Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol)

by Fiona Cole

  His hands tightened, and he buried his head against my neck, his teeth digging into my shoulder like they had the first time we’d been together, and he came.

  His moans of release sent shock waves down to my nipples and straight to my pussy, still pulsing around his twitching cock.

  I watched our reflection, exhausted and satisfied. I almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back, her hair a mess and sweating, her body panting and glued to the man behind her. I didn’t recognize her, but I wanted to.

  Nico eased out, and a rush of wetness dripped down my thigh, bringing its own mini spasms of excitement. He stumbled back and took me with him, catching me when we fell to the lounger. Kissing me softly, he slipped his fingers between my legs, collecting our cum, only to bring it to my nipple and tweak it.

  The move was simple and beyond erotic. I wanted to be covered by him, and I liked to know he wanted the same.

  “Why did I fight this?”

  “I don’t know, but you better stop. This was not a one-time thing, Verana.”

  I cocked a brow but was too tired to even pretend to be stubborn. “It sure as hell wasn’t,” I agreed, stroking his softening cock, loving the way our cum covered him too. “I want more.”

  “Then more I shall give you.”

  With an energy I didn’t know how he had, he stood, scooping me up, laughing at my yelp of surprise.

  “Let’s try something new.”

  “Oooo, sounds kinky,” I joked.

  “How about a bed?”

  In a bed, with his big body over mine, sounded like everything I’d hoped for.

  “Perfect.”

  Thirty

  Vera

  The next day looked similar to the last, except when Nico climbed into the shower with me and offered to eat me out, I gladly accepted and returned the favor. By the time we finished, the water ran cold, and he said he had to take me back to bed to warm me up.

  Now, we lay on the loungers, the yacht skipping along to our next destination, and this time, I took him up on his suggestion, sunbathing topless. He ordered all staff to stay away from the front deck and muttered about ripping eyeballs out if anyone saw his wife’s breasts.

  I loved it.

  I loved—

  I cut the thought off and shook it away. If my phone worked, I’d call Raelynn, and she’d promptly squeal, demand details, and then reprimand me for being dick-drunk if I even considered thinking those words.

  A warm mouth surrounded my nipple, his rough tongue flicking back and forth. “I love these tits.”

  “Where are we going today?” I asked, keeping my eyes closed, basking in his adoration of my body.

  “Just out to sea for a while and then coming back to the coast a little south.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  His fingers grazed up and down my stomach, circling my belly button. Never touching anywhere important, just moving like he wanted to memorize every inch. I’d stared at his body every second I got and probably knew more than every inch. It made me want to know what lay beyond.

  “How’d you get to K. Rush Shipping?”

  His finger froze a moment before continuing its path. “What do you mean?”

  Finally caving, I turned my head and squinted an eye open to watch him. His hair stretched in all directions from the salty sea and yacht breeze. He looked young and carefree. “You’re young and successful beyond what I can imagine. How did you get here? Was it what you always wanted?”

  “Yes.”

  Rolling my eyes at his short answer, I shoved his shoulder. “Tell me more.”

  “My grandfather owned his own company, and my father worked with him. I learned everything I know from them. Internships over the summer, running mail and coffee before I even reached high school. It’s in my blood. Kind of like how it’s in yours.”

  “You had time for work between all those girls you probably dated.”

  “I worked hard to play hard.”

  “Is that your life motto?”

  “Hardly.”

  “I bet you were the prom king,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “No, I never made it to the actual dance. Got distracted in the limo,” he said with arrogance.

  “Gross.”

  He laughed at my fake gagging noises. “But I was captain of the baseball team.”

  “Ooooo, I bet you looked good in those tight pants.”

  “I looked good in everything.”

  I gave him my most deadpan stare while he waggled his brows.

  “What about you? Prom queen?”

  “Hardly. But I was in control of the committee and set it all up.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  “You’re not the only one who likes to be in charge.”

  “I noticed how much you enjoyed riding me last night. Controlling the pace and how deep I slid inside you.”

  I did. I loved sitting astride his large body while he struggled to find his own control. I’d been powerful—seen.

  Between our banter and his words, heat pooled low in my belly, and I squirmed on the soft cushion of the lounger. But I didn’t want to stop. Each answer revealed a new layer to the image I’d created of Nico. He’d gone from a flat frowning drawing to a 3D image with a heart and soul, and I wanted more.

  “So why start Rush instead of continuing to work with your grandpa? I mean, I can hardly imagine you not being the boss,” I teased. “You like being in control.”

  His lips plucked at my nipple but quickly pulled back—just a taunting peck. “I do. And you love it.”

  “Maybe,” I said, shrugging. “So, tell me.”

  “Like you said, I like being the boss. I like the ins and outs of owning a company and doing it my way. And my family company wasn’t quite what it used to be.”

  “Were any women involved in the company?”

  “Not directly. Mom was the trophy wife your father wanted you to be, except she wanted to be. She loved it, and my father loved that she loved it. Grandma loved art and volunteered at museums to satisfy that need.”

