by Mj Fields
“Stop being concerned with his heart; I have that covered. Worry about how yours would feel if that man got on that ship.”
“It’s a boat,” I correct.
“No, that’s a boat.” She points to our fishing boat, and I laugh at the irony in our exchange.
I kiss her cheek then look around her at Babička.
She is shielding her eyes from the sun as she looks down the dock.
“Is that …?”
“Stephan?” I ask.
She looks at me like I’m crazy. “Sweet pea, Dědeček passed.” She looks at Mom. “Has she been drinking?”
Mom laughs, and so do I. Now she looks at us both like we are mad.
“That’s Vincent, a friend of Paige’s,” Mom explains.
“Well, he is a beautiful man. Your Dědeček looked an awful lot like him when we were younger. I’d make him more than just a friend if I were you.”
Mom laughs. “He’s trying, and she’s fighting it.”
“He’s not—”
“Paige, go,” Mom insists.
Babička chuckles. “If she won’t, I certainly will.”
I look back toward the end of the dock when I hear footsteps. Pace is coming toward me. When he gets to me, he laughs.
“Least you can do is go talk to the guy, Pea.”
I make a quick excuse. “I have to take them home.”
He gives a quicker solution, handing me the keys. “Lock up when you leave. Use the truck to get home. I’ll take them.”
“Pace—”
“Deal with it, Pea,” he says, wrapping his arm around Babička. “Walk with me?”
Babička looks at him, smiling from ear to ear and nods.
Minutes later, I am standing alone on the dock, watching him, watching me. I think of how Nikki was put off by Abe’s demanding and domineering ways, but now she sees how perfect they are for each other. How Laney pushed away Dominic in her quest to “do it on her own without a man” after a horrible relationship with a cheating manwhore. Then Mel—I hold back a laugh—she was all about finding someone who “did it for her” after several attempts to find a man she was willing to “give it up to.”
I feel so stupid that I thought he was going to ask me to marry him. I blame them. I soooo blame them and their almost unbelievable, near-perfect relationships. Out of all of us, I have always been the one who was the most confident, but he cracks my confidence. Hell, he shatters it.
I have no clue what I’m going to do. But I know he’s still standing there, and I’m still standing here.
I want to tell him he’s a pussy for not walking to me, but I’m also being a pussy, and I’ll be damned if I let that insecurity paralyze me.
I look down at myself and inwardly frown. Overall shorts and flip flops are not Wang and Choos, and yes, they carry my confidence high when it starts to fall. I wish I had them now, but I don’t. Regardless, I hold my head high and walk toward him.
His shoulders square and his back straightens, like he’s preparing for a fight.
“You should consider yourself lucky that I’m tired and have no interest in fighting with you at this moment.”
“That’s a bit of a letdown,” he says matter-of-factly.
“What did you expect, Vincent? That I’d be happy you bought my family’s business? Why didn’t you talk to me about how I may feel about it first?”
“What I expected, Paige, was maybe a fucking thank you for”—he scrubs his hand over a few days’ worth of stubble—“helping?” He ends it like a question.
“Why?”
“Did you not hear me inside? Do you need me to say it again? That fucker doesn’t get to have you. You don’t get to be with any man who drives you to be so fucking insecure that you bullshit your way through being some dominatrix.”
“I’m not insecure,” I defend.
“Fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair. “You really think someone like me, who has spent the past seventeen years of his life protecting and ensuring the safety of others, can’t read a person?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I ask, “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
He clenches his hands then releases them at his sides repeatedly, his jaw taut. “Even the most secure person fears something, feels vulnerable sometimes, and stays the hell away from what could expose both.”
“So, what do you fear, Vincent? What makes you vulnerable?” I ask, pushing buttons yet still desperately wanting to know, frantically needing to know.
When he pulls his sunglasses down, shielding his dark eyes, I reach up and grab his button-up and shake him slightly.
He groans and breathes harder, shallower.
In seconds, he swoops me up and stomps toward his ship, easily stepping across the distance between the dock and the ship with his long legs.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I squeal. Yes, squeal when he maneuvers us before taking us down the stairs and instantly drops me on a very impressive bed.
“You want to know me, Paige?”
I nod as he starts to take off his shirt.
“You, Vincent.” I try to sound convincing. “Not your dick.”
A small smile dusts his face as he shrugs it off.
“I know you, Paige, because I’m not much different”—he stretches his neck—“I have hidden fears and vulnerabilities, as well. I’ve never let them stop me. In fact, I pretend they don’t exist, and in doing so, my life becomes so much better.”
He turns around, and I see his bare back where light scars crisscross against a great deal of it.
I cover my mouth as a sob erupts, and then I feel like I’m going to get sick.
Chapter 11
In My Arms
Vincent
“For fuck’s sake, this certainly wasn’t expected,” I grumble as I throw my shirt back on.
Did she not see them at Queens House? I ask myself, trying to remember.
