Can't Buy Your Love

by Lockwood, Tressie

  Owen indicated the grocery bag on the counter. She spotted a container of eggs among other things. “Ella invited me to brunch. I agreed on the condition that I make it.”

  “Goodness, will the matchmaking never end?”

  He put the broom and dustpan back where he found them in the hall closet. “Did you say something?”

  Vanity glared at him. “What kind of work do you do?”

  “Sales.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Sales?”

  He chuckled. “Why does it sound like you don’t approve? I work for a company that develops renewable energy products.”

  “Oh.”

  “And you?”

  What she really wanted to ask him was if Melinda lied. Her instincts told her the woman didn’t want to let him go and therefore pretended they still had something going. At the same time, their relationship had nothing to do with her. If she stuck to her guns, Owen’s love life would make no difference. The one problem—his attractiveness.

  “I am creative director of my small software company. I mean I don’t own it. I’m just the help, but it pays very well, and with experience I’m gaining there, I can move up and go just about anywhere.”

  In the act of unpacking the bag, he froze staring at her. “Your eyes sparkle when you speak about your job, such big beautiful brown eyes.”

  Vanity blushed. “Don’t.”

  “Why? It’s true. Do you love it?”

  She blinked. “Love what?”

  “Your job.”

  “I…” Somewhere in the house Aunt Ella turned on music, and Bing Crosby began singing “White Christmas.” The woman never played anything like Mariah Carey’s “O Holy Night,” somewhat old but not as old as Bing. “I like it because it pays my bills and gives me plenty of extra to do whatever I want. Plus I have nice savings.”

  “Security is important.” He dropped his voice low, and Vanity clenched her hands in front of her.

  “Everybody needs security. So what?” She stood and stomped past him to go out the side door. Owen didn’t follow, so she walked around to the front of the house and leaned on the wall, arms folded across her chest. An SUV rolled along the street, and the passenger waved. Vanity raised a hand with halfhearted effort.

  “Hi, Happy Holidays,” another neighbor called as she hopped into her vehicle.

  “Same to you,” Vanity shouted back. The people here sure were friendly.

  She stiffened when the screen door next to her squeaked. “Will you sulk out here or help me cook?”

  “I thought you were treating us.” She bit back a smile.

  He reached for her hand and tugged her inside the house. “No, you’re ladle girl.”

  “Ah, what?”

  When they reached the kitchen, he placed a wooden spoon in her hand. “You’ll be stirring the pancake batter and pouring it onto the griddle.”

  Vanity took the time to wash her hands and then accepted the task. “Fine. But tell me one thing. Are you gay?”

  Owen choked on his laughter. “No, trust me I am not, and if you knew the things you were doing to me wearing those tight jeans with that round ass, you would be convinced of the fact.”

  “Owen! You didn’t just say that.”

  “I did.” He moved up behind her and kissed her neck. Vanity told herself to move away, but she stayed put. A little flirting didn’t hurt anything, and well he did lift her mood. Maybe she could have a bit of fun with him before she left. He splayed his hands over her hips and raised her up to her tiptoes as if she weighed nothing. Vanity grabbed his wrists and wiggled to get free. She fought a losing battle. The man’s strength wasn’t to be matched by the likes of her.

  “You’re going to burn the bacon,” she warned.

  He chuckled and lifted her a little higher. She felt his cock, stiff and hard against her ass. Okay, he is so not gay.

  “Owen.”

  “I’ll let you go when you agree to see a movie with me tonight.”

  “That’s blackmail.”

  “So you agree?”

  She growled at him. “Fine.”

  Brunch turned out to be delicious. Bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, and blueberry pancakes stuffed Vanity’s stomach. After they washed dishes together and Aunt Ella wandered off muttering something Vanity was sure she didn’t want to hear the details of, Owen offered her a hand.

  “Come on. We can walk to work off some of the food.”

  She hesitated. “It’s chilly.”

  “You must be used to colder weather farther north. Besides, if it gets to be too much, I will hold you in my arms.”

