With the deeper angle, I felt my dick hitting her swollen g-spot with every thrust, and brought my hands to hold onto her hips when Victoria began to unravel. Her fingers were white from holding on tightly as she held her body raised and her legs straight, searching manically for her release. The raw strength of her body, and the look of amazement and pure satisfaction on her face as her orgasm rippled through her, coupled with the rippling and pulsing of her pussy around my cock as she came, ignited my own release, and I came hard and long, pumping quickly in and out of her as I milked our orgasms until there was nothing left. I collapsed, exhausted yet sated, careful not to hurt Victoria, but not yet ready to leave her slick heat.
I brought my lips to her neck, nuzzling and licking her gently, as I listened to our hearts gallop wildly in sync, and I thanked the yoga gods for the best sex of my life.
Chapter 12 ~ Victoria
I stretched slowly, seeing the bright evidence of sunlight behind my eyelids, but not ready to feel the intrusive light. The feelings of tenderness made me smile, as I remembered all of the reasons why I was sore. The satin of the sheets soothed my skin, and I realized that I was still naked. I’d never slept naked a day in my life. The thought made me smile wider.
I realized I was alone in the bed, so I forced my eyes to open, and surveyed the room.
Everything looked the same. My bedroom was still immaculate. Everything in its proper place, looking just as it did every other morning … but nothing was the same. I was different. No man had ever made me feel the way that Brock had last night. So cherished, yet so thoroughly ravished.
I eased my way out of bed, still feeling deliciously sleepy, and walked to my bureau to get one of my silk nightgowns. I slipped it over my head, then left the room to find Brock. As I entered the hallway, a spicy smell wafted through the air, so I followed my nose to the kitchen.
I stopped at the entryway, leaning against the door to stare at Brock, who hadn’t yet heard my approach. He was dressed in yesterday’s clothes, hair perfectly mussed, standing at my counter as he chopped something on the board in front of him. Something sizzled in the pan on the stovetop, and strains of Pearl Jam played in the background.
When he put the knife down and turned to add something to the frying pan, I tiptoed softly up behind him and wrapped my arms around him. I pressed my cheek to his back, closing my eyes as his hands came up to touch mine. He turned in my arms, and when my cheek rested on his chest, he brought his arms up to hold me close.
“Good morning,” he said, right before I felt his lips touch the crown of my head.
“Morning,” I murmured, snuggling in a bit to hold him closer. As I felt the cotton of his shirt, I flashed back to the feel of his naked chest beneath me. He had a smattering of chest hair, which, as it lowered, tapered down to a happy trail. I’d never been with a man with chest hair before. In fact, I knew some of my boyfriends had shaved their chests so they’d be hairless … But there was something about it that was so manly, so virile, that the feel of it had driven me wild.
The strangest part of all of it was that I wasn’t even embarrassed. Not by how turned on, and yes … vocal, I’d been the night before, but also by the fact that I was happy that Brock was still here this morning. There was something about him that put me at ease, and I knew, no matter what side of me was shown, that I wouldn’t be rejected.
“Tori,” Brock said softly, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Yes?”
“I don’t want the food to burn.”
“Okay,” I replied simply, pulling away and going up on tiptoe to brush my lips against his, before letting him go.
He didn’t turn back to the food right away. Instead, he stood there, looking down on me with a pleased grin.
“You’re sweet after sex,” he said when I raised an eyebrow, questioning why he was staring. I flushed with pleasure at his words, melting a bit when he bent to kiss me below the ear and added, “I like it.”
Still smiling, I walked over to the Keurig to make myself a cup of coffee while I waited to taste the wonderfully smelling breakfast that Brock was making. I settled against the counter to watch him work, and when I saw him pick up a small can and begin to open it, I asked, “Where did you get that? I’m sure it didn’t come from my pantry.”
“I ran out to a Mexican market this morning, to get the stuff I needed for the chilaquiles,” Brock answered as he shredded what looked like Monterey Jack cheese.
