kept reminding me I had to learn somehow…” God, that was an amazing day. I’ll never forget how proud Dad was of me when I finally got the hang of it.

  Though the memory is a good one, and my heart aches with how much I miss him, I can see his smile perfectly, and I revel in the memory for as long as I can. It’s weird how you forget the little things when they’re gone. I’ve learned to hold on to the good memories for as long as I can. Someday, I might not be able to remember his laugh, and I’ll hate when that day comes.

  “You okay, Vince?” Sydney’s voice breaks me from my revelry.

  Clearing the lump that’s formed in my throat, I swallow before whispering, “Yeah… I just miss him.”

  “Who?” Sydney’s confusion is clear.

  Fuck. Had I said that last part aloud?

  I’m not prepared for this conversation. But when she reaches out to squeeze my hand, I know I’ll tell her all the same. I just didn’t want to dampen our great day together.

  “My dad,” I admit on an exhale.

  Fuck, this is gonna be harder than I thought.

  As if she can sense there’s a story there, she probes, “What do you mean?”

  Where do I even start?

  Even though I’ve told this story before, I cringe at the thought of her seeing me differently. I don’t want to be that guy—you know the one who’s gone through shit and you never see as the same once you know his backstory. It’s been so nice not having to unload my baggage on her. Staring out at the trees zooming by, I muster up the courage to find the words needed to explain everything. To explain that it’s all my fault.

  Sure, logically, I know it wasn’t. Everyone I know has
told me repeatedly. I’ve been through counseling and logically, I accept the truth. But in times like this, when I miss them more than words can explain, the guilt eats at me.

  “There was an accident right after graduation,” I start, cold and clinical. I’ve told this story enough to know if I stick to the facts, I can get through it without letting emotions take over.

  “Okay…” she draws out as if she’s hesitating for what to say next. God, I don’t want her to see me differently. I love that I’ve been able to be happy and carefree with her. She doesn’t need to walk on eggshells around me due to my past and unexpected emotions.

  Clearing my throat, I find the strength to lay out the facts, so there’s no wonder or hesitation from her.

  “It was the night of graduation actually. I’d gone to the all-night party our school threw, and they were chaperones. Vanessa had stayed for a while, but she got permission to leave early so she could be home to feed Julia. Since she was breastfeeding, and everyone wanted her to be included as much as she could, no one hesitated with her request. Our parents were signed up the four a.m. to eight a.m. shift as chaperones.”

  When Sydney reaches out for my hand to squeeze it, I realize she’s stopped driving, and we’re parked on the entrance to an abandoned driveway. When I meet her eyes, my voice catches, and I’m unable to remain clinical.

  Fuck. Why is this so hard?

  It’s not like I haven’t had years to process this. But grief is a bastard when it comes to creeping in on you. And fuck, I’m fairly certain no amount of time will make telling this story any easier.

  “It’s okay, Vince. If you’re not ready to tell me, you don’t have to.” The fact she knows me well enough to offer me an out makes my broken heart stretch tighter. Knowing she’s here for me brings about the sense of peace I need to get through this. Forcing myself to continue, I pull in a deep breath and begin.

  I’d rather she know the whole story and not draw her own conclusions.

  “They wouldn’t have even volunteered if I hadn’t been there. They were supposed to do the earlier shift, but since they watched Julia until Van came home, they volunteered for the later shift. They just wanted us to experience everything… ya know. They were the best parents I could ever ask for.”