It was dark and, unlike most sexual experiences, I spent most of my time on my fucking back, but …
My thoughts are disrupted by the sound of vomiting, which totally screws with my fucking ego.
Well, I tell myself as I head toward the stairs, you’ve already fucking given it your all. If she’s not into this, then I’ll certainly make her regret fucking with me. After all, I hold all the damn cards.
I see her leaning over the side of the boat, heaving, and feel a tinge of guilt for being annoyed by her.
I walk quickly to her and pull back her braids.
“Who did that to you?” she pants out before throwing up again. Actually, she throws up several times, and now I feel awful.
I was ready to tell her until receiving the reaction she’s having.
“I’m not sure I care to discuss it any further, Paige.” I hand her a tissue.
Wiping her mouth, she turns and looks at me. She’s fucking green.
“Are you …?” I pause because I would really like to know where the fuck I stand with her on this venture before adding anything else that may throw her for a loop, but fuck her if she is and didn’t tell me. “Are you fucking pregnant?”
“What?” she gasps then immediately turns around and throws up again.
When she’s finished, she makes her way to the gate to exit the boat.
“Wait just a damn minute, Paige.”
Before I can grab her, she’s on the dock and nearly running toward the marina. When I catch up to her, she nearly falls.
I grab her by the bicep, and she whimpers, “Please,” as she pulls to move forward. With her arm still in my hand, she walks into the marina and over to the couch where she collapses in a pile.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you need a doctor?”
“No,” she huffs, trying to catch her breath. She’s on all fours, and I swear I’m about to just take her ass, as promised, and leave. I’m pissed, but not that much of an asshole.
She grips the arm of the couch and one of her feet touches the ground.
&
nbsp; I have no idea what to do for her. None. And yeah, I’m freaked the fuck out.
When my phone rings, I see the name Pace and answer it.
“She ask you to dinner?”
“No,” I answer.
“She was supposed to ask you to dinner.”
“I’m not too sure she’s going to be hungry anytime soon.”
Pace laughs. “Did you take her on your boat?”
Not that it’s any of his business, but whatever; he seems to be in my corner, so fuck it.
“Yes.”
“How long did she last?” He laughs again.
“Not too fucking long.” I see no humor in this, but again, I’m fucking trying.
“She turn pea green?”
“Yes.”
“She make it outside before she started throwing up?”
He’s laughing and pissing me off. This isn’t funny, not at all.
I say nothing.
“She’ll be fine in half an hour or so. Pea always is. See you both in an hour.”
He hangs up before I can decline … again.
Her breathing has evened out, and her face is no longer buried in the cushion. She turns her head and looks up at me.
“Who did that to you?”
I refuse to answer her until she answers me.
“Are you pregnant?”
“Pea,” she sighs out. “Like the color of a pea. I turn that color anytime I’m on a boat in an enclosed place. I get seasick.” She pushes herself to a seated position. “Imagine that, being the daughter of a fisherman and getting sick every time you’re out at sea.”
When I sit down next to her, she does the damnedest thing. She leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder and looking up at me.
“Tell me who hurt you.”
“The men who did this to me didn’t hurt me; they made me stronger,” I tell her.
She takes in several shallow breaths then says, “I want names.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to tell Sabato, and he’s going to do whatever he does.” She pauses and leans forward, holding her stomach.
Then I do the damnedest thing. I rub her back.
She ends up with her head on my lap, and I end up hard.
She sighs. “You’re really turned on right now?”
I lift one shoulder and nod.
“How?”
I shake my head. “No idea. You smell like vomit, you’ve been acting bitchy, but then sweet. I certainly shouldn’t be.”
She tries to sit up, but I hold her still.
“Your brother said half an hour and you’d be fine. Stay put.”
“I smell.” Her nose crinkles up in disgust.
“So what?”
Her eyes widen slightly. “It’s embarrassing.”
“What’s embarrassing is my cock is stone even when you smell and have acted like a brat.”
She closes her eyes and sighs, relaxing against my lap again.
“Your dick makes for an awful pillow.” Eyes still closed, she smirks.
“Deal with it. I have to deal with your current state.” I take one of her braids and rub my fingers over the end where her hair is loose.
“I’m supposed to ask you to come to dinner.”
“I know. Pace called.”
“He should mind his own business,” she huffs.
“Well, since I’m now directly involved in his business, I guess he feels it’s all right. He’s also your brother; I’m sure he’s a bit protective of you.”
“Do you have sisters or brothers?” she asks, rolling to her back and looking up at me.
I shake my head. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“How would you not …?” She stops talking and begins to sit up.
I wrap my arm around her upper chest to hold her in place. “You’re still a bit green; stay still.”
She rolls her eyes. “I stink.” She pushes at my arm, and I allow it.
Standing in front of me, she looks confused.
“I’m going to shower.”
I nod.
“Brush my teeth.”
I nod again.
“Then, if you want to go to dinner at my family’s house that’s nothing like Valentina’s, definitely nothing like Dominic and Laney’s, nowhere near—”
“It’s a home, Paige. Be happy you have one.”