  “Was she an artist? Is that how you learned to draw?”

  “Why do you think I can draw?”

  “I’ve seen your doodles when you’re thinking. They’re quite good.”

  He grunted a non-answer to my compliment. “No, she wasn’t an artist. More of a collector and appreciator. She performed her role of hosting events and charities, but she was whip-smart. She was Grandpa’s sounding board. She was hard when he couldn’t be and soft when he didn’t know how.”

  “She sounds amazing.”

  “She was. Both of them were.”

  I grazed my fingers atop his long roaming ones, offering the slightest comfort, and decided not to dig for more in fear he’d shut down. Talking about those you’d lost rarely set anyone in a good mood. Instead, I moved back to the company. “What happened to your grandpa’s company?”

  Again, his finger froze, and I realized this topic may not be better than the last.

  “Things got hard, and the company dwindled.”

  “I’m sorry, Nico. I couldn’t imagine losing my family company.”

  This time his fingers pulled away completely, and I immediately missed them. Empathy had me wanting to turn and pull him into my arms, but before I could, his fingers returned—this time turning naughty and dipping beyond the edge of my bottoms.

  “What about you, Vera? What made you want to do this?”

  I struggled to focus when he slipped his fingers between my folds, past my clit, and shoved two deep inside.

  “Ungh. I—shit.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Fuck you,” I breathed without any heat. I spread my legs and closed my eyes, trying to focus. “Like you said, it’s in my blood. I wanted to do more than charity functions. I wanted to be useful and part of this company that had dictated so much of our lives. It was my mother’s family company, and I wanted to be more involved, holding on to that piece
of her.”

  “It was in their family for generations, correct? How did your father get it?”

  “He bought it from them. After Mom—” my words cut off when he pinched my clit. “After her, my grandfather passed, and my grandmother didn’t want anything to do with it, so she sold it to him.”

  “But didn’t that go against their traditions?”

  His words barely registered. I rattled off answers about how there were specific conditions in the contract, struggling to think beyond his lips grazing my nipple when he spoke.

  He could have asked me to sign over my soul in that moment and I probably would have done it without hesitation. Anything to keep him going. I whimpered in need when he shifted, climbing over me and kissing his way down my body. His broad shoulders pushed my thighs wide, and he settled in, pressing his tongue against my clit before sliding down and fucking me with it. I lifted my hips, impatient to come.

  “You want control again? You want to ride my face?”

  “I want you, Nico.”

  He bared his teeth like an animal and flipped us, settling my thighs on either side of his head. “Give me your cunt,” he ordered.

  Even with him beneath me and at my mercy, he controlled it with his large hands on my ass. I gripped the back of the chair and slid back and forth across his lips, loving his scruff abrading my sensitive skin. Part of me worried I’d move the wrong way or do it wrong, but when he sucked my bundle of nerves hard, I didn’t care. The water sparkled like diamonds reflecting the sun, and it matched the spots blurring in my eyes.

  The orgasm crashed over me, and I held my breath, chasing the pulsing pleasure to the point of almost blacking out. Soft flicks and sucking kisses brought me back to earth—back to Nico. Always back to Nico.

  I collapsed to the side, and he pulled me in his arms, his face wet with my cum. “Do you want me to grab my towel?”

  “Fuck, no. I want to wear you all day.”

  I blushed, imagining my cum on his lips for everyone to see.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Verana. Your pussy is delicious. Have you ever tasted yourself?”

  “No,” I whispered, holding my breath again, waiting for what he’d do next.

  “That’s a shame. Let’s fix it.”

  He leaned down and pressed his wet lips to mine, and I didn’t hesitate to open my mouth and let his tongue brush inside. A sweet tang burst on my tongue, and I think I was more addicted to the taste of myself on him than just me. I sucked his lips, nibbling them between my teeth.

  “Now do you know why I offered to eat you out every day?”

  “I figured it was just to torture me.”

  “That too.”

  I shoved him, and he laughed, pulling me back into his arms against his heated chest.

  As if he hadn’t just made me see stars, he moved back to the conversation from earlier. “There’s a project with a newer company that Rush Shipping just acquired. I’d like you to take the lead under the guidance of Domenic.”

  “What?” I pressed up against his chest, blinking down at him in shock.

  “I’m not giving this to you because you suck cock like a pro.”

  “Fuck you, Nico,” I laughed.

  He winked. “We do this with lower levels of employees so they can see what it’s like and learn from the managers. I’ve found it encourages them to strive for more. Your resume is beyond what you’re doing at Rush, and you deserve more. I want to give you a chance to prove it.”

  “Nico,” I whispered, his words validating everything I’d worked for. A lump formed in my throat, and I forced myself to swallow it down. All those years of hard work, hoping my father would see me—see I’m capable of more than just a trophy wife, and he never had. But Nico saw it. Nico saw me.

  “It’s not your mother’s company, but it’s still in the shipping world, and maybe that can be a piece you hold on to of her.”