  “Uh-huh, so you can cop a feel again.” She laughed and ran to get her jacket. When Owen took her hand as they started out the door, she let him. They strolled in silence for a long while, and Vanity took in the neighborhood. Aunt Ella lived in an area nice enough to leave her door unlocked, even though Vanity didn’t think that was a good idea. Vanity’s apartment complex was situated in a great area as well, crime being the lowest in her county of all those in Maryland. Police cars and ambulances flew through her parents’ neighborhood on a regular basis. One didn’t have to leave a door unlocked to fear theft on that side of town.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Vanity glanced up from watching her feet when Owen spoke. At first an automatic denial of anything important came to her lips, but she changed her mind. Owen’s patience and kindness, his undaunted determination to cheer her up during a time of year when she tended toward depression made her grateful to him. Discussing deeper topics than the weather made her blurt, “My parents made me hate Christmas.”

  Owen didn’t appear shocked, which confirmed Aunt Ella told her business. She tried tugging her hand from Owen’s, but he stroked a thumb over her skin, and she lost the will to pull away.

  “So many times I hoped we would have enough food to eat or have clothes and shoes for school, but they drank up the money. Then, at Christmastime, I was stupid and naive enough to believe my father when he would promise to buy me presents, and that this year things would be different.”

  Owen squeezed her hand. “Were they?”

  “No, not really. Sometimes he would manage to get one or two thrift store items, but that was because he skipped paying the electric bill. So Christmas was spent in the dark, or we would go over to Aunt Ella’s house so we wouldn’t freeze. My mother refused to allow Aunt Ella to buy me anything because she said that’s what her and my dad were for. Yeah, right. Anyway, that went on until I turned fourteen, and then the state stepped in and took me from them. They put me with Aunt Ella until I turned eighteen. She moved down here and invited me to come along, but I refused. I wanted to live on my own terms, to make something of myself, and I have.”

  When Owen shook her hand, she realized she gripped so tight the absence of blood left his knuckles white. She let go.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He raised a hand and stroked her cheek. Vanity turned her head away, and he let the caress fall away. “You don’t talk about it much, do you?”

  “No.” She gave a small, forced laugh. “I bet I should get therapy. I admit I haven’t forgiven them, and maybe I never will. Sometimes Aunt Ella tries to get me over there for one reason or another. We live in the same state, but I haven’t seen either of them since the day I left. I spoke with my mother on the phone once or twice.” She peered at him out of the corner of her eyes. “You would probably say I’ll regret it someday and that I should give them a chance. Maybe they changed.”

  “Don’t assume.” For the first time, she heard his irritation, but it disappeared from his expression as quickly as it surfaced. Vanity didn’t miss the way he clenched his hands into fists before he stuffed them into his pockets. “To allow a child to go hungry for your own selfish needs is unforgivable. Children are everything.”

  On impulse, Vanity rubbed his back. “I appreciate the concern. Thanks. I’m fine now. Like I told you, I’m doing well for myself.
I worked to put myself through school, and I have a great position. I buy whatever I want, and I never go hungry. Shoot, I’m surprised I’m not huge the way I eat, but I’m all right.”

  His gaze slipped over her figure, sending shockwaves of lust straight to her core. “You’re more than all right.”

  “When does Jamie come home?” Damn it, why did she ask him that? The question sounded suggestive. She did not want to give the man ideas.

  “On Sunday.” He grinned and took her hand to kiss the back of it. “Would you like to keep me company until then?”

  “Uh, don’t you have to work?”

  “Time off like you. I take it every year to spend more time with Jamie.”

  Vanity sighed. “You really love him, don’t you? From what I’ve seen you’re a good dad.”

  The shadow that passed over his face didn’t match the compliment she gave him, but he nodded and thanked her. Vanity thought his situation with his son merited more conversation, but she didn’t want to pry. Just as he waited for her to be ready to share, she would wait for him.