He had? Wow, I must have been sleeping like the dead. I had no idea he’d been up long enough to go shopping, come back, and be almost finished making breakfast.
“I can’t wait to taste it,” I said, right as my stomach growled. I looked down and pressed my hand to my stomach, willing it to be quiet, as embarrassment flushed my skin.
“I can tell,” Brock said with a chuckle, and when he leaned over to kiss my lips, his mouth firm and needy on mine, I forgot all about my embarrassment. He pulled back and asked, “Food’s almost done, can you grab the plates?” I nodded dreamily and went about accomplishing the task.
When we were once again seated at my table, plates heaping with homemade tortilla chips, smothered in a spicy red sauce, covered in melted cheese, and topped with fried eggs and avocado, I tried to covertly turn my eyes to Brock to see how he was eating the dish. Was I supposed to use a knife and fork? My hands? I wasn’t sure … So I watched as he used his fingers to eat the first chip, then picked up his knife and fork to cut the egg.
Mimicking his moves, I brought the first chip to my lips, and groaned with pleasure when the spice from the sauce mingled with the cheese and the crunch from the chip.
“You like it?” Brock asked, his fork raised with his next bite. His face looked eager, like he was nervous about my answer. I remembered that he’d said this was a dish his mother used to make, and I thought it was sweet that he wanted me to like it.
“Mmmmm,” I mumbled, wanting to express my pleasure without talking with food in my mouth. Brock smiled broadly at me, and once I swallowed, I assured him, “It’s absolutely delicious! It’s like nachos for breakfast.”
He laughed out loud at my analogy, and dug into his breakfast wholeheartedly, the smile still on his lips.
We are in silence for a while, enjoying our food. When Brock was almost done he took a sip from his coffee cup, then broke the silence.
“So, should I expect you in the office on Monday?”
I looked up at him, surprised, and suddenly nervous.
“Monday?” I asked, my belly dipping at the thought. “I, ah … I need to hire a crew, and order the furniture and stuff…”
“I get that you need to put in orders, which is why I figured you could use our phones and computers to do it. And you don’t have to worry about trying to find a crew. You’re just starting out, so you don’t have those kind of contacts yet. I have plenty of guys that are waiting to pick up jobs, or are always eager to pick up extra cash. You can use them, and if you like any of them, I’m sure you’d have guys willing to help out on your next job too,” Brock said reasonably, not realizing that he’d just sent my nervous system into overdrive.
“Next job?” I practically stuttered.
“Yeah,” he responded as if it were a given. “If you find that you enjoy redecorating my place, I’m sure you’d have no trouble finding other jobs. Shit, just my clients alone would probably get you started out right. I get lots of new business owners that hire me to paint, if I tell them I know a good decorator, and tell them you did my offices, your work will speak for itself.”
“You’re way ahead of me here,” I said nervously, as everything he was saying slowly sunk in. He was talking about me running my own business, with clients and employees, and all I’d been thinking of was helping to make his vision come to life.
Seeming to understand that I was reaching panic mode, Brock held up his hands and said, “No pressure, Tori, just take the time to think about it. I’m sorry, sometimes I get excited and let my ideas run a
way with me. I didn’t mean to freak you out. Let’s just start simple … You can come by on Monday, we’ll give you a desk and computer to work from, and you can set out in picking some of my guys for your crew, and figure out how you want to manage the renovation. Sound good?”
“Yeah,” I replied, my mind still reeling. “I can do that.”
“Okay, well, since you’re already a little freaked, I might as well ask you the other thing I wanted to bring up.” The expression on Brock’s face was part sly and part hopeful, and one hundred percent adorable. I thought briefly that there is no way I’d be able to say no to him when he made that face, no matter what he asked.
I was wrong.
“I want you to go to Cal and Shelly’s baby shower with me next weekend,” he said, dropping a bomb that caused my stomach to drop, not just to my knees, but to the floor.
“No,” I said, quickly and firmly.