  Tears blurred my vision, and another lump worked its way up. Staring down at this man who came out of nowhere and gave me something I’d always wanted, I knew.

  I loved him.

  Each day he challenged me, and I called it hate, but it also pushed me harder and forced me to grow. He did that for me like no one else had, and I loved him.

  The words begged to be set free, but I couldn’t.

  This marriage wasn’t born out of love, and just because I loved him, it didn’t mean anything had changed for him.

  I shoved the words back down. “Thank you,” I choked out.

  “You deserve it.”

  And that right there was it. I didn’t want it given to me. I wanted to prove myself and have him see I was capable—and he did.

  Worried my lips would open and spew words I wasn’t ready to say, I decided to put my mouth to work in other ways.

  With nothing but the sun and the splash of the waves against the side of the boat, I returned the favor, using my tongue and lips, sucking his cock like a pro.

  And when he filled my mouth with his cum, I swallowed and climbed up his body to let him taste himself on my tongue.

  Anything to hold back the words that I worried would grow too big to hold back.

  I just hoped when they finally broke free, Nico cared enough to let me love him.

  Maybe even more than the five years we agreed on.

  Maybe more like forever.

  Thirty-One

  Nico

  Archer’s name flashed on my screen, and I stepped out of the bedroom to answer it away from Vera.

  “Is it done?” I asked. Vera and I flew home tomorrow, and this takeover was cutting it close.

  “The information you gave me helped, but the hiccup set us back.”

  I cringed, remembering how I’d gotten the information from her. She’d been so lost in pleasure, she’d barely known all the details she’d admitted. But why would she care? I was her husband, and as far as she knew, had everything I could want. Why would she hold back?

  She trusted me.

  I cringed again and took the anger I had for myself out on Archer. “What the fuck does that mean?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  “We need another week.”

  “A week?” I took a deep breath, remembering Vera on the other side of the door. “I have a goddamn company to run, and I’m paying you to get this done on time. I can’t stay gone forever while you pull your head out of your ass.”

  “We didn’t plan on this happening any time in the next five years, so we’re making it work. It’s finally happening, Nicholas. What’s one more week if we get what we want?” When I didn’t answer right away, he faltered. “You do want this, right?”

  I stared at the door like I could see through it and watch Vera getting ready. Guilt closed in on me, and that more than anything was why I wanted this done. Any other time Archer asked me how much I wanted this, I answered without hesitation. Now, I paused and looked for my wife. Now, rather than excitement and thrill rushing through me at the thought of crushing Lorenzo, guilt and second thoughts mixed in with everything else.

  “I-I don’t—”

  “Nicholas,” he cut me off, his tone tipping toward panic. “There’s no going back. We’re on a train going full speed. The only difference is we either crash and burn or pull this off. No matter what you want, when you come back, she will know about your revenge on her father’s company. The only option we have left is we go through it with the company in our hands—or not. But everything is already too late to change.”

  Archer was right, and I cringed at the too-late realization. My heart thudded at the panic of how she would react when she found out. But there was nothing I could do about that now. Like he said, we were moving full force ahead. The least I could come out of this with is the revenge that had been my companion for over a decade. It didn’t ease the guilt or panic or that damn emotion pulsing a fire in my heart, but it was something.

  “I’ll make it happen,” I finally answered. “But one more week. No more.”

  “
One more week.”

  I hung up and dug my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands like I could pull the increasing pressure away from my body. Taking a deep breath, I shook out my limbs, attempting to loosen my muscles. I didn’t want to go in there tense and have Vera asking questions. She’d become oddly good at reading my moods.

  Music slipped through the cracked door of the bathroom, and I followed, pushing the door open to find Vera leaning toward the mirror, applying mascara while she sang along with Pressure by Muse. Her ass swayed side to side, her skirt brushing her calves. I didn’t know where to look first, her juicy bottom, the soft skin of her bare back, or her breasts barely contained in a lacy bra that did nothing to hide her pert nipples.

  “Damn,” I muttered.

  She looked up in the mirror, meeting my eyes and smiling, not missing a beat when the song changed to WTF by Missy Elliot.

  I’d never known who most of these people were as I listened to older alternative and rock music, but her playlists ranged widely in all kinds of music.

  I leaned against the doorjamb and crossed my arms, enjoying just watching her. She put the mascara down and turned to face me, rapping the words and putting her whole body into dancing. She snapped her fingers and moved her arms, puckering her lips with attitude as she moved closer. By the time she stood in front of me, I was half hard and smiling along with her. She grabbed my hands and moved me around until I broke and stood up, giving in to dancing with her.

  “I never took you for a rap kind of girl.”

  “I’m an everything kind of gal. I got moves you’ve never seen.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  She nodded, and I pulled her close, dancing with her. I twirled her out, the soft tendrils escaping the mass of hair piled on top of her head, brushing her cheeks. When I did my own puckered lip face to mimic hers, she burst out laughing, holding her hands to her chest.