  Chapter Four

  Vanity sat in Owen’s car, and they had just turned onto her aunt’s and Owen’s street. All she had to do was tell him to bypass her aunt’s house and to park in his driveway. He would get the message. Hesitating about her decision all evening, allowing him to touch her and kiss her after the movie must have given him an idea of where they were headed, but sleeping with Owen didn’t ring with the same tone as her previous experiences. He had the potential to make her care about him, and that meant trouble. If she could find strength to deny her desires, she could thank him for the movie and tell him she had a great time. Then she could walk into her aunt’s house and shut the door behind her.

  Vanity licked her lips when Owen slowed down. She gave him props for not jumping to conclusions and going straight to his place. “How about your driveway,” she suggested.

  The car jerked, and she bit off a laugh. So he wasn’t as calm and collected as he appeared to be. “Are you sure?”

  She gazed at him. “Are you?”

  When he scanned her body, lingering at her cleavage since she’d left her jacket open, moisture gathered between her legs.

  “You tempt me to fall in love with you, but…”

  She gaped at him. “You’re not natural, you know that? Unless of course this is just part of your game.”

  “Do you suspect every man of running a game on you?”

  She said nothing, but he pulled into his driveway. Vanity didn’t move to get out of the car, and Owen took her hand and kissed it. She held onto the warm touch and let sensations of desire course over her being. At the same time he turned her on, he also comforted her, and that made her mind spin.

  “If nothing else, I can walk you to your door.”

  She nodded, and they started got out of the car. Before he could take more than a step toward her aunt’s house, Vanity jumped him. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself tight against his body. If she wondered if he wanted her, the answer came in his unyielding length outlined against her belly. Once she made up her mind, she was not the shy type. She worked a hand between them and squeezed his hard-on.

  Owen stopped her. “Whoa, if you do that now, I’m liable to take you here.”

  A thrill zipped up her spine at the threat. “Then?”

  He unlocked his front door and let her in. Vanity didn’t get to examine the interior, being the first time she stepped foot inside his house. Owen bumped her to the door and followed with his big, hard body. He pushed a thigh between hers and raised it until he impacted with her pussy. She moaned and arched her hips, riding his muscled thigh.

  “You like that?” He nipped her chin and kissed her lips. She murmured beneath his onslaught, but Owen took advantage of the opening and pushed his tongue into her mouth. Pleasure and surprise winded her. Owen had never displayed such dominance. The minute they decided to have sex, his personality seemed to do a metamorphosis. So far, she loved it.

  He raised his head to stare down at her, and she panted. “Yes, I do. I want more, Owen. Please give it to me.”

  He pinched the button open on her jeans and ran a hand down her belly. In seconds, he pushed her panties aside and threaded a finger between her folds. Vanity’s eyelids grew heavy, and she moaned. Owen echoed the sound, his breath warming her cheek.

  “Honey, you’re so wet for me. Do you know I’ve wanted to touch you here from the moment I saw you?” He leaned back and dragged her pants along with her panties down her legs. Vanity yelped at his rough movements, but she spread her legs in readiness when he dropped to his knees. “Even your scent drives me nuts. Do you taste as good as you smell?”

  She shook from head to toe. In the dim lighting of his house, she just made out his eyes, and they seemed to glitter in his excitement. With trembling hands, she reached for him and pulled his head closer. Her pussy ached to feel his tongue, but she couldn’t for the life of her put it into words.

  “Owen.”

  He didn’t deny her but delved into her softness. His tongue snaked out and ran from the base of her dripping sex to the top. She shivered and cried out his name once again. He parted her folds and stuck his tongue deeper. Vanity dipped her knees, but Owen thrust her up.

  “Oh, no, you don’t. You stand there and let me eat you until I’m done.” He moved his hands to her thighs. “Vanity, push back the hood and expose that pretty clit for me. Do it now.”