Brock chuckled at my swift answer, bringing his hand up on the table to cover mine. He rubbed his finger along it in a sweet caress, his face turning tender, and pleaded, “Please … I’m a man. A man who’s been invited to a couple’s baby shower, and there’s no way I can get out of it. You wouldn’t make me go into that situation alone … Would you?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. He looked so offended at the mere thought of attending a baby shower, but there was no way I could give in to him on this.
“I’m sorry, Brock, but I can’t. Cal, Shelly, TJ, and Sasha … they all hate me,” I said, hoping that he would understand where I was coming from.
“They don’t hate you, I bet they just don’t know you,” Brock countered.
“They’ve known me for years, Brock. I can promise that I know their feelings toward me better than you do. There is no love lost between us. We are very different people and we just don’t get along.”
“Maybe if you give them a chance to get to know you, and you make an effort to get to know them, things would be different,” he replied, still trying to state his case.
“So what if I did, and we were able to get along, that still leaves Scott and Gaby. They would be there, and we would be there, and it would just be totally awkward. I mean, it’s embarrassing enough that he broke off our engagement, twice. I don’t think I need his new relationship flaunted in front of me.”
Brock clenched his jaw, thinking about his words before replying.
“I get the awkwardness, but after a few moments, it would go away. And I get that it sucks that things didn’t work out with you and Scott, but you have nothing to be embarrassed about; relationships fail all the time. And he broke it off with you before he got together with Gaby, and although I wish I could say the same … Shit happens. Gaby would never flaunt anything in front of you, and I can guarantee that she will not treat you differently than she treats anyone else.”
His defense of Gaby put my back up, pissed me off, and, I can’t lie, hurt a little bit.
“You can’t guarantee anything, and it doesn’t matter anyway, because I’m not going!” I shouted the last as I stood and angrily left the room.
Brock caught me by the arm before I could get to far, turning me and bringing my body roughly against his.
“Don’t walk away from me,” his voice was low and angry, “and don’t storm off like a child when all I did was ask you a simple question. You don’t want to go with me, fine, who gives a fuck? But for Christ’s sake, we should be able to discuss it like adults.”
I struggled to break from his grasp, my hand itching to slap his face, and seethed, “Don’t call me a child.”
“Then don’t act like one,” he bit back, then before I could blink, his mouth was on me. My lips, my cheek, my jawline … he was everywhere. Hands, lips, tongue. He backed me slowly toward my chaise, then turned and sat, laying his legs out on the lounge and pulling me down to straddle his lap. When I came into contact with the hard bulge in his pants, I rocked back and forth, tangling my hands in his hair as all of the anger boiled over and turned to a passion so hot, I thought it would burn me alive.
His hands ran up my legs and under my nightgown, and groaned loudly when his finger met the naked flesh underneath. When his fingers found me and began to coax my body to get even wetter, I pushed my hands between us to undo his fly and feel his silky hard flesh. I helped his dick spring free, and was so overcome and wild with need that my only thought was the pleasure that I knew he could bring, so I raised up and lowered myself fully on his dick.
I was vaguely aware of the fact that Brock was lifting his hips in order to push his jeans down his hips, leaving only his boxers in place, but the movement only caused me to lose it a little more. I grabbed onto his shoulders and rode him as if I were born to do so. Already, I could feel the orgasm building in me, and I was on a mission to reach it and have it overcome me. I felt Brock’s lips on my throat as his hands came to my hips and pushed me even harder against him with each thrust, causing his dick to reach deeper and deeper inside of me.
Brock’s tongue traced my earlobe, and when he said roughly, “Fuck me harder, Tori,” my orgasm ripped through me, and I rode him until he grunted against my neck and I felt his release, even as my body began to float back to reality.
I dropped my forehead to his shoulder, resting there as I tried to catch my breath.
My breathing had almost evened out when Brock said, “Fuck, baby, we didn’t use protection.”
I pulled my head up slowly, bringing my head up so I could look at him, his head resting back against the lounge, worried eyes on me.