“Vincent? Who did that—”
“Go shower, Paige.”
“Because I stink?”
I nod. “Yes.”
But that’s not why. It’s because I’m not sure if I give a damn that she smells a little like vomit, because the reality is, regardless, I want to make her come all over my face.
I watch as she walks to the back, opens a door, and then heads up the stairs. Then I stand and adjust my cock.
Trying to force myself to give an actual fuck about this place, knowing my main objective is currently upstairs naked, showering, I walk behind the counter and see an appointment book. I flip it open, finding a paperclip securing several pages together. Today’s date is displayed with three cancellations. I scratch my head, trying to will myself to give a fuck. I don’t. Then I close the thing and walk to the bottom of the stairs.
I grab the door jamb, trying to physically hold myself back, and then decide fuck it. Taking the stairs three at a time, at the top, I look around. It’s huge, open, in desperate need of updates, but it’s clean.
Clean.
I see three doors. One is open with the light on. I hear water running.
She’s in there.
Unbuttoning my shirt, I walk toward the open door, seeing her clothes are in a pile just over the threshold.
I push the door the rest of the way open as I unbutton my pants and push them down, along with my boxer briefs. Then I bend down to pull them off and hear the shower curtain move. I don’t look up until my pants are off and I step out of them.
Her eyes are wide and hungry, just like my cock.
As I step closer, she steps farther in, welcoming me.
I grab the body sponge that is in her hand and visibly watch goosebumps climb up her arm as I pull on it slightly for her to release it. She shakes her head and pulls it back slightly. Then she lifts it, sliding it across my collarbone as her wide, hungry eyes soften and she steps closer, closing the gap between us.
She runs the sponge across my pecs, and I close my eyes because this, this feels so fucking good. My chest warms from the inside as she rubs down my abs, then up again, slowly moving the sponge up my shoulders. Next, she pushes up on her tiptoes to scrub the back of my neck.
Her breath smells like mint, her nipples press against my chest, and my cock rests against her stomach. I want to kiss her, eat her, fuck her, come in her, but this, this feels really damn good, too.
I don’t ever remember a time when someone washed my body. Hell, I never even got into the whole massage thing like everyone else I know did.
I reach out and grab the end of her braids and take off the little rubber bands. Then I work my fingers into her hair to release it from those damn things. She moans when my fingers work her scalp. I tug her hair so her head tips back and the water showers down on her.
This is not helping my hard-on, I think as I watch water run from her head, down her neck, her shoulders, and over her fucking tits. Suddenly, I’m thirsty, thinking about how sexy it was drinking wine from them.
Water will have to do.
I bend down and take one nipple in my mouth while using my hand to knead the other, giving that side a tweak and a tug simultaneously, mimicking me sucking her nipple.
She whimpers, and her breaths become labored. I know she’s worked up enough that I can set her off easily and take what I have been craving since that fucking night.
I let her tit fall from my mouth, and she moans in protest. Then I grip her hips and push her against the wall before sinking to my knees, lifting one of her legs and burying my fucking face between them. I start feasting on her cunt.
She thrusts her hips and tangles her fingers into my now drenched hair.
I release her hips, knowing she will take what she wants, and I will learn more about what it takes to get her there.
Reaching up for her tits, I grip them hard, inwardly scolding myself. I start to release them when she covers my hand with hers and squeezes harder.
Fuck yes.
I look up at her while still licking and sucking every slick fold, feeling her body tense and shake. She moans then cries out as I lick and suck every fucking delicious part of her cunt. I want to know how to get her off in seconds, and I want to know how to make her beg for a release only I can give her.
Over and over, I repeat every fucking move and take note of every fucking reaction I get, branding it into my memory so that I am a walking, fucking Wikipedia entry for Paige Arnesen’s cunt on a fucking members-only database where I’m the one and only member.
“Vincent, please,” she begs, grinding her bare pussy against my face.
I shove my tongue deep inside, feeling her walls contract around it while releasing one of her tits and rubbing my thumb quickly up and down over her clit until she comes harder than she did in that fucking dungeon.
Her body is trembling as she leans back.
I quickly capture her ass in my hands, needing to keep her pussy against my face. Leaning forward, I ensure it stays put while she leans against the shower wall.
Her eyes are closed as she blindly searches for the knob to turn off the water, her tits bouncing a bit with each move she makes.
Rubbing my nose back and forth, inhaling her post-orgasm smell, I watch her inhale as a small smile forms on her face.
Leaning back on my heels, I only just realize the tub has filled, nearing my hips.
When she finally opens her eyes, she looks at my lips, then down to my erection.
I force myself to push myself up, ignoring my need, and step out.
“Vincent?”
“We have places to go.” Taking a towel off the rack, I turn around and hold it open for her. “Come on.”
Stepping out, she eyes me skeptically. “You don’t …?”
“I’ve dreamed of eating your pussy again since the moment my mouth left it last. You’ll come back here after dinner so I can bury my cock inside you.”