  She did as he asked, knowing she would leave herself vulnerable. His hot, wet mouth closed over her button, and he sucked hard. She screamed, “Yes!” and bit down on it so the whole neighborhood wouldn’t hear. He didn’t let up but left it for her to control her cries. He sucked and laved between her legs, sending raging pulses up from her core. Her inner muscles contracted and released until one minute she rode his mouth, and the next she pleaded with him that it was too much.

  Her orgasm descended with a vengeance, taking all her energy. She rocked her hips, and when he pushed his tongue as far as it would go, she raised one knee and pumped until she was done.

  When Owen stood up, she couldn’t believe she’d been so wanton with him, but her lust fired to insane levels as she watched him take his clothes off. Vanity shed the rest of hers as well, and let out a small yelp when Owen picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. He started up the stairs, and she protested.

  “Owen, let me go. You’re going to drop me.” He ignored her and continued on. Vanity hadn’t realized he had a second floor and found a room on one side. He deposited her onto a king-size bed, which she could make out from the moonlight spilling between the window curtains. She watched him approach the dresser and rummage through the top drawer. The crackle of a wrapper sounded when he tossed something onto the bedside table.

  Owen tore open one of the wrappers and rolled a condom onto his erection. She aided him and stroked the turgid length, her mouth watering. “I could have helped you with this.”

  “You will,” he promised.

  He thrust her backward and elevated one of her legs. The kisses he rained on her inner thighs had her trembling. He licked his way to her apex and stuck his tongue inside her. Vanity scratched at the bed. Could a man be so thoughtful, to seek her pleasure with every touch? He caught her clit between his lips and sucked until she moaned. Then he moved lower and licked her juices. She felt the stirrings of another orgasm, but before it could crest, he raised her leg until her knee touched her chest. The head of his cock brushed between her folds, and she gasped.

  “Owen.”

  “You’re not changing your mind?”

  “Never. I just n-need you to put it in me.” She whimpered like a kitten as he pushed the head past her entrance. “Oh goodness, it’s so big.”

  “Does it hurt?” He stopped moving.

  “No, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

  He drove deeper until he could go no farther, and they both panted, struggling to catch their breath. Vanit
y shifted a little, so full, and the sensations ran wild until she didn’t think she could take it. Yet, if he pulled out now, she’d kill him.

  Owen hugged both her legs together and pressed them to his chest to yank her closer. He arched his hips so his cock slid out a bit and then thrust forward. The slap of their bodies coming together and the impact made her shout in bliss. He ground into her, retreated, and drove forward again. After a few slow strokes, he tossed her legs over one shoulder and picked up the pace. Thumping hard and fast into her, he didn’t ease up for a long while. Vanity clenched her teeth to keep her screams to a minimum. She grasped at his thighs but couldn’t hold on. He took her without mercy, and Vanity let herself go.

  Owen’s moans grew louder, and his movements intense. He clutched her with rough fingers, and she wiggled her hips. A hiss escaped his tightened jaw.

  “I’m going to—”

  “—come,” she murmured.

  He shouted his release in one, short cry, halting his thrusts. Vanity pushed a hand between her legs and pinched her clit. She sucked in a breath, and an orgasm hit. She shook on his erection still buried inside of her. When it ended and Owen came down from his high, he lowered her legs to the bed and lay behind her. His arms encircled her waist, drawing her back to his chest.

  “Did you like that?” he asked in a breathless tone.

  “Mm.”

  He pushed a hand between her legs and cupped her pussy. She tensed, knowing her sensitive clit wasn’t ready yet, but he waited. After some time, when her heart rate slowed, he used his thumb to massage her bud. Vanity arched into his touch.

  “You’re going to make me come again?”

  “You don’t want to?”

  He never paused in his stroke. How could she deny it, when it felt so good? She put a hand back and squeezed his ass. The muscle didn’t give an inch, and it turned her on to have him so hard and strong.

  “I want to please you too.”

  He moved behind her, rubbing his already swelling arousal on her ass. “Feel that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where my hand is, is where I want to be. When I’m ready again, trust me, you will please me. Now scream for me, baby. ”