“We’re okay, I’m on the pill,” I replied, and when his face expressed his relief, I leaned in to kiss his swollen lips. “Sorry I was such a bitch.” This I said softly. It was always hard for me to admit when I was wrong, and I hated to think that Brock would think badly of me.
“Hey, shit happens, babe, and we’re going to disagree,” he said, bringing a hand up to smooth back a piece of hair that had fallen in my face. “I get where you’re coming from, Tori, and I won’t force you to do something you don’t want to, but I think you all just got off on the wrong foot with each other. You didn’t belong with Scott. You knew it, and they knew it. I like being with you, and I like being with them, and I’d like them to see you for who you are. I’m proud of you, and I wanted to show you off … That’s all.”
His words ran over me like silk, and I swear, I melted a little more every time he spoke. I searched his eyes for an ulterior motive, but all I saw was sincerity, so I brought my hands up to his face, cupping it as I leaned in to give him one more kiss, and said, “Okay, I’ll go with you.”
Chapter 13 ~ Brock
It had been the craziest fucking week, in the best possible way.
Victoria had come to the office, bright and early Monday morning, her arms overloaded with papers and catalogs. I’d set her up across from Brady, and she’d been working her ass of to get everything ready for the redecoration. It hadn’t been a hardship, seeing her beautiful face every day, but I’d kept my word and acted strictly professionally at work. We’d both been busy, so we hadn’t had a chance to get together outside of work since the weekend, but that was being remedied tonight. She was coming over to my place, and having dinner with me and my brothers.
I’d finally had my meeting with Mr. Brandt, and was excited at the prospect of working with him. He’s insinuated that if everything went well with this job, he’d push more business my way. I was thrilled to have landed the project, and at the prospect of growing my business even more.
With Victoria on site, and bringing my team up to speed on the Brandt project, I hadn’t had time to talk to Cal or Shelly about my plus one for the shower. I figured, even though it was being thrown by Sasha and Gaby, I needed to speak personally with Shelly to give her a heads up. That was why, instead of grabbing a bite to eat with Victoria, I was headed into the bank.
I’d been there a number of times, I used that bank for O’Malley’s, after all, so I knew where Shelly’s office was. I made m
y way down the hallway, pausing when I saw her on the phone. She looked up when my shadow fell across the room, smiling and holding up one finger, before gesturing to the chair in front of her.
“Sounds good, talk to you soon,” she said with a smile, standing as she prepared to hang up the phone.
Pregnancy looked good on her. Her long brown hair was silky and full, her skin shone with happiness, and her rounded belly was accentuated by the flowing dress she wore. There was no doubt about it, Shelly was a happy and beautiful woman. I was glad that she and Cal had been able to work through the problems in their marriage. Their relationship seemed stronger for it. And, Lord knew, they were both stoked about becoming parents.
“Brock,” Shelly said in greeting as she rounded her desk. “It’s so good to see you.”
I stood and bent to accept her hug and kiss on my cheek.
“It’s good to see you too,” I replied sincerely. “How are you and the baby feeling?”
She brought her hand up to caress her swollen stomach and said happily, “We’re wonderful.” Shelly leaned back on the edge of her desk, then looked at me curiously and asked, “What brings you by?”
I’d only ever been in to discuss business. Shelly handled my account for O’Malley’s, and we always scheduled appointments. I wasn’t surprised that my drop in made her curious.
“I wanted to talk to you about your baby shower,” I began, thinking I’d never in a million years thought I’d utter that sentence. “You said it’s for couples, right?”
Shelly looked at me, a small smile playing on her lips.
“You want to bring Victoria.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yeah,” I replied, taken aback that she’d already known.
“Cal told me that you were dating her after poker night. He explained what you’d said, that you really seemed to like her, and that she was going to be working for you,” Shelly responded, filling in the blanks. “If you’re asking if it’s okay for you to bring her … Of course it is, anyone you bring would be welcome. But, I have to say, with the way things have always been between us, I doubt she’ll come.”
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